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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1335-h.zip b/1335-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1166e57 --- /dev/null +++ b/1335-h.zip diff --git a/1335-h/1335-h.htm b/1335-h/1335-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b37c57f --- /dev/null +++ b/1335-h/1335-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2999 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Ancien Regime</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Ancien Regime, by Charles Kingsley</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Ancien Regime, by Charles Kingsley + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Ancien Regime + + +Author: Charles Kingsley + +Release Date: May 13, 2005 [eBook #1335] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANCIEN REGIME*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1902 “Historical Lectures and Essays” +Macmillan and Co. edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<h1>THE ANCIEN RÉGIME<br /> +by Charles Kingsley</h1> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<p>The rules of the Royal Institution forbid (and wisely) religious +or political controversy. It was therefore impossible for me in +these Lectures, to say much which had to be said, in drawing a just +and complete picture of the Ancien Régime in France. The +passages inserted between brackets, which bear on religious matters, +were accordingly not spoken at the Royal Institution.</p> +<p>But more. It was impossible for me in these Lectures, to bring +forward as fully as I could have wished, the contrast between the continental +nations and England, whether now, or during the eighteenth century. +But that contrast cannot be too carefully studied at the present moment. +In proportion as it is seen and understood, will the fear of revolution +(if such exists) die out among the wealthier classes; and the wish for +it (if such exists) among the poorer; and a large extension of the suffrage +will be looked on as—what it actually is—a safe and harmless +concession to the wishes—and, as I hold, to the just rights—of +large portion of the British nation.</p> +<p>There exists in Britain now, as far as I can see, no one of those +evils which brought about the French Revolution. There is no widespread +misery, and therefore no widespread discontent, among the classes who +live by hand-labour. The legislation of the last generation has +been steadily in favour of the poor, as against the rich; and it is +even more true now than it was in 1789, that—as Arthur Young told +the French mob which stopped his carriage—the rich pay many taxes +(over and above the poor-rates, a direct tax on the capitalist in favour +of the labourer) more than are paid by the poor. “In England” +(says M. de Tocqueville of even the eighteenth century) “the poor +man enjoyed the privilege of exemption from taxation; in France, the +rich.” Equality before the law is as well-nigh complete +as it can be, where some are rich and others poor; and the only privileged +class, it sometimes seems to me, is the pauper, who has neither the +responsibility of self-government, nor the toil of self-support.</p> +<p>A minority of malcontents, some justly, some unjustly, angry with +the present state of things, will always exist in this world. +But a majority of malcontents we shall never have, as long as the workmen +are allowed to keep untouched and unthreatened their rights of free +speech, free public meeting, free combination for all purposes which +do not provoke a breach of the peace. There may be (and probably +are) to be found in London and the large towns, some of those revolutionary +propagandists who have terrified and tormented continental statesmen +since the year 1815. But they are far fewer in number than in +1848; far fewer still (I believe) than in 1831; and their habits, notions, +temper, whole mental organisation, is so utterly alien to that of the +average Englishman, that it is only the sense of wrong which can make +him take counsel with them, or make common cause with them. Meanwhile, +every man who is admitted to a vote, is one more person withdrawn from +the temptation to disloyalty, and enlisted in maintaining the powers +that be—when they are in the wrong, as well as when they are in +the right. For every Englishman is by his nature conservative; +slow to form an opinion; cautious in putting it into effect; patient +under evils which seem irremediable; persevering in abolishing such +as seem remediable; and then only too ready to acquiesce in the earliest +practical result; to “rest and be thankful.” His faults, +as well as his virtues, make him anti-revolutionary. He is generally +too dull to take in a great idea; and if he does take it in, often too +selfish to apply it to any interest save his own. But now and +then, when the sense of actual injury forces upon him a great idea, +like that of Free-trade or of Parliamentary Reform, he is indomitable, +however slow and patient, in translating his thought into fact: and +they will not be wise statesmen who resist his dogged determination. +If at this moment he demands an extension of the suffrage eagerly and +even violently, the wise statesman will give at once, gracefully and +generously, what the Englishman will certainly obtain one day, if he +has set his mind upon it. If, on the other hand, he asks for it +calmly, then the wise statesman (instead of mistaking English reticence +for apathy) will listen to his wishes all the more readily; seeing in +the moderation of the demand, the best possible guarantee for moderation +in the use of the thing demanded.</p> +<p>And, be it always remembered, that in introducing these men into +the “balance of the Constitution,” we introduce no unknown +quantity. Statesmen ought to know them, if they know themselves; +to judge what the working man would do by what they do themselves. +He who imputes virtues to his own class imputes them also to the labouring +class. He who imputes vices to the labouring class, imputes them +to his own class. For both are not only of the same flesh and +blood, but, what is infinitely more important, of the same spirit; of +the same race; in innumerable cases, of the same ancestors. For +centuries past the most able of these men have been working upwards +into the middle class, and through it, often, to the highest dignities, +and the highest family connections; and the whole nation knows how they +have comported themselves therein. And, by a reverse process (of +which the physiognomist and genealogist can give abundant proof), the +weaker members of that class which was dominant during the Middle Age +have been sinking downward, often to the rank of mere day-labourers, +and carrying downward with them—sometimes in a very tragical and +pathetic fashion—somewhat of the dignity and the refinement which +they had learnt from their ancestors.</p> +<p>Thus has the English nation (and as far as I can see, the Scotch +likewise) become more homogeneous than any nation of the Continent, +if we except France since the extermination of the Frankish nobility. +And for that very reason, as it seems to me, it is more fitted than +any other European nation for the exercise of equal political rights; +and not to be debarred of them by arguments drawn from countries which +have been governed—as England has not been—by a caste.</p> +<p>The civilisation, not of mere book-learning, but of the heart; all +that was once meant by “manners”—good breeding, high +feeling, respect for self and respect for others—are just as common +(as far as I have seen) among the hand-workers of England and Scotland, +as among any other class; the only difference is, that these qualities +develop more early in the richer classes, owing to that severe discipline +of our public schools, which makes mere lads often fit to govern, because +they have learnt to obey: while they develop later—generally not +till middle age—in the classes who have not gone through in their +youth that Spartan training, and who indeed (from a mistaken conception +of liberty) would not endure it for a day. This and other social +drawbacks which are but too patent, retard the manhood of the working +classes. That it should be so, is a wrong. For if a citizen +have one right above all others to demand anything of his country, it +is that he should be educated; that whatever capabilities he may have +in him, however small, should have their fair and full chance of development. +But the cause of the wrong is not the existence of a caste, or a privileged +class, or of anything save the plain fact, that some men will be always +able to pay more for their children’s education than others; and +that those children will, inevitably, win in the struggle of life.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, in this fact is to be found the most weighty, if not the +only argument against manhood suffrage, which would admit many—but +too many, alas!—who are still mere boys in mind. To a reasonable +household suffrage it cannot apply. The man who (being almost +certainly married, and having children) can afford to rent a £5 +tenement in a town, or in the country either, has seen quite enough +of life, and learnt quite enough of it, to form a very fair judgment +of the man who offers to represent him in Parliament; because he has +learnt, not merely something of his own interest, or that of his class, +but—what is infinitely more important—the difference between +the pretender and the honest man.</p> +<p>The causes of this state of society, which is peculiar to Britain, +must be sought far back in the ages. It would seem that the distinction +between “earl and churl” (the noble and the non-noble freeman) +was crushed out in this island by the two Norman conquests—that +of the Anglo-Saxon nobility by Sweyn and Canute; and that of the Anglo-Danish +nobility by William and his Frenchmen. Those two terrible calamities, +following each other in the short space of fifty years, seem to have +welded together, by a community of suffering, all ranks and races, at +least south of the Tweed; and when the English rose after the storm, +they rose as one homogeneous people, never to be governed again by an +originally alien race. The English nobility were, from the time +of Magna Charta, rather an official nobility, than, as in most continental +countries, a separate caste; and whatever caste tendencies had developed +themselves before the Wars of the Roses (as such are certain to do during +centuries of continued wealth and power), were crushed out by the great +revolutionary events of the next hundred years. Especially did +the discovery of the New World, the maritime struggle with Spain, the +outburst of commerce and colonisation during the reigns of Elizabeth +and James, help toward this good result. It was in vain for the +Lord Oxford of the day, sneering at Raleigh’s sudden elevation, +to complain that as on the virginals, so in the State, “Jacks +went up, and heads went down.” The proudest noblemen were +not ashamed to have their ventures on the high seas, and to send their +younger sons trading, or buccaneering, under the conduct of low-born +men like Drake, who “would like to see the gentleman that would +not set his hand to a rope, and hale and draw with the mariners.” +Thus sprang up that respect for, even fondness for, severe bodily labour, +which the educated class of no nation save our own has ever felt; and +which has stood them in such good stead, whether at home or abroad. +Thus, too, sprang up the system of society by which (as the ballad sets +forth) the squire’s son might be a “’prentice good,” +and marry</p> +<blockquote><p>“The bailiff’s daughter dear<br /> +That dwelt at Islington,”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>without tarnishing, as he would have done on the Continent, the scutcheon +of his ancestors. That which has saved England from a central +despotism, such as crushed, during the eighteenth century, every nation +on the Continent, is the very same peculiarity which makes the advent +of the masses to a share in political power safe and harmless; namely, +the absence of caste, or rather (for there is sure to be a moral fact +underlying and causing every political fact) the absence of that wicked +pride which perpetuates caste; forbidding those to intermarry whom nature +and fact pronounce to be fit mates before God and man.</p> +<p>These views are not mine only. They have been already set forth +so much more forcibly by M. de Tocqueville, that I should have thought +it unnecessary to talk about them, were not the rhetorical phrases, +“Caste,” “Privileged Classes,” “Aristocratic +Exclusiveness,” and such-like, bandied about again just now, as +if they represented facts. If there remain in this kingdom any +facts which correspond to those words, let them be abolished as speedily +as possible: but that such do remain was not the opinion of the master +of modern political philosophy, M. de Tocqueville.</p> +<p>He expresses his surprise “that the fact which distinguishes +England from all other modern nations, and which alone can throw light +on her peculiarities, . . . has not attracted more attention, . . . +and that habit has rendered it, as it were, imperceptible to the English +themselves—that England was the only country in which the system +of caste had been not only modified, but effectually destroyed. +The nobility and the middle classes followed the same business, embraced +the same professions, and, what is far more significant, intermarried +with each other. The daughter of the greatest nobleman” +(and this, if true of the eighteenth century, has become far more true +of the nineteenth) “could already, without disgrace, marry a man +of yesterday.” . . .</p> +<p>“It has often been remarked that the English nobility has been +more prudent, more able, and less exclusive than any other. It +would have been much nearer the truth to say, that in England, for a +very long time past, no nobility, properly so called, have existed, +if we take the word in the ancient and limited sense it has everywhere +else retained.” . . .</p> +<p>“For several centuries the word ‘gentleman’” +(he might have added, “burgess”) “has altogether changed +its meaning in England; and the word ‘roturier’ has ceased +to exist. In each succeeding century it is applied to persons +placed somewhat lower in the social scale” (as the “bagman” +of Pickwick has become, and has deserved to become, the “commercial +gentleman” of our day). “At length it travelled with +the English to America, where it is used to designate every citizen +indiscriminately. Its history is that of democracy itself.” +. . .</p> +<p>“If the middle classes of England, instead of making war upon +the aristocracy, have remained so intimately connected with it, it is +not especially because the aristocracy is open to all, but rather, because +its outline was indistinct, and its limit unknown: not so much because +any man might be admitted into it, as because it was impossible to say +with certainty when he took rank there: so that all who approached it +might look on themselves as belonging to it; might take part in its +rule, and derive either lustre or profit from its influence.”</p> +<p>Just so; and therefore the middle classes of Britain, of whatever +their special political party, are conservative in the best sense of +that word.</p> +<p>For there are not three, but only two, classes in England; namely, +rich and poor: those who live by capital (from the wealthiest landlord +to the smallest village shopkeeper); and those who live by hand-labour. +Whether the division between those two classes is increasing or not, +is a very serious question. Continued legislation in favour of +the hand-labourer, and a beneficence towards him, when in need, such +as no other nation on earth has ever shown, have done much to abolish +the moral division. But the social division has surely been increased +during the last half century, by the inevitable tendency, both in commerce +and agriculture, to employ one large capital, where several small ones +would have been employed a century ago. The large manufactory, +the large shop, the large estate, the large farm, swallows up the small +ones. The yeoman, the thrifty squatter who could work at two or +three trades as well as till his patch of moor, the hand-loom weaver, +the skilled village craftsman, have all but disappeared. The handworker, +finding it more and more difficult to invest his savings, has been more +and more tempted to squander them. To rise to the dignity of a +capitalist, however small, was growing impossible to him, till the rise +of that co-operative movement, which will do more than any social or +political impulse in our day for the safety of English society, and +the loyalty of the English working classes. And meanwhile—ere +that movement shall have spread throughout the length and breadth of +the land, and have been applied, as it surely will be some day, not +only to distribution, not only to manufacture, but to agriculture likewise—till +then, the best judges of the working men’s worth must be their +employers; and especially the employers of the northern manufacturing +population. What their judgment is, is sufficiently notorious. +Those who depend most on the working men, who have the best opportunities +of knowing them, trust them most thoroughly. As long as great +manufacturers stand forward as the political sponsors of their own workmen, +it behoves those who cannot have had their experience, to consider their +opinion as conclusive. As for that “influence of the higher +classes” which is said to be endangered just now; it will exist, +just as much as it deserves to exist. Any man who is superior +to the many, whether in talents, education, refinement, wealth, or anything +else, will always be able to influence a number of men—and if +he thinks it worth his while, of votes—by just and lawful means. +And as for unjust and unlawful means, let those who prefer them keep +up heart. The world will go on much as it did before; and be always +quite bad enough to allow bribery and corruption, jobbery and nepotism, +quackery and arrogance, their full influence over our home and foreign +policy. An extension of the suffrage, however wide, will not bring +about the millennium. It will merely make a large number of Englishmen +contented and loyal, instead of discontented and disloyal. It +may make, too, the educated and wealthy classes wiser by awakening a +wholesome fear—perhaps, it may be, by awakening a chivalrous emulation. +It may put the younger men of the present aristocracy upon their mettle, +and stir them up to prove that they are not in the same effete condition +as was the French noblesse in 1789. It may lead them to take the +warnings which have been addressed to them, for the last thirty years, +by their truest friends—often by kinsmen of their own. It +may lead them to ask themselves why, in a world which is governed by +a just God, such great power as is palpably theirs at present is entrusted +to them, save that they may do more work, and not less, than other men, +under the penalties pronounced against those to whom much is given, +and of whom much is required. It may lead them to discover that +they are in a world where it is not safe to sit under the tree, and +let the ripe fruit drop into your mouth; where the “competition +of species” works with ruthless energy among all ranks of being, +from kings upon their thrones to the weeds upon the waste; where “he +that is not hammer, is sure to be anvil;” and he who will not +work, neither shall he eat. It may lead them to devote that energy +(in which they surpass so far the continental aristocracies) to something +better than outdoor amusements or indoor dilettantisms. There +are those among them who, like one section of the old French noblesse, +content themselves with mere complaints of “the revolutionary +tendencies of the age.” Let them beware in time; for when +the many are on the march, the few who stand still are certain to be +walked over. There are those among them who, like another section +of the French noblesse, are ready, more generously than wisely, to throw +away their own social and political advantages, and play (for it will +never be really more than playing) at democracy. Let them, too, +beware. The penknife and the axe should respect each other; for +they were wrought from the same steel: but the penknife will not be +wise in trying to fell trees. Let them accept their own position, +not in conceit and arrogance, but in fear and trembling; and see if +they cannot play the man therein, and save their own class; and with +it, much which it has needed many centuries to accumulate and to organise, +and without which no nation has yet existed for a single century. +They are no more like the old French noblesse, than are the commercial +class like the old French bourgeoisie, or the labouring like the old +French peasantry. Let them prove that fact by their deeds during +the next generation; or sink into the condition of mere rich men, exciting, +by their luxury and laziness, nothing but envy and contempt.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, behind all classes and social forces—I had almost +said, above them all—stands a fourth estate, which will, ultimately, +decide the form which English society is to take: a Press as different +from the literary class of the Ancien Régime as is everything +else English; and different in this—that it is free.</p> +<p>The French Revolution, like every revolution (it seems to me) which +has convulsed the nations of Europe for the last eighty years, was caused +immediately—whatever may have been its more remote causes—by +the suppression of thought; or, at least, by a sense of wrong among +those who thought. A country where every man, be he fool or wise, +is free to speak that which is in him, can never suffer a revolution. +The folly blows itself off like steam, in harmless noise; the wisdom +becomes part of the general intellectual stock of the nation, and prepares +men for gradual, and therefore for harmless, change.</p> +<p>As long as the press is free, a nation is guaranteed against sudden +and capricious folly, either from above or from below. As long +as the press is free, a nation is guaranteed against the worse evil +of persistent and obstinate folly, cloaking itself under the venerable +shapes of tradition and authority. For under a free press, a nation +must ultimately be guided not by a caste, not by a class, not by mere +wealth, not by the passions of a mob: but by mind; by the net result +of all the common-sense of its members; and in the present default of +genius, which is un-common sense, common-sense seems to be the only, +if not the best, safeguard for poor humanity.</p> +<p>1867</p> +<h2>LECTURE I—CASTE</h2> +<p>[Delivered at the Royal Institution, London, 1867.]</p> +<p>These Lectures are meant to be comments on the state of France before +the French Revolution. To English society, past or present, I +do not refer. For reasons which I have set forth at length in +an introductory discourse, there never was any Ancien Régime +in England.</p> +<p>Therefore, when the Stuarts tried to establish in England a system +which might have led to a political condition like that of the Continent, +all classes combined and exterminated them; while the course of English +society went on as before.</p> +<p>On the contrary, England was the mother of every movement which undermined, +and at last destroyed, the Ancien Régime.</p> +<p>From England went forth those political theories which, transmitted +from America to France, became the principles of the French Revolution. +From England went forth the philosophy of Locke, with all its immense +results. It is noteworthy, that when Voltaire tries to persuade +people, in a certain famous passage, that philosophers do not care to +trouble the world—of the ten names to whom he does honour, seven +names are English. “It is,” he says, “neither +Montaigne, nor Locke, nor Boyle, nor Spinoza, nor Hobbes, nor Lord Shaftesbury, +nor Mr. Collins, nor Mr. Toland, nor Fludd, nor Baker, who have carried +the torch of discord into their countries.” It is worth +notice, that not only are the majority of these names English, but that +they belong not to the latter but to the former half of the eighteenth +century; and indeed, to the latter half of the seventeenth.</p> +<p>So it was with that Inductive Physical Science, which helped more +than all to break up the superstitions of the Ancien Régime, +and to set man face to face with the facts of the universe. From +England, towards the end of the seventeenth century, it was promulgated +by such men as Newton, Boyle, Sydenham, Ray, and the first founders +of our Royal Society.</p> +<p>In England, too, arose the great religious movements of the seventeenth +and eighteenth centuries—and especially that of a body which I +can never mention without most deep respect—the Society of Friends. +At a time when the greater part of the Continent was sunk in spiritual +sleep, these men were reasserting doctrines concerning man, and his +relation to his Creator, which, whether or not all believe them (as +I believe them) to be founded on eternal fact, all must confess to have +been of incalculable benefit to the cause of humanity and civilisation.</p> +<p>From England, finally, about the middle of the eighteenth century, +went forth—promulgated by English noblemen—that freemasonry +which seems to have been the true parent of all the secret societies +of Europe. Of this curious question, more hereafter. But +enough has been said to show that England, instead of falling, at any +period, into the stagnation of the Ancien Régime, was, from the +middle of the seventeenth century, in a state of intellectual growth +and ferment which communicated itself finally to the continental nations. +This is the special honour of England; universally confessed at the +time. It was to England that the slowly-awakening nations looked, +as the source of all which was noble, true, and free, in the dawning +future.</p> +<p>It will be seen, from what I have said, that I consider the Ancien +Régime to begin in the seventeenth century. I should date +its commencement—as far as that of anything so vague, unsystematic, +indeed anarchic, can be defined—from the end of the Thirty Years’ +War, and the peace of Westphalia in 1648.</p> +<p>For by that time the mighty spiritual struggles and fierce religious +animosities of the preceding century had worn themselves out. +And, as always happens, to a period of earnest excitement had succeeded +one of weariness, disgust, half-unbelief in the many questions for which +so much blood had been shed. No man had come out of the battle +with altogether clean hands; some not without changing sides more than +once. The war had ended as one, not of nations, not even of zealots, +but of mercenaries. The body of Europe had been pulled in pieces +between them all; and the poor soul thereof—as was to be expected—had +fled out through the gaping wounds. Life, mere existence, was +the most pressing need. If men could—in the old prophet’s +words—find the life of their hand, they were content. High +and low only asked to be let live. The poor asked it—slaughtered +on a hundred battle-fields, burnt out of house and home: vast tracts +of the centre of Europe were lying desert; the population was diminished +for several generations. The trading classes, ruined by the long +war, only asked to be let live, and make a little money. The nobility, +too, only asked to be let live. They had lost, in the long struggle, +not only often lands and power, but their ablest and bravest men; and +a weaker and meaner generation was left behind, to do the governing +of the world. Let them live, and keep what they had. If +signs of vigour still appeared in France, in the wars of Louis XIV. +they were feverish, factitious, temporary—soon, as the event proved, +to droop into the general exhaustion. If wars were still to be +waged they were to be wars of succession, wars of diplomacy; not wars +of principle, waged for the mightiest invisible interests of man. +The exhaustion was general; and to it we must attribute alike the changes +and the conservatism of the Ancien Régime. To it is owing +that growth of a centralising despotism, and of arbitrary regal power, +which M. de Tocqueville has set forth in a book which I shall have occasion +often to quote. To it is owing, too, that longing, which seems +to us childish, after ancient forms, etiquettes, dignities, court costumes, +formalities diplomatic, legal, ecclesiastical. Men clung to them +as to keepsakes of the past—revered relics of more intelligible +and better-ordered times. If the spirit had been beaten out of +them in a century of battle, that was all the more reason for keeping +up the letter. They had had a meaning once, a life once; perhaps +there was a little life left in them still; perhaps the dry bones would +clothe themselves with flesh once more, and stand upon their feet. +At least it was useful that the common people should so believe. +There was good hope that the simple masses, seeing the old dignities +and formalities still parading the streets, should suppose that they +still contained men, and were not mere wooden figures, dressed artistically +in official costume. And, on the whole, that hope was not deceived. +More than a century of bitter experience was needed ere the masses discovered +that their ancient rulers were like the suits of armour in the Tower +of London—empty iron astride of wooden steeds, and armed with +lances which every ploughboy could wrest out of their hands, and use +in his own behalf.</p> +<p>The mistake of the masses was pardonable. For those suits of +armour had once held living men; strong, brave, wise; men of an admirable +temper; doing their work according to their light, not altogether well—what +man does that on earth?—but well enough to make themselves necessary +to, and loyally followed by, the masses whom they ruled. No one +can read fairly the “Gesta Dei per Francos in Oriente,” +or the deeds of the French Nobility in their wars with England, or those +tales—however legendary—of the mediæval knights, which +form so noble an element in German literature, without seeing, that +however black were these men’s occasional crimes, they were a +truly noble race, the old Nobility of the Continent; a race which ruled +simply because, without them, there would have been naught but anarchy +and barbarism. To their chivalrous ideal they were too often, +perhaps for the most part, untrue: but, partial and defective as it +is, it is an ideal such as never entered into the mind of Celt or Gaul, +Hun or Sclav; one which seems continuous with the spread of the Teutonic +conquerors. They ruled because they did practically raise the +ideal of humanity in the countries which they conquered, a whole stage +higher. They ceased to rule when they were, through their own +sins, caught up and surpassed in the race of progress by the classes +below them.</p> +<p>But, even when at its best, their system of government had in it—like +all human invention—original sin; an unnatural and unrighteous +element, which was certain, sooner or later, to produce decay and ruin. +The old Nobility of Europe was not a mere aristocracy. It was +a caste: a race not intermarrying with the races below it. It +was not a mere aristocracy. For that, for the supremacy of the +best men, all societies strive, or profess to strive. And such +a true aristocracy may exist independent of caste, or the hereditary +principle at all. We may conceive an Utopia, governed by an aristocracy +which should be really democratic; which should use, under developed +forms, that method which made the mediæval priesthood the one +great democratic institution of old Christendom; bringing to the surface +and utilising the talents and virtues of all classes, even to the lowest. +We may conceive an aristocracy choosing out, and gladly receiving into +its own ranks as equals, every youth, every maiden, who was distinguished +by intellect, virtue, valour, beauty, without respect to rank or birth; +and rejecting in turn, from its own ranks, each of its own children +who fell below some lofty standard, and showed by weakliness, dulness, +or baseness, incapacity for the post of guiding and elevating their +fellow-citizens. Thus would arise a true aristocracy; a governing +body of the really most worthy—the most highly organised in body +and in mind—perpetually recruited from below: from which, or from +any other ideal, we are yet a few thousand years distant.</p> +<p>But the old Ancien Régime would have shuddered, did shudder, +at such a notion. The supreme class was to keep itself pure, and +avoid all taint of darker blood, shutting its eyes to the fact that +some of its most famous heroes had been born of such left-handed marriages +as that of Robert of Normandy with the tanner’s daughter of Falaise. +“Some are so curious in this behalf,” says quaint old Burton, +writing about 1650, “as these old Romans, our modern Venetians, +Dutch, and French, that if two parties dearly love, the one noble, the +other ignoble, they may not, by their laws, match, though equal otherwise +in years, fortunes, education, and all good affection. In Germany, +except they can prove their gentility by three descents, they scorn +to match with them. A nobleman must marry a noblewoman; a baron, +a baron’s daughter; a knight, a knight’s. As slaters +sort their slates, do they degrees and families.”</p> +<p>And doubtless this theory—like all which have held their ground +for many centuries—at first represented a fact. These castes +were, at first, actually superior to the peoples over whom they ruled. +I cannot, as long as my eyes are open, yield to the modern theory of +the equality—indeed of the non-existence—of races. +Holding, as I do, the primæval unity of the human race, I see +in that race the same inclination to sport into fresh varieties, the +same competition of species between those varieties, which Mr. Darwin +has pointed out among plants and mere animals. A distinguished +man arises; from him a distinguished family; from it a distinguished +tribe, stronger, cunninger than those around. It asserts its supremacy +over its neighbours at first exactly as a plant or animal would do, +by destroying, and, where possible, eating them; next, having grown +more prudent, by enslaving them; next, having gained a little morality +in addition to its prudence, by civilising them, raising them more or +less toward its own standard. And thus, in every land, civilisation +and national life has arisen out of the patriarchal state; and the Eastern +scheik, with his wives, free and slave, and his hundreds of fighting +men born in his house, is the type of all primæval rulers. +He is the best man of his horde—in every sense of the word best; +and whether he have a right to rule them or not, they consider that +he has, and are the better men for his guidance.</p> +<p>Whether this ought to have been the history of primæval civilisation, +is a question not to be determined here. That it is the history +thereof, is surely patent to anyone who will imagine to himself what +must have been. In the first place, the strongest and cunningest +savage must have had the chance of producing children more strong and +cunning than the average; he would have—the strongest savage has +still—the power of obtaining a wife, or wives, superior in beauty +and in household skill, which involves superiority of intellect; and +therefore his children would—some of them at least—be superior +to the average, both from the father’s and the mother’s +capacities. They again would marry select wives; and their children +again would do the same; till, in a very few generations, a family would +have established itself, considerably superior to the rest of the tribe +in body and mind, and become assuredly its ruling race.</p> +<p>Again, if one of that race invented a new weapon, a new mode of tillage, +or aught else which gave him power, that would add to the superiority +of his whole family. For the invention would be jealously kept +among them as a mystery, a hereditary secret. To this simple cause, +surely, is to be referred the system of hereditary caste occupations, +whether in Egypt or Hindoostan. To this, too, the fact that alike +in Greek and in Teutonic legend the chief so often appears, not merely +as the best warrior and best minstrel, but as the best smith, armourer, +and handicraftsman of his tribe. If, however, the inventor happened +to be a low-born genius, its advantages would still accrue to the ruling +race. For nothing could be more natural or more easy—as +more than one legend intimates—than that the king should extort +the new secret from his subject, and then put him to death to prevent +any further publicity.</p> +<p>Two great inventive geniuses we may see dimly through the abysses +of the past, both of whom must have become in their time great chiefs, +founders of mighty aristocracies—it may be, worshipped after their +death as gods.</p> +<p>The first, who seems to have existed after the age in which the black +race colonised Australia, must have been surely a man worthy to hold +rank with our Brindleys, Watts, and Stephensons. For he invented +(and mind, one man must have invented the thing first, and by the very +nature of it, invented it all at once) an instrument so singular, unexpected, +unlike anything to be seen in nature, that I wonder it has not been +called, like the plough, the olive, or the vine, a gift of the immortal +gods: and yet an instrument so simple, so easy, and so perfect, that +it spread over all races in Europe and America, and no substitute could +be found for it till the latter part of the fifteenth century. +Yes, a great genius was he, and the consequent founder of a great aristocracy +and conquering race, who first invented for himself and his children +after him a—bow and arrow.</p> +<p>The next—whether before or after the first in time, it suits +me to speak of him in second place—was the man who was the potential +ancestor of the whole Ritterschaft, Chivalry, and knightly caste of +Europe; the man who first, finding a foal upon the steppe, deserted +by its dam, brought it home, and reared it; and then bethought him of +the happy notion of making it draw—presumably by its tail—a +fashion which endured long in Ireland, and had to be forbidden by law, +I think as late as the sixteenth century. A great aristocrat must +that man have become. A greater still he who first substituted +the bit for the halter. A greater still he who first thought of +wheels. A greater still he who conceived the yoke and pole for +bearing up his chariot; for that same yoke, and pole, and chariot, became +the peculiar instrument of conquerors like him who mightily oppressed +the children of Israel, for he had nine hundred chariots of iron. +Egyptians, Syrians, Assyrians, Greeks, Romans—none of them improved +on the form of the conquering biga, till it was given up by a race who +preferred a pair of shafts to their carts, and who had learnt to ride +instead of drive. A great aristocrat, again, must he have been +among those latter races who first conceived the notion of getting on +his horse’s back, accommodating his motions to the beast’s, +and becoming a centaur, half-man, half-horse. That invention must +have tended, in the first instance, as surely toward democracy as did +the invention of firearms. A tribe of riders must have been always, +more or less, equal and free. Equal because a man on a horse would +feel himself a man indeed; because the art of riding called out an independence, +a self-help, a skill, a consciousness of power, a personal pride and +vanity, which would defy slavery. Free, because a tribe of riders +might be defeated, exterminated, but never enchained. They could +never become <i>gleboe adscripti</i>, bound to the soil, as long as +they could take horse and saddle, and away. History gives us more +than one glimpse of such tribes—the scourge and terror of the +non-riding races with whom they came in contact. Some, doubtless, +remember how in the wars between Alfred and the Danes, “the army” +(the Scandinavian invaders) again and again horse themselves, steal +away by night from the Saxon infantry, and ride over the land (whether +in England or in France), “doing unspeakable evil.” +To that special instinct of horsemanship, which still distinguishes +their descendants, we may attribute mainly the Scandinavian settlement +of the north and east of England. Some, too, may recollect the +sketch of the primeval Hun, as he first appeared to the astonished and +disgusted old Roman soldier Ammianus Marcellinus; the visages “more +like cakes than faces;” the “figures like those which are +hewn out with an axe on the poles at bridge-ends;” the rat-skin +coats, which they wore till they rotted off their limbs; their steaks +of meat cooked between the saddle and the thigh; the little horses on +which “they eat and drink, buy and sell, and sleep lying forward +along his narrow neck, and indulging in every variety of dream.” +And over and above, and more important politically, the common councils +“held on horseback, under the authority of no king, but content +with the irregular government of nobles, under whose leading they force +their way through all obstacles.” A race—like those +Cossacks who are probably their lineal descendants—to be feared, +to be hired, to be petted, but not to be conquered.</p> +<p>Instances nearer home of free equestrian races we have in our own +English borderers, among whom (as Mr. Froude says) the farmers and their +farm-servants had but to snatch their arms and spring into their saddles +and they became at once the Northern Horse, famed as the finest light +cavalry in the world. And equal to them—superior even, if +we recollect that they preserved their country’s freedom for centuries +against the superior force of England—were those troops of Scots +who, century after century, swept across the border on their little +garrons, their bag of oatmeal hanging by the saddle, with the iron griddle +whereon to bake it; careless of weather and of danger; men too swift +to be exterminated, too independent to be enslaved.</p> +<p>But if horsemanship had, in these cases, a levelling tendency it +would have the very opposite when a riding tribe conquered a non-riding +one. The conquerors would, as much as possible, keep the art and +mystery of horsemanship hereditary among themselves, and become a Ritterschaft +or chivalrous caste. And they would be able to do so: because +the conquered race would not care or dare to learn the new and dangerous +art. There are persons, even in England, who can never learn to +ride. There are whole populations in Europe, even now, when races +have become almost indistinguishably mixed, who seem unable to learn. +And this must have been still more the case when the races were more +strongly separated in blood and habits. So the Teutonic chief, +with his gesitha, comites, or select band of knights, who had received +from him, as Tacitus has it, the war-horse and the lance, established +himself as the natural ruler—and oppressor—of the non-riding +populations; first over the aborigines of Germany proper, tribes who +seem to have been enslaved, and their names lost, before the time of +Tacitus; and then over the non-riding Romans and Gauls to the South +and West, and the Wendish and Sclavonic tribes to the East. Very +few in numbers, but mighty in their unequalled capacity of body and +mind, and in their terrible horsemanship, the Teutonic Ritterschaft +literally rode roughshod over the old world; never checked, but when +they came in contact with the free-riding hordes of the Eastern steppes; +and so established an equestrian caste, of which the ιππεις of +Athens and the Equites of Rome had been only hints ending in failure +and absorption.</p> +<p>Of that equestrian caste the symbol was the horse. The favourite, +and therefore the chosen sacrifice of Odin, their ancestor and God, +the horse’s flesh was eaten at the sacrificial meal; the horse’s +head, hung on the ash in Odin’s wood, gave forth oracular responses. +As Christianity came in, and the eating of horse-flesh was forbidden +as impiety by the Church, while his oracles dwindled down to such as +that which Falada’s dead head gives to the goose-girl in the German +tale, the magic power of the horse figured only in ballads and legends: +but his real power remained.</p> +<p>The art of riding became an hereditary and exclusive science—at +last a pedantry, hampered by absurd etiquettes, and worse than useless +traditions; but the power and right to ride remained on the whole the +mark of the dominant caste. Terribly did they often abuse that +special power. The faculty of making a horse carry him no more +makes a man a good man, than the faculties of making money, making speeches, +making books, or making a noise about public abuses. And of all +ruffians, the worst, if history is to be trusted, is the ruffian on +a horse; to whose brutality of mind is superadded the brute power of +his beast. A ruffian on a horse—what is there that he will +not ride over, and ride on, careless and proud of his own shame? +When the ancient chivalry of France descended to that level, or rather +delegated their functions to mercenaries of that level—when the +knightly hosts who fought before Jerusalem allowed themselves to be +superseded by the dragoons and dragonnades of Louis XIV.—then +the end of the French chivalry was at hand, and came. But centuries +before that shameful fall there had come in with Christianity the new +thought, that domination meant responsibility; that responsibility demanded +virtue. The words which denoted rank, came to denote likewise +high moral excellencies. The nobilis, or man who was known, and +therefore subject to public opinion, was bound to behave nobly. +The gentleman—gentile-man—who respected his own gens, or +family and pedigree, was bound to be gentle. The courtier, who +had picked up at court some touch of Roman civilisation from Roman ecclesiastics, +was bound to be courteous. He who held an “honour” +or “edel” of land was bound to be honourable; and he who +held a “weorthig,” or worthy, thereof, was bound himself +to be worthy. In like wise, he who had the right to ride a horse, +was expected to be chivalrous in all matters befitting the hereditary +ruler, who owed a sacred debt to a long line of forefathers, as well +as to the state in which he dwelt; all dignity, courtesy, purity, self-restraint, +devotion—such as they were understood in those rough days—centred +themselves round the idea of the rider as the attributes of the man +whose supposed duty, as well as his supposed right, was to govern his +fellow-men, by example, as well as by law and force;—attributes +which gathered themselves up into that one word—Chivalry: an idea, +which, perfect or imperfect, God forbid that mankind should ever forget, +till it has become the possession—as it is the God-given right—of +the poorest slave that ever trudged on foot; and every collier-lad shall +have become—as some of those Barnsley men proved but the other +day they had become already:</p> +<blockquote><p>A very gentle perfect knight.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Very unfaithful was chivalry to its ideal—as all men are to +all ideals. But bear in mind, that if the horse was the symbol +of the ruling caste, it was not at first its only strength. Unless +that caste had had at first spiritual, as well as physical force on +its side, it would have been soon destroyed—nay, it would have +destroyed itself—by internecine civil war. And we must believe +that those Franks, Goths, Lombards, and Burgunds, who in the early Middle +Age leaped on the backs (to use Mr. Carlyle’s expression) of the +Roman nations, were actually, in all senses of the word, better men +than those whom they conquered. We must believe it from reason; +for if not, how could they, numerically few, have held for a year, much +more for centuries, against millions, their dangerous elevation? +We must believe it, unless we take Tacitus’s “Germania,” +which I absolutely refuse to do, for a romance. We must believe +that they were better than the Romanised nations whom they conquered, +because the writers of those nations, Augustine, Salvian, and Sidonius +Apollinaris, for example, say that they were such, and give proof thereof. +Not good men according to our higher standard—far from it; though +Sidonius’s picture of Theodoric, the East Goth, in his palace +of Narbonne, is the picture of an eminently good and wise ruler. +But not good, I say, as a rule—the Franks, alas! often very bad +men: but still better, wiser, abler, than those whom they ruled. +We must believe too, that they were better, in every sense of the word, +than those tribes on their eastern frontier, whom they conquered in +after centuries, unless we discredit (which we have no reason to do) +the accounts which the Roman and Greek writers give of the horrible +savagery of those tribes.</p> +<p>So it was in later centuries. One cannot read fairly the history +of the Middle Ages without seeing that the robber knight of Germany +or of France, who figures so much in modern novels, must have been the +exception, and not the rule: that an aristocracy which lived by the +saddle would have as little chance of perpetuating itself, as a priesthood +composed of hypocrites and profligates; that the mediæval Nobility +has been as much slandered as the mediæval Church; and the exceptions +taken—as more salient and exciting—for the average: that +side by side with ruffians like Gaston de Foix hundreds of honest gentlemen +were trying to do their duty to the best of their light, and were raising, +and not depressing, the masses below them—one very important item +in that duty being, the doing the whole fighting of the country at their +own expense, instead of leaving it to a standing army of mercenaries, +at the beck and call of a despot; and that, as M. de Tocqueville says: +“In feudal times, the Nobility were regarded pretty much as the +government is regarded in our own; the burdens they imposed were endured +in consequence of the security they afforded. The nobles had many +irksome privileges; they possessed many onerous rights: but they maintained +public order, they administered justice, they caused the law to be executed, +they came to the relief of the weak, they conducted the business of +the community. In proportion as they ceased to do these things, +the burden of their privileges appeared more oppressive, and their existence +became an anomaly in proportion as they ceased to do these things.” +And the Ancien Régime may be defined as the period in which they +ceased to do these things—in which they began to play the idlers, +and expected to take their old wages without doing their old work.</p> +<p>But in any case, government by a ruling caste, whether of the patriarchal +or of the feudal kind, is no ideal or permanent state of society. +So far from it, it is but the first or second step out of primeval savagery. +For the more a ruling race becomes conscious of its own duty, and not +merely of its own power—the more it learns to regard its peculiar +gifts as entrusted to it for the good of men—so much the more +earnestly will it labour to raise the masses below to its own level, +by imparting to them its own light; and so will it continually tend +to abolish itself, by producing a general equality, moral and intellectual; +and fulfil that law of self-sacrifice which is the beginning and the +end of all virtue.</p> +<p>A race of noblest men and women, trying to make all below them as +noble as themselves—that is at least a fair ideal, tending toward, +though it has not reached, the highest ideal of all.</p> +<p>But suppose that the very opposite tendency—inherent in the +heart of every child of man—should conquer. Suppose the +ruling caste no longer the physical, intellectual, and moral superiors +of the mass, but their equals. Suppose them—shameful, but +not without example—actually sunk to be their inferiors. +And that such a fall did come—nay, that it must have come—is +matter of history. And its cause, like all social causes, was +not a political nor a physical, but a moral cause. The profligacy +of the French and Italian aristocracies, in the sixteenth century, avenged +itself on them by a curse (derived from the newly-discovered America) +from which they never recovered. The Spanish aristocracy suffered, +I doubt not very severely. The English and German, owing to the +superior homeliness and purity of ruling their lives, hardly at all. +But the continental caste, instead of recruiting their tainted blood +by healthy blood from below, did all, under pretence of keeping it pure, +to keep it tainted by continual intermarriage; and paid, in increasing +weakness of body and mind, the penalty of their exclusive pride. +It is impossible for anyone who reads the French memoirs of the sixteenth +and seventeenth centuries, not to perceive, if he be wise, that the +aristocracy therein depicted was ripe for ruin—yea, already ruined—under +any form of government whatsoever, independent of all political changes. +Indeed, many of the political changes were not the causes but the effects +of the demoralisation of the noblesse. Historians will tell you +how, as early as the beginning of the seventeenth century, Henry IV. +complained that the nobles were quitting their country districts; how +succeeding kings and statesmen, notably Richelieu and Louis XIV., tempted +the noblesse up to Paris, that they might become mere courtiers, instead +of powerful country gentlemen; how those who remained behind were only +the poor <i>hobereaux</i>, little hobby-hawks among the gentry, who +considered it degradation to help in governing the parish, as their +forefathers had governed it, and lived shabbily in their chateaux, grinding +the last farthing out of their tenants, that they might spend it in +town during the winter. No wonder that with such an aristocracy, +who had renounced that very duty of governing the country, for which +alone they and their forefathers had existed, there arose government +by intendants and sub-delegates, and all the other evils of administrative +centralisation, which M. de Tocqueville anatomises and deplores. +But what was the cause of the curse? Their moral degradation. +What drew them up to Paris save vanity and profligacy? What kept +them from intermarrying with the middle class save pride? What +made them give up the office of governors save idleness? And if +vanity, profligacy, pride, and idleness be not injustices and moral +vices, what are?</p> +<p>The race of heroic knights and nobles who fought under the walls +of Jerusalem—who wrestled, and not in vain, for centuries with +the equally heroic English, in defence of their native soil—who +had set to all Europe the example of all knightly virtues, had rotted +down to this; their only virtue left, as Mr. Carlyle says, being—a +perfect readiness to fight duels.</p> +<p>Every Intendant, chosen by the Comptroller-General out of the lower-born +members of the Council of State; a needy young plebeian with his fortune +to make, and a stranger to the province, was, in spite of his greed, +ambition, chicane, arbitrary tyranny, a better man—abler, more +energetic, and often, to judge from the pages of De Tocqueville, with +far more sympathy and mercy for the wretched peasantry—than was +the count or marquis in the chateau above, who looked down on him as +a roturier; and let him nevertheless become first his deputy, and then +his master.</p> +<p>Understand me—I am not speaking against the hereditary principle +of the Ancien Régime, but against its caste principle—two +widely different elements, continually confounded nowadays.</p> +<p>The hereditary principle is good, because it is founded on fact and +nature. If men’s minds come into the world blank sheets +of paper—which I much doubt—every other part and faculty +of them comes in stamped with hereditary tendencies and peculiarities. +There are such things as transmitted capabilities for good and for evil; +and as surely as the offspring of a good horse or dog is likely to be +good, so is the offspring of a good man, and still more of a good woman. +If the parents have any special ability, their children will probably +inherit it, at least in part; and over and above, will have it developed +in them by an education worthy of their parents and themselves. +If man were—what he is not—a healthy and normal species, +a permanent hereditary caste might go on intermarrying, and so perpetuate +itself. But the same moral reason which would make such a caste +dangerous—indeed, fatal to the liberty and development of mankind, +makes it happily impossible. Crimes and follies are certain, after +a few generations, to weaken the powers of any human caste; and unless +it supplements its own weakness by mingling again with the common stock +of humanity, it must sink under that weakness, as the ancient noblesse +sank by its own vice. Of course there were exceptions. The +French Revolution brought those exceptions out into strong light; and +like every day of judgment, divided between the good and the evil. +But it lies not in exceptions to save a caste, or an institution; and +a few Richelieus, Liancourts, Rochefoucaulds, Noailles, Lafayettes were +but the storks among the cranes involved in the wholesale doom due not +to each individual, but to a system and a class.</p> +<p>Profligacy, pride, idleness—these are the vices which we have +to lay to the charge of the Teutonic Nobility of the Ancien Régime +in France especially; and (though in a less degree perhaps) over the +whole continent of Europe. But below them, and perhaps the cause +of them all, lay another and deeper vice—godlessness—atheism.</p> +<p>I do not mean merely want of religion, doctrinal unbelief. +I mean want of belief in duty, in responsibility. Want of belief +that there was a living God governing the universe, who had set them +their work, and would judge them according to their work. And +therefore, want of belief, yea, utter unconsciousness, that they were +set in their places to make the masses below them better men; to impart +to them their own civilisation, to raise them to their own level. +They would have shrunk from that which I just now defined as the true +duty of an aristocracy, just because it would have seemed to them madness +to abolish themselves. But the process of abolition went on, nevertheless, +only now from without instead of from within. So it must always +be, in such a case. If a ruling class will not try to raise the +masses to their own level, the masses will try to drag them down to +theirs. That sense of justice which allowed privileges, when they +were as strictly official privileges as the salary of a judge, or the +immunity of a member of the House of Commons; when they were earned, +as in the Middle Age, by severe education, earnest labour, and life +and death responsibility in peace and war, will demand the abolition +of those privileges, when no work is done in return for them, with a +voice which must be heard, for it is the voice of truth and justice.</p> +<p>But with that righteous voice will mingle another, most wicked, and +yet, alas! most flattering to poor humanity—the voice of envy, +simple and undisguised; of envy, which moralists hold to be one of the +basest of human passions; which can never be justified, however hateful +or unworthy be the envied man. And when a whole people, or even +a majority thereof, shall be possessed by that, what is there that they +will not do?</p> +<p>Some are surprised and puzzled when they find, in the French Revolution +of 1793, the noblest and the foulest characters labouring in concert, +and side by side—often, too, paradoxical as it may seem, united +in the same personage. The explanation is simple. Justice +inspired the one; the other was the child of simple envy. But +this passion of envy, if it becomes permanent and popular, may avenge +itself, like all other sins. A nation may say to itself, “Provided +we have no superiors to fall our pride, we are content. Liberty +is a slight matter, provided we have equality. Let us be slaves, +provided we are all slaves alike.” It may destroy every +standard of humanity above its own mean average; it may forget that +the old ruling class, in spite of all its defects and crimes, did at +least pretend to represent something higher than man’s necessary +wants, plus the greed of amassing money; never meeting (at least in +the country districts) any one wiser or more refined than an official +or a priest drawn from the peasant class, it may lose the belief that +any standard higher than that is needed; and, all but forgetting the +very existence of civilisation, sink contented into a dead level of +intellectual mediocrity and moral barbarism, crying, “Let us eat +and drink, for to-morrow we die.”</p> +<p>A nation in such a temper will surely be taken at its word. +Where the carcase is, there the eagles will be gathered together; and +there will not be wanting to such nations—as there were not wanting +in old Greece and Rome—despots who will give them all they want, +and more, and say to them: “Yes, you shall eat and drink; and +yet you shall not die. For I, while I take care of your mortal +bodies, will see that care is taken of your immortal souls.”</p> +<p>For there are those who have discovered, with the kings of the Holy +Alliance, that infidelity and scepticism are political mistakes, not +so much because they promote vice, as because they promote (or are supposed +to promote) free thought; who see that religion (no matter of what quality) +is a most valuable assistant to the duties of a minister of police. +They will quote in their own behalf Montesquieu’s opinion that +religion is a column necessary to sustain the social edifice; they will +quote, too, that sound and true saying of De Tocqueville’s: <a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">{1}</a> +“If the first American who might be met, either in his own country, +or abroad, were to be stopped and asked whether he considered religion +useful to the stability of the laws and the good order of society, he +would answer, without hesitation, that no civilised society, but more +especially none in a state of freedom, can exist without religion. +Respect for religion is, in his eyes, the greatest guarantee of the +stability of the State, and of the safety of the community. Those +who are ignorant of the science of government, know that fact at least.”</p> +<p>M. de Tocqueville, when he wrote these words, was lamenting that +in France, “freedom was forsaken;” “a thing for which +it is said that no one any longer cares in France.” He did +not, it seems to me, perceive that, as in America the best guarantee +of freedom is the reverence for a religion or religions, which are free +themselves, and which teach men to be free; so in other countries the +best guarantee of slavery is, reverence for religions which are not +free, and which teach men to be slaves.</p> +<p>But what M. de Tocqueville did not see, there are others who will +see; who will say: “If religion be the pillar of political and +social order, there is an order which is best supported by a religion +which is adverse to free thought, free speech, free conscience, free +communion between man and God. The more enervating the superstition, +the more exacting and tyrannous its priesthood, the more it will do +our work, if we help it to do its own. If it permit us to enslave +the body, we will permit it to enslave the soul.”</p> +<p>And so may be inaugurated a period of that organised anarchy of which +the poet says:</p> +<blockquote><p>It is not life, but death, when nothing stirs.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>LECTURE II—CENTRALISATION</h2> +<p>The degradation of the European nobility caused, of course, the increase +of the kingly power, and opened the way to central despotisms. +The bourgeoisie, the commercial middle class, whatever were its virtues, +its value, its real courage, were never able to stand alone against +the kings. Their capital, being invested in trade, was necessarily +subject to such sudden dangers from war, political change, bad seasons, +and so forth, that its holders, however individually brave, were timid +as a class. They could never hold out on strike against the governments, +and had to submit to the powers that were, whatever they were, under +penalty of ruin.</p> +<p>But on the Continent, and especially in France and Germany, unable +to strengthen itself by intermarriage with the noblesse, they retained +that timidity which is the fruit of the insecurity of trade; and had +to submit to a more and more centralised despotism, and grow up as they +could, in the face of exasperating hindrances to wealth, to education, +to the possession, in many parts of France, of large landed estates; +leaving the noblesse to decay in isolated uselessness and weakness, +and in many cases debt and poverty.</p> +<p>The system—or rather anarchy—according to which France +was governed during this transitional period, may be read in that work +of M. de Tocqueville’s which I have already quoted, and which +is accessible to all classes, through Mr. H. Reeve’s excellent +translation. Every student of history is, of course, well acquainted +with that book. But as there is reason to fear, from language +which is becoming once more too common, both in speech and writing, +that the general public either do not know it, or have not understood +it, I shall take the liberty of quoting from it somewhat largely. +I am justified in so doing by the fact that M. de Tocqueville’s +book is founded on researches into the French Archives, which have been +made (as far as I am aware) only by him; and contains innumerable significant +facts, which are to be found (as far as I am aware) in no other accessible +work.</p> +<p>The French people—says M. de Tocqueville—made, in 1789, +the greatest effort which was ever made by any nation to cut, so to +speak, their destiny in halves, and to separate by an abyss that which +they had heretofore been, from that which they sought to become hereafter. +But he had long thought that they had succeeded in this singular attempt +much less than was supposed abroad; and less than they had at first +supposed themselves. He was convinced that they had unconsciously +retained, from the former state of society, most of the sentiments, +the habits, and even the opinions, by means of which they had effected +the destruction of that state of things; and that, without intending +it, they had used its remains to rebuild the edifice of modern society. +This is his thesis, and this he proves, it seems to me, incontestably +by documentary evidence. Not only does he find habits which we +suppose—or supposed till lately—to have died with the eighteenth +century, still living and working, at least in France, in the nineteenth, +but the new opinions which we look on usually as the special children +of the nineteenth century, he shows to have been born in the eighteenth. +France, he considers, is still at heart what the Ancien Régime +made her.</p> +<p>He shows that the hatred of the ruling caste, the intense determination +to gain and keep equality, even at the expense of liberty, had been +long growing up, under those influences of which I spoke in my first +lecture.</p> +<p>He shows, moreover, that the acquiescence in a centralised administration; +the expectation that the government should do everything for the people, +and nothing for themselves; the consequent loss of local liberties, +local peculiarities; the helplessness of the towns and the parishes: +and all which issued in making Paris France, and subjecting the whole +of a vast country to the arbitrary dictates of a knot of despots in +the capital, was not the fruit of the Revolution, but of the Ancien +Régime which preceded it; and that Robespierre and his “Comité +de Salut Public,” and commissioners sent forth to the four winds +of heaven in bonnet rouge and carmagnole complete, to build up and pull +down, according to their wicked will, were only handling, somewhat more +roughly, the same wires which had been handled for several generations +by the Comptroller-General and Council of State, with their provincial +intendants.</p> +<p>“Do you know,” said Law to the Marquis d’Argenson, +“that this kingdom of France is governed by thirty intendants? +You have neither parliament, nor estates, nor governors. It is +upon thirty masters of request, despatched into the provinces, that +their evil or their good, their fertility or their sterility, entirely +depend.”</p> +<p>To do everything for the people, and let them do nothing for themselves—this +was the Ancien Régime. To be more wise and more loving +than Almighty God, who certainly does not do everything for the sons +of men, but forces them to labour for themselves by bitter need, and +after a most Spartan mode of education; who allows them to burn their +hands as often as they are foolish enough to put them into the fire; +and to be filled with the fruits of their own folly, even though the +folly be one of necessary ignorance; treating them with that seeming +neglect which is after all the most provident care, because by it alone +can men be trained to experience, self-help, science, true humanity; +and so become not tolerably harmless dolls, but men and women worthy +of the name; with</p> +<blockquote><p>The reason firm, the temperate will,<br /> +Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;<br /> +The perfect spirit, nobly planned<br /> +To cheer, to counsel, and command.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Such seems to be the education and government appointed for man by +the voluntatem Dei in rebus revelatum, and the education, therefore, +which the man of science will accept and carry out. But the men +of the Ancien Régime—in as far as it was a Régime +at all—tried to be wiser than the Almighty. Why not? +They were not the first, nor will be the last, by many who have made +the same attempt. So this Council of State settled arbitrarily, +not only taxes, and militia, and roads, but anything and everything. +Its members meddled, with their whole hearts and minds. They tried +to teach agriculture by schools and pamphlets and prizes; they sent +out plans for every public work. A town could not establish an +octroi, levy a rate, mortgage, sell, sue, farm, or administer their +property, without an order in council. The Government ordered +public rejoicings, saw to the firing of salutes, and illuminating of +houses—in one case mentioned by M. de Tocqueville, they fined +a member of the burgher guard for absenting himself from a Te Deum. +All self-government was gone. A country parish was, says Turgot, +nothing but “an assemblage of cabins, and of inhabitants as passive +as the cabins they dwelt in.” Without an order of council, +the parish could not mend the steeple after a storm, or repair the parsonage +gable. If they grumbled at the intendant, he threw some of the +chief persons into prison, and made the parish pay the expenses of the +horse patrol, which formed the arbitrary police of France. Everywhere +was meddling. There were reports on statistics—circumstantial, +inaccurate, and useless—as statistics are too often wont to be. +Sometimes, when the people were starving, the Government sent down charitable +donations to certain parishes, on condition that the inhabitants should +raise a sum on their part. When the sum offered was sufficient, +the Comptroller-General wrote on the margin, when he returned the report +to the intendant, “Good—express satisfaction.” +If it was more than sufficient, he wrote, “Good—express +satisfaction and sensibility.” There is nothing new under +the sun. In 1761, the Government, jealous enough of newspapers, +determined to start one for itself, and for that purpose took under +its tutelage the <i>Gazette de France</i>. So the public newsmongers +were of course to be the provincial intendants, and their sub-newsmongers, +of course, the sub-delegates.</p> +<p>But alas! the poor sub-delegates seem to have found either very little +news, or very little which it was politic to publish. One reports +that a smuggler of salt has been hung, and has displayed great courage; +another that a woman in his district has had three girls at a birth; +another that a dreadful storm has happened, but—has done no mischief; +a fourth—living in some specially favoured Utopia—declares +that in spite of all his efforts he has found nothing worth recording, +but that he himself will subscribe to so useful a journal, and will +exhort all respectable persons to follow his example: in spite of which +loyal endeavours, the journal seems to have proved a failure, to the +great disgust of the king and his minister, who had of course expected +to secure fine weather by nailing, like the schoolboy before a holiday, +the hand of the weather-glass.</p> +<p>Well had it been, if the intermeddling of this bureaucracy had stopped +there. But, by a process of evocation (as it was called), more +and more causes, criminal as well as civil, were withdrawn from the +regular tribunals, to those of the intendants and the Council. +Before the intendant all the lower order of people were generally sent +for trial. Bread-riots were a common cause of such trials, and +M. de Tocqueville asserts that he has found sentences, delivered by +the intendant, and a local council chosen by himself, by which men were +condemned to the galleys, and even to death. Under such a system, +under which an intendant must have felt it his interest to pretend at +all risks, that all was going right, and to regard any disturbance as +a dangerous exposure of himself and his chiefs—one can understand +easily enough that scene which Mr. Carlyle has dramatised from Lacretelle, +concerning the canaille, the masses, as we used to call them a generation +since:</p> +<p>“A dumb generation—their voice only an inarticulate cry. +Spokesman, in the king’s council, in the world’s forum, +they have none that finds credence. At rare intervals (as now, +in 1775) they will fling down their hoes, and hammers; and, to the astonishment +of mankind, flock hither and thither, dangerous, aimless, get the length +even of Versailles. Turgot is altering the corn trade, abrogating +the absurdest corn laws; there is dearth, real, or were it even factitious, +an indubitable scarcity of broad. And so, on the 2nd day of May, +1775, these waste multitudes do here, at Versailles chateau, in widespread +wretchedness, in sallow faces, squalor, winged raggedness, present as +in legible hieroglyphic writing their petition of grievances. +The chateau-gates must be shut; but the king will appear on the balcony +and speak to them. They have seen the king’s face; their +petition of grievances has been, if not read, looked at. In answer, +two of them are hanged, on a new gallows forty feet high, and the rest +driven back to their dens for a time.”</p> +<p>Of course. What more exasperating and inexpiable insult to +the ruling powers was possible than this? To persist in being +needy and wretched, when a whole bureaucracy is toiling day and night +to make them prosperous and happy? An insult only to be avenged +in blood. Remark meanwhile, that this centralised bureaucracy +was a failure; that after all the trouble taken to govern these masses, +they were not governed, in the sense of being made better, and not worse. +The truth is, that no centralised bureaucracy, or so-called “paternal +government,” yet invented on earth, has been anything but a failure, +or is it like to be anything else: because it is founded on an error; +because it regards and treats men as that which they are not, as things; +and not as that which they are, as persons. If the bureaucracy +were a mere Briareus giant, with a hundred hands, helping the weak throughout +the length and breadth of the empire, the system might be at least tolerable. +But what if the Government were not a Briareus with a hundred hands, +but a Hydra with a hundred heads and mouths, each far more intent on +helping itself than on helping the people? What if sub-delegates +and other officials, holding office at the will of the intendant, had +to live, and even provide against a rainy day? What if intendants, +holding office at the will of the Comptroller-General, had to do more +than live, and found it prudent to realise as large a fortune as possible, +not only against disgrace, but against success, and the dignity fit +for a new member of the Noblesse de la Robe? Would not the system, +then, soon become intolerable? Would there not be evil times for +the masses, till they became something more than masses?</p> +<p>It is an ugly name, that of “The Masses,” for the great +majority of human beings in a nation. He who uses it speaks of +them not as human beings, but as things; and as things not bound together +in one living body, but lying in a fortuitous heap. A swarm of +ants is not a mass. It has a polity and a unity. Not the +ants but the fir-needles and sticks, of which the ants have piled their +nest, are a mass.</p> +<p>The term, I believe, was invented during the Ancien Régime. +Whether it was or not, it expresses very accurately the life of the +many in those days. No one would speak, if he wished to speak +exactly, of the masses of the United States; for there every man is, +or is presumed to be, a personage; with his own independence, his own +activities, his own rights and duties. No one, I believe, would +have talked of the masses in the old feudal times; for then each individual +was someone’s man, bound to his master by ties of mutual service, +just or unjust, honourable or base, but still giving him a personality +of duties and rights, and dividing him from his class.</p> +<p>Dividing, I say. The poor of the Middle Age had little sense +of a common humanity. Those who owned allegiance to the lord in +the next valley were not their brothers; and at their own lord’s +bidding, they buckled on sword and slew the next lord’s men, with +joyful heart and good conscience. Only now and then misery compressed +them into masses; and they ran together, as sheep run together to face +a dog. Some wholesale wrong made them aware that they were brothers, +at least in the power of starving; and they joined in the cry which +was heard, I believe, in Mecklenburg as late as 1790: “Den Edelman +wille wi dodschlagen.” Then, in Wat Tyler’s insurrections, +in Munster Anabaptisms, in Jacqueries, they proved themselves to be +masses, if nothing better, striking for awhile, by the mere weight of +numbers, blows terrible, though aimless—soon to be dispersed and +slain in their turn by a disciplined and compact aristocracy. +Yet not always dispersed, if they could find a leader; as the Polish +nobles discovered to their cost in the middle of the seventeenth century. +Then Bogdan the Cossack, a wild warrior, not without his sins, but having +deserved well of James Sobieski and the Poles, found that the neighbouring +noble’s steward had taken a fancy to his windmill and his farm +upon the Dnieper. He was thrown into prison on a frivolous charge, +and escaped to the Tatars, leaving his wife dishonoured, his house burnt, +his infant lost in the flames, his eldest son scourged for protesting +against the wrong. And he returned, at the head of an army of +Tatars, Socinians, Greeks, or what not, to set free the serfs, and exterminate +Jesuits, Jews, and nobles, throughout Podolia, Volhynia, Red Russia; +to desecrate the altars of God, and slay his servants; to destroy the +nobles by lingering tortures; to strip noble ladies and maidens, and +hunt them to death with the whips of his Cossacks; and after defeating +the nobles in battle after battle, to inaugurate an era of misery and +anarchy from which Poland never recovered.</p> +<p>Thus did the masses of Southern Poland discover, for one generation +at least, that they were not many things, but one thing; a class, capable +of brotherhood and unity, though, alas! only of such as belongs to a +pack of wolves. But such outbursts as this were rare exceptions. +In general, feudalism kept the people divided, and therefore helpless. +And as feudalism died out, and with it the personal self-respect and +loyalty which were engendered by the old relations of master and servant, +the division still remained; and the people, in France especially, became +merely masses, a swarm of incoherent and disorganised things intent +on the necessaries of daily bread, like mites crawling over each other +in a cheese.</p> +<p>Out of this mass were struggling upwards perpetually, all who had +a little ambition, a little scholarship, or a little money, endeavouring +to become members of the middle class by obtaining a Government appointment. +“A man,” says M. de Tocqueville, “endowed with some +education and small means, thought it not decorous to die without having +been a Government officer.” “Every man, according +to his condition,” says a contemporary writer, “wants to +be something by command of the king.”</p> +<p>It was not merely the “natural vanity” of which M. de +Tocqueville accuses his countrymen, which stirred up in them this eagerness +after place; for we see the same eagerness in other nations of the Continent, +who cannot be accused (as wholes) of that weakness. The fact is, +a Government place, or a Government decoration, cross, ribbon, or what +not, is, in a country where self-government is unknown or dead, the +only method, save literary fame, which is left to men in order to assert +themselves either to themselves or their fellow-men.</p> +<p>A British or American shopkeeper or farmer asks nothing of his Government. +He can, if he chooses, be elected to some local office (generally unsalaried) +by the votes of his fellow-citizens. But that is his right, and +adds nothing to his respectability. The test of that latter, in +a country where all honest callings are equally honourable, is the amount +of money he can make; and a very sound practical test that is, in a +country where intellect and capital are free. Beyond that, he +is what he is, and wishes to be no more, save what he can make himself. +He has his rights, guaranteed by law and public opinion; and as long +as he stands within them, and (as he well phrases it) behaves like a +gentleman, he considers himself as good as any man; and so he is. +But under the bureaucratic Régime of the Continent, if a man +had not “something by command of the king,” he was nothing; +and something he naturally wished to be, even by means of a Government +which he disliked and despised. So in France, where innumerable +petty posts were regular articles of sale, anyone, it seems, who had +saved a little money, found it most profitable to invest it in a beadledom +of some kind—to the great detriment of the country, for he thus +withdrew his capital from trade; but to his own clear gain, for he thereby +purchased some immunity from public burdens, and, as it were, compounded +once and for all for his taxes. The petty German princes, it seems, +followed the example of France, and sold their little beadledoms likewise; +but even where offices were not sold, they must be obtained by any and +every means, by everyone who desired not to be as other men were, and +to become Notables, as they were called in France; so he migrated from +the country into the nearest town, and became a member of some small +body-guild, town council, or what not, bodies which were infinite in +number. In one small town M. de Tocqueville discovers thirty-six +such bodies, “separated from each other by diminutive privileges, +the least honourable of which was still a mark of honour.” +Quarrelling perpetually with each other for precedence, despising and +oppressing the very <i>menu peuple</i> from whom they had for the most +part sprung, these innumerable small bodies, instead of uniting their +class, only served to split it up more and more; and when the Revolution +broke them up, once and for all, with all other privileges whatsoever, +no bond of union was left; and each man stood alone, proud of his “individuality”—his +complete social isolation; till he discovered that, in ridding himself +of superiors, he had rid himself also of fellows; fulfilling, every +man in his own person, the old fable of the bundle of sticks; and had +to submit, under the Consulate and the Empire, to a tyranny to which +the Ancien Régime was freedom itself.</p> +<p>For, in France at least, the Ancien Régime was no tyranny. +The middle and upper classes had individual liberty—it may be, +only too much; the liberty of disobeying a Government which they did +not respect. “However submissive the French may have been +before the Revolution to the will of the king, one sort of obedience +was altogether unknown to them. They knew not what it was to bow +before an illegitimate and contested power—a power but little +honoured, frequently despised, but willingly endured because it may +be serviceable, or because it may hurt. To that degrading form +of servitude they were ever strangers. The king inspired them +with feelings . . . which have become incomprehensible to this generation +. . . They loved him with the affection due to a father; they revered +him with the respect due to God. In submitting to the most arbitrary +of his commands, they yielded less to compulsion than to loyalty; and +thus they frequently preserved great freedom of mind, even in the most +complete dependence. This liberty, irregular, intermittent,” +says M. de Tocqueville, “helped to form those vigorous characters, +those proud and daring spirits, which were to make the French Revolution +at once the object of the admiration and the terror of succeeding generations.”</p> +<p>This liberty—too much akin to anarchy, in which indeed it issued +for awhile—seems to have asserted itself in continual petty resistance +to officials whom they did not respect, and who, in their turn, were +more than a little afraid of the very men out of whose ranks they had +sprung.</p> +<p>The French Government—one may say, every Government on the +Continent in those days—had the special weakness of all bureaucracies; +namely, that want of moral force which compels them to fall back at +last on physical force, and transforms the ruler into a bully, and the +soldier into a policeman and a gaoler. A Government of parvenus, +uncertain of its own position, will be continually trying to assert +itself to itself, by vexatious intermeddling and intruding pretensions; +and then, when it meets with the resistance of free and rational spirits, +will either recoil in awkward cowardice, or fly into a passion, and +appeal to the halter and the sword. Such a Government can never +take itself for granted, because it knows that it is not taken for granted +by the people. It never can possess the quiet assurance, the courteous +dignity, without swagger, yet without hesitation, which belongs to hereditary +legislators; by which term is to be understood, not merely kings, not +merely noblemen, but every citizen of a free nation, however democratic, +who has received from his forefathers the right, the duty, and the example +of self-government.</p> +<p>Such was the political and social state of the Ancien Régime, +not only in France, but if we are to trust (as we must trust) M. de +Tocqueville, in almost every nation in Europe, except Britain.</p> +<p>And as for its moral state. We must look for that—if +we have need, which happily all have not—in its lighter literature.</p> +<p>I shall not trouble you with criticisms on French memoirs—of +which those of Madame de Sévigné are on the whole, the +most painful (as witness her comments on the Marquise de Brinvilliers’s +execution), because written by a woman better and more human than ordinary. +Nor with “Menagiana,” or other ‘ana’s—as +vain and artificial as they are often foul; nor with novels and poems, +long since deservedly forgotten. On the first perusal of this +lighter literature, you will be charmed with the ease, grace, lightness +with which everything is said. On the second, you will be somewhat +cured of your admiration, as you perceive how little there is to say. +The head proves to be nothing but a cunning mask, with no brains inside. +Especially is this true of a book, which I must beg those who have read +it already, to recollect. To read it I recommend no human being. +We may consider it, as it was considered in its time, the typical novel +of the Ancien Régime. A picture of Spanish society, written +by a Frenchman, it was held to be—and doubtless with reason—a +picture of the whole European world. Its French editor (of 1836) +calls it a <i>grande épopée</i>; “one of the most +prodigious efforts of intelligence, exhausting all forms of humanity”—in +fact, a second Shakespeare, according to the lights of the year 1715. +I mean, of course, “Gil Blas.” So picturesque is the +book, that it has furnished inexhaustible motifs to the draughtsman. +So excellent is its workmanship, that the enthusiastic editor of 1836 +tells us—and doubtless he knows best—that it is the classic +model of the French tongue; and that, as Le Sage “had embraced +all that belonged to man in his composition, he dared to prescribe to +himself to embrace the whole French language in his work.” +It has been the parent of a whole school of literature—the Bible +of tens of thousands, with admiring commentators in plenty; on whose +souls may God have mercy!</p> +<p>And no wonder. The book has a solid value, and will always +have, not merely from its perfect art (according to its own measure +and intention), but from its perfect truthfulness. It is the Ancien +Régime itself. It set forth to the men thereof, themselves, +without veil or cowardly reticence of any kind; and inasmuch as every +man loves himself, the Ancien Régime loved “Gil Blas,” +and said, “The problem of humanity is solved at last.” +But, ye long-suffering powers of heaven, what a solution! It is +beside the matter to call the book ungodly, immoral, base. Le +Sage would have answered: “Of course it is; for so is the world +of which it is a picture.” No; the most notable thing about +the book is its intense stupidity; its dreariness, barrenness, shallowness, +ignorance of the human heart, want of any human interest. If it +be an epos, the actors in it are not men and women, but ferrets—with +here and there, of course, a stray rabbit, on whose brains they may +feed. It is the inhuman mirror of an inhuman age, in which the +healthy human heart can find no more interest than in a pathological +museum.</p> +<p>That last, indeed, “Gil Blas” is; a collection of diseased +specimens. No man or woman in the book, lay or clerical, gentle +or simple, as far as I can remember, do their duty in any wise, even +if they recollect that they have any duty to do. Greed, chicane, +hypocrisy, uselessness are the ruling laws of human society. A +new book of Ecclesiastes, crying, “Vanity of vanity, all is vanity;” +the “conclusion of the whole matter” being left out, and +the new Ecclesiastes rendered thereby diabolic, instead of like that +old one, divine. For, instead of “Fear God and keep his +commandments, for that is the whole duty of main,” Le Sage sends +forth the new conclusion, “Take care of thyself, and feed on thy +neighbours, for that is the whole duty of man.” And very +faithfully was his advice (easy enough to obey at all times) obeyed +for nearly a century after “Gil Blas” appeared.</p> +<p>About the same time there appeared, by a remarkable coincidence, +another work, like it the child of the Ancien Régime, and yet +as opposite to it as light to darkness. If Le Sage drew men as +they were, Fénelon tried at least to draw them as they might +have been and still might be, were they governed by sages and by saints, +according to the laws of God. “Télémaque” +is an ideal—imperfect, doubtless, as all ideals must be in a world +in which God’s ways and thoughts are for ever higher than man’s; +but an ideal nevertheless. If its construction is less complete +than that of “Gil Blas,” it is because its aim is infinitely +higher; because the form has to be subordinated, here and there, to +the matter. If its political economy be imperfect, often chimerical, +it is because the mind of one man must needs have been too weak to bring +into shape and order the chaos, social and economic, which he saw around +him. M. de Lamartine, in his brilliant little life of Fénelon, +does not hesitate to trace to the influence of “Télémaque,” +the Utopias which produced the revolutions of 1793 and 1848. “The +saintly poet was,” he says, “without knowing it, the first +Radical and the first communist of his century.” But it +is something to have preached to princes doctrines till then unknown, +or at least forgotten for many a generation—free trade, peace, +international arbitration, and the “carrière ouverte aux +talents” for all ranks. It is something to have warned his +generation of the dangerous overgrowth of the metropolis; to have prophesied, +as an old Hebrew might have done, that the despotism which he saw around +him would end in a violent revolution. It is something to have +combined the highest Christian morality with a hearty appreciation of +old Greek life; of its reverence for bodily health and prowess; its +joyous and simple country society; its sacrificial feasts, dances, games; +its respect for the gods; its belief that they helped, guided, inspired +the sons of men. It is something to have himself believed in God; +in a living God, who, both in this life and in all lives to come, rewarded +the good and punished the evil by inevitable laws. It is something +to have warned a young prince, in an age of doctrinal bigotry and practical +atheism, that a living God still existed, and that his laws were still +in force; to have shown him Tartarus crowded with the souls of wicked +monarchs, while a few of kingly race rested in Elysium, and among them +old pagans—Inachus, Cecrops, Erichthon, Triptolemus, and Sesostris—rewarded +for ever for having done their duty, each according to his light, to +the flocks which the gods had committed to their care. It is something +to have spoken to a prince, in such an age, without servility, and without +etiquette, of the frailties and the dangers which beset arbitrary rulers; +to have told him that royalty, “when assumed to content oneself, +is a monstrous tyranny; when assumed to fulfil its duties, and to conduct +an innumerable people as a father conducts his children, a crushing +slavery, which demands an heroic courage and patience.”</p> +<p>Let us honour the courtier who dared speak such truths; and still +more the saintly celibate who had sufficient catholicity of mind to +envelop them in old Grecian dress, and, without playing false for a +moment to his own Christianity, seek in the writings of heathen sages +a wider and a healthier view of humanity than was afforded by an ascetic +creed.</p> +<p>No wonder that the appearance of “Télémaque,” +published in Holland without the permission of Fénelon, delighted +throughout Europe that public which is always delighted with new truths, +as long as it is not required to practise them. To read “Télémaque” +was the right and the enjoyment of everyone. To obey it, the duty +only of princes. No wonder that, on the other hand, this “Vengeance +de peuples, leçon des rois,” as M. de Lamartine calls it, +was taken for the bitterest satire by Louis XIV., and completed the +disgrace of one who had dared to teach the future king of France that +he must show himself, in all things, the opposite of his grandfather. +No wonder if Madame de Maintenon and the court looked on its portraits +of wicked ministers and courtiers as caricatures of themselves; portraits +too, which, “composed thus in the palace of Versailles, under +the auspices of that confidence which the king had placed in the preceptor +of his heir, seemed a domestic treason.” No wonder, also, +if the foolish and envious world outside was of the same opinion; and +after enjoying for awhile this exposure of the great ones of the earth, +left “Télémaque” as an Utopia with which private +folks had no concern; and betook themselves to the easier and more practical +model of “Gil Blas.”</p> +<p>But there are solid defects in “Télémaque”—indicating +corresponding defects in the author’s mind—which would have, +in any case, prevented its doing the good work which Fénelon +desired; defects which are natural, as it seems to me, to his position +as a Roman Catholic priest, however saintly and pure, however humane +and liberal. The king, with him, is to be always the father of +his people; which is tantamount to saying, that the people are to be +always children, and in a condition of tutelage; voluntary, if possible: +if not, of tutelage still. Of self-government, and education of +human beings into free manhood by the exercise of self-government, free +will, free thought—of this Fénelon had surely not a glimpse. +A generation or two passed by, and then the peoples of Europe began +to suspect that they were no longer children, but come to manhood; and +determined (after the example of Britain and America) to assume the +rights and duties of manhood, at whatever risk of excesses or mistakes: +and then “Télémaque” was relegated—half +unjustly—as the slavish and childish dream of a past age, into +the schoolroom, where it still remains.</p> +<p>But there is a defect in “Télémaque” which +is perhaps deeper still. No woman in it exercises influence over +man, except for evil. Minerva, the guiding and inspiring spirit, +assumes of course, as Mentor, a male form; but her speech and thought +is essentially masculine, and not feminine. Antiope is a mere +lay-figure, introduced at the end of the book because Telemachus must +needs be allowed to have hope of marrying someone or other. Venus +plays but the same part as she does in the Tannenhäuser legends +of the Middle Age. Her hatred against Telemachus is an integral +element of the plot. She, with the other women or nymphs of the +romance, in spite of all Fénelon’s mercy and courtesy towards +human frailties, really rise no higher than the witches of the Malleus +Maleficanum. Woman—as the old monk held who derived femina +from fe, faith, and minus, less, because women have less faith than +men—is, in “Télémaque,” whenever she +thinks or acts, the temptress, the enchantress; the victim (according +to a very ancient calumny) of passions more violent, often more lawless, +than man’s.</p> +<p>Such a conception of women must make “Télémaque,” +to the end of time, useless as a wholesome book of education. +It must have crippled its influence, especially in France, in its own +time. For there, for good and for evil, woman was asserting more +and more her power, and her right to power, over the mind and heart +of man. Rising from the long degradation of the Middle Ages, which +had really respected her only when unsexed and celibate, the French +woman had assumed, often lawlessly, always triumphantly, her just freedom; +her true place as the equal, the coadjutor, the counsellor of man. +Of all problems connected with the education of a young prince, that +of the influence of woman was, in the France of the Ancien Régime, +the most important. And it was just that which Fénelon +did not, perhaps dared not, try to touch; and which he most certainly +could not have solved. Meanwhile, not only Madame de Maintenon, +but women whose names it were a shame to couple with hers, must have +smiled at, while they hated, the saint who attempted to dispense not +only with them, but with the ideal queen who should have been the helpmeet +of the ideal king.</p> +<p>To those who believe that the world is governed by a living God, +it may seem strange, at first sight, that this moral anarchy was allowed +to endure; that the avenging, and yet most purifying storm of the French +Revolution, inevitable from Louis XIV.’s latter years, was not +allowed to burst two generations sooner than it did. Is not the +answer—that the question always is not of destroying the world, +but of amending it? And that amendment must always come from within, +and not from without? That men must be taught to become men, and +mend their world themselves? To educate men into self-government—that +is the purpose of the government of God; and some of the men of the +eighteenth century did not learn that lesson. As the century rolled +on, the human mind arose out of the slough in which Le Sage found it, +into manifold and beautiful activity, increasing hatred of shams and +lies, increasing hunger after truth and usefulness. With mistakes +and confusions innumerable they worked: but still they worked; planting +good seed; and when the fire of the French Revolution swept over the +land, it burned up the rotten and the withered, only to let the fresh +herbage spring up from underneath.</p> +<p>But that purifying fire was needed. If we inquire why the many +attempts to reform the Ancien Régime, which the eighteenth century +witnessed, were failures one and all; why Pombal failed in Portugal, +Aranda in Spain, Joseph II. in Austria, Ferdinand and Caroline in Naples—for +these last, be it always remembered, began as humane and enlightened +sovereigns, patronising liberal opinions, and labouring to ameliorate +the condition of the poor, till they were driven by the murder of Marie +Antoinette into a paroxysm of rage and terror—why, above all, +Louis XVI., who attempted deeper and wiser reforms than any other sovereign, +failed more disastrously than any—is not the answer this, that +all these reforms would but have cleansed the outside of the cup and +the platter, while they left the inside full of extortion and excess? +It was not merely institutions which required to be reformed, but men +and women. The spirit of “Gil Blas” had to be cast +out. The deadness, selfishness, isolation of men’s souls; +their unbelief in great duties, great common causes, great self-sacrifices—in +a word, their unbelief in God, and themselves, and mankind—all +that had to be reformed; and till that was done all outward reform would +but have left them, at best, in brute ease and peace, to that soulless +degradation, which (as in the Byzantine empire of old, and seeming in +the Chinese empire of to-day) hides the reality of barbarism under a +varnish of civilisation. Men had to be awakened; to be taught +to think for themselves, act for themselves, to dare and suffer side +by side for their country and for their children; in a word, to arise +and become men once more.</p> +<p>And, what is more, men had to punish—to avenge. Those +are fearful words. But there is, in this God-guided universe, +a law of retribution, which will find men out, whether men choose to +find it out or not; a law of retribution; of vengeance inflicted justly, +though not necessarily by just men. The public executioner was +seldom a very estimable personage, at least under the old Régime; +and those who have been the scourges of God have been, in general, mere +scourges, and nothing better; smiting blindly, rashly, confusedly; confounding +too often the innocent with the guilty, till they have seemed only to +punish crime by crime, and replace old sins by new. But, however +insoluble, however saddening that puzzle be, I must believe—as +long as I believe in any God at all—that such men as Robespierre +were His instruments, even in their crimes.</p> +<p>In the case of the French Revolution, indeed, the wickedness of certain +of its leaders was part of the retribution itself. For the noblesse +existed surely to make men better. It did, by certain classes, +the very opposite. Therefore it was destroyed by wicked men, whom +it itself had made wicked. For over and above all political, economic, +social wrongs, there were wrongs personal, human, dramatic; which stirred +not merely the springs of covetousness or envy, or even of a just demand +for the freedom of labour and enterprise: but the very deepest springs +of rage, contempt, and hate; wrongs which caused, as I believe, the +horrors of the Revolution.</p> +<p>It is notorious how many of the men most deeply implicated in those +horrors were of the artist class—by which I signify not merely +painters and sculptors—as the word artist has now got, somewhat +strangely, to signify, at least in England—but what the French +meant by <i>artistes</i>—producers of luxuries and amusements, +play-actors, musicians, and suchlike, down to that “distracted +peruke-maker with two fiery torches,” who, at the storm of the +Bastile, “was for burning the saltpetres of the Arsenal, had not +a woman run screaming; had not a patriot, with some tincture of natural +philosophy, instantly struck the wind out of him, with butt of musket +on pit of stomach, overturned the barrels, and stayed the devouring +element.” The distracted peruke-maker may have had his wrongs—perhaps +such a one as that of poor Triboulet the fool, in “Le Roi s’amuse”—and +his own sound reasons for blowing down the Bastile, and the system which +kept it up.</p> +<p>For these very ministers of luxury—then miscalled art—from +the periwig-maker to the play-actor—who like them had seen the +frivolity, the baseness, the profligacy, of the rulers to whose vices +they pandered, whom they despised while they adored! Figaro himself +may have looked up to his master the Marquis as a superior being as +long as the law enabled the Marquis to send him to the Bastile by a +lettre de cachet; yet Figaro may have known and seen enough to excuse +him, when lettres de cachet were abolished, for handing the Marquis +over to a Comité de Salut Public. Disappointed play-actors, +like Collet d’Herbois; disappointed poets, like Fabre d’Olivet, +were, they say, especially ferocious. Why not? Ingenious, +sensitive spirits, used as lap-dogs and singing-birds by men and women +whom they felt to be their own flesh and blood, they had, it may be, +a juster appreciation of the actual worth of their patrons than had +our own Pitt and Burke. They had played the valet: and no man +was a hero to them. They had seen the nobleman expose himself +before his own helots: they would try if the helot was not as good as +the nobleman. The nobleman had played the mountebank: why should +not the mountebank, for once, play the nobleman? The nobleman’s +God had been his five senses, with (to use Mr. Carlyle’s phrase) +the sixth sense of vanity: why should not the mountebank worship the +same God, like Carriére at Nantes, and see what grace and gifts +he too might obtain at that altar?</p> +<p>But why so cruel? Because, with many of these men, I more than +suspect, there were wrongs to be avenged deeper than any wrongs done +to the sixth sense of vanity. Wrongs common to them, and to a +great portion of the respectable middle class, and much of the lower +class: but wrongs to which they and their families, being most in contact +with the noblesse, would be especially exposed; namely, wrongs to women.</p> +<p>Everyone who knows the literature of that time, must know what I +mean: what had gone on for more than a century, it may be more than +two, in France, in Italy, and—I am sorry to have to say it—Germany +likewise. All historians know what I mean, and how enormous was +the evil. I only wonder that they have so much overlooked that +item in the causes of the Revolution. It seems to me to have been +more patent and potent in the sight of men, as it surely was in the +sight of Almighty God, than all the political and economic wrongs put +together. They might have issued in a change of dynasty or of +laws. That, issued in the blood of the offenders. Not a +girl was enticed into Louis XV.’s Petit Trianon, or other den +of aristocratic iniquity, but left behind her, parents nursing shame +and sullen indignation, even while they fingered the ill-gotten price +of their daughter’s honour; and left behind also, perhaps, some +unhappy boy of her own class, in whom disappointment and jealousy were +transformed—and who will blame him?—into righteous indignation, +and a very sword of God; all the more indignant, and all the more righteous, +if education helped him to see, that the maiden’s acquiescence, +her pride in her own shame, was the ugliest feature in the whole crime, +and the most potent reason for putting an end, however fearful, to a +state of things in which such a fate was thought an honour and a gain, +and not a disgrace and a ruin; in which the most gifted daughters of +the lower classes had learnt to think it more noble to become—that +which they became—than the wives of honest men.</p> +<p>If you will read fairly the literature of the Ancien Régime, +whether in France or elsewhere, you will see that my facts are true. +If you have human hearts in you, you will see in them, it seems to me, +an explanation of many a guillotinade and fusillade, as yet explained +only on the ground of madness—an hypothesis which (as we do not +yet in the least understand what madness is) is no explanation at all.</p> +<p>An age of decay, incoherence, and makeshift, varnish and gilding +upon worm-eaten furniture, and mouldering wainscot, was that same Ancien +Régime. And for that very reason a picturesque age; like +one of its own landscapes. A picturesque bit of uncultivated mountain, +swarming with the prince’s game; a picturesque old robber schloss +above, now in ruins; and below, perhaps, the picturesque new schloss, +with its French fountains and gardens, French nymphs of marble, and +of flesh and blood likewise, which the prince has partially paid for, +by selling a few hundred young men to the English to fight the Yankees. +The river, too, is picturesque, for the old bridge has not been repaired +since it was blown up in the Seven Years’ War; and there is but +a single lazy barge floating down the stream, owing to the tolls and +tariffs of his Serene Highness; the village is picturesque, for the +flower of the young men are at the wars, and the place is tumbling down; +and the two old peasants in the foreground, with the single goat and +the hamper of vine-twigs, are very picturesque likewise, for they are +all in rags.</p> +<p>How sad to see the picturesque element eliminated, and the quiet +artistic beauty of the scene destroyed;—to have steamers puffing +up and down the river, and a railroad hurrying along its banks the wealth +of the Old World, in exchange for the wealth of the New—or hurrying, +it may be, whole regiments of free and educated citizen-soldiers, who +fight, they know for what. How sad to see the alto schloss desecrated +by tourists, and the neue schloss converted into a cold-water cure. +How sad to see the village, church and all, built up again brand-new, +and whitewashed to the very steeple-top;—a new school at the town-end—a +new crucifix by the wayside. How sad to see the old folk well +clothed in the fabrics of England or Belgium, doing an easy trade in +milk and fruit, because the land they till has become their own, and +not the prince’s; while their sons are thriving farmers on the +prairies of the far West. Very unpicturesque, no doubt, is wealth +and progress, peace and safety, cleanliness and comfort. But they +possess advantages unknown to the Ancien Régime, which was, if +nothing else, picturesque. Men could paint amusing and often pretty +pictures of its people and its places.</p> +<p>Consider that word, “picturesque.” It, and the +notion of art which it expresses, are the children of the Ancien Régime—of +the era of decay. The healthy, vigorous, earnest, progressive +Middle Age never dreamed of admiring, much less of painting, for their +own sake, rags and ruins; the fashion sprang up at the end of the seventeenth +century; it lingered on during the first quarter of our century, kept +alive by the reaction from 1815-25. It is all but dead now, before +the return of vigorous and progressive thought. An admirer of +the Middle Ages now does not build a sham ruin in his grounds; he restores +a church, blazing with colour, like a medieval illumination. He +has learnt to look on that which went by the name of picturesque in +his great-grandfather’s time, as an old Greek or a Middle Age +monk would have done—as something squalid, ugly, a sign of neglect, +disease, death; and therefore to be hated and abolished, if it cannot +be restored. At Carcassone, now, M. Viollet-le-Duc, under the +auspices of the Emperor of the French, is spending his vast learning, +and much money, simply in abolishing the picturesque; in restoring stone +for stone, each member of that wonderful museum of Middle Age architecture: +Roman, Visigothic, Moslem, Romaine, Early English, later French, all +is being reproduced exactly as it must have existed centuries since. +No doubt that is not the highest function of art: but it is a preparation +for the highest, a step toward some future creative school. As +the early Italian artists, by careful imitation, absorbed into their +minds the beauty and meaning of old Greek and Roman art; so must the +artists of our days by the art of the Middle Age and the Renaissance. +They must learn to copy, before they can learn to surpass; and, meanwhile, +they must learn—indeed they have learnt—that decay is ugliness, +and the imitation of decay, a making money out of the public shame.</p> +<p>The picturesque sprang up, as far as I can discover, suddenly, during +the time of exhaustion and recklessness which followed the great struggles +of the sixteenth century. Salvator Rosa and Callot, two of the +earliest professors of picturesque art, have never been since surpassed. +For indeed, they drew from life. The rags and the ruins, material, +and alas! spiritual, were all around them; the lands and the creeds +alike lay waste. There was ruffianism and misery among the masses +of Europe; unbelief and artificiality among the upper classes; churches +and monasteries defiled, cities sacked, farmsteads plundered and ruinate, +and all the wretchedness which Callot has immortalised—for a warning +to evil rulers—in his Misères de la Guerre. The world +was all gone wrong: but as for setting it right again—who could +do that? And so men fell into a sentimental regret for the past, +and its beauties, all exaggerated by the foreshortening of time; while +they wanted strength or faith to reproduce it. At last they became +so accustomed to the rags and ruins, that they looked on them as the +normal condition of humanity, as the normal field for painters.</p> +<p>Only now and then, and especially toward the latter half of the eighteenth +century, when thought began to revive, and men dreamed of putting the +world to rights once more, there rose before them glimpses of an Arcadian +ideal. Country life—the primæval calling of men—how +graceful and pure it might be! How graceful—if not pure—it +once had been! The boors of Teniers and the beggars of Murillo +might be true to present fact; but there was a fairer ideal, which once +had been fact, in the Eclogues of Theocritus, and the Loves of Daphnis +and Chloe. And so men took to dreaming of shepherds and shepherdesses, +and painting them on canvas, and modelling them in china, according +to their cockney notions of what they had been once, and always ought +to be. We smile now at Sèvres and Dresden shepherdesses; +but the wise man will surely see in them a certain pathos. They +indicated a craving after something better than boorishness; and the +many men and women may have become the gentler and purer by looking +even at them, and have said sadly to themselves: “Such might have +been the peasantry of half Europe, had it not been for devastations +of the Palatinate, wars of succession, and the wicked wills of emperors +and kings.”</p> +<h2>LECTURE III—THE EXPLOSIVE FORCES</h2> +<p>In a former lecture in this Institution, I said that the human race +owed more to the eighteenth century than to any century since the Christian +era. It may seem a bold assertion to those who value duly the +century which followed the revival of Greek literature, and consider +that the eighteenth century was but the child, or rather grandchild, +thereof. But I must persist in my opinion, even though it seem +to be inconsistent with my description of the very same era as one of +decay and death. For side by side with the death, there was manifold +fresh birth; side by side with the decay there was active growth;—side +by side with them, fostered by them, though generally in strong opposition +to them, whether conscious or unconscious. We must beware, however, +of trying to find between that decay and that growth a bond of cause +and effect where there is really none. The general decay may have +determined the course of many men’s thoughts; but it no more set +them thinking than (as I have heard said) the decay of the Ancien Régime +produced the new Régime—a loose metaphor, which, like all +metaphors, will not hold water, and must not be taken for a philosophic +truth. That would be to confess man—what I shall never confess +him to be—the creature of circumstances; it would be to fall into +the same fallacy of spontaneous generation as did the ancients, when +they believed that bees were bred from the carcass of a dead ox. +In the first place, the bees were no bees, but flies—unless when +some true swarm of honey bees may have taken up their abode within the +empty ribs, as Samson’s bees did in that of the lion. But +bees or flies, each sprang from an egg, independent of the carcass, +having a vitality of its own: it was fostered by the carcass it fed +on during development; but bred from it it was not, any more than Marat +was bred from the decay of the Ancien Régime. There are +flies which, by feeding on putridity, become poisonous themselves, as +did Marat: but even they owe their vitality and organisation to something +higher than that on which they feed; and each of them, however, defaced +and debased, was at first a “thought of God.” All +true manhood consists in the defiance of circumstances; and if any man +be the creature of circumstances, it is because he has become so, like +the drunkard; because he has ceased to be a man, and sunk downward toward +the brute.</p> +<p>Accordingly we shall find, throughout the 18th century, a stirring +of thought, an originality, a resistance to circumstances, an indignant +defiance of circumstances, which would have been impossible, had circumstances +been the true lords and shapers of mankind. Had that latter been +the case, the downward progress of the Ancien Régime would have +been irremediable. Each generation, conformed more and more to +the element in which it lived, would have sunk deeper in dull acquiescence +to evil, in ignorance of all cravings save those of the senses; and +if at any time intolerable wrong or want had driven it to revolt, it +would have issued, not in the proclamation of new and vast ideas, but +in an anarchic struggle for revenge and bread.</p> +<p>There are races, alas! which seem, for the present at least, mastered +by circumstances. Some, like the Chinese, have sunk back into +that state; some, like the negro in Africa, seem not yet to have emerged +from it; but in Europe, during the eighteenth century, were working +not merely new forces and vitalities (abstractions which mislead rather +than explain), but living persons in plenty, men and women, with independent +and original hearts and brains, instinct, in spite of all circumstances, +with power which we shall most wisely ascribe directly to Him who is +the Lord and Giver of Life.</p> +<p>Such persons seemed—I only say seemed—most numerous in +England and in Germany. But there were enough of them in France +to change the destiny of that great nation for awhile—perhaps +for ever.</p> +<p>M. de Tocqueville has a whole chapter, and a very remarkable one, +which appears at first sight to militate against my belief—a chapter +“showing that France was the country in which men had become most +alike.”</p> +<p>“The men,” he says, “of that time, especially those +belonging to the upper and middle ranks of society, who alone were at +all conspicuous, were all exactly alike.”</p> +<p>And it must be allowed, that if this were true of the upper and middle +classes, it must have been still more true of the mass of the lowest +population, who, being most animal, are always most moulded—or +rather crushed—by their own circumstances, by public opinion, +and by the wants of five senses, common to all alike.</p> +<p>But when M. de Tocqueville attributes this curious fact to the circumstances +of their political state—to that “government of one man +which in the end has the inevitable effect of rendering all men alike, +and all mutually indifferent to their common fate”—we must +differ, even from him: for facts prove the impotence of that, or of +any other circumstance, in altering the hearts and souls of men, in +producing in them anything but a mere superficial and temporary resemblance.</p> +<p>For all the while there was, among these very French, here and there +a variety of character and purpose, sufficient to burst through that +very despotism, and to develop the nation into manifold, new, and quite +original shapes. Thus it was proved that the uniformity had been +only in their outside crust and shell. What tore the nation to +pieces during the Reign of Terror, but the boundless variety and originality +of the characters which found themselves suddenly in free rivalry? +What else gave to the undisciplined levies, the bankrupt governments, +the parvenu heroes of the Republic, a manifold force, a self-dependent +audacity, which made them the conquerors, and the teachers (for good +and evil) of the civilised world? If there was one doctrine which +the French Revolution specially proclaimed—which it caricatured +till it brought it into temporary disrepute—it was this: that +no man is like another; that in each is a God-given “individuality,” +an independent soul, which no government or man has a right to crush, +or can crush in the long run: but which ought to have, and must have, +a “carrière ouverte aux talents,” freely to do the +best for itself in the battle of life. The French Revolution, +more than any event since twelve poor men set forth to convert the world +some eighteen hundred years ago, proves that man ought not to be, and +need not be, the creature of circumstances, the puppet of institutions; +but, if he will, their conqueror and their lord.</p> +<p>Of these original spirits who helped to bring life out of death, +and the modern world out of the decay of the mediæval world, the +French <i>philosophes</i> and encyclopædists are, of course, the +most notorious. They confessed, for the most part, that their +original inspiration had come from England. They were, or considered +themselves, the disciples of Locke; whose philosophy, it seems to me, +their own acts disproved.</p> +<p>And first, a few words on these same <i>philosophes</i>. One +may be thoroughly aware of their deficiencies, of their sins, moral +as well as intellectual; and yet one may demand that everyone should +judge them fairly—which can only be done by putting himself in +their place; and any fair judgment of them will, I think, lead to the +conclusion that they were not mere destroyers, inflamed with hate of +everything which mankind had as yet held sacred. Whatever sacred +things they despised, one sacred thing they reverenced, which men had +forgotten more and more since the seventeenth century—common justice +and common humanity. It was this, I believe, which gave them their +moral force. It was this which drew towards them the hearts, not +merely of educated bourgeois and nobles (on the <i>menu peuple</i> they +had no influence, and did not care to have any), but of every continental +sovereign who felt in himself higher aspirations than those of a mere +selfish tyrant—Frederick the Great, Christina of Sweden, Joseph +of Austria, and even that fallen Juno, Catharine of Russia, with all +her sins. To take the most extreme instance—Voltaire. +We may question his being a philosopher at all. We may deny that +he had even a tincture of formal philosophy. We may doubt much +whether he had any of that human and humorous common sense, which is +often a good substitute for the philosophy of the schools. We +may feel against him a just and honest indignation when we remember +that he dared to travestie into a foul satire the tale of his country’s +purest and noblest heroine; but we must recollect, at the same time, +that he did a public service to the morality of his own country, and +of all Europe, by his indignation—quite as just and honest as +any which we may feel—at the legal murder of Calas. We must +recollect that, if he exposes baseness and foulness with too cynical +a license of speech (in which, indeed, he sinned no more than had the +average of French writers since the days of Montaigne), he at least +never advocates them, as did Le Sage. We must recollect that, +scattered throughout his writings, are words in favour of that which +is just, merciful, magnanimous, and even, at times, in favour of that +which is pure; which proves that in Voltaire, as in most men, there +was a double self—the one sickened to cynicism by the iniquity +and folly which he saw around him—the other, hungering after a +nobler life, and possibly exciting that hunger in one and another, here +and there, who admired him for other reasons than the educated mob, +which cried after him “Vive la Pucelle.”</p> +<p>Rousseau, too. Easy it is to feel disgust, contempt, for the +“Confessions” and the “Nouvelle Heloise”—for +much, too much, in the man’s own life and character. One +would think the worse of the young Englishman who did not so feel, and +express his feelings roundly and roughly. But all young Englishmen +should recollect, that to Rousseau’s “Emile” they +owe their deliverance from the useless pedantries, the degrading brutalities, +of the medieval system of school education; that “Emile” +awakened throughout civilised Europe a conception of education just, +humane, rational, truly scientific, because founded upon facts; that +if it had not been written by one writhing under the bitter consequences +of mis-education, and feeling their sting and their brand day by day +on his own spirit, Miss Edgeworth might never have reformed our nurseries, +or Dr. Arnold our public schools.</p> +<p>And so with the rest of the <i>philosophes</i>. That there +were charlatans among them, vain men, pretentious men, profligate men, +selfish, self-seeking, and hypocritical men, who doubts? Among +what class of men were there not such in those evil days? In what +class of men are there not such now, in spite of all social and moral +improvement? But nothing but the conviction, among the average, +that they were in the right—that they were fighting a battle for +which it was worth while to dare, and if need be to suffer, could have +enabled them to defy what was then public opinion, backed by overwhelming +physical force.</p> +<p>Their intellectual defects are patent. No one can deny that +their inductions were hasty and partial: but then they were inductions +as opposed to the dull pedantry of the schools, which rested on tradition +only half believed, or pretended to be believed. No one can deny +that their theories were too general and abstract; but then they were +theories as opposed to the no-theory of the Ancien Régime, which +was, “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.”</p> +<p>Theories—principles—by them if men do not live, by them +men are, at least, stirred into life, at the sight of something more +noble than themselves. Only by great ideas, right or wrong, could +such a world as that which Le Sage painted, be roused out of its slough +of foul self-satisfaction, and equally foul self-discontent.</p> +<p>For mankind is ruled and guided, in the long run, not by practical +considerations, not by self-interest, not by compromises; but by theories +and principles, and those of the most abstruse, delicate, supernatural, +and literally unspeakable kind; which, whether they be according to +reason or not, are so little according to logic—that is, to speakable +reason—that they cannot be put into speech. Men act, whether +singly or in masses, by impulses and instincts for which they give reasons +quite incompetent, often quite irrelevant; but which they have caught +from each other, as they catch fever or small-pox; as unconsciously, +and yet as practically and potently; just as the nineteenth century +has caught from the philosophers of the eighteenth most practical rules +of conduct, without even (in most cases) having read a word of their +works.</p> +<p>And what has this century caught from these philosophers? One +rule it has learnt, and that a most practical one—to appeal in +all cases, as much as possible, to “Reason and the Laws of Nature.” +That, at least, the philosophers tried to do. Often they failed. +Their conceptions of reason and of the laws of nature being often incorrect, +they appealed to unreason and to laws which were not those of nature. +“The fixed idea of them all was,” says M. de Tocqueville, +“to substitute simple and elementary rules, deduced from reason +and natural law, for the complicated traditional customs which governed +the society of their time.” They were often rash, hasty, +in the application of their method. They ignored whole classes +of facts, which, though spiritual and not physical, are just as much +facts, and facts for science, as those which concern a stone or a fungus. +They mistook for merely complicated traditional customs, many most sacred +institutions which were just as much founded on reason and natural law, +as any theories of their own. But who shall say that their method +was not correct? That it was not the only method? They appealed +to reason. Would you have had them appeal to unreason? They +appealed to natural law. Would you have had them appeal to unnatural +law?—law according to which God did not make this world? +Alas! that had been done too often already. Solomon saw it done +in his time, and called it folly, to which he prophesied no good end. +Rabelais saw it done in his time; and wrote his chapters on the “Children +of Physis and the Children of Antiphysis.” But, born in +an evil generation, which was already, even in 1500, ripening for the +revolution of 1789, he was sensual and, I fear, cowardly enough to hide +his light, not under a bushel, but under a dunghill; till men took him +for a jester of jests; and his great wisdom was lost to the worse and +more foolish generations which followed him, and thought they understood +him.</p> +<p>But as for appealing to natural law for that which is good for men, +and to reason for the power of discerning that same good—if man +cannot find truth by that method, by what method shall he find it?</p> +<p>And thus it happened that, though these philosophers and encyclopædists +were not men of science, they were at least the heralds and the coadjutors +of science.</p> +<p>We may call them, and justly, dreamers, theorists, fanatics. +But we must recollect that one thing they meant to do, and did. +They recalled men to facts; they bid them ask of everything they saw—What +are the facts of the case? Till we know the facts, argument is +worse than useless.</p> +<p>Now the habit of asking for the facts of the case must deliver men +more or less from that evil spirit which the old Romans called “Fama;” +from her whom Virgil described in the Æneid as the ugliest, the +falsest, and the cruellest of monsters.</p> +<p>From “Fama;” from rumours, hearsays, exaggerations, scandals, +superstitions, public opinions—whether from the ancient public +opinion that the sun went round the earth, or the equally public opinion, +that those who dared to differ from public opinion were hateful to the +deity, and therefore worthy of death—from all these blasts of +Fame’s lying trumpet they helped to deliver men; and they therefore +helped to insure something like peace and personal security for those +quiet, modest, and generally virtuous men, who, as students of physical +science, devoted their lives, during the eighteenth century, to asking +of nature—What are the facts of the case?</p> +<p>It was no coincidence, but a connection of cause and effect, that +during the century of <i>philosopher</i> sound physical science throve, +as she had never thriven before; that in zoology and botany, chemistry +and medicine, geology and astronomy, man after man, both of the middle +and the noble classes, laid down on more and more sound, because more +and more extended foundations, that physical science which will endure +as an everlasting heritage to mankind; endure, even though a second +Byzantine period should reduce it to a timid and traditional pedantry, +or a second irruption of barbarians sweep it away for awhile, to revive +again (as classic philosophy revived in the fifteenth century) among +new and more energetic races; when the kingdom of God shall have been +taken away from us, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits +thereof.</p> +<p>An eternal heritage, I say, for the human race; which once gained, +can never be lost; which stands, and will stand; marches, and will march, +proving its growth, its health, its progressive force, its certainty +of final victory, by those very changes, disputes, mistakes, which the +ignorant and the bigoted hold up to scorn, as proofs of its uncertainty +and its rottenness; because they never have dared or cared to ask boldly—What +are the facts of the case?—and have never discovered either the +acuteness, the patience, the calm justice, necessary for ascertaining +the facts, or their awful and divine certainty when once ascertained.</p> +<p>[But these philosophers (it will be said) hated all religion.</p> +<p>Before that question can be fairly discussed, it is surely right +to consider what form of religion that was which they found working +round them in France, and on the greater part of the Continent. +The quality thereof may have surely had something to do (as they themselves +asserted) with that “sort of rage” with which (to use M. +de Tocqueville’s words) “the Christian religion was attacked +in France.”</p> +<p>M. de Tocqueville is of opinion (and his opinion is likely to be +just) that “the Church was not more open to attack in France than +elsewhere; that the corruptions and abuses which had been allowed to +creep into it were less, on the contrary, there than in most Catholic +countries. The Church of France was infinitely more tolerant than +it ever had been previously, and than it still was among other nations. +Consequently, the peculiar causes of this phenomenon” (the hatred +which it aroused) “must be looked for less in the condition of +religion than in that of society.”</p> +<p>“We no longer,” he says, shortly after, “ask in +what the Church of that day erred as a religious institution, but how +far it stood opposed to the political revolution which was at hand.” +And he goes on to show how the principles of her ecclesiastical government, +and her political position, were such that the <i>philosophes</i> must +needs have been her enemies. But he mentions another fact which +seems to me to belong neither to the category of religion nor to that +of politics; a fact which, if he had done us the honour to enlarge upon +it, might have led him and his readers to a more true understanding +of the disrepute into which Christianity had fallen in France.</p> +<p>“The ecclesiastical authority had been specially employed in +keeping watch over the progress of thought; and the censorship of books +was a daily annoyance to the <i>philosophes</i>. By defending +the common liberties of the human mind against the Church, they were +combating in their own cause: and they began by breaking the shackles +which pressed most closely on themselves.”</p> +<p>Just so. And they are not to be blamed if they pressed first +and most earnestly reforms which they knew by painful experience to +be necessary. All reformers are wont thus to begin at home. +It is to their honour if, not content with shaking off their own fetters, +they begin to see that others are fettered likewise; and, reasoning +from the particular to the universal, to learn that their own cause +is the cause of mankind.</p> +<p>There is, therefore, no reason to doubt that these men were honest, +when they said that they were combating, not in their own cause merely, +but in that of humanity; and that the Church was combating in her own +cause, and that of her power and privilege. The Church replied +that she, too, was combating for humanity; for its moral and eternal +well-being. But that is just what the <i>philosophes</i> denied. +They said (and it is but fair to take a statement which appears on the +face of all their writings; which is the one key-note on which they +ring perpetual changes), that the cause of the Church in France was +not that of humanity, but of inhumanity; not that of nature, but of +unnature; not even that of grace, but of disgrace. Truely or falsely, +they complained that the French clergy had not only identified themselves +with the repression of free thought, and of physical science, especially +that of the Newtonian astronomy, but that they had proved themselves +utterly unfit, for centuries past, to exercise any censorship whatsoever +over the thoughts of men: that they had identified themselves with the +cause of darkness, not of light; with persecution and torture, with +the dragonnades of Louis XIV., with the murder of Calas and of Urban +Grandier; with celibacy, hysteria, demonology, witchcraft, and the shameful +public scandals, like those of Gauffredi, Grandier, and Père +Giraud, which had arisen out of mental disease; with forms of worship +which seemed to them (rightly or wrongly) idolatry, and miracles which +seemed to them (rightly or wrongly) impostures; that the clergy interfered +perpetually with the sanctity of family life, as well as with the welfare +of the state; that their evil counsels, and specially those of the Jesuits, +had been patent and potent causes of much of the misrule and misery +of Louis XIV.’s and XV.’s reigns; and that with all these +heavy counts against them, their morality was not such as to make other +men more moral; and was not—at least among the hierarchy—improving, +or likely to improve. To a Mazarin, a De Retz, a Richelieu (questionable +men enough) had succeeded a Dubois, a Rohan, a Lomenie de Brienne, a +Maury, a Talleyrand; and at the revolution of 1789 thoughtful Frenchmen +asked, once and for all, what was to be done with a Church of which +these were the hierophants?</p> +<p>Whether these complaints affected the French Church as a “religious” +institution, must depend entirely on the meaning which is attached to +the word “religion”: that they affected her on scientific, +rational, and moral grounds, independent of any merely political one, +is as patent as that the attack based on them was one-sided, virulent, +and often somewhat hypocritical, considering the private morals of many +of the assailants. We know—or ought to know—that within +that religion which seemed to the <i>philosophes</i> (so distorted and +defaced had it become) a nightmare dream, crushing the life out of mankind, +there lie elements divine, eternal; necessary for man in this life and +the life to come. But we are bound to ask—Had they a fair +chance of knowing what we know? Have we proof that their hatred +was against all religion, or only against that which they saw around +them? Have we proof that they would have equally hated, had they +been in permanent contact with them, creeds more free from certain faults +which seemed to them, in the case of the French Church, ineradicable +and inexpiable? Till then we must have charity—which is +justice—even for the <i>philosophes</i> of the eighteenth century.</p> +<p>This view of the case had been surely overlooked by M. de Tocqueville, +when he tried to explain by the fear of revolutions, the fact that both +in America and in England, “while the boldest political doctrines +of the eighteenth-century philosophers have been adopted, their anti-religious +doctrines have made no way.”</p> +<p>He confesses that, “Among the English, French irreligious philosophy +had been preached, even before the greater part of the French philosophers +were born. It was Bolingbroke who set up Voltaire. Throughout +the eighteenth century infidelity had celebrated champions in England. +Able writers and profound thinkers espoused that cause, but they were +never able to render it triumphant as in France.” Of these +facts there can be no doubt: but the cause which he gives for the failure +of infidelity will surely sound new and strange to those who know the +English literature and history of that century. It was, he says, +“inasmuch as all those who had anything to fear from revolutions, +eagerly came to the rescue of the established faith.” Surely +there was no talk of revolutions; no wish, expressed or concealed, to +overthrow either government or society, in the aristocratic clique to +whom English infidelity was confined. Such was, at least, the +opinion of Voltaire, who boasted that “All the works of the modern +philosophers together would never make as much noise in the world as +was made in former days by the disputes of the Cordeliers about the +shape of their sleeves and hoods.” If (as M. de Tocqueville +says) Bolingbroke set up Voltaire, neither master nor pupil had any +more leaning than Hobbes had toward a democracy which was not dreaded +in those days because it had never been heard of. And if (as M. +de Tocqueville heartily allows) the English apologists of Christianity +triumphed, at least for the time being, the cause of their triumph must +be sought in the plain fact that such men as Berkeley, Butler, and Paley, +each according to his light, fought the battle fairly, on the common +ground of reason and philosophy, instead of on that of tradition and +authority; and that the forms of Christianity current in England—whether +Quaker, Puritan, or Anglican—offended, less than that current +in France, the common-sense and the human instincts of the many, or +of the sceptics themselves.]</p> +<p>But the eighteenth century saw another movement, all the more powerful, +perhaps, because it was continually changing its shape, even its purpose; +and gaining fresh life and fresh adherents with every change. +Propagated at first by men of the school of Locke, it became at last +a protest against the materialism of that school, on behalf of all that +is, or calls itself, supernatural and mysterious. Abjuring, and +honestly, all politics, it found itself sucked into the political whirlpool +in spite of itself, as all human interests which have any life in them +must be at last. It became an active promoter of the Revolution; +then it helped to destroy the Revolution, when that had, under Napoleon, +become a levelling despotism; then it helped, as actively, to keep revolutionary +principles alive, after the reaction of 1815:—a Protean institution, +whose power we in England are as apt to undervalue as the governments +of the Continent were apt, during the eighteenth century, to exaggerate +it. I mean, of course, Freemasonry, and the secret societies which, +honestly and honourably disowned by Freemasonry, yet have either copied +it, or actually sprung out of it. In England, Freemasonry never +was, it seems, more than a liberal and respectable benefit-club; for +secret societies are needless for any further purposes, amid free institutions +and a free press. But on the Continent during the eighteenth century, +Freemasonry excited profound suspicion and fear on the part of statesmen +who knew perfectly well their friends from their foes; and whose precautions +were, from their point of view, justified by the results.</p> +<p>I shall not enter into the deep question of the origin of Freemasonry. +One uninitiate, as I am, has no right to give an opinion on the great +questions of the mediæval lodge of Kilwinning and its Scotch degrees; +on the seven Templars, who, after poor Jacques Molay was burnt at Paris, +took refuge on the Isle of Mull, in Scotland, found there another Templar +and brother Mason, ominously named Harris; took to the trowel in earnest, +and revived the Order;—on the Masons who built Magdeburg Cathedral +in 876; on the English Masons assembled in Pagan times by “St. +Albone, that worthy knight;” on the revival of English Masonry +by Edwin, son of Athelstan; on Magnus Grecus, who had been at the building +of Solomon’s Temple, and taught Masonry to Charles Martel; on +the pillars Jachin and Boaz; on the masonry of Hiram of Tyre, and indeed +of Adam himself, of whose first fig-leaf the masonic apron may be a +type—on all these matters I dare no more decide than on the making +of the Trojan Horse, the birth of Romulus and Remus, or the incarnation +of Vishnoo.</p> +<p>All I dare say is, that Freemasonry emerges in its present form into +history and fact, seemingly about the beginning of George I.’s +reign, among Englishmen and noblemen, notably in four lodges in the +city of London: (1) at The Goose and Gridiron alehouse in St. Paul’s +Churchyard; (2) at The Crown alehouse near Drury Lane; (3) at The Apple +Tree tavern near Covent Garden; (4) at The Rummer and Grapes tavern, +in Charnel Row, Westminster. That its principles were brotherly +love and good fellowship, which included in those days port, sherry, +claret, and punch; that it was founded on the ground of mere humanity, +in every sense of the word; being (as was to be expected from the temper +of the times) both aristocratic and liberal, admitting to its ranks +virtuous gentlemen “obliged,” says an old charge, “only +to that religion wherein all men agree, leaving their particular opinions +to themselves: that is, to be good men and true, or men of honour and +honesty, by whatever denominations or persuasions they may be distinguished; +whereby Masonry becomes the centre of union and means of conciliating +true friendship among persons that otherwise must have remained at a +distance.”</p> +<p>Little did the honest gentlemen who established or re-established +their society on these grounds, and fenced it with quaint ceremonies, +old or new, conceive the importance of their own act; we, looking at +it from a distance, may see all that such a society involved, which +was quite new to the world just then; and see, that it was the very +child of the Ancien Régime—of a time when men were growing +weary of the violent factions, political and spiritual, which had torn +Europe in pieces for more than a century, and longed to say: “After +all, we are all alike in one thing—for we are at least men.”</p> +<p>Its spread through England and Scotland, and the seceding bodies +which arose from it, as well as the supposed Jacobite tendency of certain +Scotch lodges, do not concern us here. The point interesting to +us just now is, that Freemasonry was imported to the Continent exclusively +by English and Scotch gentlemen and noblemen. Lord Derwentwater +is said by some to have founded the “Loge Anglaise” in Paris +in 1725; the Duke of Richmond one in his own castle of Aubigny shortly +after. It was through Hanoverian influence that the movement seems +to have spread into Germany. In 1733, for instance, the English +Grand Master, Lord Strathmore, permitted eleven German gentlemen and +good brethren to form a lodge in Hamburg. Into this English Society +was Frederick the Great, when Crown Prince, initiated, in spite of strict +old Frederick William’s objections, who had heard of it as an +English invention of irreligious tendency. Francis I. of Austria +was made a Freemason at the Hague, Lord Chesterfield being in the chair, +and then became a Master in London under the name of “Brother +Lothringen,” to the discontent of Maria Theresa, whose woman’s +wit saw farther than her husband. Englishmen and Scotchmen introduced +the new society into Russia and into Geneva. Sweden and Poland +seem to have received it from France; while, in the South, it seems +to have been exclusively an English plant. Sackville, Duke of +Middlesex, is said to have founded the first lodge at Florence in 1733, +Lord Coleraine at Gibraltar and Madrid, one Gordon in Portugal; and +everywhere, at the commencement of the movement, we find either London +or Scotland the mother-lodges, introducing on the Continent those liberal +and humane ideas of which England was then considered, to her glory, +as the only home left on earth.</p> +<p>But, alas! the seed sown grew up into strange shapes, according to +the soil in which it rooted. False doctrine, heresy, and schism, +according to Herr Findel, the learned and rational historian whom I +have chiefly followed, defiled the new Church from its infancy. +“In France,” so he bemoans himself, “first of all +there shot up that baneful seed of lies and frauds, of vanity and presumption, +of hatred and discord, the mischievous high degrees; the misstatement +that our order was allied to the Templars, and existed at the time of +the Crusades; the removal of old charges, the bringing in surreptitiously +of a multitude of symbols and forms which awoke the love of secrecy; +knighthood; and, in fact, all which tended to poison Freemasonry.” +Herr Findel seems to attribute these evils principally to the “high +degrees.” It would have been more simple to have attributed +them to the morals of the French noblesse in the days of Louis Quinze. +What could a corrupt tree bring forth, but corrupt fruit? If some +of the early lodges, like those of “La Félicité” +and “L’Ancre,” to which women were admitted, resembled +not a little the Bacchic mysteries of old Rome, and like them called +for the interference of the police, still no great reform was to be +expected, when those Sovereign Masonic Princes, the “Emperors +of the East and West,” quarrelled—knights of the East against +knights of the West—till they were absorbed or crushed by the +Lodge “Grand Orient,” with Philippe Egalité, Duc +de Chartres, as their grand master, and as his representative, the hero +of the diamond necklace, and disciple of Count Cagliostro—Louis, +Prince de Rohan.</p> +<p>But if Freemasonry, among the frivolous and sensual French noblesse, +became utterly frivolous and sensual itself, it took a deeper, though +a questionably fantastic form, among the more serious and earnest German +nobility. Forgetful as they too often were of their duty to their +peoples—tyrannical, extravagant, debauched by French opinions, +French fashions, French luxuries, till they had begun to despise their +native speech, their native literature, almost their native land, and +to hide their native homeliness under a clumsy varnish of French outside +civilisation, which the years 1807-13 rubbed off them again with a brush +of iron—they were yet Germans at heart; and that German instinct +for the unseen—call it enthusiasm, mysticism, what you will, you +cannot make it anything but a human fact, and a most powerful, and (as +I hold) most blessed fact—that instinct for the unseen, I say, +which gives peculiar value to German philosophy, poetry, art, religion, +and above all to German family life, and which is just the complement +needed to prevent our English common-sense, matter-of-fact Lockism from +degenerating into materialism—that was only lying hidden, but +not dead, in the German spirit.</p> +<p>With the Germans, therefore, Freemasonry assumed a nobler and more +earnest shape. Dropping, very soon, that Lockite and <i>Philosophe</i> +tone which had perhaps recommended it to Frederick the Great in his +youth, it became mediævalist and mystic. It craved after +a resuscitation of old chivalrous spirit, and the virtues of the knightly +ideal, and the old German <i>biederkeit und tapferkeit</i>, which were +all defiled and overlaid by French fopperies. And not in vain; +as no struggle after a noble aim, however confused or fantastic, is +ever in vain. Freemasonry was the direct parent of the Tugenbund, +and of those secret societies which freed Germany from Napoleon. +Whatever follies young members of them may have committed; whatever +Jahn and his Turnerei; whatever the iron youths, with their iron decorations +and iron boot-heels; whatever, in a word, may have been said or done +amiss, in that childishness which (as their own wisest writers often +lament) so often defaces the noble childlikeness of the German spirit, +let it be always remembered that under the impulse first given by Freemasonry, +as much as that given by such heroes as Stein and Scharnhorst, Germany +shook off the chains which had fallen on her in her sleep; and stood +once more at Leipsic, were it but for a moment, a free people alike +in body and in soul.</p> +<p>Remembering this, and the solid benefits which Germany owed to Masonic +influences, one shrinks from saying much of the extravagances in which +its Masonry indulged before the French Revolution. Yet they are +so characteristic of the age, so significant to the student of human +nature, that they must be hinted at, though not detailed.</p> +<p>It is clear that Masonry was at first a movement confined to the +aristocracy, or at least to the most educated classes; and clear, too, +that it fell in with a temper of mind unsatisfied with the dry dogmatism +into which the popular creeds had then been frozen—unsatisfied +with their own Frenchified foppery and pseudo-philosophy—unsatisfied +with want of all duty, purpose, noble thought, or noble work. +With such a temper of mind it fell in: but that very temper was open +(as it always is) to those dreams of a royal road to wisdom and to virtue, +which have haunted, in all ages, the luxurious and the idle.</p> +<p>Those who will, may read enough, and too much, of the wonderful secrets +in nature and science and theosophy, which men expected to find and +did not find in the higher degrees of Masonry, till old Voss—the +translator of Homer—had to confess, that after “trying for +eleven years to attain a perfect knowledge of the inmost penetralia, +where the secret is said to be, and of its invisible guardians,” +all he knew was that “the documents which he had to make known +to the initiated were nothing more than a well got-up farce.”</p> +<p>But the mania was general. The high-born and the virtuous expected +to discover some panacea for their own consciences in what Voss calls, +“A multitude of symbols, which are ever increasing the farther +you penetrate, and are made to have a moral application through some +arbitrary twisting of their meaning, as if I were to attempt expounding +the chaos on my writing-desk.”</p> +<p>A rich harvest-field was an aristocracy in such a humour, for quacks +of every kind; richer even than that of France, in that the Germans +were at once more honest and more earnest, and therefore to be robbed +more easily. The carcass was there: and the birds of prey were +gathered together.</p> +<p>Of Rosa, with his lodge of the Three Hammers, and his Potsdam gold-making;—of +Johnson, alias Leuchte, who passed himself off as a Grand Prior sent +from Scotland to resuscitate the order of Knights Templars; who informed +his disciples that the Grand Master Von Hund commanded 26,000 men; that +round the convent (what convent, does not appear) a high wall was erected, +which was guarded day and night; that the English navy was in the hands +of the Order; that they had MSS. written by Hugo de Paganis (a mythic +hero who often figures in these fables); that their treasure was in +only three places in the world, in Ballenstadt, in the icy mountains +of Savoy, and in China; that whosoever drew on himself the displeasure +of the Order, perished both body and soul; who degraded his rival Rosa +to the sound of military music, and after having had, like every dog, +his day, died in prison in the Wartburg;—of the Rosicrucians, +who were accused of wanting to support and advance the Catholic religion—one +would think the accusation was very unnecessary, seeing that their actual +dealings were with the philosopher’s stone, and the exorcism of +spirits: and that the first apostle of the new golden Rosicrucian order, +one Schröpfer, getting into debt, and fearing exposure, finished +his life in an altogether un-catholic manner at Leipsic in 1774, by +shooting himself;—of Keller and his Urim and Thummim;—of +Wöllner (who caught the Crown Prince Frederick William) with his +three names of Chrysophiron, Heliconus, and Ophiron, and his fourth +name of Ormesus Magnus, under which all the brethren were to offer up +for him solemn prayers and intercessions;—of Baron Heinrich von +Ekker and Eckenhofen, gentleman of the bed-chamber and counsellor of +the Duke of Coburg Saalfeld, and his Jewish colleague Hirschmann, with +their Asiatic brethren and order named Ben Bicca, Cabalistic and Talmudic; +of the Illuminati, and poor Adam Weisshaupt, Professor of Canon and +National Law at Ingoldstadt in Bavaria, who set up what he considered +an Anti-Jesuitical order on a Jesuit model, with some vague hope, according +to his own showing, of “perfecting the reasoning powers interesting +to mankind, spreading the knowledge of sentiments both humane and social, +checking wicked inclinations, standing up for oppressed and suffering +virtue against all wrong, promoting the advancement of men of merit, +and in every way facilitating the acquirement of knowledge and science;”—of +this honest silly man, and his attempts to carry out all his fine projects +by calling himself Spartacus, Bavaria Achaia, Austria Egypt, Vienna +Rome, and so forth;—of Knigge, who picked his honest brains, quarrelled +with him, and then made money and fame out of his plans, for as long +as they lasted;—of Bode, the knight of the lilies of the valley, +who, having caught Duke Ernest of Saxe Gotha, was himself caught by +Knigge, and his eight, nine, or more ascending orders of unwisdom;—and +finally of the Jesuits who, really with considerable excuses for their +severity, fell upon these poor foolish Illuminati in 1784 throughout +Bavaria, and had them exiled or imprisoned;—of all this you may +read in the pages of Dr. Findel, and in many another book. For, +forgotten as they are now, they made noise enough in their time.</p> +<p>And so it befell, that this eighteenth century, which is usually +held to be the most “materialistic” of epochs, was, in fact, +a most “spiritualistic” one; in which ghosts, demons, quacks, +philosophers’ stones, enchanters’ wands, mysteries and mummeries, +were as fashionable—as they will probably be again some day.</p> +<p>You have all heard of Cagliostro—“pupil of the sage Althotas, +foster-child of the Scheriff of Mecca, probable son of the last king +of Trebizond; named also Acharat, and ‘Unfortunate child of Nature;’ +by profession healer of diseases, abolisher of wrinkles, friend of the +poor and impotent; grand-master of the Egyptian Mason-lodge of High +Science, spirit-summoner, gold-cook, Grand-Cophta, prophet, priest, +Thaumaturgic moralist, and swindler”—born Giuseppe Balsamo +of Palermo;—of him, and of his lovely Countess Seraphina—née +Lorenza Feliciani? You have read what Goethe—and still more +important, what Mr. Carlyle has written on him, as on one of the most +significant personages of the age? Remember, then, that Cagliostro +was no isolated phenomenon; that his success—nay, his having even +conceived the possibility of success in the brain that lay within that +“brass-faced, bull-necked, thick-lipped” head—was +made possible by public opinion. Had Cagliostro lived in our time, +public opinion would have pointed out to him other roads to honour—on +which he would doubtless have fared as well. For when the silly +dace try to be caught and hope to be caught, he is a foolish pike who +cannot gorge them. But the method most easy for a pike-nature +like Cagliostro’s, was in the eighteenth century, as it may be +in the latter half of the nineteenth, to trade, in a materialist age, +on the unsatisfied spiritual cravings of mankind. For what do +all these phantasms betoken, but a generation ashamed of its own materialism, +sensuality, insincerity, ignorance, and striving to escape therefrom +by any and every mad superstition which seemed likely to give an answer +to the awful questions—What are we, and where? and to lay to rest +those instincts of the unseen and infinite around it, which tormented +it like ghosts by day and night: a sight ludicrous or pathetic, according +as it is looked on by a cynical or a human spirit.</p> +<p>It is easy to call such a phenomenon absurd, improbable. It +is rather rational, probable, say certain to happen. Rational, +I say; for the reason of man tells him, and has always told him, that +he is a supernatural being, if by nature is meant that which is cognisable +by his five senses: that his coming into this world, his relation to +it, his exit from it—which are the three most important facts +about him—are supernatural, not to be explained by any deductions +from the impressions of his senses. And I make bold to say, that +the recent discoveries of physical science—notably those of embryology—go +only to justify that old and general belief of man. If man be +told that the microscope and scalpel show no difference, in the first +stage of visible existence, between him and the lower mammals, then +he has a right to answer—as he will answer—So much the worse +for the microscope and scalpel: so much the better for my old belief, +that there is beneath my birth, life, death, a substratum of supernatural +causes, imponderable, invisible, unknowable by any physical science +whatsoever. If you cannot render me a reason how I came hither, +and what I am, I must go to those who will render me one. And +if that craving be not satisfied by a rational theory of life, it will +demand satisfaction from some magical theory; as did the mind of the +eighteenth century when, revolting from materialism, it fled to magic, +to explain the ever-astounding miracle of life.</p> +<p>The old Régime. Will our age, in its turn, ever be spoken +of as an old Régime? Will it ever be spoken of as a Régime +at all; as an organised, orderly system of society and polity; and not +merely as a chaos, an anarchy, a transitory struggle, of which the money-lender +has been the real guide and lord?</p> +<p>But at least it will be spoken of as an age of progress, of rapid +developments, of astonishing discoveries.</p> +<p>Are you so sure of that? There was an age of progress once. +But what is our age—what is all which has befallen since 1815—save +after-swells of that great storm, which are weakening and lulling into +heavy calm? Are we on the eve of stagnation? Of a long check +to the human intellect? Of a new Byzantine era, in which little +men will discuss, and ape, the deeds which great men did in their forefathers’ +days?</p> +<p>What progress—it is a question which some will receive with +almost angry surprise—what progress has the human mind made since +1815?</p> +<p>If the thought be startling, do me the great honour of taking it +home, and verifying for yourselves its truth or its falsehood. +I do not say that it is altogether true. No proposition concerning +human things, stated so broadly, can be. But see for yourselves, +whether it is not at least more true than false; whether the ideas, +the discoveries, of which we boast most in the nineteenth century, are +not really due to the end of the eighteenth. Whether other men +did not labour, and we have only entered into their labours. Whether +our positivist spirit, our content with the collecting of facts, our +dread of vast theories, is not a symptom—wholesome, prudent, modest, +but still a symptom—of our consciousness that we are not as our +grandfathers were; that we can no longer conceive great ideas, which +illumine, for good or evil, the whole mind and heart of man, and drive +him on to dare and suffer desperately.</p> +<p>Railroads? Electric telegraphs? All honour to them in +their place: but they are not progress; they are only the fruits of +past progress. No outward and material thing is progress; no machinery +causes progress; it merely spreads and makes popular the results of +progress. Progress is inward, of the soul. And, therefore, +improved constitutions, and improved book instruction—now miscalled +education—are not progress: they are at best only fruits and signs +thereof. For they are outward, material; and progress, I say, +is inward. The self-help and self-determination of the independent +soul—that is the root of progress; and the more human beings who +have that, the more progress there is in the world. Give me a +man who, though he can neither read nor write, yet dares think for himself, +and do the thing he believes: that man will help forward the human race +more than any thousand men who have read, or written either, a thousand +books apiece, but have not dared to think for themselves. And +better for his race, and better, I believe, in the sight of God, the +confusions and mistakes of that one sincere brave man, than the second-hand +and cowardly correctness of all the thousand.</p> +<p>As for the “triumphs of science,” let us honour, with +astonishment and awe, the genius of those who invented them; but let +us remember that the things themselves are as a gun or a sword, with +which we can kill our enemy, but with which also our enemy can kill +us. Like all outward and material things, they are equally fit +for good and for evil. In England here—they have been as +yet, as far as I can see, nothing but blessings: but I have my very +serious doubts whether they are likely to be blessings to the whole +human race, for many an age to come. I can conceive them—may +God avert the omen!—the instruments of a more crushing executive +centralisation, of a more utter oppression of the bodies and souls of +men, than the world has yet seen. I can conceive—may God +avert the omen!—centuries hence, some future world-ruler sitting +at the junction of all railroads, at the centre of all telegraph-wires—a +world-spider in the omphalos of his world-wide web; and smiting from +thence everything that dared to lift its head, or utter a cry of pain, +with a swiftness and surety to which the craft of a Justinian or a Philip +II. were but clumsy and impotent.</p> +<p>All, all outward things, be sure of it, are good or evil, exactly +as far as they are in the hands of good men or of bad.</p> +<p>Moreover, paradoxical as it may seem, railroads and telegraphs, instead +of inaugurating an era of progress, may possibly only retard it. +“Rester sur un grand succès,” which was Rossini’s +advice to a young singer who had achieved a triumph, is a maxim which +the world often follows, not only from prudence, but from necessity. +They have done so much that it seems neither prudent nor possible to +do more. They will rest and be thankful.</p> +<p>Thus, gunpowder and printing made rapid changes enough; but those +changes had no farther development. The new art of war, the new +art of literature, remained stationary, or rather receded and degenerated, +till the end of the eighteenth century.</p> +<p>And so it may be with our means of locomotion and intercommunion, +and what depends on them. The vast and unprecedented amount of +capital, of social interest, of actual human intellect invested—I +may say locked up—in these railroads, and telegraphs, and other +triumphs of industry and science, will not enter into competition against +themselves. They will not set themselves free to seek new discoveries +in directions which are often actually opposed to their own, always +foreign to it. If the money of thousands are locked up in these +great works, the brains of hundreds of thousands, and of the very shrewdest +too, are equally locked up therein likewise; and are to be subtracted +from the gross material of social development, and added (without personal +fault of their owners, who may be very good men) to the dead weight +of vested selfishness, ignorance, and dislike of change.</p> +<p>Yes. A Byzantine and stationary age is possible yet. +Perhaps we are now entering upon it; an age in which mankind shall be +satisfied with the “triumphs of science,” and shall look +merely to the greatest comfort (call it not happiness) of the greatest +number; and like the debased Jews of old, “having found the life +of their hand, be therewith content,” no matter in what mud-hole +of slavery and superstition.</p> +<p>But one hope there is, and more than a hope—one certainty, +that however satisfied enlightened public opinion may become with the +results of science, and the progress of the human race, there will be +always a more enlightened private opinion or opinions, which will not +be satisfied therewith at all; a few men of genius, a few children of +light, it may be a few persecuted, and a few martyrs for new truths, +who will wish the world not to rest and be thankful, but to be discontented +with itself, ashamed of itself, striving and toiling upward, without +present hope of gain, till it has reached that unknown goal which Bacon +saw afar off, and like all other heroes, died in faith, not having received +the promises, but seeking still a polity which has foundations, whose +builder and maker is God.</p> +<p>These will be the men of science, whether physical or spiritual. +Not merely the men who utilise and apply that which is known (useful +as they plainly are), but the men who themselves discover that which +was unknown, and are generally deemed useless, if not hurtful, to their +race. They will keep the sacred lamp burning unobserved in quiet +studies, while all the world is gazing only at the gaslights flaring +in the street. They will pass that lamp on from hand to hand, +modestly, almost stealthily, till the day comes round again, when the +obscure student shall be discovered once more to be, as he has always +been, the strongest man on earth. For they follow a mistress whose +footsteps may often slip, yet never fall; for she walks forward on the +eternal facts of Nature, which are the acted will of God. A giantess +she is; young indeed, but humble as yet: cautious and modest beyond +her years. She is accused of trying to scale Olympus, by some +who fancy that they have already scaled it themselves, and will, of +course, brook no rival in their fancied monopoly of wisdom.</p> +<p>The accusation, I believe, is unjust. And yet science may scale +Olympus after all. Without intending it, almost without knowing +it, she may find herself hereafter upon a summit of which she never +dreamed; surveying the universe of God in the light of Him who made +it and her, and remakes them both for ever and ever. On that summit +she may stand hereafter, if only she goes on, as she goes now, in humility +and in patience; doing the duty which lies nearest her; lured along +the upward road, not by ambition, vanity, or greed, but by reverent +curiosity for every new pebble, and flower, and child, and savage, around +her feet.</p> +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">{1}</a> Mr. H. +Reeve’s translation of De Tocqueville’s “France before +the Revolution of 1789.” p. 280.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANCIEN REGIME***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 1335-h.htm or 1335-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/3/1335 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Ancien Regime + + +Author: Charles Kingsley + +Release Date: May 13, 2005 [eBook #1335] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANCIEN REGIME*** + + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1902 "Historical Lectures and Essays" Macmillan and +Co. edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +THE ANCIEN REGIME +by Charles Kingsley + + +PREFACE + + +The rules of the Royal Institution forbid (and wisely) religious or +political controversy. It was therefore impossible for me in these +Lectures, to say much which had to be said, in drawing a just and +complete picture of the Ancien Regime in France. The passages inserted +between brackets, which bear on religious matters, were accordingly not +spoken at the Royal Institution. + +But more. It was impossible for me in these Lectures, to bring forward +as fully as I could have wished, the contrast between the continental +nations and England, whether now, or during the eighteenth century. But +that contrast cannot be too carefully studied at the present moment. In +proportion as it is seen and understood, will the fear of revolution (if +such exists) die out among the wealthier classes; and the wish for it (if +such exists) among the poorer; and a large extension of the suffrage will +be looked on as--what it actually is--a safe and harmless concession to +the wishes--and, as I hold, to the just rights--of large portion of the +British nation. + +There exists in Britain now, as far as I can see, no one of those evils +which brought about the French Revolution. There is no widespread +misery, and therefore no widespread discontent, among the classes who +live by hand-labour. The legislation of the last generation has been +steadily in favour of the poor, as against the rich; and it is even more +true now than it was in 1789, that--as Arthur Young told the French mob +which stopped his carriage--the rich pay many taxes (over and above the +poor-rates, a direct tax on the capitalist in favour of the labourer) +more than are paid by the poor. "In England" (says M. de Tocqueville of +even the eighteenth century) "the poor man enjoyed the privilege of +exemption from taxation; in France, the rich." Equality before the law +is as well-nigh complete as it can be, where some are rich and others +poor; and the only privileged class, it sometimes seems to me, is the +pauper, who has neither the responsibility of self-government, nor the +toil of self-support. + +A minority of malcontents, some justly, some unjustly, angry with the +present state of things, will always exist in this world. But a majority +of malcontents we shall never have, as long as the workmen are allowed to +keep untouched and unthreatened their rights of free speech, free public +meeting, free combination for all purposes which do not provoke a breach +of the peace. There may be (and probably are) to be found in London and +the large towns, some of those revolutionary propagandists who have +terrified and tormented continental statesmen since the year 1815. But +they are far fewer in number than in 1848; far fewer still (I believe) +than in 1831; and their habits, notions, temper, whole mental +organisation, is so utterly alien to that of the average Englishman, that +it is only the sense of wrong which can make him take counsel with them, +or make common cause with them. Meanwhile, every man who is admitted to +a vote, is one more person withdrawn from the temptation to disloyalty, +and enlisted in maintaining the powers that be--when they are in the +wrong, as well as when they are in the right. For every Englishman is by +his nature conservative; slow to form an opinion; cautious in putting it +into effect; patient under evils which seem irremediable; persevering in +abolishing such as seem remediable; and then only too ready to acquiesce +in the earliest practical result; to "rest and be thankful." His faults, +as well as his virtues, make him anti-revolutionary. He is generally too +dull to take in a great idea; and if he does take it in, often too +selfish to apply it to any interest save his own. But now and then, when +the sense of actual injury forces upon him a great idea, like that of +Free-trade or of Parliamentary Reform, he is indomitable, however slow +and patient, in translating his thought into fact: and they will not be +wise statesmen who resist his dogged determination. If at this moment he +demands an extension of the suffrage eagerly and even violently, the wise +statesman will give at once, gracefully and generously, what the +Englishman will certainly obtain one day, if he has set his mind upon it. +If, on the other hand, he asks for it calmly, then the wise statesman +(instead of mistaking English reticence for apathy) will listen to his +wishes all the more readily; seeing in the moderation of the demand, the +best possible guarantee for moderation in the use of the thing demanded. + +And, be it always remembered, that in introducing these men into the +"balance of the Constitution," we introduce no unknown quantity. +Statesmen ought to know them, if they know themselves; to judge what the +working man would do by what they do themselves. He who imputes virtues +to his own class imputes them also to the labouring class. He who +imputes vices to the labouring class, imputes them to his own class. For +both are not only of the same flesh and blood, but, what is infinitely +more important, of the same spirit; of the same race; in innumerable +cases, of the same ancestors. For centuries past the most able of these +men have been working upwards into the middle class, and through it, +often, to the highest dignities, and the highest family connections; and +the whole nation knows how they have comported themselves therein. And, +by a reverse process (of which the physiognomist and genealogist can give +abundant proof), the weaker members of that class which was dominant +during the Middle Age have been sinking downward, often to the rank of +mere day-labourers, and carrying downward with them--sometimes in a very +tragical and pathetic fashion--somewhat of the dignity and the refinement +which they had learnt from their ancestors. + +Thus has the English nation (and as far as I can see, the Scotch +likewise) become more homogeneous than any nation of the Continent, if we +except France since the extermination of the Frankish nobility. And for +that very reason, as it seems to me, it is more fitted than any other +European nation for the exercise of equal political rights; and not to be +debarred of them by arguments drawn from countries which have been +governed--as England has not been--by a caste. + +The civilisation, not of mere book-learning, but of the heart; all that +was once meant by "manners"--good breeding, high feeling, respect for +self and respect for others--are just as common (as far as I have seen) +among the hand-workers of England and Scotland, as among any other class; +the only difference is, that these qualities develop more early in the +richer classes, owing to that severe discipline of our public schools, +which makes mere lads often fit to govern, because they have learnt to +obey: while they develop later--generally not till middle age--in the +classes who have not gone through in their youth that Spartan training, +and who indeed (from a mistaken conception of liberty) would not endure +it for a day. This and other social drawbacks which are but too patent, +retard the manhood of the working classes. That it should be so, is a +wrong. For if a citizen have one right above all others to demand +anything of his country, it is that he should be educated; that whatever +capabilities he may have in him, however small, should have their fair +and full chance of development. But the cause of the wrong is not the +existence of a caste, or a privileged class, or of anything save the +plain fact, that some men will be always able to pay more for their +children's education than others; and that those children will, +inevitably, win in the struggle of life. + +Meanwhile, in this fact is to be found the most weighty, if not the only +argument against manhood suffrage, which would admit many--but too many, +alas!--who are still mere boys in mind. To a reasonable household +suffrage it cannot apply. The man who (being almost certainly married, +and having children) can afford to rent a 5 pound tenement in a town, or +in the country either, has seen quite enough of life, and learnt quite +enough of it, to form a very fair judgment of the man who offers to +represent him in Parliament; because he has learnt, not merely something +of his own interest, or that of his class, but--what is infinitely more +important--the difference between the pretender and the honest man. + +The causes of this state of society, which is peculiar to Britain, must +be sought far back in the ages. It would seem that the distinction +between "earl and churl" (the noble and the non-noble freeman) was +crushed out in this island by the two Norman conquests--that of the Anglo- +Saxon nobility by Sweyn and Canute; and that of the Anglo-Danish nobility +by William and his Frenchmen. Those two terrible calamities, following +each other in the short space of fifty years, seem to have welded +together, by a community of suffering, all ranks and races, at least +south of the Tweed; and when the English rose after the storm, they rose +as one homogeneous people, never to be governed again by an originally +alien race. The English nobility were, from the time of Magna Charta, +rather an official nobility, than, as in most continental countries, a +separate caste; and whatever caste tendencies had developed themselves +before the Wars of the Roses (as such are certain to do during centuries +of continued wealth and power), were crushed out by the great +revolutionary events of the next hundred years. Especially did the +discovery of the New World, the maritime struggle with Spain, the +outburst of commerce and colonisation during the reigns of Elizabeth and +James, help toward this good result. It was in vain for the Lord Oxford +of the day, sneering at Raleigh's sudden elevation, to complain that as +on the virginals, so in the State, "Jacks went up, and heads went down." +The proudest noblemen were not ashamed to have their ventures on the high +seas, and to send their younger sons trading, or buccaneering, under the +conduct of low-born men like Drake, who "would like to see the gentleman +that would not set his hand to a rope, and hale and draw with the +mariners." Thus sprang up that respect for, even fondness for, severe +bodily labour, which the educated class of no nation save our own has +ever felt; and which has stood them in such good stead, whether at home +or abroad. Thus, too, sprang up the system of society by which (as the +ballad sets forth) the squire's son might be a "'prentice good," and +marry + + "The bailiff's daughter dear + That dwelt at Islington," + +without tarnishing, as he would have done on the Continent, the scutcheon +of his ancestors. That which has saved England from a central despotism, +such as crushed, during the eighteenth century, every nation on the +Continent, is the very same peculiarity which makes the advent of the +masses to a share in political power safe and harmless; namely, the +absence of caste, or rather (for there is sure to be a moral fact +underlying and causing every political fact) the absence of that wicked +pride which perpetuates caste; forbidding those to intermarry whom nature +and fact pronounce to be fit mates before God and man. + +These views are not mine only. They have been already set forth so much +more forcibly by M. de Tocqueville, that I should have thought it +unnecessary to talk about them, were not the rhetorical phrases, "Caste," +"Privileged Classes," "Aristocratic Exclusiveness," and such-like, +bandied about again just now, as if they represented facts. If there +remain in this kingdom any facts which correspond to those words, let +them be abolished as speedily as possible: but that such do remain was +not the opinion of the master of modern political philosophy, M. de +Tocqueville. + +He expresses his surprise "that the fact which distinguishes England from +all other modern nations, and which alone can throw light on her +peculiarities, . . . has not attracted more attention, . . . and that +habit has rendered it, as it were, imperceptible to the English +themselves--that England was the only country in which the system of +caste had been not only modified, but effectually destroyed. The +nobility and the middle classes followed the same business, embraced the +same professions, and, what is far more significant, intermarried with +each other. The daughter of the greatest nobleman" (and this, if true of +the eighteenth century, has become far more true of the nineteenth) +"could already, without disgrace, marry a man of yesterday." . . . + +"It has often been remarked that the English nobility has been more +prudent, more able, and less exclusive than any other. It would have +been much nearer the truth to say, that in England, for a very long time +past, no nobility, properly so called, have existed, if we take the word +in the ancient and limited sense it has everywhere else retained." . . . + +"For several centuries the word 'gentleman'" (he might have added, +"burgess") "has altogether changed its meaning in England; and the word +'roturier' has ceased to exist. In each succeeding century it is applied +to persons placed somewhat lower in the social scale" (as the "bagman" of +Pickwick has become, and has deserved to become, the "commercial +gentleman" of our day). "At length it travelled with the English to +America, where it is used to designate every citizen indiscriminately. +Its history is that of democracy itself." . . . + +"If the middle classes of England, instead of making war upon the +aristocracy, have remained so intimately connected with it, it is not +especially because the aristocracy is open to all, but rather, because +its outline was indistinct, and its limit unknown: not so much because +any man might be admitted into it, as because it was impossible to say +with certainty when he took rank there: so that all who approached it +might look on themselves as belonging to it; might take part in its rule, +and derive either lustre or profit from its influence." + +Just so; and therefore the middle classes of Britain, of whatever their +special political party, are conservative in the best sense of that word. + +For there are not three, but only two, classes in England; namely, rich +and poor: those who live by capital (from the wealthiest landlord to the +smallest village shopkeeper); and those who live by hand-labour. Whether +the division between those two classes is increasing or not, is a very +serious question. Continued legislation in favour of the hand-labourer, +and a beneficence towards him, when in need, such as no other nation on +earth has ever shown, have done much to abolish the moral division. But +the social division has surely been increased during the last half +century, by the inevitable tendency, both in commerce and agriculture, to +employ one large capital, where several small ones would have been +employed a century ago. The large manufactory, the large shop, the large +estate, the large farm, swallows up the small ones. The yeoman, the +thrifty squatter who could work at two or three trades as well as till +his patch of moor, the hand-loom weaver, the skilled village craftsman, +have all but disappeared. The handworker, finding it more and more +difficult to invest his savings, has been more and more tempted to +squander them. To rise to the dignity of a capitalist, however small, +was growing impossible to him, till the rise of that co-operative +movement, which will do more than any social or political impulse in our +day for the safety of English society, and the loyalty of the English +working classes. And meanwhile--ere that movement shall have spread +throughout the length and breadth of the land, and have been applied, as +it surely will be some day, not only to distribution, not only to +manufacture, but to agriculture likewise--till then, the best judges of +the working men's worth must be their employers; and especially the +employers of the northern manufacturing population. What their judgment +is, is sufficiently notorious. Those who depend most on the working men, +who have the best opportunities of knowing them, trust them most +thoroughly. As long as great manufacturers stand forward as the +political sponsors of their own workmen, it behoves those who cannot have +had their experience, to consider their opinion as conclusive. As for +that "influence of the higher classes" which is said to be endangered +just now; it will exist, just as much as it deserves to exist. Any man +who is superior to the many, whether in talents, education, refinement, +wealth, or anything else, will always be able to influence a number of +men--and if he thinks it worth his while, of votes--by just and lawful +means. And as for unjust and unlawful means, let those who prefer them +keep up heart. The world will go on much as it did before; and be always +quite bad enough to allow bribery and corruption, jobbery and nepotism, +quackery and arrogance, their full influence over our home and foreign +policy. An extension of the suffrage, however wide, will not bring about +the millennium. It will merely make a large number of Englishmen +contented and loyal, instead of discontented and disloyal. It may make, +too, the educated and wealthy classes wiser by awakening a wholesome +fear--perhaps, it may be, by awakening a chivalrous emulation. It may +put the younger men of the present aristocracy upon their mettle, and +stir them up to prove that they are not in the same effete condition as +was the French noblesse in 1789. It may lead them to take the warnings +which have been addressed to them, for the last thirty years, by their +truest friends--often by kinsmen of their own. It may lead them to ask +themselves why, in a world which is governed by a just God, such great +power as is palpably theirs at present is entrusted to them, save that +they may do more work, and not less, than other men, under the penalties +pronounced against those to whom much is given, and of whom much is +required. It may lead them to discover that they are in a world where it +is not safe to sit under the tree, and let the ripe fruit drop into your +mouth; where the "competition of species" works with ruthless energy +among all ranks of being, from kings upon their thrones to the weeds upon +the waste; where "he that is not hammer, is sure to be anvil;" and he who +will not work, neither shall he eat. It may lead them to devote that +energy (in which they surpass so far the continental aristocracies) to +something better than outdoor amusements or indoor dilettantisms. There +are those among them who, like one section of the old French noblesse, +content themselves with mere complaints of "the revolutionary tendencies +of the age." Let them beware in time; for when the many are on the +march, the few who stand still are certain to be walked over. There are +those among them who, like another section of the French noblesse, are +ready, more generously than wisely, to throw away their own social and +political advantages, and play (for it will never be really more than +playing) at democracy. Let them, too, beware. The penknife and the axe +should respect each other; for they were wrought from the same steel: but +the penknife will not be wise in trying to fell trees. Let them accept +their own position, not in conceit and arrogance, but in fear and +trembling; and see if they cannot play the man therein, and save their +own class; and with it, much which it has needed many centuries to +accumulate and to organise, and without which no nation has yet existed +for a single century. They are no more like the old French noblesse, +than are the commercial class like the old French bourgeoisie, or the +labouring like the old French peasantry. Let them prove that fact by +their deeds during the next generation; or sink into the condition of +mere rich men, exciting, by their luxury and laziness, nothing but envy +and contempt. + +Meanwhile, behind all classes and social forces--I had almost said, above +them all--stands a fourth estate, which will, ultimately, decide the form +which English society is to take: a Press as different from the literary +class of the Ancien Regime as is everything else English; and different +in this--that it is free. + +The French Revolution, like every revolution (it seems to me) which has +convulsed the nations of Europe for the last eighty years, was caused +immediately--whatever may have been its more remote causes--by the +suppression of thought; or, at least, by a sense of wrong among those who +thought. A country where every man, be he fool or wise, is free to speak +that which is in him, can never suffer a revolution. The folly blows +itself off like steam, in harmless noise; the wisdom becomes part of the +general intellectual stock of the nation, and prepares men for gradual, +and therefore for harmless, change. + +As long as the press is free, a nation is guaranteed against sudden and +capricious folly, either from above or from below. As long as the press +is free, a nation is guaranteed against the worse evil of persistent and +obstinate folly, cloaking itself under the venerable shapes of tradition +and authority. For under a free press, a nation must ultimately be +guided not by a caste, not by a class, not by mere wealth, not by the +passions of a mob: but by mind; by the net result of all the common-sense +of its members; and in the present default of genius, which is un-common +sense, common-sense seems to be the only, if not the best, safeguard for +poor humanity. + +1867 + + + + +LECTURE I--CASTE + + +[Delivered at the Royal Institution, London, 1867.] + +These Lectures are meant to be comments on the state of France before the +French Revolution. To English society, past or present, I do not refer. +For reasons which I have set forth at length in an introductory +discourse, there never was any Ancien Regime in England. + +Therefore, when the Stuarts tried to establish in England a system which +might have led to a political condition like that of the Continent, all +classes combined and exterminated them; while the course of English +society went on as before. + +On the contrary, England was the mother of every movement which +undermined, and at last destroyed, the Ancien Regime. + +From England went forth those political theories which, transmitted from +America to France, became the principles of the French Revolution. From +England went forth the philosophy of Locke, with all its immense results. +It is noteworthy, that when Voltaire tries to persuade people, in a +certain famous passage, that philosophers do not care to trouble the +world--of the ten names to whom he does honour, seven names are English. +"It is," he says, "neither Montaigne, nor Locke, nor Boyle, nor Spinoza, +nor Hobbes, nor Lord Shaftesbury, nor Mr. Collins, nor Mr. Toland, nor +Fludd, nor Baker, who have carried the torch of discord into their +countries." It is worth notice, that not only are the majority of these +names English, but that they belong not to the latter but to the former +half of the eighteenth century; and indeed, to the latter half of the +seventeenth. + +So it was with that Inductive Physical Science, which helped more than +all to break up the superstitions of the Ancien Regime, and to set man +face to face with the facts of the universe. From England, towards the +end of the seventeenth century, it was promulgated by such men as Newton, +Boyle, Sydenham, Ray, and the first founders of our Royal Society. + +In England, too, arose the great religious movements of the seventeenth +and eighteenth centuries--and especially that of a body which I can never +mention without most deep respect--the Society of Friends. At a time +when the greater part of the Continent was sunk in spiritual sleep, these +men were reasserting doctrines concerning man, and his relation to his +Creator, which, whether or not all believe them (as I believe them) to be +founded on eternal fact, all must confess to have been of incalculable +benefit to the cause of humanity and civilisation. + +From England, finally, about the middle of the eighteenth century, went +forth--promulgated by English noblemen--that freemasonry which seems to +have been the true parent of all the secret societies of Europe. Of this +curious question, more hereafter. But enough has been said to show that +England, instead of falling, at any period, into the stagnation of the +Ancien Regime, was, from the middle of the seventeenth century, in a +state of intellectual growth and ferment which communicated itself +finally to the continental nations. This is the special honour of +England; universally confessed at the time. It was to England that the +slowly-awakening nations looked, as the source of all which was noble, +true, and free, in the dawning future. + +It will be seen, from what I have said, that I consider the Ancien Regime +to begin in the seventeenth century. I should date its commencement--as +far as that of anything so vague, unsystematic, indeed anarchic, can be +defined--from the end of the Thirty Years' War, and the peace of +Westphalia in 1648. + +For by that time the mighty spiritual struggles and fierce religious +animosities of the preceding century had worn themselves out. And, as +always happens, to a period of earnest excitement had succeeded one of +weariness, disgust, half-unbelief in the many questions for which so much +blood had been shed. No man had come out of the battle with altogether +clean hands; some not without changing sides more than once. The war had +ended as one, not of nations, not even of zealots, but of mercenaries. +The body of Europe had been pulled in pieces between them all; and the +poor soul thereof--as was to be expected--had fled out through the gaping +wounds. Life, mere existence, was the most pressing need. If men +could--in the old prophet's words--find the life of their hand, they were +content. High and low only asked to be let live. The poor asked +it--slaughtered on a hundred battle-fields, burnt out of house and home: +vast tracts of the centre of Europe were lying desert; the population was +diminished for several generations. The trading classes, ruined by the +long war, only asked to be let live, and make a little money. The +nobility, too, only asked to be let live. They had lost, in the long +struggle, not only often lands and power, but their ablest and bravest +men; and a weaker and meaner generation was left behind, to do the +governing of the world. Let them live, and keep what they had. If signs +of vigour still appeared in France, in the wars of Louis XIV. they were +feverish, factitious, temporary--soon, as the event proved, to droop into +the general exhaustion. If wars were still to be waged they were to be +wars of succession, wars of diplomacy; not wars of principle, waged for +the mightiest invisible interests of man. The exhaustion was general; +and to it we must attribute alike the changes and the conservatism of the +Ancien Regime. To it is owing that growth of a centralising despotism, +and of arbitrary regal power, which M. de Tocqueville has set forth in a +book which I shall have occasion often to quote. To it is owing, too, +that longing, which seems to us childish, after ancient forms, +etiquettes, dignities, court costumes, formalities diplomatic, legal, +ecclesiastical. Men clung to them as to keepsakes of the past--revered +relics of more intelligible and better-ordered times. If the spirit had +been beaten out of them in a century of battle, that was all the more +reason for keeping up the letter. They had had a meaning once, a life +once; perhaps there was a little life left in them still; perhaps the dry +bones would clothe themselves with flesh once more, and stand upon their +feet. At least it was useful that the common people should so believe. +There was good hope that the simple masses, seeing the old dignities and +formalities still parading the streets, should suppose that they still +contained men, and were not mere wooden figures, dressed artistically in +official costume. And, on the whole, that hope was not deceived. More +than a century of bitter experience was needed ere the masses discovered +that their ancient rulers were like the suits of armour in the Tower of +London--empty iron astride of wooden steeds, and armed with lances which +every ploughboy could wrest out of their hands, and use in his own +behalf. + +The mistake of the masses was pardonable. For those suits of armour had +once held living men; strong, brave, wise; men of an admirable temper; +doing their work according to their light, not altogether well--what man +does that on earth?--but well enough to make themselves necessary to, and +loyally followed by, the masses whom they ruled. No one can read fairly +the "Gesta Dei per Francos in Oriente," or the deeds of the French +Nobility in their wars with England, or those tales--however legendary--of +the mediaeval knights, which form so noble an element in German +literature, without seeing, that however black were these men's +occasional crimes, they were a truly noble race, the old Nobility of the +Continent; a race which ruled simply because, without them, there would +have been naught but anarchy and barbarism. To their chivalrous ideal +they were too often, perhaps for the most part, untrue: but, partial and +defective as it is, it is an ideal such as never entered into the mind of +Celt or Gaul, Hun or Sclav; one which seems continuous with the spread of +the Teutonic conquerors. They ruled because they did practically raise +the ideal of humanity in the countries which they conquered, a whole +stage higher. They ceased to rule when they were, through their own +sins, caught up and surpassed in the race of progress by the classes +below them. + +But, even when at its best, their system of government had in it--like +all human invention--original sin; an unnatural and unrighteous element, +which was certain, sooner or later, to produce decay and ruin. The old +Nobility of Europe was not a mere aristocracy. It was a caste: a race +not intermarrying with the races below it. It was not a mere +aristocracy. For that, for the supremacy of the best men, all societies +strive, or profess to strive. And such a true aristocracy may exist +independent of caste, or the hereditary principle at all. We may +conceive an Utopia, governed by an aristocracy which should be really +democratic; which should use, under developed forms, that method which +made the mediaeval priesthood the one great democratic institution of old +Christendom; bringing to the surface and utilising the talents and +virtues of all classes, even to the lowest. We may conceive an +aristocracy choosing out, and gladly receiving into its own ranks as +equals, every youth, every maiden, who was distinguished by intellect, +virtue, valour, beauty, without respect to rank or birth; and rejecting +in turn, from its own ranks, each of its own children who fell below some +lofty standard, and showed by weakliness, dulness, or baseness, +incapacity for the post of guiding and elevating their fellow-citizens. +Thus would arise a true aristocracy; a governing body of the really most +worthy--the most highly organised in body and in mind--perpetually +recruited from below: from which, or from any other ideal, we are yet a +few thousand years distant. + +But the old Ancien Regime would have shuddered, did shudder, at such a +notion. The supreme class was to keep itself pure, and avoid all taint +of darker blood, shutting its eyes to the fact that some of its most +famous heroes had been born of such left-handed marriages as that of +Robert of Normandy with the tanner's daughter of Falaise. "Some are so +curious in this behalf," says quaint old Burton, writing about 1650, "as +these old Romans, our modern Venetians, Dutch, and French, that if two +parties dearly love, the one noble, the other ignoble, they may not, by +their laws, match, though equal otherwise in years, fortunes, education, +and all good affection. In Germany, except they can prove their +gentility by three descents, they scorn to match with them. A nobleman +must marry a noblewoman; a baron, a baron's daughter; a knight, a +knight's. As slaters sort their slates, do they degrees and families." + +And doubtless this theory--like all which have held their ground for many +centuries--at first represented a fact. These castes were, at first, +actually superior to the peoples over whom they ruled. I cannot, as long +as my eyes are open, yield to the modern theory of the equality--indeed +of the non-existence--of races. Holding, as I do, the primaeval unity of +the human race, I see in that race the same inclination to sport into +fresh varieties, the same competition of species between those varieties, +which Mr. Darwin has pointed out among plants and mere animals. A +distinguished man arises; from him a distinguished family; from it a +distinguished tribe, stronger, cunninger than those around. It asserts +its supremacy over its neighbours at first exactly as a plant or animal +would do, by destroying, and, where possible, eating them; next, having +grown more prudent, by enslaving them; next, having gained a little +morality in addition to its prudence, by civilising them, raising them +more or less toward its own standard. And thus, in every land, +civilisation and national life has arisen out of the patriarchal state; +and the Eastern scheik, with his wives, free and slave, and his hundreds +of fighting men born in his house, is the type of all primaeval rulers. +He is the best man of his horde--in every sense of the word best; and +whether he have a right to rule them or not, they consider that he has, +and are the better men for his guidance. + +Whether this ought to have been the history of primaeval civilisation, is +a question not to be determined here. That it is the history thereof, is +surely patent to anyone who will imagine to himself what must have been. +In the first place, the strongest and cunningest savage must have had the +chance of producing children more strong and cunning than the average; he +would have--the strongest savage has still--the power of obtaining a +wife, or wives, superior in beauty and in household skill, which involves +superiority of intellect; and therefore his children would--some of them +at least--be superior to the average, both from the father's and the +mother's capacities. They again would marry select wives; and their +children again would do the same; till, in a very few generations, a +family would have established itself, considerably superior to the rest +of the tribe in body and mind, and become assuredly its ruling race. + +Again, if one of that race invented a new weapon, a new mode of tillage, +or aught else which gave him power, that would add to the superiority of +his whole family. For the invention would be jealously kept among them +as a mystery, a hereditary secret. To this simple cause, surely, is to +be referred the system of hereditary caste occupations, whether in Egypt +or Hindoostan. To this, too, the fact that alike in Greek and in +Teutonic legend the chief so often appears, not merely as the best +warrior and best minstrel, but as the best smith, armourer, and +handicraftsman of his tribe. If, however, the inventor happened to be a +low-born genius, its advantages would still accrue to the ruling race. +For nothing could be more natural or more easy--as more than one legend +intimates--than that the king should extort the new secret from his +subject, and then put him to death to prevent any further publicity. + +Two great inventive geniuses we may see dimly through the abysses of the +past, both of whom must have become in their time great chiefs, founders +of mighty aristocracies--it may be, worshipped after their death as gods. + +The first, who seems to have existed after the age in which the black +race colonised Australia, must have been surely a man worthy to hold rank +with our Brindleys, Watts, and Stephensons. For he invented (and mind, +one man must have invented the thing first, and by the very nature of it, +invented it all at once) an instrument so singular, unexpected, unlike +anything to be seen in nature, that I wonder it has not been called, like +the plough, the olive, or the vine, a gift of the immortal gods: and yet +an instrument so simple, so easy, and so perfect, that it spread over all +races in Europe and America, and no substitute could be found for it till +the latter part of the fifteenth century. Yes, a great genius was he, +and the consequent founder of a great aristocracy and conquering race, +who first invented for himself and his children after him a--bow and +arrow. + +The next--whether before or after the first in time, it suits me to speak +of him in second place--was the man who was the potential ancestor of the +whole Ritterschaft, Chivalry, and knightly caste of Europe; the man who +first, finding a foal upon the steppe, deserted by its dam, brought it +home, and reared it; and then bethought him of the happy notion of making +it draw--presumably by its tail--a fashion which endured long in Ireland, +and had to be forbidden by law, I think as late as the sixteenth century. +A great aristocrat must that man have become. A greater still he who +first substituted the bit for the halter. A greater still he who first +thought of wheels. A greater still he who conceived the yoke and pole +for bearing up his chariot; for that same yoke, and pole, and chariot, +became the peculiar instrument of conquerors like him who mightily +oppressed the children of Israel, for he had nine hundred chariots of +iron. Egyptians, Syrians, Assyrians, Greeks, Romans--none of them +improved on the form of the conquering biga, till it was given up by a +race who preferred a pair of shafts to their carts, and who had learnt to +ride instead of drive. A great aristocrat, again, must he have been +among those latter races who first conceived the notion of getting on his +horse's back, accommodating his motions to the beast's, and becoming a +centaur, half-man, half-horse. That invention must have tended, in the +first instance, as surely toward democracy as did the invention of +firearms. A tribe of riders must have been always, more or less, equal +and free. Equal because a man on a horse would feel himself a man +indeed; because the art of riding called out an independence, a +self-help, a skill, a consciousness of power, a personal pride and +vanity, which would defy slavery. Free, because a tribe of riders might +be defeated, exterminated, but never enchained. They could never become +_gleboe adscripti_, bound to the soil, as long as they could take horse +and saddle, and away. History gives us more than one glimpse of such +tribes--the scourge and terror of the non-riding races with whom they +came in contact. Some, doubtless, remember how in the wars between +Alfred and the Danes, "the army" (the Scandinavian invaders) again and +again horse themselves, steal away by night from the Saxon infantry, and +ride over the land (whether in England or in France), "doing unspeakable +evil." To that special instinct of horsemanship, which still +distinguishes their descendants, we may attribute mainly the Scandinavian +settlement of the north and east of England. Some, too, may recollect +the sketch of the primeval Hun, as he first appeared to the astonished +and disgusted old Roman soldier Ammianus Marcellinus; the visages "more +like cakes than faces;" the "figures like those which are hewn out with +an axe on the poles at bridge-ends;" the rat-skin coats, which they wore +till they rotted off their limbs; their steaks of meat cooked between the +saddle and the thigh; the little horses on which "they eat and drink, buy +and sell, and sleep lying forward along his narrow neck, and indulging in +every variety of dream." And over and above, and more important +politically, the common councils "held on horseback, under the authority +of no king, but content with the irregular government of nobles, under +whose leading they force their way through all obstacles." A race--like +those Cossacks who are probably their lineal descendants--to be feared, +to be hired, to be petted, but not to be conquered. + +Instances nearer home of free equestrian races we have in our own English +borderers, among whom (as Mr. Froude says) the farmers and their farm- +servants had but to snatch their arms and spring into their saddles and +they became at once the Northern Horse, famed as the finest light cavalry +in the world. And equal to them--superior even, if we recollect that +they preserved their country's freedom for centuries against the superior +force of England--were those troops of Scots who, century after century, +swept across the border on their little garrons, their bag of oatmeal +hanging by the saddle, with the iron griddle whereon to bake it; careless +of weather and of danger; men too swift to be exterminated, too +independent to be enslaved. + +But if horsemanship had, in these cases, a levelling tendency it would +have the very opposite when a riding tribe conquered a non-riding one. +The conquerors would, as much as possible, keep the art and mystery of +horsemanship hereditary among themselves, and become a Ritterschaft or +chivalrous caste. And they would be able to do so: because the conquered +race would not care or dare to learn the new and dangerous art. There +are persons, even in England, who can never learn to ride. There are +whole populations in Europe, even now, when races have become almost +indistinguishably mixed, who seem unable to learn. And this must have +been still more the case when the races were more strongly separated in +blood and habits. So the Teutonic chief, with his gesitha, comites, or +select band of knights, who had received from him, as Tacitus has it, the +war-horse and the lance, established himself as the natural ruler--and +oppressor--of the non-riding populations; first over the aborigines of +Germany proper, tribes who seem to have been enslaved, and their names +lost, before the time of Tacitus; and then over the non-riding Romans and +Gauls to the South and West, and the Wendish and Sclavonic tribes to the +East. Very few in numbers, but mighty in their unequalled capacity of +body and mind, and in their terrible horsemanship, the Teutonic +Ritterschaft literally rode roughshod over the old world; never checked, +but when they came in contact with the free-riding hordes of the Eastern +steppes; and so established an equestrian caste, of which the [Greek +text] of Athens and the Equites of Rome had been only hints ending in +failure and absorption. + +Of that equestrian caste the symbol was the horse. The favourite, and +therefore the chosen sacrifice of Odin, their ancestor and God, the +horse's flesh was eaten at the sacrificial meal; the horse's head, hung +on the ash in Odin's wood, gave forth oracular responses. As +Christianity came in, and the eating of horse-flesh was forbidden as +impiety by the Church, while his oracles dwindled down to such as that +which Falada's dead head gives to the goose-girl in the German tale, the +magic power of the horse figured only in ballads and legends: but his +real power remained. + +The art of riding became an hereditary and exclusive science--at last a +pedantry, hampered by absurd etiquettes, and worse than useless +traditions; but the power and right to ride remained on the whole the +mark of the dominant caste. Terribly did they often abuse that special +power. The faculty of making a horse carry him no more makes a man a +good man, than the faculties of making money, making speeches, making +books, or making a noise about public abuses. And of all ruffians, the +worst, if history is to be trusted, is the ruffian on a horse; to whose +brutality of mind is superadded the brute power of his beast. A ruffian +on a horse--what is there that he will not ride over, and ride on, +careless and proud of his own shame? When the ancient chivalry of France +descended to that level, or rather delegated their functions to +mercenaries of that level--when the knightly hosts who fought before +Jerusalem allowed themselves to be superseded by the dragoons and +dragonnades of Louis XIV.--then the end of the French chivalry was at +hand, and came. But centuries before that shameful fall there had come +in with Christianity the new thought, that domination meant +responsibility; that responsibility demanded virtue. The words which +denoted rank, came to denote likewise high moral excellencies. The +nobilis, or man who was known, and therefore subject to public opinion, +was bound to behave nobly. The gentleman--gentile-man--who respected his +own gens, or family and pedigree, was bound to be gentle. The courtier, +who had picked up at court some touch of Roman civilisation from Roman +ecclesiastics, was bound to be courteous. He who held an "honour" or +"edel" of land was bound to be honourable; and he who held a "weorthig," +or worthy, thereof, was bound himself to be worthy. In like wise, he who +had the right to ride a horse, was expected to be chivalrous in all +matters befitting the hereditary ruler, who owed a sacred debt to a long +line of forefathers, as well as to the state in which he dwelt; all +dignity, courtesy, purity, self-restraint, devotion--such as they were +understood in those rough days--centred themselves round the idea of the +rider as the attributes of the man whose supposed duty, as well as his +supposed right, was to govern his fellow-men, by example, as well as by +law and force;--attributes which gathered themselves up into that one +word--Chivalry: an idea, which, perfect or imperfect, God forbid that +mankind should ever forget, till it has become the possession--as it is +the God-given right--of the poorest slave that ever trudged on foot; and +every collier-lad shall have become--as some of those Barnsley men proved +but the other day they had become already: + + A very gentle perfect knight. + +Very unfaithful was chivalry to its ideal--as all men are to all ideals. +But bear in mind, that if the horse was the symbol of the ruling caste, +it was not at first its only strength. Unless that caste had had at +first spiritual, as well as physical force on its side, it would have +been soon destroyed--nay, it would have destroyed itself--by internecine +civil war. And we must believe that those Franks, Goths, Lombards, and +Burgunds, who in the early Middle Age leaped on the backs (to use Mr. +Carlyle's expression) of the Roman nations, were actually, in all senses +of the word, better men than those whom they conquered. We must believe +it from reason; for if not, how could they, numerically few, have held +for a year, much more for centuries, against millions, their dangerous +elevation? We must believe it, unless we take Tacitus's "Germania," +which I absolutely refuse to do, for a romance. We must believe that +they were better than the Romanised nations whom they conquered, because +the writers of those nations, Augustine, Salvian, and Sidonius +Apollinaris, for example, say that they were such, and give proof +thereof. Not good men according to our higher standard--far from it; +though Sidonius's picture of Theodoric, the East Goth, in his palace of +Narbonne, is the picture of an eminently good and wise ruler. But not +good, I say, as a rule--the Franks, alas! often very bad men: but still +better, wiser, abler, than those whom they ruled. We must believe too, +that they were better, in every sense of the word, than those tribes on +their eastern frontier, whom they conquered in after centuries, unless we +discredit (which we have no reason to do) the accounts which the Roman +and Greek writers give of the horrible savagery of those tribes. + +So it was in later centuries. One cannot read fairly the history of the +Middle Ages without seeing that the robber knight of Germany or of +France, who figures so much in modern novels, must have been the +exception, and not the rule: that an aristocracy which lived by the +saddle would have as little chance of perpetuating itself, as a +priesthood composed of hypocrites and profligates; that the mediaeval +Nobility has been as much slandered as the mediaeval Church; and the +exceptions taken--as more salient and exciting--for the average: that +side by side with ruffians like Gaston de Foix hundreds of honest +gentlemen were trying to do their duty to the best of their light, and +were raising, and not depressing, the masses below them--one very +important item in that duty being, the doing the whole fighting of the +country at their own expense, instead of leaving it to a standing army of +mercenaries, at the beck and call of a despot; and that, as M. de +Tocqueville says: "In feudal times, the Nobility were regarded pretty +much as the government is regarded in our own; the burdens they imposed +were endured in consequence of the security they afforded. The nobles +had many irksome privileges; they possessed many onerous rights: but they +maintained public order, they administered justice, they caused the law +to be executed, they came to the relief of the weak, they conducted the +business of the community. In proportion as they ceased to do these +things, the burden of their privileges appeared more oppressive, and +their existence became an anomaly in proportion as they ceased to do +these things." And the Ancien Regime may be defined as the period in +which they ceased to do these things--in which they began to play the +idlers, and expected to take their old wages without doing their old +work. + +But in any case, government by a ruling caste, whether of the patriarchal +or of the feudal kind, is no ideal or permanent state of society. So far +from it, it is but the first or second step out of primeval savagery. For +the more a ruling race becomes conscious of its own duty, and not merely +of its own power--the more it learns to regard its peculiar gifts as +entrusted to it for the good of men--so much the more earnestly will it +labour to raise the masses below to its own level, by imparting to them +its own light; and so will it continually tend to abolish itself, by +producing a general equality, moral and intellectual; and fulfil that law +of self-sacrifice which is the beginning and the end of all virtue. + +A race of noblest men and women, trying to make all below them as noble +as themselves--that is at least a fair ideal, tending toward, though it +has not reached, the highest ideal of all. + +But suppose that the very opposite tendency--inherent in the heart of +every child of man--should conquer. Suppose the ruling caste no longer +the physical, intellectual, and moral superiors of the mass, but their +equals. Suppose them--shameful, but not without example--actually sunk +to be their inferiors. And that such a fall did come--nay, that it must +have come--is matter of history. And its cause, like all social causes, +was not a political nor a physical, but a moral cause. The profligacy of +the French and Italian aristocracies, in the sixteenth century, avenged +itself on them by a curse (derived from the newly-discovered America) +from which they never recovered. The Spanish aristocracy suffered, I +doubt not very severely. The English and German, owing to the superior +homeliness and purity of ruling their lives, hardly at all. But the +continental caste, instead of recruiting their tainted blood by healthy +blood from below, did all, under pretence of keeping it pure, to keep it +tainted by continual intermarriage; and paid, in increasing weakness of +body and mind, the penalty of their exclusive pride. It is impossible +for anyone who reads the French memoirs of the sixteenth and seventeenth +centuries, not to perceive, if he be wise, that the aristocracy therein +depicted was ripe for ruin--yea, already ruined--under any form of +government whatsoever, independent of all political changes. Indeed, +many of the political changes were not the causes but the effects of the +demoralisation of the noblesse. Historians will tell you how, as early +as the beginning of the seventeenth century, Henry IV. complained that +the nobles were quitting their country districts; how succeeding kings +and statesmen, notably Richelieu and Louis XIV., tempted the noblesse up +to Paris, that they might become mere courtiers, instead of powerful +country gentlemen; how those who remained behind were only the poor +_hobereaux_, little hobby-hawks among the gentry, who considered it +degradation to help in governing the parish, as their forefathers had +governed it, and lived shabbily in their chateaux, grinding the last +farthing out of their tenants, that they might spend it in town during +the winter. No wonder that with such an aristocracy, who had renounced +that very duty of governing the country, for which alone they and their +forefathers had existed, there arose government by intendants and sub- +delegates, and all the other evils of administrative centralisation, +which M. de Tocqueville anatomises and deplores. But what was the cause +of the curse? Their moral degradation. What drew them up to Paris save +vanity and profligacy? What kept them from intermarrying with the middle +class save pride? What made them give up the office of governors save +idleness? And if vanity, profligacy, pride, and idleness be not +injustices and moral vices, what are? + +The race of heroic knights and nobles who fought under the walls of +Jerusalem--who wrestled, and not in vain, for centuries with the equally +heroic English, in defence of their native soil--who had set to all +Europe the example of all knightly virtues, had rotted down to this; +their only virtue left, as Mr. Carlyle says, being--a perfect readiness +to fight duels. + +Every Intendant, chosen by the Comptroller-General out of the lower-born +members of the Council of State; a needy young plebeian with his fortune +to make, and a stranger to the province, was, in spite of his greed, +ambition, chicane, arbitrary tyranny, a better man--abler, more +energetic, and often, to judge from the pages of De Tocqueville, with far +more sympathy and mercy for the wretched peasantry--than was the count or +marquis in the chateau above, who looked down on him as a roturier; and +let him nevertheless become first his deputy, and then his master. + +Understand me--I am not speaking against the hereditary principle of the +Ancien Regime, but against its caste principle--two widely different +elements, continually confounded nowadays. + +The hereditary principle is good, because it is founded on fact and +nature. If men's minds come into the world blank sheets of paper--which +I much doubt--every other part and faculty of them comes in stamped with +hereditary tendencies and peculiarities. There are such things as +transmitted capabilities for good and for evil; and as surely as the +offspring of a good horse or dog is likely to be good, so is the +offspring of a good man, and still more of a good woman. If the parents +have any special ability, their children will probably inherit it, at +least in part; and over and above, will have it developed in them by an +education worthy of their parents and themselves. If man were--what he +is not--a healthy and normal species, a permanent hereditary caste might +go on intermarrying, and so perpetuate itself. But the same moral reason +which would make such a caste dangerous--indeed, fatal to the liberty and +development of mankind, makes it happily impossible. Crimes and follies +are certain, after a few generations, to weaken the powers of any human +caste; and unless it supplements its own weakness by mingling again with +the common stock of humanity, it must sink under that weakness, as the +ancient noblesse sank by its own vice. Of course there were exceptions. +The French Revolution brought those exceptions out into strong light; and +like every day of judgment, divided between the good and the evil. But +it lies not in exceptions to save a caste, or an institution; and a few +Richelieus, Liancourts, Rochefoucaulds, Noailles, Lafayettes were but the +storks among the cranes involved in the wholesale doom due not to each +individual, but to a system and a class. + +Profligacy, pride, idleness--these are the vices which we have to lay to +the charge of the Teutonic Nobility of the Ancien Regime in France +especially; and (though in a less degree perhaps) over the whole +continent of Europe. But below them, and perhaps the cause of them all, +lay another and deeper vice--godlessness--atheism. + +I do not mean merely want of religion, doctrinal unbelief. I mean want +of belief in duty, in responsibility. Want of belief that there was a +living God governing the universe, who had set them their work, and would +judge them according to their work. And therefore, want of belief, yea, +utter unconsciousness, that they were set in their places to make the +masses below them better men; to impart to them their own civilisation, +to raise them to their own level. They would have shrunk from that which +I just now defined as the true duty of an aristocracy, just because it +would have seemed to them madness to abolish themselves. But the process +of abolition went on, nevertheless, only now from without instead of from +within. So it must always be, in such a case. If a ruling class will +not try to raise the masses to their own level, the masses will try to +drag them down to theirs. That sense of justice which allowed +privileges, when they were as strictly official privileges as the salary +of a judge, or the immunity of a member of the House of Commons; when +they were earned, as in the Middle Age, by severe education, earnest +labour, and life and death responsibility in peace and war, will demand +the abolition of those privileges, when no work is done in return for +them, with a voice which must be heard, for it is the voice of truth and +justice. + +But with that righteous voice will mingle another, most wicked, and yet, +alas! most flattering to poor humanity--the voice of envy, simple and +undisguised; of envy, which moralists hold to be one of the basest of +human passions; which can never be justified, however hateful or unworthy +be the envied man. And when a whole people, or even a majority thereof, +shall be possessed by that, what is there that they will not do? + +Some are surprised and puzzled when they find, in the French Revolution +of 1793, the noblest and the foulest characters labouring in concert, and +side by side--often, too, paradoxical as it may seem, united in the same +personage. The explanation is simple. Justice inspired the one; the +other was the child of simple envy. But this passion of envy, if it +becomes permanent and popular, may avenge itself, like all other sins. A +nation may say to itself, "Provided we have no superiors to fall our +pride, we are content. Liberty is a slight matter, provided we have +equality. Let us be slaves, provided we are all slaves alike." It may +destroy every standard of humanity above its own mean average; it may +forget that the old ruling class, in spite of all its defects and crimes, +did at least pretend to represent something higher than man's necessary +wants, plus the greed of amassing money; never meeting (at least in the +country districts) any one wiser or more refined than an official or a +priest drawn from the peasant class, it may lose the belief that any +standard higher than that is needed; and, all but forgetting the very +existence of civilisation, sink contented into a dead level of +intellectual mediocrity and moral barbarism, crying, "Let us eat and +drink, for to-morrow we die." + +A nation in such a temper will surely be taken at its word. Where the +carcase is, there the eagles will be gathered together; and there will +not be wanting to such nations--as there were not wanting in old Greece +and Rome--despots who will give them all they want, and more, and say to +them: "Yes, you shall eat and drink; and yet you shall not die. For I, +while I take care of your mortal bodies, will see that care is taken of +your immortal souls." + +For there are those who have discovered, with the kings of the Holy +Alliance, that infidelity and scepticism are political mistakes, not so +much because they promote vice, as because they promote (or are supposed +to promote) free thought; who see that religion (no matter of what +quality) is a most valuable assistant to the duties of a minister of +police. They will quote in their own behalf Montesquieu's opinion that +religion is a column necessary to sustain the social edifice; they will +quote, too, that sound and true saying of De Tocqueville's: {1} "If the +first American who might be met, either in his own country, or abroad, +were to be stopped and asked whether he considered religion useful to the +stability of the laws and the good order of society, he would answer, +without hesitation, that no civilised society, but more especially none +in a state of freedom, can exist without religion. Respect for religion +is, in his eyes, the greatest guarantee of the stability of the State, +and of the safety of the community. Those who are ignorant of the +science of government, know that fact at least." + +M. de Tocqueville, when he wrote these words, was lamenting that in +France, "freedom was forsaken;" "a thing for which it is said that no one +any longer cares in France." He did not, it seems to me, perceive that, +as in America the best guarantee of freedom is the reverence for a +religion or religions, which are free themselves, and which teach men to +be free; so in other countries the best guarantee of slavery is, +reverence for religions which are not free, and which teach men to be +slaves. + +But what M. de Tocqueville did not see, there are others who will see; +who will say: "If religion be the pillar of political and social order, +there is an order which is best supported by a religion which is adverse +to free thought, free speech, free conscience, free communion between man +and God. The more enervating the superstition, the more exacting and +tyrannous its priesthood, the more it will do our work, if we help it to +do its own. If it permit us to enslave the body, we will permit it to +enslave the soul." + +And so may be inaugurated a period of that organised anarchy of which the +poet says: + + It is not life, but death, when nothing stirs. + + + + +LECTURE II--CENTRALISATION + + +The degradation of the European nobility caused, of course, the increase +of the kingly power, and opened the way to central despotisms. The +bourgeoisie, the commercial middle class, whatever were its virtues, its +value, its real courage, were never able to stand alone against the +kings. Their capital, being invested in trade, was necessarily subject +to such sudden dangers from war, political change, bad seasons, and so +forth, that its holders, however individually brave, were timid as a +class. They could never hold out on strike against the governments, and +had to submit to the powers that were, whatever they were, under penalty +of ruin. + +But on the Continent, and especially in France and Germany, unable to +strengthen itself by intermarriage with the noblesse, they retained that +timidity which is the fruit of the insecurity of trade; and had to submit +to a more and more centralised despotism, and grow up as they could, in +the face of exasperating hindrances to wealth, to education, to the +possession, in many parts of France, of large landed estates; leaving the +noblesse to decay in isolated uselessness and weakness, and in many cases +debt and poverty. + +The system--or rather anarchy--according to which France was governed +during this transitional period, may be read in that work of M. de +Tocqueville's which I have already quoted, and which is accessible to all +classes, through Mr. H. Reeve's excellent translation. Every student of +history is, of course, well acquainted with that book. But as there is +reason to fear, from language which is becoming once more too common, +both in speech and writing, that the general public either do not know +it, or have not understood it, I shall take the liberty of quoting from +it somewhat largely. I am justified in so doing by the fact that M. de +Tocqueville's book is founded on researches into the French Archives, +which have been made (as far as I am aware) only by him; and contains +innumerable significant facts, which are to be found (as far as I am +aware) in no other accessible work. + +The French people--says M. de Tocqueville--made, in 1789, the greatest +effort which was ever made by any nation to cut, so to speak, their +destiny in halves, and to separate by an abyss that which they had +heretofore been, from that which they sought to become hereafter. But he +had long thought that they had succeeded in this singular attempt much +less than was supposed abroad; and less than they had at first supposed +themselves. He was convinced that they had unconsciously retained, from +the former state of society, most of the sentiments, the habits, and even +the opinions, by means of which they had effected the destruction of that +state of things; and that, without intending it, they had used its +remains to rebuild the edifice of modern society. This is his thesis, +and this he proves, it seems to me, incontestably by documentary +evidence. Not only does he find habits which we suppose--or supposed +till lately--to have died with the eighteenth century, still living and +working, at least in France, in the nineteenth, but the new opinions +which we look on usually as the special children of the nineteenth +century, he shows to have been born in the eighteenth. France, he +considers, is still at heart what the Ancien Regime made her. + +He shows that the hatred of the ruling caste, the intense determination +to gain and keep equality, even at the expense of liberty, had been long +growing up, under those influences of which I spoke in my first lecture. + +He shows, moreover, that the acquiescence in a centralised +administration; the expectation that the government should do everything +for the people, and nothing for themselves; the consequent loss of local +liberties, local peculiarities; the helplessness of the towns and the +parishes: and all which issued in making Paris France, and subjecting the +whole of a vast country to the arbitrary dictates of a knot of despots in +the capital, was not the fruit of the Revolution, but of the Ancien +Regime which preceded it; and that Robespierre and his "Comite de Salut +Public," and commissioners sent forth to the four winds of heaven in +bonnet rouge and carmagnole complete, to build up and pull down, +according to their wicked will, were only handling, somewhat more +roughly, the same wires which had been handled for several generations by +the Comptroller-General and Council of State, with their provincial +intendants. + +"Do you know," said Law to the Marquis d'Argenson, "that this kingdom of +France is governed by thirty intendants? You have neither parliament, +nor estates, nor governors. It is upon thirty masters of request, +despatched into the provinces, that their evil or their good, their +fertility or their sterility, entirely depend." + +To do everything for the people, and let them do nothing for +themselves--this was the Ancien Regime. To be more wise and more loving +than Almighty God, who certainly does not do everything for the sons of +men, but forces them to labour for themselves by bitter need, and after a +most Spartan mode of education; who allows them to burn their hands as +often as they are foolish enough to put them into the fire; and to be +filled with the fruits of their own folly, even though the folly be one +of necessary ignorance; treating them with that seeming neglect which is +after all the most provident care, because by it alone can men be trained +to experience, self-help, science, true humanity; and so become not +tolerably harmless dolls, but men and women worthy of the name; with + + The reason firm, the temperate will, + Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; + The perfect spirit, nobly planned + To cheer, to counsel, and command. + +Such seems to be the education and government appointed for man by the +voluntatem Dei in rebus revelatum, and the education, therefore, which +the man of science will accept and carry out. But the men of the Ancien +Regime--in as far as it was a Regime at all--tried to be wiser than the +Almighty. Why not? They were not the first, nor will be the last, by +many who have made the same attempt. So this Council of State settled +arbitrarily, not only taxes, and militia, and roads, but anything and +everything. Its members meddled, with their whole hearts and minds. They +tried to teach agriculture by schools and pamphlets and prizes; they sent +out plans for every public work. A town could not establish an octroi, +levy a rate, mortgage, sell, sue, farm, or administer their property, +without an order in council. The Government ordered public rejoicings, +saw to the firing of salutes, and illuminating of houses--in one case +mentioned by M. de Tocqueville, they fined a member of the burgher guard +for absenting himself from a Te Deum. All self-government was gone. A +country parish was, says Turgot, nothing but "an assemblage of cabins, +and of inhabitants as passive as the cabins they dwelt in." Without an +order of council, the parish could not mend the steeple after a storm, or +repair the parsonage gable. If they grumbled at the intendant, he threw +some of the chief persons into prison, and made the parish pay the +expenses of the horse patrol, which formed the arbitrary police of +France. Everywhere was meddling. There were reports on +statistics--circumstantial, inaccurate, and useless--as statistics are +too often wont to be. Sometimes, when the people were starving, the +Government sent down charitable donations to certain parishes, on +condition that the inhabitants should raise a sum on their part. When +the sum offered was sufficient, the Comptroller-General wrote on the +margin, when he returned the report to the intendant, "Good--express +satisfaction." If it was more than sufficient, he wrote, "Good--express +satisfaction and sensibility." There is nothing new under the sun. In +1761, the Government, jealous enough of newspapers, determined to start +one for itself, and for that purpose took under its tutelage the _Gazette +de France_. So the public newsmongers were of course to be the +provincial intendants, and their sub-newsmongers, of course, the +sub-delegates. + +But alas! the poor sub-delegates seem to have found either very little +news, or very little which it was politic to publish. One reports that a +smuggler of salt has been hung, and has displayed great courage; another +that a woman in his district has had three girls at a birth; another that +a dreadful storm has happened, but--has done no mischief; a fourth--living +in some specially favoured Utopia--declares that in spite of all his +efforts he has found nothing worth recording, but that he himself will +subscribe to so useful a journal, and will exhort all respectable persons +to follow his example: in spite of which loyal endeavours, the journal +seems to have proved a failure, to the great disgust of the king and his +minister, who had of course expected to secure fine weather by nailing, +like the schoolboy before a holiday, the hand of the weather-glass. + +Well had it been, if the intermeddling of this bureaucracy had stopped +there. But, by a process of evocation (as it was called), more and more +causes, criminal as well as civil, were withdrawn from the regular +tribunals, to those of the intendants and the Council. Before the +intendant all the lower order of people were generally sent for trial. +Bread-riots were a common cause of such trials, and M. de Tocqueville +asserts that he has found sentences, delivered by the intendant, and a +local council chosen by himself, by which men were condemned to the +galleys, and even to death. Under such a system, under which an +intendant must have felt it his interest to pretend at all risks, that +all was going right, and to regard any disturbance as a dangerous +exposure of himself and his chiefs--one can understand easily enough that +scene which Mr. Carlyle has dramatised from Lacretelle, concerning the +canaille, the masses, as we used to call them a generation since: + +"A dumb generation--their voice only an inarticulate cry. Spokesman, in +the king's council, in the world's forum, they have none that finds +credence. At rare intervals (as now, in 1775) they will fling down their +hoes, and hammers; and, to the astonishment of mankind, flock hither and +thither, dangerous, aimless, get the length even of Versailles. Turgot +is altering the corn trade, abrogating the absurdest corn laws; there is +dearth, real, or were it even factitious, an indubitable scarcity of +broad. And so, on the 2nd day of May, 1775, these waste multitudes do +here, at Versailles chateau, in widespread wretchedness, in sallow faces, +squalor, winged raggedness, present as in legible hieroglyphic writing +their petition of grievances. The chateau-gates must be shut; but the +king will appear on the balcony and speak to them. They have seen the +king's face; their petition of grievances has been, if not read, looked +at. In answer, two of them are hanged, on a new gallows forty feet high, +and the rest driven back to their dens for a time." + +Of course. What more exasperating and inexpiable insult to the ruling +powers was possible than this? To persist in being needy and wretched, +when a whole bureaucracy is toiling day and night to make them prosperous +and happy? An insult only to be avenged in blood. Remark meanwhile, +that this centralised bureaucracy was a failure; that after all the +trouble taken to govern these masses, they were not governed, in the +sense of being made better, and not worse. The truth is, that no +centralised bureaucracy, or so-called "paternal government," yet invented +on earth, has been anything but a failure, or is it like to be anything +else: because it is founded on an error; because it regards and treats +men as that which they are not, as things; and not as that which they +are, as persons. If the bureaucracy were a mere Briareus giant, with a +hundred hands, helping the weak throughout the length and breadth of the +empire, the system might be at least tolerable. But what if the +Government were not a Briareus with a hundred hands, but a Hydra with a +hundred heads and mouths, each far more intent on helping itself than on +helping the people? What if sub-delegates and other officials, holding +office at the will of the intendant, had to live, and even provide +against a rainy day? What if intendants, holding office at the will of +the Comptroller-General, had to do more than live, and found it prudent +to realise as large a fortune as possible, not only against disgrace, but +against success, and the dignity fit for a new member of the Noblesse de +la Robe? Would not the system, then, soon become intolerable? Would +there not be evil times for the masses, till they became something more +than masses? + +It is an ugly name, that of "The Masses," for the great majority of human +beings in a nation. He who uses it speaks of them not as human beings, +but as things; and as things not bound together in one living body, but +lying in a fortuitous heap. A swarm of ants is not a mass. It has a +polity and a unity. Not the ants but the fir-needles and sticks, of +which the ants have piled their nest, are a mass. + +The term, I believe, was invented during the Ancien Regime. Whether it +was or not, it expresses very accurately the life of the many in those +days. No one would speak, if he wished to speak exactly, of the masses +of the United States; for there every man is, or is presumed to be, a +personage; with his own independence, his own activities, his own rights +and duties. No one, I believe, would have talked of the masses in the +old feudal times; for then each individual was someone's man, bound to +his master by ties of mutual service, just or unjust, honourable or base, +but still giving him a personality of duties and rights, and dividing him +from his class. + +Dividing, I say. The poor of the Middle Age had little sense of a common +humanity. Those who owned allegiance to the lord in the next valley were +not their brothers; and at their own lord's bidding, they buckled on +sword and slew the next lord's men, with joyful heart and good +conscience. Only now and then misery compressed them into masses; and +they ran together, as sheep run together to face a dog. Some wholesale +wrong made them aware that they were brothers, at least in the power of +starving; and they joined in the cry which was heard, I believe, in +Mecklenburg as late as 1790: "Den Edelman wille wi dodschlagen." Then, +in Wat Tyler's insurrections, in Munster Anabaptisms, in Jacqueries, they +proved themselves to be masses, if nothing better, striking for awhile, +by the mere weight of numbers, blows terrible, though aimless--soon to be +dispersed and slain in their turn by a disciplined and compact +aristocracy. Yet not always dispersed, if they could find a leader; as +the Polish nobles discovered to their cost in the middle of the +seventeenth century. Then Bogdan the Cossack, a wild warrior, not +without his sins, but having deserved well of James Sobieski and the +Poles, found that the neighbouring noble's steward had taken a fancy to +his windmill and his farm upon the Dnieper. He was thrown into prison on +a frivolous charge, and escaped to the Tatars, leaving his wife +dishonoured, his house burnt, his infant lost in the flames, his eldest +son scourged for protesting against the wrong. And he returned, at the +head of an army of Tatars, Socinians, Greeks, or what not, to set free +the serfs, and exterminate Jesuits, Jews, and nobles, throughout Podolia, +Volhynia, Red Russia; to desecrate the altars of God, and slay his +servants; to destroy the nobles by lingering tortures; to strip noble +ladies and maidens, and hunt them to death with the whips of his +Cossacks; and after defeating the nobles in battle after battle, to +inaugurate an era of misery and anarchy from which Poland never +recovered. + +Thus did the masses of Southern Poland discover, for one generation at +least, that they were not many things, but one thing; a class, capable of +brotherhood and unity, though, alas! only of such as belongs to a pack of +wolves. But such outbursts as this were rare exceptions. In general, +feudalism kept the people divided, and therefore helpless. And as +feudalism died out, and with it the personal self-respect and loyalty +which were engendered by the old relations of master and servant, the +division still remained; and the people, in France especially, became +merely masses, a swarm of incoherent and disorganised things intent on +the necessaries of daily bread, like mites crawling over each other in a +cheese. + +Out of this mass were struggling upwards perpetually, all who had a +little ambition, a little scholarship, or a little money, endeavouring to +become members of the middle class by obtaining a Government appointment. +"A man," says M. de Tocqueville, "endowed with some education and small +means, thought it not decorous to die without having been a Government +officer." "Every man, according to his condition," says a contemporary +writer, "wants to be something by command of the king." + +It was not merely the "natural vanity" of which M. de Tocqueville accuses +his countrymen, which stirred up in them this eagerness after place; for +we see the same eagerness in other nations of the Continent, who cannot +be accused (as wholes) of that weakness. The fact is, a Government +place, or a Government decoration, cross, ribbon, or what not, is, in a +country where self-government is unknown or dead, the only method, save +literary fame, which is left to men in order to assert themselves either +to themselves or their fellow-men. + +A British or American shopkeeper or farmer asks nothing of his +Government. He can, if he chooses, be elected to some local office +(generally unsalaried) by the votes of his fellow-citizens. But that is +his right, and adds nothing to his respectability. The test of that +latter, in a country where all honest callings are equally honourable, is +the amount of money he can make; and a very sound practical test that is, +in a country where intellect and capital are free. Beyond that, he is +what he is, and wishes to be no more, save what he can make himself. He +has his rights, guaranteed by law and public opinion; and as long as he +stands within them, and (as he well phrases it) behaves like a gentleman, +he considers himself as good as any man; and so he is. But under the +bureaucratic Regime of the Continent, if a man had not "something by +command of the king," he was nothing; and something he naturally wished +to be, even by means of a Government which he disliked and despised. So +in France, where innumerable petty posts were regular articles of sale, +anyone, it seems, who had saved a little money, found it most profitable +to invest it in a beadledom of some kind--to the great detriment of the +country, for he thus withdrew his capital from trade; but to his own +clear gain, for he thereby purchased some immunity from public burdens, +and, as it were, compounded once and for all for his taxes. The petty +German princes, it seems, followed the example of France, and sold their +little beadledoms likewise; but even where offices were not sold, they +must be obtained by any and every means, by everyone who desired not to +be as other men were, and to become Notables, as they were called in +France; so he migrated from the country into the nearest town, and became +a member of some small body-guild, town council, or what not, bodies +which were infinite in number. In one small town M. de Tocqueville +discovers thirty-six such bodies, "separated from each other by +diminutive privileges, the least honourable of which was still a mark of +honour." Quarrelling perpetually with each other for precedence, +despising and oppressing the very _menu peuple_ from whom they had for +the most part sprung, these innumerable small bodies, instead of uniting +their class, only served to split it up more and more; and when the +Revolution broke them up, once and for all, with all other privileges +whatsoever, no bond of union was left; and each man stood alone, proud of +his "individuality"--his complete social isolation; till he discovered +that, in ridding himself of superiors, he had rid himself also of +fellows; fulfilling, every man in his own person, the old fable of the +bundle of sticks; and had to submit, under the Consulate and the Empire, +to a tyranny to which the Ancien Regime was freedom itself. + +For, in France at least, the Ancien Regime was no tyranny. The middle +and upper classes had individual liberty--it may be, only too much; the +liberty of disobeying a Government which they did not respect. "However +submissive the French may have been before the Revolution to the will of +the king, one sort of obedience was altogether unknown to them. They +knew not what it was to bow before an illegitimate and contested power--a +power but little honoured, frequently despised, but willingly endured +because it may be serviceable, or because it may hurt. To that degrading +form of servitude they were ever strangers. The king inspired them with +feelings . . . which have become incomprehensible to this generation . . .They loved him with the affection due to a father; they revered him +with the respect due to God. In submitting to the most arbitrary of his +commands, they yielded less to compulsion than to loyalty; and thus they +frequently preserved great freedom of mind, even in the most complete +dependence. This liberty, irregular, intermittent," says M. de +Tocqueville, "helped to form those vigorous characters, those proud and +daring spirits, which were to make the French Revolution at once the +object of the admiration and the terror of succeeding generations." + +This liberty--too much akin to anarchy, in which indeed it issued for +awhile--seems to have asserted itself in continual petty resistance to +officials whom they did not respect, and who, in their turn, were more +than a little afraid of the very men out of whose ranks they had sprung. + +The French Government--one may say, every Government on the Continent in +those days--had the special weakness of all bureaucracies; namely, that +want of moral force which compels them to fall back at last on physical +force, and transforms the ruler into a bully, and the soldier into a +policeman and a gaoler. A Government of parvenus, uncertain of its own +position, will be continually trying to assert itself to itself, by +vexatious intermeddling and intruding pretensions; and then, when it +meets with the resistance of free and rational spirits, will either +recoil in awkward cowardice, or fly into a passion, and appeal to the +halter and the sword. Such a Government can never take itself for +granted, because it knows that it is not taken for granted by the people. +It never can possess the quiet assurance, the courteous dignity, without +swagger, yet without hesitation, which belongs to hereditary legislators; +by which term is to be understood, not merely kings, not merely noblemen, +but every citizen of a free nation, however democratic, who has received +from his forefathers the right, the duty, and the example of +self-government. + +Such was the political and social state of the Ancien Regime, not only in +France, but if we are to trust (as we must trust) M. de Tocqueville, in +almost every nation in Europe, except Britain. + +And as for its moral state. We must look for that--if we have need, +which happily all have not--in its lighter literature. + +I shall not trouble you with criticisms on French memoirs--of which those +of Madame de Sevigne are on the whole, the most painful (as witness her +comments on the Marquise de Brinvilliers's execution), because written by +a woman better and more human than ordinary. Nor with "Menagiana," or +other 'ana's--as vain and artificial as they are often foul; nor with +novels and poems, long since deservedly forgotten. On the first perusal +of this lighter literature, you will be charmed with the ease, grace, +lightness with which everything is said. On the second, you will be +somewhat cured of your admiration, as you perceive how little there is to +say. The head proves to be nothing but a cunning mask, with no brains +inside. Especially is this true of a book, which I must beg those who +have read it already, to recollect. To read it I recommend no human +being. We may consider it, as it was considered in its time, the typical +novel of the Ancien Regime. A picture of Spanish society, written by a +Frenchman, it was held to be--and doubtless with reason--a picture of the +whole European world. Its French editor (of 1836) calls it a _grande +epopee_; "one of the most prodigious efforts of intelligence, exhausting +all forms of humanity"--in fact, a second Shakespeare, according to the +lights of the year 1715. I mean, of course, "Gil Blas." So picturesque +is the book, that it has furnished inexhaustible motifs to the +draughtsman. So excellent is its workmanship, that the enthusiastic +editor of 1836 tells us--and doubtless he knows best--that it is the +classic model of the French tongue; and that, as Le Sage "had embraced +all that belonged to man in his composition, he dared to prescribe to +himself to embrace the whole French language in his work." It has been +the parent of a whole school of literature--the Bible of tens of +thousands, with admiring commentators in plenty; on whose souls may God +have mercy! + +And no wonder. The book has a solid value, and will always have, not +merely from its perfect art (according to its own measure and intention), +but from its perfect truthfulness. It is the Ancien Regime itself. It +set forth to the men thereof, themselves, without veil or cowardly +reticence of any kind; and inasmuch as every man loves himself, the +Ancien Regime loved "Gil Blas," and said, "The problem of humanity is +solved at last." But, ye long-suffering powers of heaven, what a +solution! It is beside the matter to call the book ungodly, immoral, +base. Le Sage would have answered: "Of course it is; for so is the world +of which it is a picture." No; the most notable thing about the book is +its intense stupidity; its dreariness, barrenness, shallowness, ignorance +of the human heart, want of any human interest. If it be an epos, the +actors in it are not men and women, but ferrets--with here and there, of +course, a stray rabbit, on whose brains they may feed. It is the inhuman +mirror of an inhuman age, in which the healthy human heart can find no +more interest than in a pathological museum. + +That last, indeed, "Gil Blas" is; a collection of diseased specimens. No +man or woman in the book, lay or clerical, gentle or simple, as far as I +can remember, do their duty in any wise, even if they recollect that they +have any duty to do. Greed, chicane, hypocrisy, uselessness are the +ruling laws of human society. A new book of Ecclesiastes, crying, +"Vanity of vanity, all is vanity;" the "conclusion of the whole matter" +being left out, and the new Ecclesiastes rendered thereby diabolic, +instead of like that old one, divine. For, instead of "Fear God and keep +his commandments, for that is the whole duty of main," Le Sage sends +forth the new conclusion, "Take care of thyself, and feed on thy +neighbours, for that is the whole duty of man." And very faithfully was +his advice (easy enough to obey at all times) obeyed for nearly a century +after "Gil Blas" appeared. + +About the same time there appeared, by a remarkable coincidence, another +work, like it the child of the Ancien Regime, and yet as opposite to it +as light to darkness. If Le Sage drew men as they were, Fenelon tried at +least to draw them as they might have been and still might be, were they +governed by sages and by saints, according to the laws of God. +"Telemaque" is an ideal--imperfect, doubtless, as all ideals must be in a +world in which God's ways and thoughts are for ever higher than man's; +but an ideal nevertheless. If its construction is less complete than +that of "Gil Blas," it is because its aim is infinitely higher; because +the form has to be subordinated, here and there, to the matter. If its +political economy be imperfect, often chimerical, it is because the mind +of one man must needs have been too weak to bring into shape and order +the chaos, social and economic, which he saw around him. M. de +Lamartine, in his brilliant little life of Fenelon, does not hesitate to +trace to the influence of "Telemaque," the Utopias which produced the +revolutions of 1793 and 1848. "The saintly poet was," he says, "without +knowing it, the first Radical and the first communist of his century." +But it is something to have preached to princes doctrines till then +unknown, or at least forgotten for many a generation--free trade, peace, +international arbitration, and the "carriere ouverte aux talents" for all +ranks. It is something to have warned his generation of the dangerous +overgrowth of the metropolis; to have prophesied, as an old Hebrew might +have done, that the despotism which he saw around him would end in a +violent revolution. It is something to have combined the highest +Christian morality with a hearty appreciation of old Greek life; of its +reverence for bodily health and prowess; its joyous and simple country +society; its sacrificial feasts, dances, games; its respect for the gods; +its belief that they helped, guided, inspired the sons of men. It is +something to have himself believed in God; in a living God, who, both in +this life and in all lives to come, rewarded the good and punished the +evil by inevitable laws. It is something to have warned a young prince, +in an age of doctrinal bigotry and practical atheism, that a living God +still existed, and that his laws were still in force; to have shown him +Tartarus crowded with the souls of wicked monarchs, while a few of kingly +race rested in Elysium, and among them old pagans--Inachus, Cecrops, +Erichthon, Triptolemus, and Sesostris--rewarded for ever for having done +their duty, each according to his light, to the flocks which the gods had +committed to their care. It is something to have spoken to a prince, in +such an age, without servility, and without etiquette, of the frailties +and the dangers which beset arbitrary rulers; to have told him that +royalty, "when assumed to content oneself, is a monstrous tyranny; when +assumed to fulfil its duties, and to conduct an innumerable people as a +father conducts his children, a crushing slavery, which demands an heroic +courage and patience." + +Let us honour the courtier who dared speak such truths; and still more +the saintly celibate who had sufficient catholicity of mind to envelop +them in old Grecian dress, and, without playing false for a moment to his +own Christianity, seek in the writings of heathen sages a wider and a +healthier view of humanity than was afforded by an ascetic creed. + +No wonder that the appearance of "Telemaque," published in Holland +without the permission of Fenelon, delighted throughout Europe that +public which is always delighted with new truths, as long as it is not +required to practise them. To read "Telemaque" was the right and the +enjoyment of everyone. To obey it, the duty only of princes. No wonder +that, on the other hand, this "Vengeance de peuples, lecon des rois," as +M. de Lamartine calls it, was taken for the bitterest satire by Louis +XIV., and completed the disgrace of one who had dared to teach the future +king of France that he must show himself, in all things, the opposite of +his grandfather. No wonder if Madame de Maintenon and the court looked +on its portraits of wicked ministers and courtiers as caricatures of +themselves; portraits too, which, "composed thus in the palace of +Versailles, under the auspices of that confidence which the king had +placed in the preceptor of his heir, seemed a domestic treason." No +wonder, also, if the foolish and envious world outside was of the same +opinion; and after enjoying for awhile this exposure of the great ones of +the earth, left "Telemaque" as an Utopia with which private folks had no +concern; and betook themselves to the easier and more practical model of +"Gil Blas." + +But there are solid defects in "Telemaque"--indicating corresponding +defects in the author's mind--which would have, in any case, prevented +its doing the good work which Fenelon desired; defects which are natural, +as it seems to me, to his position as a Roman Catholic priest, however +saintly and pure, however humane and liberal. The king, with him, is to +be always the father of his people; which is tantamount to saying, that +the people are to be always children, and in a condition of tutelage; +voluntary, if possible: if not, of tutelage still. Of self-government, +and education of human beings into free manhood by the exercise of self- +government, free will, free thought--of this Fenelon had surely not a +glimpse. A generation or two passed by, and then the peoples of Europe +began to suspect that they were no longer children, but come to manhood; +and determined (after the example of Britain and America) to assume the +rights and duties of manhood, at whatever risk of excesses or mistakes: +and then "Telemaque" was relegated--half unjustly--as the slavish and +childish dream of a past age, into the schoolroom, where it still +remains. + +But there is a defect in "Telemaque" which is perhaps deeper still. No +woman in it exercises influence over man, except for evil. Minerva, the +guiding and inspiring spirit, assumes of course, as Mentor, a male form; +but her speech and thought is essentially masculine, and not feminine. +Antiope is a mere lay-figure, introduced at the end of the book because +Telemachus must needs be allowed to have hope of marrying someone or +other. Venus plays but the same part as she does in the Tannenhauser +legends of the Middle Age. Her hatred against Telemachus is an integral +element of the plot. She, with the other women or nymphs of the romance, +in spite of all Fenelon's mercy and courtesy towards human frailties, +really rise no higher than the witches of the Malleus Maleficanum. +Woman--as the old monk held who derived femina from fe, faith, and minus, +less, because women have less faith than men--is, in "Telemaque," +whenever she thinks or acts, the temptress, the enchantress; the victim +(according to a very ancient calumny) of passions more violent, often +more lawless, than man's. + +Such a conception of women must make "Telemaque," to the end of time, +useless as a wholesome book of education. It must have crippled its +influence, especially in France, in its own time. For there, for good +and for evil, woman was asserting more and more her power, and her right +to power, over the mind and heart of man. Rising from the long +degradation of the Middle Ages, which had really respected her only when +unsexed and celibate, the French woman had assumed, often lawlessly, +always triumphantly, her just freedom; her true place as the equal, the +coadjutor, the counsellor of man. Of all problems connected with the +education of a young prince, that of the influence of woman was, in the +France of the Ancien Regime, the most important. And it was just that +which Fenelon did not, perhaps dared not, try to touch; and which he most +certainly could not have solved. Meanwhile, not only Madame de +Maintenon, but women whose names it were a shame to couple with hers, +must have smiled at, while they hated, the saint who attempted to +dispense not only with them, but with the ideal queen who should have +been the helpmeet of the ideal king. + +To those who believe that the world is governed by a living God, it may +seem strange, at first sight, that this moral anarchy was allowed to +endure; that the avenging, and yet most purifying storm of the French +Revolution, inevitable from Louis XIV.'s latter years, was not allowed to +burst two generations sooner than it did. Is not the answer--that the +question always is not of destroying the world, but of amending it? And +that amendment must always come from within, and not from without? That +men must be taught to become men, and mend their world themselves? To +educate men into self-government--that is the purpose of the government +of God; and some of the men of the eighteenth century did not learn that +lesson. As the century rolled on, the human mind arose out of the slough +in which Le Sage found it, into manifold and beautiful activity, +increasing hatred of shams and lies, increasing hunger after truth and +usefulness. With mistakes and confusions innumerable they worked: but +still they worked; planting good seed; and when the fire of the French +Revolution swept over the land, it burned up the rotten and the withered, +only to let the fresh herbage spring up from underneath. + +But that purifying fire was needed. If we inquire why the many attempts +to reform the Ancien Regime, which the eighteenth century witnessed, were +failures one and all; why Pombal failed in Portugal, Aranda in Spain, +Joseph II. in Austria, Ferdinand and Caroline in Naples--for these last, +be it always remembered, began as humane and enlightened sovereigns, +patronising liberal opinions, and labouring to ameliorate the condition +of the poor, till they were driven by the murder of Marie Antoinette into +a paroxysm of rage and terror--why, above all, Louis XVI., who attempted +deeper and wiser reforms than any other sovereign, failed more +disastrously than any--is not the answer this, that all these reforms +would but have cleansed the outside of the cup and the platter, while +they left the inside full of extortion and excess? It was not merely +institutions which required to be reformed, but men and women. The +spirit of "Gil Blas" had to be cast out. The deadness, selfishness, +isolation of men's souls; their unbelief in great duties, great common +causes, great self-sacrifices--in a word, their unbelief in God, and +themselves, and mankind--all that had to be reformed; and till that was +done all outward reform would but have left them, at best, in brute ease +and peace, to that soulless degradation, which (as in the Byzantine +empire of old, and seeming in the Chinese empire of to-day) hides the +reality of barbarism under a varnish of civilisation. Men had to be +awakened; to be taught to think for themselves, act for themselves, to +dare and suffer side by side for their country and for their children; in +a word, to arise and become men once more. + +And, what is more, men had to punish--to avenge. Those are fearful +words. But there is, in this God-guided universe, a law of retribution, +which will find men out, whether men choose to find it out or not; a law +of retribution; of vengeance inflicted justly, though not necessarily by +just men. The public executioner was seldom a very estimable personage, +at least under the old Regime; and those who have been the scourges of +God have been, in general, mere scourges, and nothing better; smiting +blindly, rashly, confusedly; confounding too often the innocent with the +guilty, till they have seemed only to punish crime by crime, and replace +old sins by new. But, however insoluble, however saddening that puzzle +be, I must believe--as long as I believe in any God at all--that such men +as Robespierre were His instruments, even in their crimes. + +In the case of the French Revolution, indeed, the wickedness of certain +of its leaders was part of the retribution itself. For the noblesse +existed surely to make men better. It did, by certain classes, the very +opposite. Therefore it was destroyed by wicked men, whom it itself had +made wicked. For over and above all political, economic, social wrongs, +there were wrongs personal, human, dramatic; which stirred not merely the +springs of covetousness or envy, or even of a just demand for the freedom +of labour and enterprise: but the very deepest springs of rage, contempt, +and hate; wrongs which caused, as I believe, the horrors of the +Revolution. + +It is notorious how many of the men most deeply implicated in those +horrors were of the artist class--by which I signify not merely painters +and sculptors--as the word artist has now got, somewhat strangely, to +signify, at least in England--but what the French meant by +_artistes_--producers of luxuries and amusements, play-actors, musicians, +and suchlike, down to that "distracted peruke-maker with two fiery +torches," who, at the storm of the Bastile, "was for burning the +saltpetres of the Arsenal, had not a woman run screaming; had not a +patriot, with some tincture of natural philosophy, instantly struck the +wind out of him, with butt of musket on pit of stomach, overturned the +barrels, and stayed the devouring element." The distracted peruke-maker +may have had his wrongs--perhaps such a one as that of poor Triboulet the +fool, in "Le Roi s'amuse"--and his own sound reasons for blowing down the +Bastile, and the system which kept it up. + +For these very ministers of luxury--then miscalled art--from the periwig- +maker to the play-actor--who like them had seen the frivolity, the +baseness, the profligacy, of the rulers to whose vices they pandered, +whom they despised while they adored! Figaro himself may have looked up +to his master the Marquis as a superior being as long as the law enabled +the Marquis to send him to the Bastile by a lettre de cachet; yet Figaro +may have known and seen enough to excuse him, when lettres de cachet were +abolished, for handing the Marquis over to a Comite de Salut Public. +Disappointed play-actors, like Collet d'Herbois; disappointed poets, like +Fabre d'Olivet, were, they say, especially ferocious. Why not? +Ingenious, sensitive spirits, used as lap-dogs and singing-birds by men +and women whom they felt to be their own flesh and blood, they had, it +may be, a juster appreciation of the actual worth of their patrons than +had our own Pitt and Burke. They had played the valet: and no man was a +hero to them. They had seen the nobleman expose himself before his own +helots: they would try if the helot was not as good as the nobleman. The +nobleman had played the mountebank: why should not the mountebank, for +once, play the nobleman? The nobleman's God had been his five senses, +with (to use Mr. Carlyle's phrase) the sixth sense of vanity: why should +not the mountebank worship the same God, like Carriere at Nantes, and see +what grace and gifts he too might obtain at that altar? + +But why so cruel? Because, with many of these men, I more than suspect, +there were wrongs to be avenged deeper than any wrongs done to the sixth +sense of vanity. Wrongs common to them, and to a great portion of the +respectable middle class, and much of the lower class: but wrongs to +which they and their families, being most in contact with the noblesse, +would be especially exposed; namely, wrongs to women. + +Everyone who knows the literature of that time, must know what I mean: +what had gone on for more than a century, it may be more than two, in +France, in Italy, and--I am sorry to have to say it--Germany likewise. +All historians know what I mean, and how enormous was the evil. I only +wonder that they have so much overlooked that item in the causes of the +Revolution. It seems to me to have been more patent and potent in the +sight of men, as it surely was in the sight of Almighty God, than all the +political and economic wrongs put together. They might have issued in a +change of dynasty or of laws. That, issued in the blood of the +offenders. Not a girl was enticed into Louis XV.'s Petit Trianon, or +other den of aristocratic iniquity, but left behind her, parents nursing +shame and sullen indignation, even while they fingered the ill-gotten +price of their daughter's honour; and left behind also, perhaps, some +unhappy boy of her own class, in whom disappointment and jealousy were +transformed--and who will blame him?--into righteous indignation, and a +very sword of God; all the more indignant, and all the more righteous, if +education helped him to see, that the maiden's acquiescence, her pride in +her own shame, was the ugliest feature in the whole crime, and the most +potent reason for putting an end, however fearful, to a state of things +in which such a fate was thought an honour and a gain, and not a disgrace +and a ruin; in which the most gifted daughters of the lower classes had +learnt to think it more noble to become--that which they became--than the +wives of honest men. + +If you will read fairly the literature of the Ancien Regime, whether in +France or elsewhere, you will see that my facts are true. If you have +human hearts in you, you will see in them, it seems to me, an explanation +of many a guillotinade and fusillade, as yet explained only on the ground +of madness--an hypothesis which (as we do not yet in the least understand +what madness is) is no explanation at all. + +An age of decay, incoherence, and makeshift, varnish and gilding upon +worm-eaten furniture, and mouldering wainscot, was that same Ancien +Regime. And for that very reason a picturesque age; like one of its own +landscapes. A picturesque bit of uncultivated mountain, swarming with +the prince's game; a picturesque old robber schloss above, now in ruins; +and below, perhaps, the picturesque new schloss, with its French +fountains and gardens, French nymphs of marble, and of flesh and blood +likewise, which the prince has partially paid for, by selling a few +hundred young men to the English to fight the Yankees. The river, too, +is picturesque, for the old bridge has not been repaired since it was +blown up in the Seven Years' War; and there is but a single lazy barge +floating down the stream, owing to the tolls and tariffs of his Serene +Highness; the village is picturesque, for the flower of the young men are +at the wars, and the place is tumbling down; and the two old peasants in +the foreground, with the single goat and the hamper of vine-twigs, are +very picturesque likewise, for they are all in rags. + +How sad to see the picturesque element eliminated, and the quiet artistic +beauty of the scene destroyed;--to have steamers puffing up and down the +river, and a railroad hurrying along its banks the wealth of the Old +World, in exchange for the wealth of the New--or hurrying, it may be, +whole regiments of free and educated citizen-soldiers, who fight, they +know for what. How sad to see the alto schloss desecrated by tourists, +and the neue schloss converted into a cold-water cure. How sad to see +the village, church and all, built up again brand-new, and whitewashed to +the very steeple-top;--a new school at the town-end--a new crucifix by +the wayside. How sad to see the old folk well clothed in the fabrics of +England or Belgium, doing an easy trade in milk and fruit, because the +land they till has become their own, and not the prince's; while their +sons are thriving farmers on the prairies of the far West. Very +unpicturesque, no doubt, is wealth and progress, peace and safety, +cleanliness and comfort. But they possess advantages unknown to the +Ancien Regime, which was, if nothing else, picturesque. Men could paint +amusing and often pretty pictures of its people and its places. + +Consider that word, "picturesque." It, and the notion of art which it +expresses, are the children of the Ancien Regime--of the era of decay. +The healthy, vigorous, earnest, progressive Middle Age never dreamed of +admiring, much less of painting, for their own sake, rags and ruins; the +fashion sprang up at the end of the seventeenth century; it lingered on +during the first quarter of our century, kept alive by the reaction from +1815-25. It is all but dead now, before the return of vigorous and +progressive thought. An admirer of the Middle Ages now does not build a +sham ruin in his grounds; he restores a church, blazing with colour, like +a medieval illumination. He has learnt to look on that which went by the +name of picturesque in his great-grandfather's time, as an old Greek or a +Middle Age monk would have done--as something squalid, ugly, a sign of +neglect, disease, death; and therefore to be hated and abolished, if it +cannot be restored. At Carcassone, now, M. Viollet-le-Duc, under the +auspices of the Emperor of the French, is spending his vast learning, and +much money, simply in abolishing the picturesque; in restoring stone for +stone, each member of that wonderful museum of Middle Age architecture: +Roman, Visigothic, Moslem, Romaine, Early English, later French, all is +being reproduced exactly as it must have existed centuries since. No +doubt that is not the highest function of art: but it is a preparation +for the highest, a step toward some future creative school. As the early +Italian artists, by careful imitation, absorbed into their minds the +beauty and meaning of old Greek and Roman art; so must the artists of our +days by the art of the Middle Age and the Renaissance. They must learn +to copy, before they can learn to surpass; and, meanwhile, they must +learn--indeed they have learnt--that decay is ugliness, and the imitation +of decay, a making money out of the public shame. + +The picturesque sprang up, as far as I can discover, suddenly, during the +time of exhaustion and recklessness which followed the great struggles of +the sixteenth century. Salvator Rosa and Callot, two of the earliest +professors of picturesque art, have never been since surpassed. For +indeed, they drew from life. The rags and the ruins, material, and alas! +spiritual, were all around them; the lands and the creeds alike lay +waste. There was ruffianism and misery among the masses of Europe; +unbelief and artificiality among the upper classes; churches and +monasteries defiled, cities sacked, farmsteads plundered and ruinate, and +all the wretchedness which Callot has immortalised--for a warning to evil +rulers--in his Miseres de la Guerre. The world was all gone wrong: but +as for setting it right again--who could do that? And so men fell into a +sentimental regret for the past, and its beauties, all exaggerated by the +foreshortening of time; while they wanted strength or faith to reproduce +it. At last they became so accustomed to the rags and ruins, that they +looked on them as the normal condition of humanity, as the normal field +for painters. + +Only now and then, and especially toward the latter half of the +eighteenth century, when thought began to revive, and men dreamed of +putting the world to rights once more, there rose before them glimpses of +an Arcadian ideal. Country life--the primaeval calling of men--how +graceful and pure it might be! How graceful--if not pure--it once had +been! The boors of Teniers and the beggars of Murillo might be true to +present fact; but there was a fairer ideal, which once had been fact, in +the Eclogues of Theocritus, and the Loves of Daphnis and Chloe. And so +men took to dreaming of shepherds and shepherdesses, and painting them on +canvas, and modelling them in china, according to their cockney notions +of what they had been once, and always ought to be. We smile now at +Sevres and Dresden shepherdesses; but the wise man will surely see in +them a certain pathos. They indicated a craving after something better +than boorishness; and the many men and women may have become the gentler +and purer by looking even at them, and have said sadly to themselves: +"Such might have been the peasantry of half Europe, had it not been for +devastations of the Palatinate, wars of succession, and the wicked wills +of emperors and kings." + + + + +LECTURE III--THE EXPLOSIVE FORCES + + +In a former lecture in this Institution, I said that the human race owed +more to the eighteenth century than to any century since the Christian +era. It may seem a bold assertion to those who value duly the century +which followed the revival of Greek literature, and consider that the +eighteenth century was but the child, or rather grandchild, thereof. But +I must persist in my opinion, even though it seem to be inconsistent with +my description of the very same era as one of decay and death. For side +by side with the death, there was manifold fresh birth; side by side with +the decay there was active growth;--side by side with them, fostered by +them, though generally in strong opposition to them, whether conscious or +unconscious. We must beware, however, of trying to find between that +decay and that growth a bond of cause and effect where there is really +none. The general decay may have determined the course of many men's +thoughts; but it no more set them thinking than (as I have heard said) +the decay of the Ancien Regime produced the new Regime--a loose metaphor, +which, like all metaphors, will not hold water, and must not be taken for +a philosophic truth. That would be to confess man--what I shall never +confess him to be--the creature of circumstances; it would be to fall +into the same fallacy of spontaneous generation as did the ancients, when +they believed that bees were bred from the carcass of a dead ox. In the +first place, the bees were no bees, but flies--unless when some true +swarm of honey bees may have taken up their abode within the empty ribs, +as Samson's bees did in that of the lion. But bees or flies, each sprang +from an egg, independent of the carcass, having a vitality of its own: it +was fostered by the carcass it fed on during development; but bred from +it it was not, any more than Marat was bred from the decay of the Ancien +Regime. There are flies which, by feeding on putridity, become poisonous +themselves, as did Marat: but even they owe their vitality and +organisation to something higher than that on which they feed; and each +of them, however, defaced and debased, was at first a "thought of God." +All true manhood consists in the defiance of circumstances; and if any +man be the creature of circumstances, it is because he has become so, +like the drunkard; because he has ceased to be a man, and sunk downward +toward the brute. + +Accordingly we shall find, throughout the 18th century, a stirring of +thought, an originality, a resistance to circumstances, an indignant +defiance of circumstances, which would have been impossible, had +circumstances been the true lords and shapers of mankind. Had that +latter been the case, the downward progress of the Ancien Regime would +have been irremediable. Each generation, conformed more and more to the +element in which it lived, would have sunk deeper in dull acquiescence to +evil, in ignorance of all cravings save those of the senses; and if at +any time intolerable wrong or want had driven it to revolt, it would have +issued, not in the proclamation of new and vast ideas, but in an anarchic +struggle for revenge and bread. + +There are races, alas! which seem, for the present at least, mastered by +circumstances. Some, like the Chinese, have sunk back into that state; +some, like the negro in Africa, seem not yet to have emerged from it; but +in Europe, during the eighteenth century, were working not merely new +forces and vitalities (abstractions which mislead rather than explain), +but living persons in plenty, men and women, with independent and +original hearts and brains, instinct, in spite of all circumstances, with +power which we shall most wisely ascribe directly to Him who is the Lord +and Giver of Life. + +Such persons seemed--I only say seemed--most numerous in England and in +Germany. But there were enough of them in France to change the destiny +of that great nation for awhile--perhaps for ever. + +M. de Tocqueville has a whole chapter, and a very remarkable one, which +appears at first sight to militate against my belief--a chapter "showing +that France was the country in which men had become most alike." + +"The men," he says, "of that time, especially those belonging to the +upper and middle ranks of society, who alone were at all conspicuous, +were all exactly alike." + +And it must be allowed, that if this were true of the upper and middle +classes, it must have been still more true of the mass of the lowest +population, who, being most animal, are always most moulded--or rather +crushed--by their own circumstances, by public opinion, and by the wants +of five senses, common to all alike. + +But when M. de Tocqueville attributes this curious fact to the +circumstances of their political state--to that "government of one man +which in the end has the inevitable effect of rendering all men alike, +and all mutually indifferent to their common fate"--we must differ, even +from him: for facts prove the impotence of that, or of any other +circumstance, in altering the hearts and souls of men, in producing in +them anything but a mere superficial and temporary resemblance. + +For all the while there was, among these very French, here and there a +variety of character and purpose, sufficient to burst through that very +despotism, and to develop the nation into manifold, new, and quite +original shapes. Thus it was proved that the uniformity had been only in +their outside crust and shell. What tore the nation to pieces during the +Reign of Terror, but the boundless variety and originality of the +characters which found themselves suddenly in free rivalry? What else +gave to the undisciplined levies, the bankrupt governments, the parvenu +heroes of the Republic, a manifold force, a self-dependent audacity, +which made them the conquerors, and the teachers (for good and evil) of +the civilised world? If there was one doctrine which the French +Revolution specially proclaimed--which it caricatured till it brought it +into temporary disrepute--it was this: that no man is like another; that +in each is a God-given "individuality," an independent soul, which no +government or man has a right to crush, or can crush in the long run: but +which ought to have, and must have, a "carriere ouverte aux talents," +freely to do the best for itself in the battle of life. The French +Revolution, more than any event since twelve poor men set forth to +convert the world some eighteen hundred years ago, proves that man ought +not to be, and need not be, the creature of circumstances, the puppet of +institutions; but, if he will, their conqueror and their lord. + +Of these original spirits who helped to bring life out of death, and the +modern world out of the decay of the mediaeval world, the French +_philosophes_ and encyclopaedists are, of course, the most notorious. +They confessed, for the most part, that their original inspiration had +come from England. They were, or considered themselves, the disciples of +Locke; whose philosophy, it seems to me, their own acts disproved. + +And first, a few words on these same _philosophes_. One may be +thoroughly aware of their deficiencies, of their sins, moral as well as +intellectual; and yet one may demand that everyone should judge them +fairly--which can only be done by putting himself in their place; and any +fair judgment of them will, I think, lead to the conclusion that they +were not mere destroyers, inflamed with hate of everything which mankind +had as yet held sacred. Whatever sacred things they despised, one sacred +thing they reverenced, which men had forgotten more and more since the +seventeenth century--common justice and common humanity. It was this, I +believe, which gave them their moral force. It was this which drew +towards them the hearts, not merely of educated bourgeois and nobles (on +the _menu peuple_ they had no influence, and did not care to have any), +but of every continental sovereign who felt in himself higher aspirations +than those of a mere selfish tyrant--Frederick the Great, Christina of +Sweden, Joseph of Austria, and even that fallen Juno, Catharine of +Russia, with all her sins. To take the most extreme instance--Voltaire. +We may question his being a philosopher at all. We may deny that he had +even a tincture of formal philosophy. We may doubt much whether he had +any of that human and humorous common sense, which is often a good +substitute for the philosophy of the schools. We may feel against him a +just and honest indignation when we remember that he dared to travestie +into a foul satire the tale of his country's purest and noblest heroine; +but we must recollect, at the same time, that he did a public service to +the morality of his own country, and of all Europe, by his +indignation--quite as just and honest as any which we may feel--at the +legal murder of Calas. We must recollect that, if he exposes baseness +and foulness with too cynical a license of speech (in which, indeed, he +sinned no more than had the average of French writers since the days of +Montaigne), he at least never advocates them, as did Le Sage. We must +recollect that, scattered throughout his writings, are words in favour of +that which is just, merciful, magnanimous, and even, at times, in favour +of that which is pure; which proves that in Voltaire, as in most men, +there was a double self--the one sickened to cynicism by the iniquity and +folly which he saw around him--the other, hungering after a nobler life, +and possibly exciting that hunger in one and another, here and there, who +admired him for other reasons than the educated mob, which cried after +him "Vive la Pucelle." + +Rousseau, too. Easy it is to feel disgust, contempt, for the +"Confessions" and the "Nouvelle Heloise"--for much, too much, in the +man's own life and character. One would think the worse of the young +Englishman who did not so feel, and express his feelings roundly and +roughly. But all young Englishmen should recollect, that to Rousseau's +"Emile" they owe their deliverance from the useless pedantries, the +degrading brutalities, of the medieval system of school education; that +"Emile" awakened throughout civilised Europe a conception of education +just, humane, rational, truly scientific, because founded upon facts; +that if it had not been written by one writhing under the bitter +consequences of mis-education, and feeling their sting and their brand +day by day on his own spirit, Miss Edgeworth might never have reformed +our nurseries, or Dr. Arnold our public schools. + +And so with the rest of the _philosophes_. That there were charlatans +among them, vain men, pretentious men, profligate men, selfish, +self-seeking, and hypocritical men, who doubts? Among what class of men +were there not such in those evil days? In what class of men are there +not such now, in spite of all social and moral improvement? But nothing +but the conviction, among the average, that they were in the right--that +they were fighting a battle for which it was worth while to dare, and if +need be to suffer, could have enabled them to defy what was then public +opinion, backed by overwhelming physical force. + +Their intellectual defects are patent. No one can deny that their +inductions were hasty and partial: but then they were inductions as +opposed to the dull pedantry of the schools, which rested on tradition +only half believed, or pretended to be believed. No one can deny that +their theories were too general and abstract; but then they were theories +as opposed to the no-theory of the Ancien Regime, which was, "Let us eat +and drink, for to-morrow we die." + +Theories--principles--by them if men do not live, by them men are, at +least, stirred into life, at the sight of something more noble than +themselves. Only by great ideas, right or wrong, could such a world as +that which Le Sage painted, be roused out of its slough of foul +self-satisfaction, and equally foul self-discontent. + +For mankind is ruled and guided, in the long run, not by practical +considerations, not by self-interest, not by compromises; but by theories +and principles, and those of the most abstruse, delicate, supernatural, +and literally unspeakable kind; which, whether they be according to +reason or not, are so little according to logic--that is, to speakable +reason--that they cannot be put into speech. Men act, whether singly or +in masses, by impulses and instincts for which they give reasons quite +incompetent, often quite irrelevant; but which they have caught from each +other, as they catch fever or small-pox; as unconsciously, and yet as +practically and potently; just as the nineteenth century has caught from +the philosophers of the eighteenth most practical rules of conduct, +without even (in most cases) having read a word of their works. + +And what has this century caught from these philosophers? One rule it +has learnt, and that a most practical one--to appeal in all cases, as +much as possible, to "Reason and the Laws of Nature." That, at least, +the philosophers tried to do. Often they failed. Their conceptions of +reason and of the laws of nature being often incorrect, they appealed to +unreason and to laws which were not those of nature. "The fixed idea of +them all was," says M. de Tocqueville, "to substitute simple and +elementary rules, deduced from reason and natural law, for the +complicated traditional customs which governed the society of their +time." They were often rash, hasty, in the application of their method. +They ignored whole classes of facts, which, though spiritual and not +physical, are just as much facts, and facts for science, as those which +concern a stone or a fungus. They mistook for merely complicated +traditional customs, many most sacred institutions which were just as +much founded on reason and natural law, as any theories of their own. But +who shall say that their method was not correct? That it was not the +only method? They appealed to reason. Would you have had them appeal to +unreason? They appealed to natural law. Would you have had them appeal +to unnatural law?--law according to which God did not make this world? +Alas! that had been done too often already. Solomon saw it done in his +time, and called it folly, to which he prophesied no good end. Rabelais +saw it done in his time; and wrote his chapters on the "Children of +Physis and the Children of Antiphysis." But, born in an evil generation, +which was already, even in 1500, ripening for the revolution of 1789, he +was sensual and, I fear, cowardly enough to hide his light, not under a +bushel, but under a dunghill; till men took him for a jester of jests; +and his great wisdom was lost to the worse and more foolish generations +which followed him, and thought they understood him. + +But as for appealing to natural law for that which is good for men, and +to reason for the power of discerning that same good--if man cannot find +truth by that method, by what method shall he find it? + +And thus it happened that, though these philosophers and encyclopaedists +were not men of science, they were at least the heralds and the +coadjutors of science. + +We may call them, and justly, dreamers, theorists, fanatics. But we must +recollect that one thing they meant to do, and did. They recalled men to +facts; they bid them ask of everything they saw--What are the facts of +the case? Till we know the facts, argument is worse than useless. + +Now the habit of asking for the facts of the case must deliver men more +or less from that evil spirit which the old Romans called "Fama;" from +her whom Virgil described in the AEneid as the ugliest, the falsest, and +the cruellest of monsters. + +From "Fama;" from rumours, hearsays, exaggerations, scandals, +superstitions, public opinions--whether from the ancient public opinion +that the sun went round the earth, or the equally public opinion, that +those who dared to differ from public opinion were hateful to the deity, +and therefore worthy of death--from all these blasts of Fame's lying +trumpet they helped to deliver men; and they therefore helped to insure +something like peace and personal security for those quiet, modest, and +generally virtuous men, who, as students of physical science, devoted +their lives, during the eighteenth century, to asking of nature--What are +the facts of the case? + +It was no coincidence, but a connection of cause and effect, that during +the century of _philosopher_ sound physical science throve, as she had +never thriven before; that in zoology and botany, chemistry and medicine, +geology and astronomy, man after man, both of the middle and the noble +classes, laid down on more and more sound, because more and more extended +foundations, that physical science which will endure as an everlasting +heritage to mankind; endure, even though a second Byzantine period should +reduce it to a timid and traditional pedantry, or a second irruption of +barbarians sweep it away for awhile, to revive again (as classic +philosophy revived in the fifteenth century) among new and more energetic +races; when the kingdom of God shall have been taken away from us, and +given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof. + +An eternal heritage, I say, for the human race; which once gained, can +never be lost; which stands, and will stand; marches, and will march, +proving its growth, its health, its progressive force, its certainty of +final victory, by those very changes, disputes, mistakes, which the +ignorant and the bigoted hold up to scorn, as proofs of its uncertainty +and its rottenness; because they never have dared or cared to ask +boldly--What are the facts of the case?--and have never discovered either +the acuteness, the patience, the calm justice, necessary for ascertaining +the facts, or their awful and divine certainty when once ascertained. + +[But these philosophers (it will be said) hated all religion. + +Before that question can be fairly discussed, it is surely right to +consider what form of religion that was which they found working round +them in France, and on the greater part of the Continent. The quality +thereof may have surely had something to do (as they themselves asserted) +with that "sort of rage" with which (to use M. de Tocqueville's words) +"the Christian religion was attacked in France." + +M. de Tocqueville is of opinion (and his opinion is likely to be just) +that "the Church was not more open to attack in France than elsewhere; +that the corruptions and abuses which had been allowed to creep into it +were less, on the contrary, there than in most Catholic countries. The +Church of France was infinitely more tolerant than it ever had been +previously, and than it still was among other nations. Consequently, the +peculiar causes of this phenomenon" (the hatred which it aroused) "must +be looked for less in the condition of religion than in that of society." + +"We no longer," he says, shortly after, "ask in what the Church of that +day erred as a religious institution, but how far it stood opposed to the +political revolution which was at hand." And he goes on to show how the +principles of her ecclesiastical government, and her political position, +were such that the _philosophes_ must needs have been her enemies. But +he mentions another fact which seems to me to belong neither to the +category of religion nor to that of politics; a fact which, if he had +done us the honour to enlarge upon it, might have led him and his readers +to a more true understanding of the disrepute into which Christianity had +fallen in France. + +"The ecclesiastical authority had been specially employed in keeping +watch over the progress of thought; and the censorship of books was a +daily annoyance to the _philosophes_. By defending the common liberties +of the human mind against the Church, they were combating in their own +cause: and they began by breaking the shackles which pressed most closely +on themselves." + +Just so. And they are not to be blamed if they pressed first and most +earnestly reforms which they knew by painful experience to be necessary. +All reformers are wont thus to begin at home. It is to their honour if, +not content with shaking off their own fetters, they begin to see that +others are fettered likewise; and, reasoning from the particular to the +universal, to learn that their own cause is the cause of mankind. + +There is, therefore, no reason to doubt that these men were honest, when +they said that they were combating, not in their own cause merely, but in +that of humanity; and that the Church was combating in her own cause, and +that of her power and privilege. The Church replied that she, too, was +combating for humanity; for its moral and eternal well-being. But that +is just what the _philosophes_ denied. They said (and it is but fair to +take a statement which appears on the face of all their writings; which +is the one key-note on which they ring perpetual changes), that the cause +of the Church in France was not that of humanity, but of inhumanity; not +that of nature, but of unnature; not even that of grace, but of disgrace. +Truely or falsely, they complained that the French clergy had not only +identified themselves with the repression of free thought, and of +physical science, especially that of the Newtonian astronomy, but that +they had proved themselves utterly unfit, for centuries past, to exercise +any censorship whatsoever over the thoughts of men: that they had +identified themselves with the cause of darkness, not of light; with +persecution and torture, with the dragonnades of Louis XIV., with the +murder of Calas and of Urban Grandier; with celibacy, hysteria, +demonology, witchcraft, and the shameful public scandals, like those of +Gauffredi, Grandier, and Pere Giraud, which had arisen out of mental +disease; with forms of worship which seemed to them (rightly or wrongly) +idolatry, and miracles which seemed to them (rightly or wrongly) +impostures; that the clergy interfered perpetually with the sanctity of +family life, as well as with the welfare of the state; that their evil +counsels, and specially those of the Jesuits, had been patent and potent +causes of much of the misrule and misery of Louis XIV.'s and XV.'s +reigns; and that with all these heavy counts against them, their morality +was not such as to make other men more moral; and was not--at least among +the hierarchy--improving, or likely to improve. To a Mazarin, a De Retz, +a Richelieu (questionable men enough) had succeeded a Dubois, a Rohan, a +Lomenie de Brienne, a Maury, a Talleyrand; and at the revolution of 1789 +thoughtful Frenchmen asked, once and for all, what was to be done with a +Church of which these were the hierophants? + +Whether these complaints affected the French Church as a "religious" +institution, must depend entirely on the meaning which is attached to the +word "religion": that they affected her on scientific, rational, and +moral grounds, independent of any merely political one, is as patent as +that the attack based on them was one-sided, virulent, and often somewhat +hypocritical, considering the private morals of many of the assailants. +We know--or ought to know--that within that religion which seemed to the +_philosophes_ (so distorted and defaced had it become) a nightmare dream, +crushing the life out of mankind, there lie elements divine, eternal; +necessary for man in this life and the life to come. But we are bound to +ask--Had they a fair chance of knowing what we know? Have we proof that +their hatred was against all religion, or only against that which they +saw around them? Have we proof that they would have equally hated, had +they been in permanent contact with them, creeds more free from certain +faults which seemed to them, in the case of the French Church, +ineradicable and inexpiable? Till then we must have charity--which is +justice--even for the _philosophes_ of the eighteenth century. + +This view of the case had been surely overlooked by M. de Tocqueville, +when he tried to explain by the fear of revolutions, the fact that both +in America and in England, "while the boldest political doctrines of the +eighteenth-century philosophers have been adopted, their anti-religious +doctrines have made no way." + +He confesses that, "Among the English, French irreligious philosophy had +been preached, even before the greater part of the French philosophers +were born. It was Bolingbroke who set up Voltaire. Throughout the +eighteenth century infidelity had celebrated champions in England. Able +writers and profound thinkers espoused that cause, but they were never +able to render it triumphant as in France." Of these facts there can be +no doubt: but the cause which he gives for the failure of infidelity will +surely sound new and strange to those who know the English literature and +history of that century. It was, he says, "inasmuch as all those who had +anything to fear from revolutions, eagerly came to the rescue of the +established faith." Surely there was no talk of revolutions; no wish, +expressed or concealed, to overthrow either government or society, in the +aristocratic clique to whom English infidelity was confined. Such was, +at least, the opinion of Voltaire, who boasted that "All the works of the +modern philosophers together would never make as much noise in the world +as was made in former days by the disputes of the Cordeliers about the +shape of their sleeves and hoods." If (as M. de Tocqueville says) +Bolingbroke set up Voltaire, neither master nor pupil had any more +leaning than Hobbes had toward a democracy which was not dreaded in those +days because it had never been heard of. And if (as M. de Tocqueville +heartily allows) the English apologists of Christianity triumphed, at +least for the time being, the cause of their triumph must be sought in +the plain fact that such men as Berkeley, Butler, and Paley, each +according to his light, fought the battle fairly, on the common ground of +reason and philosophy, instead of on that of tradition and authority; and +that the forms of Christianity current in England--whether Quaker, +Puritan, or Anglican--offended, less than that current in France, the +common-sense and the human instincts of the many, or of the sceptics +themselves.] + +But the eighteenth century saw another movement, all the more powerful, +perhaps, because it was continually changing its shape, even its purpose; +and gaining fresh life and fresh adherents with every change. Propagated +at first by men of the school of Locke, it became at last a protest +against the materialism of that school, on behalf of all that is, or +calls itself, supernatural and mysterious. Abjuring, and honestly, all +politics, it found itself sucked into the political whirlpool in spite of +itself, as all human interests which have any life in them must be at +last. It became an active promoter of the Revolution; then it helped to +destroy the Revolution, when that had, under Napoleon, become a levelling +despotism; then it helped, as actively, to keep revolutionary principles +alive, after the reaction of 1815:--a Protean institution, whose power we +in England are as apt to undervalue as the governments of the Continent +were apt, during the eighteenth century, to exaggerate it. I mean, of +course, Freemasonry, and the secret societies which, honestly and +honourably disowned by Freemasonry, yet have either copied it, or +actually sprung out of it. In England, Freemasonry never was, it seems, +more than a liberal and respectable benefit-club; for secret societies +are needless for any further purposes, amid free institutions and a free +press. But on the Continent during the eighteenth century, Freemasonry +excited profound suspicion and fear on the part of statesmen who knew +perfectly well their friends from their foes; and whose precautions were, +from their point of view, justified by the results. + +I shall not enter into the deep question of the origin of Freemasonry. +One uninitiate, as I am, has no right to give an opinion on the great +questions of the mediaeval lodge of Kilwinning and its Scotch degrees; on +the seven Templars, who, after poor Jacques Molay was burnt at Paris, +took refuge on the Isle of Mull, in Scotland, found there another Templar +and brother Mason, ominously named Harris; took to the trowel in earnest, +and revived the Order;--on the Masons who built Magdeburg Cathedral in +876; on the English Masons assembled in Pagan times by "St. Albone, that +worthy knight;" on the revival of English Masonry by Edwin, son of +Athelstan; on Magnus Grecus, who had been at the building of Solomon's +Temple, and taught Masonry to Charles Martel; on the pillars Jachin and +Boaz; on the masonry of Hiram of Tyre, and indeed of Adam himself, of +whose first fig-leaf the masonic apron may be a type--on all these +matters I dare no more decide than on the making of the Trojan Horse, the +birth of Romulus and Remus, or the incarnation of Vishnoo. + +All I dare say is, that Freemasonry emerges in its present form into +history and fact, seemingly about the beginning of George I.'s reign, +among Englishmen and noblemen, notably in four lodges in the city of +London: (1) at The Goose and Gridiron alehouse in St. Paul's Churchyard; +(2) at The Crown alehouse near Drury Lane; (3) at The Apple Tree tavern +near Covent Garden; (4) at The Rummer and Grapes tavern, in Charnel Row, +Westminster. That its principles were brotherly love and good +fellowship, which included in those days port, sherry, claret, and punch; +that it was founded on the ground of mere humanity, in every sense of the +word; being (as was to be expected from the temper of the times) both +aristocratic and liberal, admitting to its ranks virtuous gentlemen +"obliged," says an old charge, "only to that religion wherein all men +agree, leaving their particular opinions to themselves: that is, to be +good men and true, or men of honour and honesty, by whatever +denominations or persuasions they may be distinguished; whereby Masonry +becomes the centre of union and means of conciliating true friendship +among persons that otherwise must have remained at a distance." + +Little did the honest gentlemen who established or re-established their +society on these grounds, and fenced it with quaint ceremonies, old or +new, conceive the importance of their own act; we, looking at it from a +distance, may see all that such a society involved, which was quite new +to the world just then; and see, that it was the very child of the Ancien +Regime--of a time when men were growing weary of the violent factions, +political and spiritual, which had torn Europe in pieces for more than a +century, and longed to say: "After all, we are all alike in one thing--for +we are at least men." + +Its spread through England and Scotland, and the seceding bodies which +arose from it, as well as the supposed Jacobite tendency of certain +Scotch lodges, do not concern us here. The point interesting to us just +now is, that Freemasonry was imported to the Continent exclusively by +English and Scotch gentlemen and noblemen. Lord Derwentwater is said by +some to have founded the "Loge Anglaise" in Paris in 1725; the Duke of +Richmond one in his own castle of Aubigny shortly after. It was through +Hanoverian influence that the movement seems to have spread into Germany. +In 1733, for instance, the English Grand Master, Lord Strathmore, +permitted eleven German gentlemen and good brethren to form a lodge in +Hamburg. Into this English Society was Frederick the Great, when Crown +Prince, initiated, in spite of strict old Frederick William's objections, +who had heard of it as an English invention of irreligious tendency. +Francis I. of Austria was made a Freemason at the Hague, Lord +Chesterfield being in the chair, and then became a Master in London under +the name of "Brother Lothringen," to the discontent of Maria Theresa, +whose woman's wit saw farther than her husband. Englishmen and Scotchmen +introduced the new society into Russia and into Geneva. Sweden and +Poland seem to have received it from France; while, in the South, it +seems to have been exclusively an English plant. Sackville, Duke of +Middlesex, is said to have founded the first lodge at Florence in 1733, +Lord Coleraine at Gibraltar and Madrid, one Gordon in Portugal; and +everywhere, at the commencement of the movement, we find either London or +Scotland the mother-lodges, introducing on the Continent those liberal +and humane ideas of which England was then considered, to her glory, as +the only home left on earth. + +But, alas! the seed sown grew up into strange shapes, according to the +soil in which it rooted. False doctrine, heresy, and schism, according +to Herr Findel, the learned and rational historian whom I have chiefly +followed, defiled the new Church from its infancy. "In France," so he +bemoans himself, "first of all there shot up that baneful seed of lies +and frauds, of vanity and presumption, of hatred and discord, the +mischievous high degrees; the misstatement that our order was allied to +the Templars, and existed at the time of the Crusades; the removal of old +charges, the bringing in surreptitiously of a multitude of symbols and +forms which awoke the love of secrecy; knighthood; and, in fact, all +which tended to poison Freemasonry." Herr Findel seems to attribute +these evils principally to the "high degrees." It would have been more +simple to have attributed them to the morals of the French noblesse in +the days of Louis Quinze. What could a corrupt tree bring forth, but +corrupt fruit? If some of the early lodges, like those of "La Felicite" +and "L'Ancre," to which women were admitted, resembled not a little the +Bacchic mysteries of old Rome, and like them called for the interference +of the police, still no great reform was to be expected, when those +Sovereign Masonic Princes, the "Emperors of the East and West," +quarrelled--knights of the East against knights of the West--till they +were absorbed or crushed by the Lodge "Grand Orient," with Philippe +Egalite, Duc de Chartres, as their grand master, and as his +representative, the hero of the diamond necklace, and disciple of Count +Cagliostro--Louis, Prince de Rohan. + +But if Freemasonry, among the frivolous and sensual French noblesse, +became utterly frivolous and sensual itself, it took a deeper, though a +questionably fantastic form, among the more serious and earnest German +nobility. Forgetful as they too often were of their duty to their +peoples--tyrannical, extravagant, debauched by French opinions, French +fashions, French luxuries, till they had begun to despise their native +speech, their native literature, almost their native land, and to hide +their native homeliness under a clumsy varnish of French outside +civilisation, which the years 1807-13 rubbed off them again with a brush +of iron--they were yet Germans at heart; and that German instinct for the +unseen--call it enthusiasm, mysticism, what you will, you cannot make it +anything but a human fact, and a most powerful, and (as I hold) most +blessed fact--that instinct for the unseen, I say, which gives peculiar +value to German philosophy, poetry, art, religion, and above all to +German family life, and which is just the complement needed to prevent +our English common-sense, matter-of-fact Lockism from degenerating into +materialism--that was only lying hidden, but not dead, in the German +spirit. + +With the Germans, therefore, Freemasonry assumed a nobler and more +earnest shape. Dropping, very soon, that Lockite and _Philosophe_ tone +which had perhaps recommended it to Frederick the Great in his youth, it +became mediaevalist and mystic. It craved after a resuscitation of old +chivalrous spirit, and the virtues of the knightly ideal, and the old +German _biederkeit und tapferkeit_, which were all defiled and overlaid +by French fopperies. And not in vain; as no struggle after a noble aim, +however confused or fantastic, is ever in vain. Freemasonry was the +direct parent of the Tugenbund, and of those secret societies which freed +Germany from Napoleon. Whatever follies young members of them may have +committed; whatever Jahn and his Turnerei; whatever the iron youths, with +their iron decorations and iron boot-heels; whatever, in a word, may have +been said or done amiss, in that childishness which (as their own wisest +writers often lament) so often defaces the noble childlikeness of the +German spirit, let it be always remembered that under the impulse first +given by Freemasonry, as much as that given by such heroes as Stein and +Scharnhorst, Germany shook off the chains which had fallen on her in her +sleep; and stood once more at Leipsic, were it but for a moment, a free +people alike in body and in soul. + +Remembering this, and the solid benefits which Germany owed to Masonic +influences, one shrinks from saying much of the extravagances in which +its Masonry indulged before the French Revolution. Yet they are so +characteristic of the age, so significant to the student of human nature, +that they must be hinted at, though not detailed. + +It is clear that Masonry was at first a movement confined to the +aristocracy, or at least to the most educated classes; and clear, too, +that it fell in with a temper of mind unsatisfied with the dry dogmatism +into which the popular creeds had then been frozen--unsatisfied with +their own Frenchified foppery and pseudo-philosophy--unsatisfied with +want of all duty, purpose, noble thought, or noble work. With such a +temper of mind it fell in: but that very temper was open (as it always +is) to those dreams of a royal road to wisdom and to virtue, which have +haunted, in all ages, the luxurious and the idle. + +Those who will, may read enough, and too much, of the wonderful secrets +in nature and science and theosophy, which men expected to find and did +not find in the higher degrees of Masonry, till old Voss--the translator +of Homer--had to confess, that after "trying for eleven years to attain a +perfect knowledge of the inmost penetralia, where the secret is said to +be, and of its invisible guardians," all he knew was that "the documents +which he had to make known to the initiated were nothing more than a well +got-up farce." + +But the mania was general. The high-born and the virtuous expected to +discover some panacea for their own consciences in what Voss calls, "A +multitude of symbols, which are ever increasing the farther you +penetrate, and are made to have a moral application through some +arbitrary twisting of their meaning, as if I were to attempt expounding +the chaos on my writing-desk." + +A rich harvest-field was an aristocracy in such a humour, for quacks of +every kind; richer even than that of France, in that the Germans were at +once more honest and more earnest, and therefore to be robbed more +easily. The carcass was there: and the birds of prey were gathered +together. + +Of Rosa, with his lodge of the Three Hammers, and his Potsdam +gold-making;--of Johnson, alias Leuchte, who passed himself off as a +Grand Prior sent from Scotland to resuscitate the order of Knights +Templars; who informed his disciples that the Grand Master Von Hund +commanded 26,000 men; that round the convent (what convent, does not +appear) a high wall was erected, which was guarded day and night; that +the English navy was in the hands of the Order; that they had MSS. +written by Hugo de Paganis (a mythic hero who often figures in these +fables); that their treasure was in only three places in the world, in +Ballenstadt, in the icy mountains of Savoy, and in China; that whosoever +drew on himself the displeasure of the Order, perished both body and +soul; who degraded his rival Rosa to the sound of military music, and +after having had, like every dog, his day, died in prison in the +Wartburg;--of the Rosicrucians, who were accused of wanting to support +and advance the Catholic religion--one would think the accusation was +very unnecessary, seeing that their actual dealings were with the +philosopher's stone, and the exorcism of spirits: and that the first +apostle of the new golden Rosicrucian order, one Schropfer, getting into +debt, and fearing exposure, finished his life in an altogether +un-catholic manner at Leipsic in 1774, by shooting himself;--of Keller +and his Urim and Thummim;--of Wollner (who caught the Crown Prince +Frederick William) with his three names of Chrysophiron, Heliconus, and +Ophiron, and his fourth name of Ormesus Magnus, under which all the +brethren were to offer up for him solemn prayers and intercessions;--of +Baron Heinrich von Ekker and Eckenhofen, gentleman of the bed-chamber and +counsellor of the Duke of Coburg Saalfeld, and his Jewish colleague +Hirschmann, with their Asiatic brethren and order named Ben Bicca, +Cabalistic and Talmudic; of the Illuminati, and poor Adam Weisshaupt, +Professor of Canon and National Law at Ingoldstadt in Bavaria, who set up +what he considered an Anti-Jesuitical order on a Jesuit model, with some +vague hope, according to his own showing, of "perfecting the reasoning +powers interesting to mankind, spreading the knowledge of sentiments both +humane and social, checking wicked inclinations, standing up for +oppressed and suffering virtue against all wrong, promoting the +advancement of men of merit, and in every way facilitating the +acquirement of knowledge and science;"--of this honest silly man, and his +attempts to carry out all his fine projects by calling himself Spartacus, +Bavaria Achaia, Austria Egypt, Vienna Rome, and so forth;--of Knigge, who +picked his honest brains, quarrelled with him, and then made money and +fame out of his plans, for as long as they lasted;--of Bode, the knight +of the lilies of the valley, who, having caught Duke Ernest of Saxe +Gotha, was himself caught by Knigge, and his eight, nine, or more +ascending orders of unwisdom;--and finally of the Jesuits who, really +with considerable excuses for their severity, fell upon these poor +foolish Illuminati in 1784 throughout Bavaria, and had them exiled or +imprisoned;--of all this you may read in the pages of Dr. Findel, and in +many another book. For, forgotten as they are now, they made noise +enough in their time. + +And so it befell, that this eighteenth century, which is usually held to +be the most "materialistic" of epochs, was, in fact, a most +"spiritualistic" one; in which ghosts, demons, quacks, philosophers' +stones, enchanters' wands, mysteries and mummeries, were as +fashionable--as they will probably be again some day. + +You have all heard of Cagliostro--"pupil of the sage Althotas, foster- +child of the Scheriff of Mecca, probable son of the last king of +Trebizond; named also Acharat, and 'Unfortunate child of Nature;' by +profession healer of diseases, abolisher of wrinkles, friend of the poor +and impotent; grand-master of the Egyptian Mason-lodge of High Science, +spirit-summoner, gold-cook, Grand-Cophta, prophet, priest, Thaumaturgic +moralist, and swindler"--born Giuseppe Balsamo of Palermo;--of him, and +of his lovely Countess Seraphina--nee Lorenza Feliciani? You have read +what Goethe--and still more important, what Mr. Carlyle has written on +him, as on one of the most significant personages of the age? Remember, +then, that Cagliostro was no isolated phenomenon; that his success--nay, +his having even conceived the possibility of success in the brain that +lay within that "brass-faced, bull-necked, thick-lipped" head--was made +possible by public opinion. Had Cagliostro lived in our time, public +opinion would have pointed out to him other roads to honour--on which he +would doubtless have fared as well. For when the silly dace try to be +caught and hope to be caught, he is a foolish pike who cannot gorge them. +But the method most easy for a pike-nature like Cagliostro's, was in the +eighteenth century, as it may be in the latter half of the nineteenth, to +trade, in a materialist age, on the unsatisfied spiritual cravings of +mankind. For what do all these phantasms betoken, but a generation +ashamed of its own materialism, sensuality, insincerity, ignorance, and +striving to escape therefrom by any and every mad superstition which +seemed likely to give an answer to the awful questions--What are we, and +where? and to lay to rest those instincts of the unseen and infinite +around it, which tormented it like ghosts by day and night: a sight +ludicrous or pathetic, according as it is looked on by a cynical or a +human spirit. + +It is easy to call such a phenomenon absurd, improbable. It is rather +rational, probable, say certain to happen. Rational, I say; for the +reason of man tells him, and has always told him, that he is a +supernatural being, if by nature is meant that which is cognisable by his +five senses: that his coming into this world, his relation to it, his +exit from it--which are the three most important facts about him--are +supernatural, not to be explained by any deductions from the impressions +of his senses. And I make bold to say, that the recent discoveries of +physical science--notably those of embryology--go only to justify that +old and general belief of man. If man be told that the microscope and +scalpel show no difference, in the first stage of visible existence, +between him and the lower mammals, then he has a right to answer--as he +will answer--So much the worse for the microscope and scalpel: so much +the better for my old belief, that there is beneath my birth, life, +death, a substratum of supernatural causes, imponderable, invisible, +unknowable by any physical science whatsoever. If you cannot render me a +reason how I came hither, and what I am, I must go to those who will +render me one. And if that craving be not satisfied by a rational theory +of life, it will demand satisfaction from some magical theory; as did the +mind of the eighteenth century when, revolting from materialism, it fled +to magic, to explain the ever-astounding miracle of life. + +The old Regime. Will our age, in its turn, ever be spoken of as an old +Regime? Will it ever be spoken of as a Regime at all; as an organised, +orderly system of society and polity; and not merely as a chaos, an +anarchy, a transitory struggle, of which the money-lender has been the +real guide and lord? + +But at least it will be spoken of as an age of progress, of rapid +developments, of astonishing discoveries. + +Are you so sure of that? There was an age of progress once. But what is +our age--what is all which has befallen since 1815--save after-swells of +that great storm, which are weakening and lulling into heavy calm? Are +we on the eve of stagnation? Of a long check to the human intellect? Of +a new Byzantine era, in which little men will discuss, and ape, the deeds +which great men did in their forefathers' days? + +What progress--it is a question which some will receive with almost angry +surprise--what progress has the human mind made since 1815? + +If the thought be startling, do me the great honour of taking it home, +and verifying for yourselves its truth or its falsehood. I do not say +that it is altogether true. No proposition concerning human things, +stated so broadly, can be. But see for yourselves, whether it is not at +least more true than false; whether the ideas, the discoveries, of which +we boast most in the nineteenth century, are not really due to the end of +the eighteenth. Whether other men did not labour, and we have only +entered into their labours. Whether our positivist spirit, our content +with the collecting of facts, our dread of vast theories, is not a +symptom--wholesome, prudent, modest, but still a symptom--of our +consciousness that we are not as our grandfathers were; that we can no +longer conceive great ideas, which illumine, for good or evil, the whole +mind and heart of man, and drive him on to dare and suffer desperately. + +Railroads? Electric telegraphs? All honour to them in their place: but +they are not progress; they are only the fruits of past progress. No +outward and material thing is progress; no machinery causes progress; it +merely spreads and makes popular the results of progress. Progress is +inward, of the soul. And, therefore, improved constitutions, and +improved book instruction--now miscalled education--are not progress: +they are at best only fruits and signs thereof. For they are outward, +material; and progress, I say, is inward. The self-help and +self-determination of the independent soul--that is the root of progress; +and the more human beings who have that, the more progress there is in +the world. Give me a man who, though he can neither read nor write, yet +dares think for himself, and do the thing he believes: that man will help +forward the human race more than any thousand men who have read, or +written either, a thousand books apiece, but have not dared to think for +themselves. And better for his race, and better, I believe, in the sight +of God, the confusions and mistakes of that one sincere brave man, than +the second-hand and cowardly correctness of all the thousand. + +As for the "triumphs of science," let us honour, with astonishment and +awe, the genius of those who invented them; but let us remember that the +things themselves are as a gun or a sword, with which we can kill our +enemy, but with which also our enemy can kill us. Like all outward and +material things, they are equally fit for good and for evil. In England +here--they have been as yet, as far as I can see, nothing but blessings: +but I have my very serious doubts whether they are likely to be blessings +to the whole human race, for many an age to come. I can conceive +them--may God avert the omen!--the instruments of a more crushing +executive centralisation, of a more utter oppression of the bodies and +souls of men, than the world has yet seen. I can conceive--may God avert +the omen!--centuries hence, some future world-ruler sitting at the +junction of all railroads, at the centre of all telegraph-wires--a world- +spider in the omphalos of his world-wide web; and smiting from thence +everything that dared to lift its head, or utter a cry of pain, with a +swiftness and surety to which the craft of a Justinian or a Philip II. +were but clumsy and impotent. + +All, all outward things, be sure of it, are good or evil, exactly as far +as they are in the hands of good men or of bad. + +Moreover, paradoxical as it may seem, railroads and telegraphs, instead +of inaugurating an era of progress, may possibly only retard it. "Rester +sur un grand succes," which was Rossini's advice to a young singer who +had achieved a triumph, is a maxim which the world often follows, not +only from prudence, but from necessity. They have done so much that it +seems neither prudent nor possible to do more. They will rest and be +thankful. + +Thus, gunpowder and printing made rapid changes enough; but those changes +had no farther development. The new art of war, the new art of +literature, remained stationary, or rather receded and degenerated, till +the end of the eighteenth century. + +And so it may be with our means of locomotion and intercommunion, and +what depends on them. The vast and unprecedented amount of capital, of +social interest, of actual human intellect invested--I may say locked +up--in these railroads, and telegraphs, and other triumphs of industry +and science, will not enter into competition against themselves. They +will not set themselves free to seek new discoveries in directions which +are often actually opposed to their own, always foreign to it. If the +money of thousands are locked up in these great works, the brains of +hundreds of thousands, and of the very shrewdest too, are equally locked +up therein likewise; and are to be subtracted from the gross material of +social development, and added (without personal fault of their owners, +who may be very good men) to the dead weight of vested selfishness, +ignorance, and dislike of change. + +Yes. A Byzantine and stationary age is possible yet. Perhaps we are now +entering upon it; an age in which mankind shall be satisfied with the +"triumphs of science," and shall look merely to the greatest comfort +(call it not happiness) of the greatest number; and like the debased Jews +of old, "having found the life of their hand, be therewith content," no +matter in what mud-hole of slavery and superstition. + +But one hope there is, and more than a hope--one certainty, that however +satisfied enlightened public opinion may become with the results of +science, and the progress of the human race, there will be always a more +enlightened private opinion or opinions, which will not be satisfied +therewith at all; a few men of genius, a few children of light, it may be +a few persecuted, and a few martyrs for new truths, who will wish the +world not to rest and be thankful, but to be discontented with itself, +ashamed of itself, striving and toiling upward, without present hope of +gain, till it has reached that unknown goal which Bacon saw afar off, and +like all other heroes, died in faith, not having received the promises, +but seeking still a polity which has foundations, whose builder and maker +is God. + +These will be the men of science, whether physical or spiritual. Not +merely the men who utilise and apply that which is known (useful as they +plainly are), but the men who themselves discover that which was unknown, +and are generally deemed useless, if not hurtful, to their race. They +will keep the sacred lamp burning unobserved in quiet studies, while all +the world is gazing only at the gaslights flaring in the street. They +will pass that lamp on from hand to hand, modestly, almost stealthily, +till the day comes round again, when the obscure student shall be +discovered once more to be, as he has always been, the strongest man on +earth. For they follow a mistress whose footsteps may often slip, yet +never fall; for she walks forward on the eternal facts of Nature, which +are the acted will of God. A giantess she is; young indeed, but humble +as yet: cautious and modest beyond her years. She is accused of trying +to scale Olympus, by some who fancy that they have already scaled it +themselves, and will, of course, brook no rival in their fancied monopoly +of wisdom. + +The accusation, I believe, is unjust. And yet science may scale Olympus +after all. Without intending it, almost without knowing it, she may find +herself hereafter upon a summit of which she never dreamed; surveying the +universe of God in the light of Him who made it and her, and remakes them +both for ever and ever. On that summit she may stand hereafter, if only +she goes on, as she goes now, in humility and in patience; doing the duty +which lies nearest her; lured along the upward road, not by ambition, +vanity, or greed, but by reverent curiosity for every new pebble, and +flower, and child, and savage, around her feet. + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +{1} Mr. H. Reeve's translation of De Tocqueville's "France before the +Revolution of 1789." p. 280. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANCIEN REGIME*** + + +******* This file should be named 1335.txt or 1335.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/3/1335 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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It was therefore impossible for me in these +Lectures, to say much which had to be said, in drawing a just and +complete picture of the Ancien Regime in France. The passages +inserted between brackets, which bear on religious matters, were +accordingly not spoken at the Royal Institution. + +But more. It was impossible for me in these Lectures, to bring +forward as fully as I could have wished, the contrast between the +continental nations and England, whether now, or during the +eighteenth century. But that contrast cannot be too carefully +studied at the present moment. In proportion as it is seen and +understood, will the fear of revolution (if such exists) die out +among the wealthier classes; and the wish for it (if such exists) +among the poorer; and a large extension of the suffrage will be +looked on as--what it actually is--a safe and harmless concession to +the wishes--and, as I hold, to the just rights--of large portion of +the British nation. + +There exists in Britain now, as far as I can see, no one of those +evils which brought about the French Revolution. There is no +widespread misery, and therefore no widespread discontent, among the +classes who live by hand-labour. The legislation of the last +generation has been steadily in favour of the poor, as against the +rich; and it is even more true now than it was in 1789, that--as +Arthur Young told the French mob which stopped his carriage--the +rich pay many taxes (over and above the poor-rates, a direct tax on +the capitalist in favour of the labourer) more than are paid by the +poor. "In England" (says M. de Tocqueville of even the eighteenth +century) "the poor man enjoyed the privilege of exemption from +taxation; in France, the rich." Equality before the law is as well- +nigh complete as it can be, where some are rich and others poor; and +the only privileged class, it sometimes seems to me, is the pauper, +who has neither the responsibility of self-government, nor the toil +of self-support. + +A minority of malcontents, some justly, some unjustly, angry with +the present state of things, will always exist in this world. But a +majority of malcontents we shall never have, as long as the workmen +are allowed to keep untouched and unthreatened their rights of free +speech, free public meeting, free combination for all purposes which +do not provoke a breach of the peace. There may be (and probably +are) to be found in London and the large towns, some of those +revolutionary propagandists who have terrified and tormented +continental statesmen since the year 1815. But they are far fewer +in number than in 1848; far fewer still (I believe) than in 1831; +and their habits, notions, temper, whole mental organisation, is so +utterly alien to that of the average Englishman, that it is only the +sense of wrong which can make him take counsel with them, or make +common cause with them. Meanwhile, every man who is admitted to a +vote, is one more person withdrawn from the temptation to +disloyalty, and enlisted in maintaining the powers that be--when +they are in the wrong, as well as when they are in the right. For +every Englishman is by his nature conservative; slow to form an +opinion; cautious in putting it into effect; patient under evils +which seem irremediable; persevering in abolishing such as seem +remediable; and then only too ready to acquiesce in the earliest +practical result; to "rest and be thankful." His faults, as well as +his virtues, make him anti-revolutionary. He is generally too dull +to take in a great idea; and if he does take it in, often too +selfish to apply it to any interest save his own. But now and then, +when the sense of actual injury forces upon him a great idea, like +that of Free-trade or of Parliamentary Reform, he is indomitable, +however slow and patient, in translating his thought into fact: and +they will not be wise statesmen who resist his dogged determination. +If at this moment he demands an extension of the suffrage eagerly +and even violently, the wise statesman will give at once, gracefully +and generously, what the Englishman will certainly obtain one day, +if he has set his mind upon it. If, on the other hand, he asks for +it calmly, then the wise statesman (instead of mistaking English +reticence for apathy) will listen to his wishes all the more +readily; seeing in the moderation of the demand, the best possible +guarantee for moderation in the use of the thing demanded. + +And, be it always remembered, that in introducing these men into the +"balance of the Constitution," we introduce no unknown quantity. +Statesmen ought to know them, if they know themselves; to judge what +the working man would do by what they do themselves. He who imputes +virtues to his own class imputes them also to the labouring class. +He who imputes vices to the labouring class, imputes them to his own +class. For both are not only of the same flesh and blood, but, what +is infinitely more important, of the same spirit; of the same race; +in innumerable cases, of the same ancestors. For centuries past the +most able of these men have been working upwards into the middle +class, and through it, often, to the highest dignities, and the +highest family connections; and the whole nation knows how they have +comported themselves therein. And, by a reverse process (of which +the physiognomist and genealogist can give abundant proof), the +weaker members of that class which was dominant during the Middle +Age have been sinking downward, often to the rank of mere day- +labourers, and carrying downward with them--sometimes in a very +tragical and pathetic fashion--somewhat of the dignity and the +refinement which they had learnt from their ancestors. + +Thus has the English nation (and as far as I can see, the Scotch +likewise) become more homogeneous than any nation of the Continent, +if we except France since the extermination of the Frankish +nobility. And for that very reason, as it seems to me, it is more +fitted than any other European nation for the exercise of equal +political rights; and not to be debarred of them by arguments drawn +from countries which have been governed--as England has not been--by +a caste. + +The civilisation, not of mere book-learning, but of the heart; all +that was once meant by "manners"--good breeding, high feeling, +respect for self and respect for others--are just as common (as far +as I have seen) among the hand-workers of England and Scotland, as +among any other class; the only difference is, that these qualities +develop more early in the richer classes, owing to that severe +discipline of our public schools, which makes mere lads often fit to +govern, because they have learnt to obey: while they develop later- +-generally not till middle age--in the classes who have not gone +through in their youth that Spartan training, and who indeed (from a +mistaken conception of liberty) would not endure it for a day. This +and other social drawbacks which are but too patent, retard the +manhood of the working classes. That it should be so, is a wrong. +For if a citizen have one right above all others to demand anything +of his country, it is that he should be educated; that whatever +capabilities he may have in him, however small, should have their +fair and full chance of development. But the cause of the wrong is +not the existence of a caste, or a privileged class, or of anything +save the plain fact, that some men will be always able to pay more +for their children's education than others; and that those children +will, inevitably, win in the struggle of life. + +Meanwhile, in this fact is to be found the most weighty, if not the +only argument against manhood suffrage, which would admit many--but +too many, alas!--who are still mere boys in mind. To a reasonable +household suffrage it cannot apply. The man who (being almost +certainly married, and having children) can afford to rent a 5 pound +tenement in a town, or in the country either, has seen quite enough +of life, and learnt quite enough of it, to form a very fair judgment +of the man who offers to represent him in Parliament; because he has +learnt, not merely something of his own interest, or that of his +class, but--what is infinitely more important--the difference +between the pretender and the honest man. + +The causes of this state of society, which is peculiar to Britain, +must be sought far back in the ages. It would seem that the +distinction between "earl and churl" (the noble and the non-noble +freeman) was crushed out in this island by the two Norman conquests- +-that of the Anglo-Saxon nobility by Sweyn and Canute; and that of +the Anglo-Danish nobility by William and his Frenchmen. Those two +terrible calamities, following each other in the short space of +fifty years, seem to have welded together, by a community of +suffering, all ranks and races, at least south of the Tweed; and +when the English rose after the storm, they rose as one homogeneous +people, never to be governed again by an originally alien race. The +English nobility were, from the time of Magna Charta, rather an +official nobility, than, as in most continental countries, a +separate caste; and whatever caste tendencies had developed +themselves before the Wars of the Roses (as such are certain to do +during centuries of continued wealth and power), were crushed out by +the great revolutionary events of the next hundred years. +Especially did the discovery of the New World, the maritime struggle +with Spain, the outburst of commerce and colonisation during the +reigns of Elizabeth and James, help toward this good result. It was +in vain for the Lord Oxford of the day, sneering at Raleigh's sudden +elevation, to complain that as on the virginals, so in the State, +"Jacks went up, and heads went down." The proudest noblemen were +not ashamed to have their ventures on the high seas, and to send +their younger sons trading, or buccaneering, under the conduct of +low-born men like Drake, who "would like to see the gentleman that +would not set his hand to a rope, and hale and draw with the +mariners." Thus sprang up that respect for, even fondness for, +severe bodily labour, which the educated class of no nation save our +own has ever felt; and which has stood them in such good stead, +whether at home or abroad. Thus, too, sprang up the system of +society by which (as the ballad sets forth) the squire's son might +be a "'prentice good," and marry + + +"The bailiff's daughter dear +That dwelt at Islington," + + +without tarnishing, as he would have done on the Continent, the +scutcheon of his ancestors. That which has saved England from a +central despotism, such as crushed, during the eighteenth century, +every nation on the Continent, is the very same peculiarity which +makes the advent of the masses to a share in political power safe +and harmless; namely, the absence of caste, or rather (for there is +sure to be a moral fact underlying and causing every political fact) +the absence of that wicked pride which perpetuates caste; forbidding +those to intermarry whom nature and fact pronounce to be fit mates +before God and man. + +These views are not mine only. They have been already set forth so +much more forcibly by M. de Tocqueville, that I should have thought +it unnecessary to talk about them, were not the rhetorical phrases, +"Caste," "Privileged Classes," "Aristocratic Exclusiveness," and +such-like, bandied about again just now, as if they represented +facts. If there remain in this kingdom any facts which correspond +to those words, let them be abolished as speedily as possible: but +that such do remain was not the opinion of the master of modern +political philosophy, M. de Tocqueville. + +He expresses his surprise "that the fact which distinguishes England +from all other modern nations, and which alone can throw light on +her peculiarities, . . . has not attracted more attention, . . . and +that habit has rendered it, as it were, imperceptible to the English +themselves--that England was the only country in which the system of +caste had been not only modified, but effectually destroyed. The +nobility and the middle classes followed the same business, embraced +the same professions, and, what is far more significant, +intermarried with each other. The daughter of the greatest +nobleman" (and this, if true of the eighteenth century, has become +far more true of the nineteenth) "could already, without disgrace, +marry a man of yesterday." . . . + +"It has often been remarked that the English nobility has been more +prudent, more able, and less exclusive than any other. It would +have been much nearer the truth to say, that in England, for a very +long time past, no nobility, properly so called, have existed, if we +take the word in the ancient and limited sense it has everywhere +else retained." . . . + +"For several centuries the word 'gentleman'" (he might have added, +"burgess") "has altogether changed its meaning in England; and the +word 'roturier' has ceased to exist. In each succeeding century it +is applied to persons placed somewhat lower in the social scale" (as +the "bagman" of Pickwick has become, and has deserved to become, the +"commercial gentleman" of our day). "At length it travelled with +the English to America, where it is used to designate every citizen +indiscriminately. Its history is that of democracy itself." . . . + +"If the middle classes of England, instead of making war upon the +aristocracy, have remained so intimately connected with it, it is +not especially because the aristocracy is open to all, but rather, +because its outline was indistinct, and its limit unknown: not so +much because any man might be admitted into it, as because it was +impossible to say with certainty when he took rank there: so that +all who approached it might look on themselves as belonging to it; +might take part in its rule, and derive either lustre or profit from +its influence." + +Just so; and therefore the middle classes of Britain, of whatever +their special political party, are conservative in the best sense of +that word. + +For there are not three, but only two, classes in England; namely, +rich and poor: those who live by capital (from the wealthiest +landlord to the smallest village shopkeeper); and those who live by +hand-labour. Whether the division between those two classes is +increasing or not, is a very serious question. Continued +legislation in favour of the hand-labourer, and a beneficence +towards him, when in need, such as no other nation on earth has ever +shown, have done much to abolish the moral division. But the social +division has surely been increased during the last half century, by +the inevitable tendency, both in commerce and agriculture, to employ +one large capital, where several small ones would have been employed +a century ago. The large manufactory, the large shop, the large +estate, the large farm, swallows up the small ones. The yeoman, the +thrifty squatter who could work at two or three trades as well as +till his patch of moor, the hand-loom weaver, the skilled village +craftsman, have all but disappeared. The handworker, finding it +more and more difficult to invest his savings, has been more and +more tempted to squander them. To rise to the dignity of a +capitalist, however small, was growing impossible to him, till the +rise of that co-operative movement, which will do more than any +social or political impulse in our day for the safety of English +society, and the loyalty of the English working classes. And +meanwhile--ere that movement shall have spread throughout the length +and breadth of the land, and have been applied, as it surely will be +some day, not only to distribution, not only to manufacture, but to +agriculture likewise--till then, the best judges of the working +men's worth must be their employers; and especially the employers of +the northern manufacturing population. What their judgment is, is +sufficiently notorious. Those who depend most on the working men, +who have the best opportunities of knowing them, trust them most +thoroughly. As long as great manufacturers stand forward as the +political sponsors of their own workmen, it behoves those who cannot +have had their experience, to consider their opinion as conclusive. +As for that "influence of the higher classes" which is said to be +endangered just now; it will exist, just as much as it deserves to +exist. Any man who is superior to the many, whether in talents, +education, refinement, wealth, or anything else, will always be able +to influence a number of men--and if he thinks it worth his while, +of votes--by just and lawful means. And as for unjust and unlawful +means, let those who prefer them keep up heart. The world will go +on much as it did before; and be always quite bad enough to allow +bribery and corruption, jobbery and nepotism, quackery and +arrogance, their full influence over our home and foreign policy. +An extension of the suffrage, however wide, will not bring about the +millennium. It will merely make a large number of Englishmen +contented and loyal, instead of discontented and disloyal. It may +make, too, the educated and wealthy classes wiser by awakening a +wholesome fear--perhaps, it may be, by awakening a chivalrous +emulation. It may put the younger men of the present aristocracy +upon their mettle, and stir them up to prove that they are not in +the same effete condition as was the French noblesse in 1789. It +may lead them to take the warnings which have been addressed to +them, for the last thirty years, by their truest friends--often by +kinsmen of their own. It may lead them to ask themselves why, in a +world which is governed by a just God, such great power as is +palpably theirs at present is entrusted to them, save that they may +do more work, and not less, than other men, under the penalties +pronounced against those to whom much is given, and of whom much is +required. It may lead them to discover that they are in a world +where it is not safe to sit under the tree, and let the ripe fruit +drop into your mouth; where the "competition of species" works with +ruthless energy among all ranks of being, from kings upon their +thrones to the weeds upon the waste; where "he that is not hammer, +is sure to be anvil;" and he who will not work, neither shall he +eat. It may lead them to devote that energy (in which they surpass +so far the continental aristocracies) to something better than +outdoor amusements or indoor dilettantisms. There are those among +them who, like one section of the old French noblesse, content +themselves with mere complaints of "the revolutionary tendencies of +the age." Let them beware in time; for when the many are on the +march, the few who stand still are certain to be walked over. There +are those among them who, like another section of the French +noblesse, are ready, more generously than wisely, to throw away +their own social and political advantages, and play (for it will +never be really more than playing) at democracy. Let them, too, +beware. The penknife and the axe should respect each other; for +they were wrought from the same steel: but the penknife will not be +wise in trying to fell trees. Let them accept their own position, +not in conceit and arrogance, but in fear and trembling; and see if +they cannot play the man therein, and save their own class; and with +it, much which it has needed many centuries to accumulate and to +organise, and without which no nation has yet existed for a single +century. They are no more like the old French noblesse, than are +the commercial class like the old French bourgeoisie, or the +labouring like the old French peasantry. Let them prove that fact +by their deeds during the next generation; or sink into the +condition of mere rich men, exciting, by their luxury and laziness, +nothing but envy and contempt. + +Meanwhile, behind all classes and social forces--I had almost said, +above them all--stands a fourth estate, which will, ultimately, +decide the form which English society is to take: a Press as +different from the literary class of the Ancien Regime as is +everything else English; and different in this--that it is free. + +The French Revolution, like every revolution (it seems to me) which +has convulsed the nations of Europe for the last eighty years, was +caused immediately--whatever may have been its more remote causes-- +by the suppression of thought; or, at least, by a sense of wrong +among those who thought. A country where every man, be he fool or +wise, is free to speak that which is in him, can never suffer a +revolution. The folly blows itself off like steam, in harmless +noise; the wisdom becomes part of the general intellectual stock of +the nation, and prepares men for gradual, and therefore for +harmless, change. + +As long as the press is free, a nation is guaranteed against sudden +and capricious folly, either from above or from below. As long as +the press is free, a nation is guaranteed against the worse evil of +persistent and obstinate folly, cloaking itself under the venerable +shapes of tradition and authority. For under a free press, a nation +must ultimately be guided not by a caste, not by a class, not by +mere wealth, not by the passions of a mob: but by mind; by the net +result of all the common-sense of its members; and in the present +default of genius, which is un-common sense, common-sense seems to +be the only, if not the best, safeguard for poor humanity. + +1867 + + + +LECTURE I--CASTE + + + +[Delivered at the Royal Institution, London, 1867.] + +These Lectures are meant to be comments on the state of France +before the French Revolution. To English society, past or present, +I do not refer. For reasons which I have set forth at length in an +introductory discourse, there never was any Ancien Regime in +England. + +Therefore, when the Stuarts tried to establish in England a system +which might have led to a political condition like that of the +Continent, all classes combined and exterminated them; while the +course of English society went on as before. + +On the contrary, England was the mother of every movement which +undermined, and at last destroyed, the Ancien Regime. + +From England went forth those political theories which, transmitted +from America to France, became the principles of the French +Revolution. From England went forth the philosophy of Locke, with +all its immense results. It is noteworthy, that when Voltaire tries +to persuade people, in a certain famous passage, that philosophers +do not care to trouble the world--of the ten names to whom he does +honour, seven names are English. "It is," he says, "neither +Montaigne, nor Locke, nor Boyle, nor Spinoza, nor Hobbes, nor Lord +Shaftesbury, nor Mr. Collins, nor Mr. Toland, nor Fludd, nor Baker, +who have carried the torch of discord into their countries." It is +worth notice, that not only are the majority of these names English, +but that they belong not to the latter but to the former half of the +eighteenth century; and indeed, to the latter half of the +seventeenth. + +So it was with that Inductive Physical Science, which helped more +than all to break up the superstitions of the Ancien Regime, and to +set man face to face with the facts of the universe. From England, +towards the end of the seventeenth century, it was promulgated by +such men as Newton, Boyle, Sydenham, Ray, and the first founders of +our Royal Society. + +In England, too, arose the great religious movements of the +seventeenth and eighteenth centuries--and especially that of a body +which I can never mention without most deep respect--the Society of +Friends. At a time when the greater part of the Continent was sunk +in spiritual sleep, these men were reasserting doctrines concerning +man, and his relation to his Creator, which, whether or not all +believe them (as I believe them) to be founded on eternal fact, all +must confess to have been of incalculable benefit to the cause of +humanity and civilisation. + +From England, finally, about the middle of the eighteenth century, +went forth--promulgated by English noblemen--that freemasonry which +seems to have been the true parent of all the secret societies of +Europe. Of this curious question, more hereafter. But enough has +been said to show that England, instead of falling, at any period, +into the stagnation of the Ancien Regime, was, from the middle of +the seventeenth century, in a state of intellectual growth and +ferment which communicated itself finally to the continental +nations. This is the special honour of England; universally +confessed at the time. It was to England that the slowly-awakening +nations looked, as the source of all which was noble, true, and +free, in the dawning future. + +It will be seen, from what I have said, that I consider the Ancien +Regime to begin in the seventeenth century. I should date its +commencement--as far as that of anything so vague, unsystematic, +indeed anarchic, can be defined--from the end of the Thirty Years' +War, and the peace of Westphalia in 1648. + +For by that time the mighty spiritual struggles and fierce religious +animosities of the preceding century had worn themselves out. And, +as always happens, to a period of earnest excitement had succeeded +one of weariness, disgust, half-unbelief in the many questions for +which so much blood had been shed. No man had come out of the +battle with altogether clean hands; some not without changing sides +more than once. The war had ended as one, not of nations, not even +of zealots, but of mercenaries. The body of Europe had been pulled +in pieces between them all; and the poor soul thereof--as was to be +expected--had fled out through the gaping wounds. Life, mere +existence, was the most pressing need. If men could--in the old +prophet's words--find the life of their hand, they were content. +High and low only asked to be let live. The poor asked it-- +slaughtered on a hundred battle-fields, burnt out of house and home: +vast tracts of the centre of Europe were lying desert; the +population was diminished for several generations. The trading +classes, ruined by the long war, only asked to be let live, and make +a little money. The nobility, too, only asked to be let live. They +had lost, in the long struggle, not only often lands and power, but +their ablest and bravest men; and a weaker and meaner generation was +left behind, to do the governing of the world. Let them live, and +keep what they had. If signs of vigour still appeared in France, in +the wars of Louis XIV. they were feverish, factitious, temporary-- +soon, as the event proved, to droop into the general exhaustion. If +wars were still to be waged they were to be wars of succession, wars +of diplomacy; not wars of principle, waged for the mightiest +invisible interests of man. The exhaustion was general; and to it +we must attribute alike the changes and the conservatism of the +Ancien Regime. To it is owing that growth of a centralising +despotism, and of arbitrary regal power, which M. de Tocqueville has +set forth in a book which I shall have occasion often to quote. To +it is owing, too, that longing, which seems to us childish, after +ancient forms, etiquettes, dignities, court costumes, formalities +diplomatic, legal, ecclesiastical. Men clung to them as to +keepsakes of the past--revered relics of more intelligible and +better-ordered times. If the spirit had been beaten out of them in +a century of battle, that was all the more reason for keeping up the +letter. They had had a meaning once, a life once; perhaps there was +a little life left in them still; perhaps the dry bones would clothe +themselves with flesh once more, and stand upon their feet. At +least it was useful that the common people should so believe. There +was good hope that the simple masses, seeing the old dignities and +formalities still parading the streets, should suppose that they +still contained men, and were not mere wooden figures, dressed +artistically in official costume. And, on the whole, that hope was +not deceived. More than a century of bitter experience was needed +ere the masses discovered that their ancient rulers were like the +suits of armour in the Tower of London--empty iron astride of wooden +steeds, and armed with lances which every ploughboy could wrest out +of their hands, and use in his own behalf. + +The mistake of the masses was pardonable. For those suits of armour +had once held living men; strong, brave, wise; men of an admirable +temper; doing their work according to their light, not altogether +well--what man does that on earth?--but well enough to make +themselves necessary to, and loyally followed by, the masses whom +they ruled. No one can read fairly the "Gesta Dei per Francos in +Oriente," or the deeds of the French Nobility in their wars with +England, or those tales--however legendary--of the mediaeval +knights, which form so noble an element in German literature, +without seeing, that however black were these men's occasional +crimes, they were a truly noble race, the old Nobility of the +Continent; a race which ruled simply because, without them, there +would have been naught but anarchy and barbarism. To their +chivalrous ideal they were too often, perhaps for the most part, +untrue: but, partial and defective as it is, it is an ideal such as +never entered into the mind of Celt or Gaul, Hun or Sclav; one which +seems continuous with the spread of the Teutonic conquerors. They +ruled because they did practically raise the ideal of humanity in +the countries which they conquered, a whole stage higher. They +ceased to rule when they were, through their own sins, caught up and +surpassed in the race of progress by the classes below them. + +But, even when at its best, their system of government had in it-- +like all human invention--original sin; an unnatural and unrighteous +element, which was certain, sooner or later, to produce decay and +ruin. The old Nobility of Europe was not a mere aristocracy. It +was a caste: a race not intermarrying with the races below it. It +was not a mere aristocracy. For that, for the supremacy of the best +men, all societies strive, or profess to strive. And such a true +aristocracy may exist independent of caste, or the hereditary +principle at all. We may conceive an Utopia, governed by an +aristocracy which should be really democratic; which should use, +under developed forms, that method which made the mediaeval +priesthood the one great democratic institution of old Christendom; +bringing to the surface and utilising the talents and virtues of all +classes, even to the lowest. We may conceive an aristocracy +choosing out, and gladly receiving into its own ranks as equals, +every youth, every maiden, who was distinguished by intellect, +virtue, valour, beauty, without respect to rank or birth; and +rejecting in turn, from its own ranks, each of its own children who +fell below some lofty standard, and showed by weakliness, dulness, +or baseness, incapacity for the post of guiding and elevating their +fellow-citizens. Thus would arise a true aristocracy; a governing +body of the really most worthy--the most highly organised in body +and in mind--perpetually recruited from below: from which, or from +any other ideal, we are yet a few thousand years distant. + +But the old Ancien Regime would have shuddered, did shudder, at such +a notion. The supreme class was to keep itself pure, and avoid all +taint of darker blood, shutting its eyes to the fact that some of +its most famous heroes had been born of such left-handed marriages +as that of Robert of Normandy with the tanner's daughter of Falaise. +"Some are so curious in this behalf," says quaint old Burton, +writing about 1650, "as these old Romans, our modern Venetians, +Dutch, and French, that if two parties dearly love, the one noble, +the other ignoble, they may not, by their laws, match, though equal +otherwise in years, fortunes, education, and all good affection. In +Germany, except they can prove their gentility by three descents, +they scorn to match with them. A nobleman must marry a noblewoman; +a baron, a baron's daughter; a knight, a knight's. As slaters sort +their slates, do they degrees and families." + +And doubtless this theory--like all which have held their ground for +many centuries--at first represented a fact. These castes were, at +first, actually superior to the peoples over whom they ruled. I +cannot, as long as my eyes are open, yield to the modern theory of +the equality--indeed of the non-existence--of races. Holding, as I +do, the primaeval unity of the human race, I see in that race the +same inclination to sport into fresh varieties, the same competition +of species between those varieties, which Mr. Darwin has pointed out +among plants and mere animals. A distinguished man arises; from him +a distinguished family; from it a distinguished tribe, stronger, +cunninger than those around. It asserts its supremacy over its +neighbours at first exactly as a plant or animal would do, by +destroying, and, where possible, eating them; next, having grown +more prudent, by enslaving them; next, having gained a little +morality in addition to its prudence, by civilising them, raising +them more or less toward its own standard. And thus, in every land, +civilisation and national life has arisen out of the patriarchal +state; and the Eastern scheik, with his wives, free and slave, and +his hundreds of fighting men born in his house, is the type of all +primaeval rulers. He is the best man of his horde--in every sense +of the word best; and whether he have a right to rule them or not, +they consider that he has, and are the better men for his guidance. + +Whether this ought to have been the history of primaeval +civilisation, is a question not to be determined here. That it is +the history thereof, is surely patent to anyone who will imagine to +himself what must have been. In the first place, the strongest and +cunningest savage must have had the chance of producing children +more strong and cunning than the average; he would have--the +strongest savage has still--the power of obtaining a wife, or wives, +superior in beauty and in household skill, which involves +superiority of intellect; and therefore his children would--some of +them at least--be superior to the average, both from the father's +and the mother's capacities. They again would marry select wives; +and their children again would do the same; till, in a very few +generations, a family would have established itself, considerably +superior to the rest of the tribe in body and mind, and become +assuredly its ruling race. + +Again, if one of that race invented a new weapon, a new mode of +tillage, or aught else which gave him power, that would add to the +superiority of his whole family. For the invention would be +jealously kept among them as a mystery, a hereditary secret. To +this simple cause, surely, is to be referred the system of +hereditary caste occupations, whether in Egypt or Hindoostan. To +this, too, the fact that alike in Greek and in Teutonic legend the +chief so often appears, not merely as the best warrior and best +minstrel, but as the best smith, armourer, and handicraftsman of his +tribe. If, however, the inventor happened to be a low-born genius, +its advantages would still accrue to the ruling race. For nothing +could be more natural or more easy--as more than one legend +intimates--than that the king should extort the new secret from his +subject, and then put him to death to prevent any further publicity. + +Two great inventive geniuses we may see dimly through the abysses of +the past, both of whom must have become in their time great chiefs, +founders of mighty aristocracies--it may be, worshipped after their +death as gods. + +The first, who seems to have existed after the age in which the +black race colonised Australia, must have been surely a man worthy +to hold rank with our Brindleys, Watts, and Stephensons. For he +invented (and mind, one man must have invented the thing first, and +by the very nature of it, invented it all at once) an instrument so +singular, unexpected, unlike anything to be seen in nature, that I +wonder it has not been called, like the plough, the olive, or the +vine, a gift of the immortal gods: and yet an instrument so simple, +so easy, and so perfect, that it spread over all races in Europe and +America, and no substitute could be found for it till the latter +part of the fifteenth century. Yes, a great genius was he, and the +consequent founder of a great aristocracy and conquering race, who +first invented for himself and his children after him a--bow and +arrow. + +The next--whether before or after the first in time, it suits me to +speak of him in second place--was the man who was the potential +ancestor of the whole Ritterschaft, Chivalry, and knightly caste of +Europe; the man who first, finding a foal upon the steppe, deserted +by its dam, brought it home, and reared it; and then bethought him +of the happy notion of making it draw--presumably by its tail--a +fashion which endured long in Ireland, and had to be forbidden by +law, I think as late as the sixteenth century. A great aristocrat +must that man have become. A greater still he who first substituted +the bit for the halter. A greater still he who first thought of +wheels. A greater still he who conceived the yoke and pole for +bearing up his chariot; for that same yoke, and pole, and chariot, +became the peculiar instrument of conquerors like him who mightily +oppressed the children of Israel, for he had nine hundred chariots +of iron. Egyptians, Syrians, Assyrians, Greeks, Romans--none of +them improved on the form of the conquering biga, till it was given +up by a race who preferred a pair of shafts to their carts, and who +had learnt to ride instead of drive. A great aristocrat, again, +must he have been among those latter races who first conceived the +notion of getting on his horse's back, accommodating his motions to +the beast's, and becoming a centaur, half-man, half-horse. That +invention must have tended, in the first instance, as surely toward +democracy as did the invention of firearms. A tribe of riders must +have been always, more or less, equal and free. Equal because a man +on a horse would feel himself a man indeed; because the art of +riding called out an independence, a self-help, a skill, a +consciousness of power, a personal pride and vanity, which would +defy slavery. Free, because a tribe of riders might be defeated, +exterminated, but never enchained. They could never become gleboe +adscripti, bound to the soil, as long as they could take horse and +saddle, and away. History gives us more than one glimpse of such +tribes--the scourge and terror of the non-riding races with whom +they came in contact. Some, doubtless, remember how in the wars +between Alfred and the Danes, "the army" (the Scandinavian invaders) +again and again horse themselves, steal away by night from the Saxon +infantry, and ride over the land (whether in England or in France), +"doing unspeakable evil." To that special instinct of horsemanship, +which still distinguishes their descendants, we may attribute mainly +the Scandinavian settlement of the north and east of England. Some, +too, may recollect the sketch of the primeval Hun, as he first +appeared to the astonished and disgusted old Roman soldier Ammianus +Marcellinus; the visages "more like cakes than faces;" the "figures +like those which are hewn out with an axe on the poles at bridge- +ends;" the rat-skin coats, which they wore till they rotted off +their limbs; their steaks of meat cooked between the saddle and the +thigh; the little horses on which "they eat and drink, buy and sell, +and sleep lying forward along his narrow neck, and indulging in +every variety of dream." And over and above, and more important +politically, the common councils "held on horseback, under the +authority of no king, but content with the irregular government of +nobles, under whose leading they force their way through all +obstacles." A race--like those Cossacks who are probably their +lineal descendants--to be feared, to be hired, to be petted, but not +to be conquered. + +Instances nearer home of free equestrian races we have in our own +English borderers, among whom (as Mr. Froude says) the farmers and +their farm-servants had but to snatch their arms and spring into +their saddles and they became at once the Northern Horse, famed as +the finest light cavalry in the world. And equal to them--superior +even, if we recollect that they preserved their country's freedom +for centuries against the superior force of England--were those +troops of Scots who, century after century, swept across the border +on their little garrons, their bag of oatmeal hanging by the saddle, +with the iron griddle whereon to bake it; careless of weather and of +danger; men too swift to be exterminated, too independent to be +enslaved. + +But if horsemanship had, in these cases, a levelling tendency it +would have the very opposite when a riding tribe conquered a non- +riding one. The conquerors would, as much as possible, keep the art +and mystery of horsemanship hereditary among themselves, and become +a Ritterschaft or chivalrous caste. And they would be able to do +so: because the conquered race would not care or dare to learn the +new and dangerous art. There are persons, even in England, who can +never learn to ride. There are whole populations in Europe, even +now, when races have become almost indistinguishably mixed, who seem +unable to learn. And this must have been still more the case when +the races were more strongly separated in blood and habits. So the +Teutonic chief, with his gesitha, comites, or select band of +knights, who had received from him, as Tacitus has it, the war-horse +and the lance, established himself as the natural ruler--and +oppressor--of the non-riding populations; first over the aborigines +of Germany proper, tribes who seem to have been enslaved, and their +names lost, before the time of Tacitus; and then over the non-riding +Romans and Gauls to the South and West, and the Wendish and +Sclavonic tribes to the East. Very few in numbers, but mighty in +their unequalled capacity of body and mind, and in their terrible +horsemanship, the Teutonic Ritterschaft literally rode roughshod +over the old world; never checked, but when they came in contact +with the free-riding hordes of the Eastern steppes; and so +established an equestrian caste, of which the [Greek text] of Athens +and the Equites of Rome had been only hints ending in failure and +absorption. + +Of that equestrian caste the symbol was the horse. The favourite, +and therefore the chosen sacrifice of Odin, their ancestor and God, +the horse's flesh was eaten at the sacrificial meal; the horse's +head, hung on the ash in Odin's wood, gave forth oracular responses. +As Christianity came in, and the eating of horse-flesh was forbidden +as impiety by the Church, while his oracles dwindled down to such as +that which Falada's dead head gives to the goose-girl in the German +tale, the magic power of the horse figured only in ballads and +legends: but his real power remained. + +The art of riding became an hereditary and exclusive science--at +last a pedantry, hampered by absurd etiquettes, and worse than +useless traditions; but the power and right to ride remained on the +whole the mark of the dominant caste. Terribly did they often abuse +that special power. The faculty of making a horse carry him no more +makes a man a good man, than the faculties of making money, making +speeches, making books, or making a noise about public abuses. And +of all ruffians, the worst, if history is to be trusted, is the +ruffian on a horse; to whose brutality of mind is superadded the +brute power of his beast. A ruffian on a horse--what is there that +he will not ride over, and ride on, careless and proud of his own +shame? When the ancient chivalry of France descended to that level, +or rather delegated their functions to mercenaries of that level-- +when the knightly hosts who fought before Jerusalem allowed +themselves to be superseded by the dragoons and dragonnades of Louis +XIV.--then the end of the French chivalry was at hand, and came. +But centuries before that shameful fall there had come in with +Christianity the new thought, that domination meant responsibility; +that responsibility demanded virtue. The words which denoted rank, +came to denote likewise high moral excellencies. The nobilis, or +man who was known, and therefore subject to public opinion, was +bound to behave nobly. The gentleman--gentile-man--who respected +his own gens, or family and pedigree, was bound to be gentle. The +courtier, who had picked up at court some touch of Roman +civilisation from Roman ecclesiastics, was bound to be courteous. +He who held an "honour" or "edel" of land was bound to be +honourable; and he who held a "weorthig," or worthy, thereof, was +bound himself to be worthy. In like wise, he who had the right to +ride a horse, was expected to be chivalrous in all matters befitting +the hereditary ruler, who owed a sacred debt to a long line of +forefathers, as well as to the state in which he dwelt; all dignity, +courtesy, purity, self-restraint, devotion--such as they were +understood in those rough days--centred themselves round the idea of +the rider as the attributes of the man whose supposed duty, as well +as his supposed right, was to govern his fellow-men, by example, as +well as by law and force;--attributes which gathered themselves up +into that one word--Chivalry: an idea, which, perfect or imperfect, +God forbid that mankind should ever forget, till it has become the +possession--as it is the God-given right--of the poorest slave that +ever trudged on foot; and every collier-lad shall have become--as +some of those Barnsley men proved but the other day they had become +already: + + +A very gentle perfect knight, + + +Very unfaithful was chivalry to its ideal--as all men are to all +ideals. But bear in mind, that if the horse was the symbol of the +ruling caste, it was not at first its only strength. Unless that +caste had had at first spiritual, as well as physical force on its +side, it would have been soon destroyed--nay, it would have +destroyed itself--by internecine civil war. And we must believe +that those Franks, Goths, Lombards, and Burgunds, who in the early +Middle Age leaped on the backs (to use Mr. Carlyle's expression) of +the Roman nations, were actually, in all senses of the word, better +men than those whom they conquered. We must believe it from reason; +for if not, how could they, numerically few, have held for a year, +much more for centuries, against millions, their dangerous +elevation? We must believe it, unless we take Tacitus's "Germania," +which I absolutely refuse to do, for a romance. We must believe +that they were better than the Romanised nations whom they +conquered, because the writers of those nations, Augustine, Salvian, +and Sidonius Apollinaris, for example, say that they were such, and +give proof thereof. Not good men according to our higher standard-- +far from it; though Sidonius's picture of Theodoric, the East Goth, +in his palace of Narbonne, is the picture of an eminently good and +wise ruler. But not good, I say, as a rule--the Franks, alas! often +very bad men: but still better, wiser, abler, than those whom they +ruled. We must believe too, that they were better, in every sense +of the word, than those tribes on their eastern frontier, whom they +conquered in after centuries, unless we discredit (which we have no +reason to do) the accounts which the Roman and Greek writers give of +the horrible savagery of those tribes. + +So it was in later centuries. One cannot read fairly the history of +the Middle Ages without seeing that the robber knight of Germany or +of France, who figures so much in modern novels, must have been the +exception, and not the rule: that an aristocracy which lived by the +saddle would have as little chance of perpetuating itself, as a +priesthood composed of hypocrites and profligates; that the +mediaeval Nobility has been as much slandered as the mediaeval +Church; and the exceptions taken--as more salient and exciting--for +the average: that side by side with ruffians like Gaston de Foix +hundreds of honest gentlemen were trying to do their duty to the +best of their light, and were raising, and not depressing, the +masses below them--one very important item in that duty being, the +doing the whole fighting of the country at their own expense, +instead of leaving it to a standing army of mercenaries, at the beck +and call of a despot; and that, as M. de Tocqueville says: "In +feudal times, the Nobility were regarded pretty much as the +government is regarded in our own; the burdens they imposed were +endured in consequence of the security they afforded. The nobles +had many irksome privileges; they possessed many onerous rights: +but they maintained public order, they administered justice, they +caused the law to be executed, they came to the relief of the weak, +they conducted the business of the community. In proportion as they +ceased to do these things, the burden of their privileges appeared +more oppressive, and their existence became an anomaly in proportion +as they ceased to do these things." And the Ancien Regime may be +defined as the period in which they ceased to do these things--in +which they began to play the idlers, and expected to take their old +wages without doing their old work. + +But in any case, government by a ruling caste, whether of the +patriarchal or of the feudal kind, is no ideal or permanent state of +society. So far from it, it is but the first or second step out of +primeval savagery. For the more a ruling race becomes conscious of +its own duty, and not merely of its own power--the more it learns to +regard its peculiar gifts as entrusted to it for the good of men--so +much the more earnestly will it labour to raise the masses below to +its own level, by imparting to them its own light; and so will it +continually tend to abolish itself, by producing a general equality, +moral and intellectual; and fulfil that law of self-sacrifice which +is the beginning and the end of all virtue. + +A race of noblest men and women, trying to make all below them as +noble as themselves--that is at least a fair ideal, tending toward, +though it has not reached, the highest ideal of all. + +But suppose that the very opposite tendency--inherent in the heart +of every child of man--should conquer. Suppose the ruling caste no +longer the physical, intellectual, and moral superiors of the mass, +but their equals. Suppose them--shameful, but not without example-- +actually sunk to be their inferiors. And that such a fall did come- +-nay, that it must have come--is matter of history. And its cause, +like all social causes, was not a political nor a physical, but a +moral cause. The profligacy of the French and Italian +aristocracies, in the sixteenth century, avenged itself on them by a +curse (derived from the newly-discovered America) from which they +never recovered. The Spanish aristocracy suffered, I doubt not very +severely. The English and German, owing to the superior homeliness +and purity of ruling their lives, hardly at all. But the +continental caste, instead of recruiting their tainted blood by +healthy blood from below, did all, under pretence of keeping it +pure, to keep it tainted by continual intermarriage; and paid, in +increasing weakness of body and mind, the penalty of their exclusive +pride. It is impossible for anyone who reads the French memoirs of +the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, not to perceive, if he be +wise, that the aristocracy therein depicted was ripe for ruin--yea, +already ruined--under any form of government whatsoever, independent +of all political changes. Indeed, many of the political changes +were not the causes but the effects of the demoralisation of the +noblesse. Historians will tell you how, as early as the beginning +of the seventeenth century, Henry IV. complained that the nobles +were quitting their country districts; how succeeding kings and +statesmen, notably Richelieu and Louis XIV., tempted the noblesse up +to Paris, that they might become mere courtiers, instead of powerful +country gentlemen; how those who remained behind were only the poor +hobereaux, little hobby-hawks among the gentry, who considered it +degradation to help in governing the parish, as their forefathers +had governed it, and lived shabbily in their chateaux, grinding the +last farthing out of their tenants, that they might spend it in town +during the winter. No wonder that with such an aristocracy, who had +renounced that very duty of governing the country, for which alone +they and their forefathers had existed, there arose government by +intendants and sub-delegates, and all the other evils of +administrative centralisation, which M. de Tocqueville anatomises +and deplores. But what was the cause of the curse? Their moral +degradation. What drew them up to Paris save vanity and profligacy? +What kept them from intermarrying with the middle class save pride? +What made them give up the office of governors save idleness? And +if vanity, profligacy, pride, and idleness be not injustices and +moral vices, what are? + +The race of heroic knights and nobles who fought under the walls of +Jerusalem--who wrestled, and not in vain, for centuries with the +equally heroic English, in defence of their native soil--who had set +to all Europe the example of all knightly virtues, had rotted down +to this; their only virtue left, as Mr. Carlyle says, being--a +perfect readiness to fight duels. + +Every Intendant, chosen by the Comptroller-General out of the lower- +born members of the Council of State; a needy young plebeian with +his fortune to make, and a stranger to the province, was, in spite +of his greed, ambition, chicane, arbitrary tyranny, a better man-- +abler, more energetic, and often, to judge from the pages of De +Tocqueville, with far more sympathy and mercy for the wretched +peasantry--than was the count or marquis in the chateau above, who +looked down on him as a roturier; and let him nevertheless become +first his deputy, and then his master. + +Understand me--I am not speaking against the hereditary principle of +the Ancien Regime, but against its caste principle--two widely +different elements, continually confounded nowadays. + +The hereditary principle is good, because it is founded on fact and +nature. If men's minds come into the world blank sheets of paper-- +which I much doubt--every other part and faculty of them comes in +stamped with hereditary tendencies and peculiarities. There are +such things as transmitted capabilities for good and for evil; and +as surely as the offspring of a good horse or dog is likely to be +good, so is the offspring of a good man, and still more of a good +woman. If the parents have any special ability, their children will +probably inherit it, at least in part; and over and above, will have +it developed in them by an education worthy of their parents and +themselves. If man were--what he is not--a healthy and normal +species, a permanent hereditary caste might go on intermarrying, and +so perpetuate itself. But the same moral reason which would make +such a caste dangerous--indeed, fatal to the liberty and development +of mankind, makes it happily impossible. Crimes and follies are +certain, after a few generations, to weaken the powers of any human +caste; and unless it supplements its own weakness by mingling again +with the common stock of humanity, it must sink under that weakness, +as the ancient noblesse sank by its own vice. Of course there were +exceptions. The French Revolution brought those exceptions out into +strong light; and like every day of judgment, divided between the +good and the evil. But it lies not in exceptions to save a caste, +or an institution; and a few Richelieus, Liancourts, Rochefoucaulds, +Noailles, Lafayettes were but the storks among the cranes involved +in the wholesale doom due not to each individual, but to a system +and a class. + +Profligacy, pride, idleness--these are the vices which we have to +lay to the charge of the Teutonic Nobility of the Ancien Regime in +France especially; and (though in a less degree perhaps) over the +whole continent of Europe. But below them, and perhaps the cause of +them all, lay another and deeper vice--godlessness--atheism. + +I do not mean merely want of religion, doctrinal unbelief. I mean +want of belief in duty, in responsibility. Want of belief that +there was a living God governing the universe, who had set them +their work, and would judge them according to their work. And +therefore, want of belief, yea, utter unconsciousness, that they +were set in their places to make the masses below them better men; +to impart to them their own civilisation, to raise them to their own +level. They would have shrunk from that which I just now defined as +the true duty of an aristocracy, just because it would have seemed +to them madness to abolish themselves. But the process of abolition +went on, nevertheless, only now from without instead of from within. +So it must always be, in such a case. If a ruling class will not +try to raise the masses to their own level, the masses will try to +drag them down to theirs. That sense of justice which allowed +privileges, when they were as strictly official privileges as the +salary of a judge, or the immunity of a member of the House of +Commons; when they were earned, as in the Middle Age, by severe +education, earnest labour, and life and death responsibility in +peace and war, will demand the abolition of those privileges, when +no work is done in return for them, with a voice which must be +heard, for it is the voice of truth and justice. + +But with that righteous voice will mingle another, most wicked, and +yet, alas! most flattering to poor humanity--the voice of envy, +simple and undisguised; of envy, which moralists hold to be one of +the basest of human passions; which can never be justified, however +hateful or unworthy be the envied man. And when a whole people, or +even a majority thereof, shall be possessed by that, what is there +that they will not do? + +Some are surprised and puzzled when they find, in the French +Revolution of 1793, the noblest and the foulest characters labouring +in concert, and side by side--often, too, paradoxical as it may +seem, united in the same personage. The explanation is simple. +Justice inspired the one; the other was the child of simple envy. +But this passion of envy, if it becomes permanent and popular, may +avenge itself, like all other sins. A nation may say to itself, +"Provided we have no superiors to fall our pride, we are content. +Liberty is a slight matter, provided we have equality. Let us be +slaves, provided we are all slaves alike." It may destroy every +standard of humanity above its own mean average; it may forget that +the old ruling class, in spite of all its defects and crimes, did at +least pretend to represent something higher than man's necessary +wants, plus the greed of amassing money; never meeting (at least in +the country districts) any one wiser or more refined than an +official or a priest drawn from the peasant class, it may lose the +belief that any standard higher than that is needed; and, all but +forgetting the very existence of civilisation, sink contented into a +dead level of intellectual mediocrity and moral barbarism, crying, +"Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." + +A nation in such a temper will surely be taken at its word. Where +the carcase is, there the eagles will be gathered together; and +there will not be wanting to such nations--as there were not wanting +in old Greece and Rome--despots who will give them all they want, +and more, and say to them: "Yes, you shall eat and drink; and yet +you shall not die. For I, while I take care of your mortal bodies, +will see that care is taken of your immortal souls." + +For there are those who have discovered, with the kings of the Holy +Alliance, that infidelity and scepticism are political mistakes, not +so much because they promote vice, as because they promote (or are +supposed to promote) free thought; who see that religion (no matter +of what quality) is a most valuable assistant to the duties of a +minister of police. They will quote in their own behalf +Montesquieu's opinion that religion is a column necessary to sustain +the social edifice; they will quote, too, that sound and true saying +of De Tocqueville's: {1} "If the first American who might be met, +either in his own country, or abroad, were to be stopped and asked +whether he considered religion useful to the stability of the laws +and the good order of society, he would answer, without hesitation, +that no civilised society, but more especially none in a state of +freedom, can exist without religion. Respect for religion is, in +his eyes, the greatest guarantee of the stability of the State, and +of the safety of the community. Those who are ignorant of the +science of government, know that fact at least." + +M. de Tocqueville, when he wrote these words, was lamenting that in +France, "freedom was forsaken;" "a thing for which it is said that +no one any longer cares in France." He did not, it seems to me, +perceive that, as in America the best guarantee of freedom is the +reverence for a religion or religions, which are free themselves, +and which teach men to be free; so in other countries the best +guarantee of slavery is, reverence for religions which are not free, +and which teach men to be slaves. + +But what M. de Tocqueville did not see, there are others who will +see; who will say: "If religion be the pillar of political and +social order, there is an order which is best supported by a +religion which is adverse to free thought, free speech, free +conscience, free communion between man and God. The more enervating +the superstition, the more exacting and tyrannous its priesthood, +the more it will do our work, if we help it to do its own. If it +permit us to enslave the body, we will permit it to enslave the +soul." + +And so may be inaugurated a period of that organised anarchy of +which the poet says: + + +It is not life, but death, when nothing stirs. + + + +LECTURE II--CENTRALISATION + + + +The degradation of the European nobility caused, of course, the +increase of the kingly power, and opened the way to central +despotisms. The bourgeoisie, the commercial middle class, whatever +were its virtues, its value, its real courage, were never able to +stand alone against the kings. Their capital, being invested in +trade, was necessarily subject to such sudden dangers from war, +political change, bad seasons, and so forth, that its holders, +however individually brave, were timid as a class. They could never +hold out on strike against the governments, and had to submit to the +powers that were, whatever they were, under penalty of ruin. + +But on the Continent, and especially in France and Germany, unable +to strengthen itself by intermarriage with the noblesse, they +retained that timidity which is the fruit of the insecurity of +trade; and had to submit to a more and more centralised despotism, +and grow up as they could, in the face of exasperating hindrances to +wealth, to education, to the possession, in many parts of France, of +large landed estates; leaving the noblesse to decay in isolated +uselessness and weakness, and in many cases debt and poverty. + +The system--or rather anarchy--according to which France was +governed during this transitional period, may be read in that work +of M. de Tocqueville's which I have already quoted, and which is +accessible to all classes, through Mr. H. Reeve's excellent +translation. Every student of history is, of course, well +acquainted with that book. But as there is reason to fear, from +language which is becoming once more too common, both in speech and +writing, that the general public either do not know it, or have not +understood it, I shall take the liberty of quoting from it somewhat +largely. I am justified in so doing by the fact that M. de +Tocqueville's book is founded on researches into the French +Archives, which have been made (as far as I am aware) only by him; +and contains innumerable significant facts, which are to be found +(as far as I am aware) in no other accessible work. + +The French people--says M. de Tocqueville--made, in 1789, the +greatest effort which was ever made by any nation to cut, so to +speak, their destiny in halves, and to separate by an abyss that +which they had heretofore been, from that which they sought to +become hereafter. But he had long thought that they had succeeded +in this singular attempt much less than was supposed abroad; and +less than they had at first supposed themselves. He was convinced +that they had unconsciously retained, from the former state of +society, most of the sentiments, the habits, and even the opinions, +by means of which they had effected the destruction of that state of +things; and that, without intending it, they had used its remains to +rebuild the edifice of modern society. This is his thesis, and this +he proves, it seems to me, incontestably by documentary evidence. +Not only does he find habits which we suppose--or supposed till +lately--to have died with the eighteenth century, still living and +working, at least in France, in the nineteenth, but the new opinions +which we look on usually as the special children of the nineteenth +century, he shows to have been born in the eighteenth. France, he +considers, is still at heart what the Ancien Regime made her. + +He shows that the hatred of the ruling caste, the intense +determination to gain and keep equality, even at the expense of +liberty, had been long growing up, under those influences of which I +spoke in my first lecture. + +He shows, moreover, that the acquiescence in a centralised +administration; the expectation that the government should do +everything for the people, and nothing for themselves; the +consequent loss of local liberties, local peculiarities; the +helplessness of the towns and the parishes: and all which issued in +making Paris France, and subjecting the whole of a vast country to +the arbitrary dictates of a knot of despots in the capital, was not +the fruit of the Revolution, but of the Ancien Regime which preceded +it; and that Robespierre and his "Comite de Salut Public," and +commissioners sent forth to the four winds of heaven in bonnet rouge +and carmagnole complete, to build up and pull down, according to +their wicked will, were only handling, somewhat more roughly, the +same wires which had been handled for several generations by the +Comptroller-General and Council of State, with their provincial +intendants. + +"Do you know," said Law to the Marquis d'Argenson, "that this +kingdom of France is governed by thirty intendants? You have +neither parliament, nor estates, nor governors. It is upon thirty +masters of request, despatched into the provinces, that their evil +or their good, their fertility or their sterility, entirely depend." + +To do everything for the people, and let them do nothing for +themselves--this was the Ancien Regime. To be more wise and more +loving than Almighty God, who certainly does not do everything for +the sons of men, but forces them to labour for themselves by bitter +need, and after a most Spartan mode of education; who allows them to +burn their hands as often as they are foolish enough to put them +into the fire; and to be filled with the fruits of their own folly, +even though the folly be one of necessary ignorance; treating them +with that seeming neglect which is after all the most provident +care, because by it alone can men be trained to experience, self- +help, science, true humanity; and so become not tolerably harmless +dolls, but men and women worthy of the name; with + + +The reason firm, the temperate will, +Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; +The perfect spirit, nobly planned +To cheer, to counsel, and command. + + +Such seems to be the education and government appointed for man by +the voluntatem Dei in rebus revelatum, and the education, therefore, +which the man of science will accept and carry out. But the men of +the Ancien Regime--in as far as it was a Regime at all--tried to be +wiser than the Almighty. Why not? They were not the first, nor +will be the last, by many who have made the same attempt. So this +Council of State settled arbitrarily, not only taxes, and militia, +and roads, but anything and everything. Its members meddled, with +their whole hearts and minds. They tried to teach agriculture by +schools and pamphlets and prizes; they sent out plans for every +public work. A town could not establish an octroi, levy a rate, +mortgage, sell, sue, farm, or administer their property, without an +order in council. The Government ordered public rejoicings, saw to +the firing of salutes, and illuminating of houses--in one case +mentioned by M. de Tocqueville, they fined a member of the burgher +guard for absenting himself from a Te Deum. All self-government was +gone. A country parish was, says Turgot, nothing but "an assemblage +of cabins, and of inhabitants as passive as the cabins they dwelt +in." Without an order of council, the parish could not mend the +steeple after a storm, or repair the parsonage gable. If they +grumbled at the intendant, he threw some of the chief persons into +prison, and made the parish pay the expenses of the horse patrol, +which formed the arbitrary police of France. Everywhere was +meddling. There were reports on statistics--circumstantial, +inaccurate, and useless--as statistics are too often wont to be. +Sometimes, when the people were starving, the Government sent down +charitable donations to certain parishes, on condition that the +inhabitants should raise a sum on their part. When the sum offered +was sufficient, the Comptroller-General wrote on the margin, when he +returned the report to the intendant, "Good--express satisfaction." +If it was more than sufficient, he wrote, "Good--express +satisfaction and sensibility." There is nothing new under the sun. +In 1761, the Government, jealous enough of newspapers, determined to +start one for itself, and for that purpose took under its tutelage +the Gazette de France. So the public newsmongers were of course to +be the provincial intendants, and their sub-newsmongers, of course, +the sub-delegates. + +But alas! the poor sub-delegates seem to have found either very +little news, or very little which it was politic to publish. One +reports that a smuggler of salt has been hung, and has displayed +great courage; another that a woman in his district has had three +girls at a birth; another that a dreadful storm has happened, but-- +has done no mischief; a fourth--living in some specially favoured +Utopia--declares that in spite of all his efforts he has found +nothing worth recording, but that he himself will subscribe to so +useful a journal, and will exhort all respectable persons to follow +his example: in spite of which loyal endeavours, the journal seems +to have proved a failure, to the great disgust of the king and his +minister, who had of course expected to secure fine weather by +nailing, like the schoolboy before a holiday, the hand of the +weather-glass. + +Well had it been, if the intermeddling of this bureaucracy had +stopped there. But, by a process of evocation (as it was called), +more and more causes, criminal as well as civil, were withdrawn from +the regular tribunals, to those of the intendants and the Council. +Before the intendant all the lower order of people were generally +sent for trial. Bread-riots were a common cause of such trials, and +M. de Tocqueville asserts that he has found sentences, delivered by +the intendant, and a local council chosen by himself, by which men +were condemned to the galleys, and even to death. Under such a +system, under which an intendant must have felt it his interest to +pretend at all risks, that all was going right, and to regard any +disturbance as a dangerous exposure of himself and his chiefs--one +can understand easily enough that scene which Mr. Carlyle has +dramatised from Lacretelle, concerning the canaille, the masses, as +we used to call them a generation since: + +"A dumb generation--their voice only an inarticulate cry. +Spokesman, in the king's council, in the world's forum, they have +none that finds credence. At rare intervals (as now, in 1775) they +will fling down their hoes, and hammers; and, to the astonishment of +mankind, flock hither and thither, dangerous, aimless, get the +length even of Versailles. Turgot is altering the corn trade, +abrogating the absurdest corn laws; there is dearth, real, or were +it even factitious, an indubitable scarcity of broad. And so, on +the 2nd day of May, 1775, these waste multitudes do here, at +Versailles chateau, in widespread wretchedness, in sallow faces, +squalor, winged raggedness, present as in legible hieroglyphic +writing their petition of grievances. The chateau-gates must be +shut; but the king will appear on the balcony and speak to them. +They have seen the king's face; their petition of grievances has +been, if not read, looked at. In answer, two of them are hanged, on +a new gallows forty feet high, and the rest driven back to their +dens for a time." + +Of course. What more exasperating and inexpiable insult to the +ruling powers was possible than this? To persist in being needy and +wretched, when a whole bureaucracy is toiling day and night to make +them prosperous and happy? An insult only to be avenged in blood. +Remark meanwhile, that this centralised bureaucracy was a failure; +that after all the trouble taken to govern these masses, they were +not governed, in the sense of being made better, and not worse. The +truth is, that no centralised bureaucracy, or so-called "paternal +government," yet invented on earth, has been anything but a failure, +or is it like to be anything else: because it is founded on an +error; because it regards and treats men as that which they are not, +as things; and not as that which they are, as persons. If the +bureaucracy were a mere Briareus giant, with a hundred hands, +helping the weak throughout the length and breadth of the empire, +the system might be at least tolerable. But what if the Government +were not a Briareus with a hundred hands, but a Hydra with a hundred +heads and mouths, each far more intent on helping itself than on +helping the people? What if sub-delegates and other officials, +holding office at the will of the intendant, had to live, and even +provide against a rainy day? What if intendants, holding office at +the will of the Comptroller-General, had to do more than live, and +found it prudent to realise as large a fortune as possible, not only +against disgrace, but against success, and the dignity fit for a new +member of the Noblesse de la Robe? Would not the system, then, soon +become intolerable? Would there not be evil times for the masses, +till they became something more than masses? + +It is an ugly name, that of "The Masses," for the great majority of +human beings in a nation. He who uses it speaks of them not as +human beings, but as things; and as things not bound together in one +living body, but lying in a fortuitous heap. A swarm of ants is not +a mass. It has a polity and a unity. Not the ants but the fir- +needles and sticks, of which the ants have piled their nest, are a +mass. + +The term, I believe, was invented during the Ancien Regime. Whether +it was or not, it expresses very accurately the life of the many in +those days. No one would speak, if he wished to speak exactly, of +the masses of the United States; for there every man is, or is +presumed to be, a personage; with his own independence, his own +activities, his own rights and duties. No one, I believe, would +have talked of the masses in the old feudal times; for then each +individual was someone's man, bound to his master by ties of mutual +service, just or unjust, honourable or base, but still giving him a +personality of duties and rights, and dividing him from his class. + +Dividing, I say. The poor of the Middle Age had little sense of a +common humanity. Those who owned allegiance to the lord in the next +valley were not their brothers; and at their own lord's bidding, +they buckled on sword and slew the next lord's men, with joyful +heart and good conscience. Only now and then misery compressed them +into masses; and they ran together, as sheep run together to face a +dog. Some wholesale wrong made them aware that they were brothers, +at least in the power of starving; and they joined in the cry which +was heard, I believe, in Mecklenburg as late as 1790: "Den Edelman +wille wi dodschlagen." Then, in Wat Tyler's insurrections, in +Munster Anabaptisms, in Jacqueries, they proved themselves to be +masses, if nothing better, striking for awhile, by the mere weight +of numbers, blows terrible, though aimless--soon to be dispersed and +slain in their turn by a disciplined and compact aristocracy. Yet +not always dispersed, if they could find a leader; as the Polish +nobles discovered to their cost in the middle of the seventeenth +century. Then Bogdan the Cossack, a wild warrior, not without his +sins, but having deserved well of James Sobieski and the Poles, +found that the neighbouring noble's steward had taken a fancy to his +windmill and his farm upon the Dnieper. He was thrown into prison +on a frivolous charge, and escaped to the Tatars, leaving his wife +dishonoured, his house burnt, his infant lost in the flames, his +eldest son scourged for protesting against the wrong. And he +returned, at the head of an army of Tatars, Socinians, Greeks, or +what not, to set free the serfs, and exterminate Jesuits, Jews, and +nobles, throughout Podolia, Volhynia, Red Russia; to desecrate the +altars of God, and slay his servants; to destroy the nobles by +lingering tortures; to strip noble ladies and maidens, and hunt them +to death with the whips of his Cossacks; and after defeating the +nobles in battle after battle, to inaugurate an era of misery and +anarchy from which Poland never recovered. + +Thus did the masses of Southern Poland discover, for one generation +at least, that they were not many things, but one thing; a class, +capable of brotherhood and unity, though, alas! only of such as +belongs to a pack of wolves. But such outbursts as this were rare +exceptions. In general, feudalism kept the people divided, and +therefore helpless. And as feudalism died out, and with it the +personal self-respect and loyalty which were engendered by the old +relations of master and servant, the division still remained; and +the people, in France especially, became merely masses, a swarm of +incoherent and disorganised things intent on the necessaries of +daily bread, like mites crawling over each other in a cheese. + +Out of this mass were struggling upwards perpetually, all who had a +little ambition, a little scholarship, or a little money, +endeavouring to become members of the middle class by obtaining a +Government appointment. "A man," says M. de Tocqueville, "endowed +with some education and small means, thought it not decorous to die +without having been a Government officer." "Every man, according to +his condition," says a contemporary writer, "wants to be something +by command of the king." + +It was not merely the "natural vanity" of which M. de Tocqueville +accuses his countrymen, which stirred up in them this eagerness +after place; for we see the same eagerness in other nations of the +Continent, who cannot be accused (as wholes) of that weakness. The +fact is, a Government place, or a Government decoration, cross, +ribbon, or what not, is, in a country where self-government is +unknown or dead, the only method, save literary fame, which is left +to men in order to assert themselves either to themselves or their +fellow-men. + +A British or American shopkeeper or farmer asks nothing of his +Government. He can, if he chooses, be elected to some local office +(generally unsalaried) by the votes of his fellow-citizens. But +that is his right, and adds nothing to his respectability. The test +of that latter, in a country where all honest callings are equally +honourable, is the amount of money he can make; and a very sound +practical test that is, in a country where intellect and capital are +free. Beyond that, he is what he is, and wishes to be no more, save +what he can make himself. He has his rights, guaranteed by law and +public opinion; and as long as he stands within them, and (as he +well phrases it) behaves like a gentleman, he considers himself as +good as any man; and so he is. But under the bureaucratic Regime of +the Continent, if a man had not "something by command of the king," +he was nothing; and something he naturally wished to be, even by +means of a Government which he disliked and despised. So in France, +where innumerable petty posts were regular articles of sale, anyone, +it seems, who had saved a little money, found it most profitable to +invest it in a beadledom of some kind--to the great detriment of the +country, for he thus withdrew his capital from trade; but to his own +clear gain, for he thereby purchased some immunity from public +burdens, and, as it were, compounded once and for all for his taxes. +The petty German princes, it seems, followed the example of France, +and sold their little beadledoms likewise; but even where offices +were not sold, they must be obtained by any and every means, by +everyone who desired not to be as other men were, and to become +Notables, as they were called in France; so he migrated from the +country into the nearest town, and became a member of some small +body-guild, town council, or what not, bodies which were infinite in +number. In one small town M. de Tocqueville discovers thirty-six +such bodies, "separated from each other by diminutive privileges, +the least honourable of which was still a mark of honour." +Quarrelling perpetually with each other for precedence, despising +and oppressing the very menu peuple from whom they had for the most +part sprung, these innumerable small bodies, instead of uniting +their class, only served to split it up more and more; and when the +Revolution broke them up, once and for all, with all other +privileges whatsoever, no bond of union was left; and each man stood +alone, proud of his "individuality"--his complete social isolation; +till he discovered that, in ridding himself of superiors, he had rid +himself also of fellows; fulfilling, every man in his own person, +the old fable of the bundle of sticks; and had to submit, under the +Consulate and the Empire, to a tyranny to which the Ancien Regime +was freedom itself. + +For, in France at least, the Ancien Regime was no tyranny. The +middle and upper classes had individual liberty--it may be, only too +much; the liberty of disobeying a Government which they did not +respect. "However submissive the French may have been before the +Revolution to the will of the king, one sort of obedience was +altogether unknown to them. They knew not what it was to bow before +an illegitimate and contested power--a power but little honoured, +frequently despised, but willingly endured because it may be +serviceable, or because it may hurt. To that degrading form of +servitude they were ever strangers. The king inspired them with +feelings . . . which have become incomprehensible to this generation +. . . They loved him with the affection due to a father; they +revered him with the respect due to God. In submitting to the most +arbitrary of his commands, they yielded less to compulsion than to +loyalty; and thus they frequently preserved great freedom of mind, +even in the most complete dependence. This liberty, irregular, +intermittent," says M. de Tocqueville, "helped to form those +vigorous characters, those proud and daring spirits, which were to +make the French Revolution at once the object of the admiration and +the terror of succeeding generations." + +This liberty--too much akin to anarchy, in which indeed it issued +for awhile--seems to have asserted itself in continual petty +resistance to officials whom they did not respect, and who, in their +turn, were more than a little afraid of the very men out of whose +ranks they had sprung. + +The French Government--one may say, every Government on the +Continent in those days--had the special weakness of all +bureaucracies; namely, that want of moral force which compels them +to fall back at last on physical force, and transforms the ruler +into a bully, and the soldier into a policeman and a gaoler. A +Government of parvenus, uncertain of its own position, will be +continually trying to assert itself to itself, by vexatious +intermeddling and intruding pretensions; and then, when it meets +with the resistance of free and rational spirits, will either recoil +in awkward cowardice, or fly into a passion, and appeal to the +halter and the sword. Such a Government can never take itself for +granted, because it knows that it is not taken for granted by the +people. It never can possess the quiet assurance, the courteous +dignity, without swagger, yet without hesitation, which belongs to +hereditary legislators; by which term is to be understood, not +merely kings, not merely noblemen, but every citizen of a free +nation, however democratic, who has received from his forefathers +the right, the duty, and the example of self-government. + +Such was the political and social state of the Ancien Regime, not +only in France, but if we are to trust (as we must trust) M. de +Tocqueville, in almost every nation in Europe, except Britain. + +And as for its moral state. We must look for that--if we have need, +which happily all have not--in its lighter literature. + +I shall not trouble you with criticisms on French memoirs--of which +those of Madame de Sevigne are on the whole, the most painful (as +witness her comments on the Marquise de Brinvilliers's execution), +because written by a woman better and more human than ordinary. Nor +with "Menagiana," or other 'ana's--as vain and artificial as they +are often foul; nor with novels and poems, long since deservedly +forgotten. On the first perusal of this lighter literature, you +will be charmed with the ease, grace, lightness with which +everything is said. On the second, you will be somewhat cured of +your admiration, as you perceive how little there is to say. The +head proves to be nothing but a cunning mask, with no brains inside. +Especially is this true of a book, which I must beg those who have +read it already, to recollect. To read it I recommend no human +being. We may consider it, as it was considered in its time, the +typical novel of the Ancien Regime. A picture of Spanish society, +written by a Frenchman, it was held to be--and doubtless with +reason--a picture of the whole European world. Its French editor +(of 1836) calls it a grande epopee; "one of the most prodigious +efforts of intelligence, exhausting all forms of humanity"--in fact, +a second Shakespeare, according to the lights of the year 1715. I +mean, of course, "Gil Blas." So picturesque is the book, that it +has furnished inexhaustible motifs to the draughtsman. So excellent +is its workmanship, that the enthusiastic editor of 1836 tells us-- +and doubtless he knows best--that it is the classic model of the +French tongue; and that, as Le Sage "had embraced all that belonged +to man in his composition, he dared to prescribe to himself to +embrace the whole French language in his work." It has been the +parent of a whole school of literature--the Bible of tens of +thousands, with admiring commentators in plenty; on whose souls may +God have mercy! + +And no wonder. The book has a solid value, and will always have, +not merely from its perfect art (according to its own measure and +intention), but from its perfect truthfulness. It is the Ancien +Regime itself. It set forth to the men thereof, themselves, without +veil or cowardly reticence of any kind; and inasmuch as every man +loves himself, the Ancien Regime loved "Gil Blas," and said, "The +problem of humanity is solved at last." But, ye long-suffering +powers of heaven, what a solution! It is beside the matter to call +the book ungodly, immoral, base. Le Sage would have answered: "Of +course it is; for so is the world of which it is a picture." No; +the most notable thing about the book is its intense stupidity; its +dreariness, barrenness, shallowness, ignorance of the human heart, +want of any human interest. If it be an epos, the actors in it are +not men and women, but ferrets--with here and there, of course, a +stray rabbit, on whose brains they may feed. It is the inhuman +mirror of an inhuman age, in which the healthy human heart can find +no more interest than in a pathological museum. + +That last, indeed, "Gil Blas" is; a collection of diseased +specimens. No man or woman in the book, lay or clerical, gentle or +simple, as far as I can remember, do their duty in any wise, even if +they recollect that they have any duty to do. Greed, chicane, +hypocrisy, uselessness are the ruling laws of human society. A new +book of Ecclesiastes, crying, "Vanity of vanity, all is vanity;" the +"conclusion of the whole matter" being left out, and the new +Ecclesiastes rendered thereby diabolic, instead of like that old +one, divine. For, instead of "Fear God and keep his commandments, +for that is the whole duty of main," Le Sage sends forth the new +conclusion, "Take care of thyself, and feed on thy neighbours, for +that is the whole duty of man." And very faithfully was his advice +(easy enough to obey at all times) obeyed for nearly a century after +"Gil Blas" appeared. + +About the same time there appeared, by a remarkable coincidence, +another work, like it the child of the Ancien Regime, and yet as +opposite to it as light to darkness. If Le Sage drew men as they +were, Fenelon tried at least to draw them as they might have been +and still might be, were they governed by sages and by saints, +according to the laws of God. "Telemaque" is an ideal--imperfect, +doubtless, as all ideals must be in a world in which God's ways and +thoughts are for ever higher than man's; but an ideal nevertheless. +If its construction is less complete than that of "Gil Blas," it is +because its aim is infinitely higher; because the form has to be +subordinated, here and there, to the matter. If its political +economy be imperfect, often chimerical, it is because the mind of +one man must needs have been too weak to bring into shape and order +the chaos, social and economic, which he saw around him. M. de +Lamartine, in his brilliant little life of Fenelon, does not +hesitate to trace to the influence of "Telemaque," the Utopias which +produced the revolutions of 1793 and 1848. "The saintly poet was," +he says, "without knowing it, the first Radical and the first +communist of his century." But it is something to have preached to +princes doctrines till then unknown, or at least forgotten for many +a generation--free trade, peace, international arbitration, and the +"carriere ouverte aux talents" for all ranks. It is something to +have warned his generation of the dangerous overgrowth of the +metropolis; to have prophesied, as an old Hebrew might have done, +that the despotism which he saw around him would end in a violent +revolution. It is something to have combined the highest Christian +morality with a hearty appreciation of old Greek life; of its +reverence for bodily health and prowess; its joyous and simple +country society; its sacrificial feasts, dances, games; its respect +for the gods; its belief that they helped, guided, inspired the sons +of men. It is something to have himself believed in God; in a +living God, who, both in this life and in all lives to come, +rewarded the good and punished the evil by inevitable laws. It is +something to have warned a young prince, in an age of doctrinal +bigotry and practical atheism, that a living God still existed, and +that his laws were still in force; to have shown him Tartarus +crowded with the souls of wicked monarchs, while a few of kingly +race rested in Elysium, and among them old pagans--Inachus, Cecrops, +Erichthon, Triptolemus, and Sesostris--rewarded for ever for having +done their duty, each according to his light, to the flocks which +the gods had committed to their care. It is something to have +spoken to a prince, in such an age, without servility, and without +etiquette, of the frailties and the dangers which beset arbitrary +rulers; to have told him that royalty, "when assumed to content +oneself, is a monstrous tyranny; when assumed to fulfil its duties, +and to conduct an innumerable people as a father conducts his +children, a crushing slavery, which demands an heroic courage and +patience." + +Let us honour the courtier who dared speak such truths; and still +more the saintly celibate who had sufficient catholicity of mind to +envelop them in old Grecian dress, and, without playing false for a +moment to his own Christianity, seek in the writings of heathen +sages a wider and a healthier view of humanity than was afforded by +an ascetic creed. + +No wonder that the appearance of "Telemaque," published in Holland +without the permission of Fenelon, delighted throughout Europe that +public which is always delighted with new truths, as long as it is +not required to practise them. To read "Telemaque" was the right +and the enjoyment of everyone. To obey it, the duty only of +princes. No wonder that, on the other hand, this "Vengeance de +peuples, lecon des rois," as M. de Lamartine calls it, was taken for +the bitterest satire by Louis XIV., and completed the disgrace of +one who had dared to teach the future king of France that he must +show himself, in all things, the opposite of his grandfather. No +wonder if Madame de Maintenon and the court looked on its portraits +of wicked ministers and courtiers as caricatures of themselves; +portraits too, which, "composed thus in the palace of Versailles, +under the auspices of that confidence which the king had placed in +the preceptor of his heir, seemed a domestic treason." No wonder, +also, if the foolish and envious world outside was of the same +opinion; and after enjoying for awhile this exposure of the great +ones of the earth, left "Telemaque" as an Utopia with which private +folks had no concern; and betook themselves to the easier and more +practical model of "Gil Blas." + +But there are solid defects in "Telemaque"--indicating corresponding +defects in the author's mind--which would have, in any case, +prevented its doing the good work which Fenelon desired; defects +which are natural, as it seems to me, to his position as a Roman +Catholic priest, however saintly and pure, however humane and +liberal. The king, with him, is to be always the father of his +people; which is tantamount to saying, that the people are to be +always children, and in a condition of tutelage; voluntary, if +possible: if not, of tutelage still. Of self-government, and +education of human beings into free manhood by the exercise of self- +government, free will, free thought--of this Fenelon had surely not +a glimpse. A generation or two passed by, and then the peoples of +Europe began to suspect that they were no longer children, but come +to manhood; and determined (after the example of Britain and +America) to assume the rights and duties of manhood, at whatever +risk of excesses or mistakes: and then "Telemaque" was relegated-- +half unjustly--as the slavish and childish dream of a past age, into +the schoolroom, where it still remains. + +But there is a defect in "Telemaque" which is perhaps deeper still. +No woman in it exercises influence over man, except for evil. +Minerva, the guiding and inspiring spirit, assumes of course, as +Mentor, a male form; but her speech and thought is essentially +masculine, and not feminine. Antiope is a mere lay-figure, +introduced at the end of the book because Telemachus must needs be +allowed to have hope of marrying someone or other. Venus plays but +the same part as she does in the Tannenhauser legends of the Middle +Age. Her hatred against Telemachus is an integral element of the +plot. She, with the other women or nymphs of the romance, in spite +of all Fenelon's mercy and courtesy towards human frailties, really +rise no higher than the witches of the Malleus Maleficanum. Woman-- +as the old monk held who derived femina from fe, faith, and minus, +less, because women have less faith than men--is, in "Telemaque," +whenever she thinks or acts, the temptress, the enchantress; the +victim (according to a very ancient calumny) of passions more +violent, often more lawless, than man's. + +Such a conception of women must make "Telemaque," to the end of +time, useless as a wholesome book of education. It must have +crippled its influence, especially in France, in its own time. For +there, for good and for evil, woman was asserting more and more her +power, and her right to power, over the mind and heart of man. +Rising from the long degradation of the Middle Ages, which had +really respected her only when unsexed and celibate, the French +woman had assumed, often lawlessly, always triumphantly, her just +freedom; her true place as the equal, the coadjutor, the counsellor +of man. Of all problems connected with the education of a young +prince, that of the influence of woman was, in the France of the +Ancien Regime, the most important. And it was just that which +Fenelon did not, perhaps dared not, try to touch; and which he most +certainly could not have solved. Meanwhile, not only Madame de +Maintenon, but women whose names it were a shame to couple with +hers, must have smiled at, while they hated, the saint who attempted +to dispense not only with them, but with the ideal queen who should +have been the helpmeet of the ideal king. + +To those who believe that the world is governed by a living God, it +may seem strange, at first sight, that this moral anarchy was +allowed to endure; that the avenging, and yet most purifying storm +of the French Revolution, inevitable from Louis XIV.'s latter years, +was not allowed to burst two generations sooner than it did. Is not +the answer--that the question always is not of destroying the world, +but of amending it? And that amendment must always come from +within, and not from without? That men must be taught to become +men, and mend their world themselves? To educate men into self- +government--that is the purpose of the government of God; and some +of the men of the eighteenth century did not learn that lesson. As +the century rolled on, the human mind arose out of the slough in +which Le Sage found it, into manifold and beautiful activity, +increasing hatred of shams and lies, increasing hunger after truth +and usefulness. With mistakes and confusions innumerable they +worked: but still they worked; planting good seed; and when the +fire of the French Revolution swept over the land, it burned up the +rotten and the withered, only to let the fresh herbage spring up +from underneath. + +But that purifying fire was needed. If we inquire why the many +attempts to reform the Ancien Regime, which the eighteenth century +witnessed, were failures one and all; why Pombal failed in Portugal, +Aranda in Spain, Joseph II. in Austria, Ferdinand and Caroline in +Naples--for these last, be it always remembered, began as humane and +enlightened sovereigns, patronising liberal opinions, and labouring +to ameliorate the condition of the poor, till they were driven by +the murder of Marie Antoinette into a paroxysm of rage and terror-- +why, above all, Louis XVI., who attempted deeper and wiser reforms +than any other sovereign, failed more disastrously than any--is not +the answer this, that all these reforms would but have cleansed the +outside of the cup and the platter, while they left the inside full +of extortion and excess? It was not merely institutions which +required to be reformed, but men and women. The spirit of "Gil +Blas" had to be cast out. The deadness, selfishness, isolation of +men's souls; their unbelief in great duties, great common causes, +great self-sacrifices--in a word, their unbelief in God, and +themselves, and mankind--all that had to be reformed; and till that +was done all outward reform would but have left them, at best, in +brute ease and peace, to that soulless degradation, which (as in the +Byzantine empire of old, and seeming in the Chinese empire of to- +day) hides the reality of barbarism under a varnish of civilisation. +Men had to be awakened; to be taught to think for themselves, act +for themselves, to dare and suffer side by side for their country +and for their children; in a word, to arise and become men once +more. + +And, what is more, men had to punish--to avenge. Those are fearful +words. But there is, in this God-guided universe, a law of +retribution, which will find men out, whether men choose to find it +out or not; a law of retribution; of vengeance inflicted justly, +though not necessarily by just men. The public executioner was +seldom a very estimable personage, at least under the old Regime; +and those who have been the scourges of God have been, in general, +mere scourges, and nothing better; smiting blindly, rashly, +confusedly; confounding too often the innocent with the guilty, till +they have seemed only to punish crime by crime, and replace old sins +by new. But, however insoluble, however saddening that puzzle be, I +must believe--as long as I believe in any God at all--that such men +as Robespierre were His instruments, even in their crimes. + +In the case of the French Revolution, indeed, the wickedness of +certain of its leaders was part of the retribution itself. For the +noblesse existed surely to make men better. It did, by certain +classes, the very opposite. Therefore it was destroyed by wicked +men, whom it itself had made wicked. For over and above all +political, economic, social wrongs, there were wrongs personal, +human, dramatic; which stirred not merely the springs of +covetousness or envy, or even of a just demand for the freedom of +labour and enterprise: but the very deepest springs of rage, +contempt, and hate; wrongs which caused, as I believe, the horrors +of the Revolution. + +It is notorious how many of the men most deeply implicated in those +horrors were of the artist class--by which I signify not merely +painters and sculptors--as the word artist has now got, somewhat +strangely, to signify, at least in England--but what the French +meant by ARTISTES--producers of luxuries and amusements, play- +actors, musicians, and suchlike, down to that "distracted peruke- +maker with two fiery torches," who, at the storm of the Bastile, +"was for burning the saltpetres of the Arsenal, had not a woman run +screaming; had not a patriot, with some tincture of natural +philosophy, instantly struck the wind out of him, with butt of +musket on pit of stomach, overturned the barrels, and stayed the +devouring element." The distracted peruke-maker may have had his +wrongs--perhaps such a one as that of poor Triboulet the fool, in +"Le Roi s'amuse"--and his own sound reasons for blowing down the +Bastile, and the system which kept it up. + +For these very ministers of luxury--then miscalled art--from the +periwig-maker to the play-actor--who like them had seen the +frivolity, the baseness, the profligacy, of the rulers to whose +vices they pandered, whom they despised while they adored! Figaro +himself may have looked up to his master the Marquis as a superior +being as long as the law enabled the Marquis to send him to the +Bastile by a lettre de cachet; yet Figaro may have known and seen +enough to excuse him, when lettres de cachet were abolished, for +handing the Marquis over to a Comite de Salut Public. Disappointed +play-actors, like Collet d'Herbois; disappointed poets, like Fabre +d'Olivet, were, they say, especially ferocious. Why not? +Ingenious, sensitive spirits, used as lap-dogs and singing-birds by +men and women whom they felt to be their own flesh and blood, they +had, it may be, a juster appreciation of the actual worth of their +patrons than had our own Pitt and Burke. They had played the valet: +and no man was a hero to them. They had seen the nobleman expose +himself before his own helots: they would try if the helot was not +as good as the nobleman. The nobleman had played the mountebank: +why should not the mountebank, for once, play the nobleman? The +nobleman's God had been his five senses, with (to use Mr. Carlyle's +phrase) the sixth sense of vanity: why should not the mountebank +worship the same God, like Carriere at Nantes, and see what grace +and gifts he too might obtain at that altar? + +But why so cruel? Because, with many of these men, I more than +suspect, there were wrongs to be avenged deeper than any wrongs done +to the sixth sense of vanity. Wrongs common to them, and to a great +portion of the respectable middle class, and much of the lower +class: but wrongs to which they and their families, being most in +contact with the noblesse, would be especially exposed; namely, +wrongs to women. + +Everyone who knows the literature of that time, must know what I +mean: what had gone on for more than a century, it may be more than +two, in France, in Italy, and--I am sorry to have to say it--Germany +likewise. All historians know what I mean, and how enormous was the +evil. I only wonder that they have so much overlooked that item in +the causes of the Revolution. It seems to me to have been more +patent and potent in the sight of men, as it surely was in the sight +of Almighty God, than all the political and economic wrongs put +together. They might have issued in a change of dynasty or of laws. +That, issued in the blood of the offenders. Not a girl was enticed +into Louis XV.'s Petit Trianon, or other den of aristocratic +iniquity, but left behind her, parents nursing shame and sullen +indignation, even while they fingered the ill-gotten price of their +daughter's honour; and left behind also, perhaps, some unhappy boy +of her own class, in whom disappointment and jealousy were +transformed--and who will blame him?--into righteous indignation, +and a very sword of God; all the more indignant, and all the more +righteous, if education helped him to see, that the maiden's +acquiescence, her pride in her own shame, was the ugliest feature in +the whole crime, and the most potent reason for putting an end, +however fearful, to a state of things in which such a fate was +thought an honour and a gain, and not a disgrace and a ruin; in +which the most gifted daughters of the lower classes had learnt to +think it more noble to become--that which they became--than the +wives of honest men. + +If you will read fairly the literature of the Ancien Regime, whether +in France or elsewhere, you will see that my facts are true. If you +have human hearts in you, you will see in them, it seems to me, an +explanation of many a guillotinade and fusillade, as yet explained +only on the ground of madness--an hypothesis which (as we do not yet +in the least understand what madness is) is no explanation at all. + +An age of decay, incoherence, and makeshift, varnish and gilding +upon worm-eaten furniture, and mouldering wainscot, was that same +Ancien Regime. And for that very reason a picturesque age; like one +of its own landscapes. A picturesque bit of uncultivated mountain, +swarming with the prince's game; a picturesque old robber schloss +above, now in ruins; and below, perhaps, the picturesque new +schloss, with its French fountains and gardens, French nymphs of +marble, and of flesh and blood likewise, which the prince has +partially paid for, by selling a few hundred young men to the +English to fight the Yankees. The river, too, is picturesque, for +the old bridge has not been repaired since it was blown up in the +Seven Years' War; and there is but a single lazy barge floating down +the stream, owing to the tolls and tariffs of his Serene Highness; +the village is picturesque, for the flower of the young men are at +the wars, and the place is tumbling down; and the two old peasants +in the foreground, with the single goat and the hamper of vine- +twigs, are very picturesque likewise, for they are all in rags. + +How sad to see the picturesque element eliminated, and the quiet +artistic beauty of the scene destroyed;--to have steamers puffing up +and down the river, and a railroad hurrying along its banks the +wealth of the Old World, in exchange for the wealth of the New--or +hurrying, it may be, whole regiments of free and educated citizen- +soldiers, who fight, they know for what. How sad to see the alto +schloss desecrated by tourists, and the neue schloss converted into +a cold-water cure. How sad to see the village, church and all, +built up again brand-new, and whitewashed to the very steeple-top;-- +a new school at the town-end--a new crucifix by the wayside. How +sad to see the old folk well clothed in the fabrics of England or +Belgium, doing an easy trade in milk and fruit, because the land +they till has become their own, and not the prince's; while their +sons are thriving farmers on the prairies of the far West. Very +unpicturesque, no doubt, is wealth and progress, peace and safety, +cleanliness and comfort. But they possess advantages unknown to the +Ancien Regime, which was, if nothing else, picturesque. Men could +paint amusing and often pretty pictures of its people and its +places. + +Consider that word, "picturesque." It, and the notion of art which +it expresses, are the children of the Ancien Regime--of the era of +decay. The healthy, vigorous, earnest, progressive Middle Age never +dreamed of admiring, much less of painting, for their own sake, rags +and ruins; the fashion sprang up at the end of the seventeenth +century; it lingered on during the first quarter of our century, +kept alive by the reaction from 1815-25. It is all but dead now, +before the return of vigorous and progressive thought. An admirer +of the Middle Ages now does not build a sham ruin in his grounds; he +restores a church, blazing with colour, like a medieval +illumination. He has learnt to look on that which went by the name +of picturesque in his great-grandfather's time, as an old Greek or a +Middle Age monk would have done--as something squalid, ugly, a sign +of neglect, disease, death; and therefore to be hated and abolished, +if it cannot be restored. At Carcassone, now, M. Viollet-le-Duc, +under the auspices of the Emperor of the French, is spending his +vast learning, and much money, simply in abolishing the picturesque; +in restoring stone for stone, each member of that wonderful museum +of Middle Age architecture: Roman, Visigothic, Moslem, Romaine, +Early English, later French, all is being reproduced exactly as it +must have existed centuries since. No doubt that is not the highest +function of art: but it is a preparation for the highest, a step +toward some future creative school. As the early Italian artists, +by careful imitation, absorbed into their minds the beauty and +meaning of old Greek and Roman art; so must the artists of our days +by the art of the Middle Age and the Renaissance. They must learn +to copy, before they can learn to surpass; and, meanwhile, they must +learn--indeed they have learnt--that decay is ugliness, and the +imitation of decay, a making money out of the public shame. + +The picturesque sprang up, as far as I can discover, suddenly, +during the time of exhaustion and recklessness which followed the +great struggles of the sixteenth century. Salvator Rosa and Callot, +two of the earliest professors of picturesque art, have never been +since surpassed. For indeed, they drew from life. The rags and the +ruins, material, and alas! spiritual, were all around them; the +lands and the creeds alike lay waste. There was ruffianism and +misery among the masses of Europe; unbelief and artificiality among +the upper classes; churches and monasteries defiled, cities sacked, +farmsteads plundered and ruinate, and all the wretchedness which +Callot has immortalised--for a warning to evil rulers--in his +Miseres de la Guerre. The world was all gone wrong: but as for +setting it right again--who could do that? And so men fell into a +sentimental regret for the past, and its beauties, all exaggerated +by the foreshortening of time; while they wanted strength or faith +to reproduce it. At last they became so accustomed to the rags and +ruins, that they looked on them as the normal condition of humanity, +as the normal field for painters. + +Only now and then, and especially toward the latter half of the +eighteenth century, when thought began to revive, and men dreamed of +putting the world to rights once more, there rose before them +glimpses of an Arcadian ideal. Country life--the primaeval calling +of men--how graceful and pure it might be! How graceful--if not +pure--it once had been! The boors of Teniers and the beggars of +Murillo might be true to present fact; but there was a fairer ideal, +which once had been fact, in the Eclogues of Theocritus, and the +Loves of Daphnis and Chloe. And so men took to dreaming of +shepherds and shepherdesses, and painting them on canvas, and +modelling them in china, according to their cockney notions of what +they had been once, and always ought to be. We smile now at Sevres +and Dresden shepherdesses; but the wise man will surely see in them +a certain pathos. They indicated a craving after something better +than boorishness; and the many men and women may have become the +gentler and purer by looking even at them, and have said sadly to +themselves: "Such might have been the peasantry of half Europe, had +it not been for devastations of the Palatinate, wars of succession, +and the wicked wills of emperors and kings." + + + +LECTURE III--THE EXPLOSIVE FORCES + + + +In a former lecture in this Institution, I said that the human race +owed more to the eighteenth century than to any century since the +Christian era. It may seem a bold assertion to those who value duly +the century which followed the revival of Greek literature, and +consider that the eighteenth century was but the child, or rather +grandchild, thereof. But I must persist in my opinion, even though +it seem to be inconsistent with my description of the very same era +as one of decay and death. For side by side with the death, there +was manifold fresh birth; side by side with the decay there was +active growth;--side by side with them, fostered by them, though +generally in strong opposition to them, whether conscious or +unconscious. We must beware, however, of trying to find between +that decay and that growth a bond of cause and effect where there is +really none. The general decay may have determined the course of +many men's thoughts; but it no more set them thinking than (as I +have heard said) the decay of the Ancien Regime produced the new +Regime--a loose metaphor, which, like all metaphors, will not hold +water, and must not be taken for a philosophic truth. That would be +to confess man--what I shall never confess him to be--the creature +of circumstances; it would be to fall into the same fallacy of +spontaneous generation as did the ancients, when they believed that +bees were bred from the carcass of a dead ox. In the first place, +the bees were no bees, but flies--unless when some true swarm of +honey bees may have taken up their abode within the empty ribs, as +Samson's bees did in that of the lion. But bees or flies, each +sprang from an egg, independent of the carcass, having a vitality of +its own: it was fostered by the carcass it fed on during +development; but bred from it it was not, any more than Marat was +bred from the decay of the Ancien Regime. There are flies which, by +feeding on putridity, become poisonous themselves, as did Marat: +but even they owe their vitality and organisation to something +higher than that on which they feed; and each of them, however, +defaced and debased, was at first a "thought of God." All true +manhood consists in the defiance of circumstances; and if any man be +the creature of circumstances, it is because he has become so, like +the drunkard; because he has ceased to be a man, and sunk downward +toward the brute. + +Accordingly we shall find, throughout the 18th century, a stirring +of thought, an originality, a resistance to circumstances, an +indignant defiance of circumstances, which would have been +impossible, had circumstances been the true lords and shapers of +mankind. Had that latter been the case, the downward progress of +the Ancien Regime would have been irremediable. Each generation, +conformed more and more to the element in which it lived, would have +sunk deeper in dull acquiescence to evil, in ignorance of all +cravings save those of the senses; and if at any time intolerable +wrong or want had driven it to revolt, it would have issued, not in +the proclamation of new and vast ideas, but in an anarchic struggle +for revenge and bread. + +There are races, alas! which seem, for the present at least, +mastered by circumstances. Some, like the Chinese, have sunk back +into that state; some, like the negro in Africa, seem not yet to +have emerged from it; but in Europe, during the eighteenth century, +were working not merely new forces and vitalities (abstractions +which mislead rather than explain), but living persons in plenty, +men and women, with independent and original hearts and brains, +instinct, in spite of all circumstances, with power which we shall +most wisely ascribe directly to Him who is the Lord and Giver of +Life. + +Such persons seemed--I only say seemed--most numerous in England and +in Germany. But there were enough of them in France to change the +destiny of that great nation for awhile--perhaps for ever. + +M. de Tocqueville has a whole chapter, and a very remarkable one, +which appears at first sight to militate against my belief--a +chapter "showing that France was the country in which men had become +most alike." + +"The men," he says, "of that time, especially those belonging to the +upper and middle ranks of society, who alone were at all +conspicuous, were all exactly alike." + +And it must be allowed, that if this were true of the upper and +middle classes, it must have been still more true of the mass of the +lowest population, who, being most animal, are always most moulded-- +or rather crushed--by their own circumstances, by public opinion, +and by the wants of five senses, common to all alike. + +But when M. de Tocqueville attributes this curious fact to the +circumstances of their political state--to that "government of one +man which in the end has the inevitable effect of rendering all men +alike, and all mutually indifferent to their common fate"--we must +differ, even from him: for facts prove the impotence of that, or of +any other circumstance, in altering the hearts and souls of men, in +producing in them anything but a mere superficial and temporary +resemblance. + +For all the while there was, among these very French, here and there +a variety of character and purpose, sufficient to burst through that +very despotism, and to develop the nation into manifold, new, and +quite original shapes. Thus it was proved that the uniformity had +been only in their outside crust and shell. What tore the nation to +pieces during the Reign of Terror, but the boundless variety and +originality of the characters which found themselves suddenly in +free rivalry? What else gave to the undisciplined levies, the +bankrupt governments, the parvenu heroes of the Republic, a manifold +force, a self-dependent audacity, which made them the conquerors, +and the teachers (for good and evil) of the civilised world? If +there was one doctrine which the French Revolution specially +proclaimed--which it caricatured till it brought it into temporary +disrepute--it was this: that no man is like another; that in each +is a God-given "individuality," an independent soul, which no +government or man has a right to crush, or can crush in the long +run: but which ought to have, and must have, a "carriere ouverte +aux talents," freely to do the best for itself in the battle of +life. The French Revolution, more than any event since twelve poor +men set forth to convert the world some eighteen hundred years ago, +proves that man ought not to be, and need not be, the creature of +circumstances, the puppet of institutions; but, if he will, their +conqueror and their lord. + +Of these original spirits who helped to bring life out of death, and +the modern world out of the decay of the mediaeval world, the French +PHILOSOPHES and encyclopaedists are, of course, the most notorious. +They confessed, for the most part, that their original inspiration +had come from England. They were, or considered themselves, the +disciples of Locke; whose philosophy, it seems to me, their own acts +disproved. + +And first, a few words on these same philosophes. One may be +thoroughly aware of their deficiencies, of their sins, moral as well +as intellectual; and yet one may demand that everyone should judge +them fairly--which can only be done by putting himself in their +place; and any fair judgment of them will, I think, lead to the +conclusion that they were not mere destroyers, inflamed with hate of +everything which mankind had as yet held sacred. Whatever sacred +things they despised, one sacred thing they reverenced, which men +had forgotten more and more since the seventeenth century--common +justice and common humanity. It was this, I believe, which gave +them their moral force. It was this which drew towards them the +hearts, not merely of educated bourgeois and nobles (on the menu +peuple they had no influence, and did not care to have any), but of +every continental sovereign who felt in himself higher aspirations +than those of a mere selfish tyrant--Frederick the Great, Christina +of Sweden, Joseph of Austria, and even that fallen Juno, Catharine +of Russia, with all her sins. To take the most extreme instance-- +Voltaire. We may question his being a philosopher at all. We may +deny that he had even a tincture of formal philosophy. We may doubt +much whether he had any of that human and humorous common sense, +which is often a good substitute for the philosophy of the schools. +We may feel against him a just and honest indignation when we +remember that he dared to travestie into a foul satire the tale of +his country's purest and noblest heroine; but we must recollect, at +the same time, that he did a public service to the morality of his +own country, and of all Europe, by his indignation--quite as just +and honest as any which we may feel--at the legal murder of Calas. +We must recollect that, if he exposes baseness and foulness with too +cynical a license of speech (in which, indeed, he sinned no more +than had the average of French writers since the days of Montaigne), +he at least never advocates them, as did Le Sage. We must recollect +that, scattered throughout his writings, are words in favour of that +which is just, merciful, magnanimous, and even, at times, in favour +of that which is pure; which proves that in Voltaire, as in most +men, there was a double self--the one sickened to cynicism by the +iniquity and folly which he saw around him--the other, hungering +after a nobler life, and possibly exciting that hunger in one and +another, here and there, who admired him for other reasons than the +educated mob, which cried after him "Vive la Pucelle." + +Rousseau, too. Easy it is to feel disgust, contempt, for the +"Confessions" and the "Nouvelle Heloise"--for much, too much, in the +man's own life and character. One would think the worse of the +young Englishman who did not so feel, and express his feelings +roundly and roughly. But all young Englishmen should recollect, +that to Rousseau's "Emile" they owe their deliverance from the +useless pedantries, the degrading brutalities, of the medieval +system of school education; that "Emile" awakened throughout +civilised Europe a conception of education just, humane, rational, +truly scientific, because founded upon facts; that if it had not +been written by one writhing under the bitter consequences of mis- +education, and feeling their sting and their brand day by day on his +own spirit, Miss Edgeworth might never have reformed our nurseries, +or Dr. Arnold our public schools. + +And so with the rest of the philosophes. That there were charlatans +among them, vain men, pretentious men, profligate men, selfish, +self-seeking, and hypocritical men, who doubts? Among what class of +men were there not such in those evil days? In what class of men +are there not such now, in spite of all social and moral +improvement? But nothing but the conviction, among the average, +that they were in the right--that they were fighting a battle for +which it was worth while to dare, and if need be to suffer, could +have enabled them to defy what was then public opinion, backed by +overwhelming physical force. + +Their intellectual defects are patent. No one can deny that their +inductions were hasty and partial: but then they were inductions as +opposed to the dull pedantry of the schools, which rested on +tradition only half believed, or pretended to be believed. No one +can deny that their theories were too general and abstract; but then +they were theories as opposed to the no-theory of the Ancien Regime, +which was, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." + +Theories--principles--by them if men do not live, by them men are, +at least, stirred into life, at the sight of something more noble +than themselves. Only by great ideas, right or wrong, could such a +world as that which Le Sage painted, be roused out of its slough of +foul self-satisfaction, and equally foul self-discontent. + +For mankind is ruled and guided, in the long run, not by practical +considerations, not by self-interest, not by compromises; but by +theories and principles, and those of the most abstruse, delicate, +supernatural, and literally unspeakable kind; which, whether they be +according to reason or not, are so little according to logic--that +is, to speakable reason--that they cannot be put into speech. Men +act, whether singly or in masses, by impulses and instincts for +which they give reasons quite incompetent, often quite irrelevant; +but which they have caught from each other, as they catch fever or +small-pox; as unconsciously, and yet as practically and potently; +just as the nineteenth century has caught from the philosophers of +the eighteenth most practical rules of conduct, without even (in +most cases) having read a word of their works. + +And what has this century caught from these philosophers? One rule +it has learnt, and that a most practical one--to appeal in all +cases, as much as possible, to "Reason and the Laws of Nature." +That, at least, the philosophers tried to do. Often they failed. +Their conceptions of reason and of the laws of nature being often +incorrect, they appealed to unreason and to laws which were not +those of nature. "The fixed idea of them all was," says M. de +Tocqueville, "to substitute simple and elementary rules, deduced +from reason and natural law, for the complicated traditional customs +which governed the society of their time." They were often rash, +hasty, in the application of their method. They ignored whole +classes of facts, which, though spiritual and not physical, are just +as much facts, and facts for science, as those which concern a stone +or a fungus. They mistook for merely complicated traditional +customs, many most sacred institutions which were just as much +founded on reason and natural law, as any theories of their own. +But who shall say that their method was not correct? That it was +not the only method? They appealed to reason. Would you have had +them appeal to unreason? They appealed to natural law. Would you +have had them appeal to unnatural law?--law according to which God +did not make this world? Alas! that had been done too often +already. Solomon saw it done in his time, and called it folly, to +which he prophesied no good end. Rabelais saw it done in his time; +and wrote his chapters on the "Children of Physis and the Children +of Antiphysis." But, born in an evil generation, which was already, +even in 1500, ripening for the revolution of 1789, he was sensual +and, I fear, cowardly enough to hide his light, not under a bushel, +but under a dunghill; till men took him for a jester of jests; and +his great wisdom was lost to the worse and more foolish generations +which followed him, and thought they understood him. + +But as for appealing to natural law for that which is good for men, +and to reason for the power of discerning that same good--if man +cannot find truth by that method, by what method shall he find it? + +And thus it happened that, though these philosophers and +encyclopaedists were not men of science, they were at least the +heralds and the coadjutors of science. + +We may call them, and justly, dreamers, theorists, fanatics. But we +must recollect that one thing they meant to do, and did. They +recalled men to facts; they bid them ask of everything they saw-- +What are the facts of the case? Till we know the facts, argument is +worse than useless. + +Now the habit of asking for the facts of the case must deliver men +more or less from that evil spirit which the old Romans called +"Fama;" from her whom Virgil described in the AEneid as the ugliest, +the falsest, and the cruellest of monsters. + +From "Fama;" from rumours, hearsays, exaggerations, scandals, +superstitions, public opinions--whether from the ancient public +opinion that the sun went round the earth, or the equally public +opinion, that those who dared to differ from public opinion were +hateful to the deity, and therefore worthy of death--from all these +blasts of Fame's lying trumpet they helped to deliver men; and they +therefore helped to insure something like peace and personal +security for those quiet, modest, and generally virtuous men, who, +as students of physical science, devoted their lives, during the +eighteenth century, to asking of nature--What are the facts of the +case? + +It was no coincidence, but a connection of cause and effect, that +during the century of philosopher sound physical science throve, as +she had never thriven before; that in zoology and botany, chemistry +and medicine, geology and astronomy, man after man, both of the +middle and the noble classes, laid down on more and more sound, +because more and more extended foundations, that physical science +which will endure as an everlasting heritage to mankind; endure, +even though a second Byzantine period should reduce it to a timid +and traditional pedantry, or a second irruption of barbarians sweep +it away for awhile, to revive again (as classic philosophy revived +in the fifteenth century) among new and more energetic races; when +the kingdom of God shall have been taken away from us, and given to +a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof. + +An eternal heritage, I say, for the human race; which once gained, +can never be lost; which stands, and will stand; marches, and will +march, proving its growth, its health, its progressive force, its +certainty of final victory, by those very changes, disputes, +mistakes, which the ignorant and the bigoted hold up to scorn, as +proofs of its uncertainty and its rottenness; because they never +have dared or cared to ask boldly--What are the facts of the case?-- +and have never discovered either the acuteness, the patience, the +calm justice, necessary for ascertaining the facts, or their awful +and divine certainty when once ascertained. + +[But these philosophers (it will be said) hated all religion. + +Before that question can be fairly discussed, it is surely right to +consider what form of religion that was which they found working +round them in France, and on the greater part of the Continent. The +quality thereof may have surely had something to do (as they +themselves asserted) with that "sort of rage" with which (to use M. +de Tocqueville's words) "the Christian religion was attacked in +France." + +M. de Tocqueville is of opinion (and his opinion is likely to be +just) that "the Church was not more open to attack in France than +elsewhere; that the corruptions and abuses which had been allowed to +creep into it were less, on the contrary, there than in most +Catholic countries. The Church of France was infinitely more +tolerant than it ever had been previously, and than it still was +among other nations. Consequently, the peculiar causes of this +phenomenon" (the hatred which it aroused) "must be looked for less +in the condition of religion than in that of society." + +"We no longer," he says, shortly after, "ask in what the Church of +that day erred as a religious institution, but how far it stood +opposed to the political revolution which was at hand." And he goes +on to show how the principles of her ecclesiastical government, and +her political position, were such that the philosophes must needs +have been her enemies. But he mentions another fact which seems to +me to belong neither to the category of religion nor to that of +politics; a fact which, if he had done us the honour to enlarge upon +it, might have led him and his readers to a more true understanding +of the disrepute into which Christianity had fallen in France. + +"The ecclesiastical authority had been specially employed in keeping +watch over the progress of thought; and the censorship of books was +a daily annoyance to the philosophes. By defending the common +liberties of the human mind against the Church, they were combating +in their own cause: and they began by breaking the shackles which +pressed most closely on themselves." + +Just so. And they are not to be blamed if they pressed first and +most earnestly reforms which they knew by painful experience to be +necessary. All reformers are wont thus to begin at home. It is to +their honour if, not content with shaking off their own fetters, +they begin to see that others are fettered likewise; and, reasoning +from the particular to the universal, to learn that their own cause +is the cause of mankind. + +There is, therefore, no reason to doubt that these men were honest, +when they said that they were combating, not in their own cause +merely, but in that of humanity; and that the Church was combating +in her own cause, and that of her power and privilege. The Church +replied that she, too, was combating for humanity; for its moral and +eternal well-being. But that is just what the philosophes denied. +They said (and it is but fair to take a statement which appears on +the face of all their writings; which is the one key-note on which +they ring perpetual changes), that the cause of the Church in France +was not that of humanity, but of inhumanity; not that of nature, but +of unnature; not even that of grace, but of disgrace. Truely or +falsely, they complained that the French clergy had not only +identified themselves with the repression of free thought, and of +physical science, especially that of the Newtonian astronomy, but +that they had proved themselves utterly unfit, for centuries past, +to exercise any censorship whatsoever over the thoughts of men: +that they had identified themselves with the cause of darkness, not +of light; with persecution and torture, with the dragonnades of +Louis XIV., with the murder of Calas and of Urban Grandier; with +celibacy, hysteria, demonology, witchcraft, and the shameful public +scandals, like those of Gauffredi, Grandier, and Pere Giraud, which +had arisen out of mental disease; with forms of worship which seemed +to them (rightly or wrongly) idolatry, and miracles which seemed to +them (rightly or wrongly) impostures; that the clergy interfered +perpetually with the sanctity of family life, as well as with the +welfare of the state; that their evil counsels, and specially those +of the Jesuits, had been patent and potent causes of much of the +misrule and misery of Louis XIV.'s and XV.'s reigns; and that with +all these heavy counts against them, their morality was not such as +to make other men more moral; and was not--at least among the +hierarchy--improving, or likely to improve. To a Mazarin, a De +Retz, a Richelieu (questionable men enough) had succeeded a Dubois, +a Rohan, a Lomenie de Brienne, a Maury, a Talleyrand; and at the +revolution of 1789 thoughtful Frenchmen asked, once and for all, +what was to be done with a Church of which these were the +hierophants? + +Whether these complaints affected the French Church as a "religious" +institution, must depend entirely on the meaning which is attached +to the word "religion": that they affected her on scientific, +rational, and moral grounds, independent of any merely political +one, is as patent as that the attack based on them was one-sided, +virulent, and often somewhat hypocritical, considering the private +morals of many of the assailants. We know--or ought to know--that +within that religion which seemed to the philosophes (so distorted +and defaced had it become) a nightmare dream, crushing the life out +of mankind, there lie elements divine, eternal; necessary for man in +this life and the life to come. But we are bound to ask--Had they a +fair chance of knowing what we know? Have we proof that their +hatred was against all religion, or only against that which they saw +around them? Have we proof that they would have equally hated, had +they been in permanent contact with them, creeds more free from +certain faults which seemed to them, in the case of the French +Church, ineradicable and inexpiable? Till then we must have +charity--which is justice--even for the philosophes of the +eighteenth century. + +This view of the case had been surely overlooked by M. de +Tocqueville, when he tried to explain by the fear of revolutions, +the fact that both in America and in England, "while the boldest +political doctrines of the eighteenth-century philosophers have been +adopted, their anti-religious doctrines have made no way." + +He confesses that, "Among the English, French irreligious philosophy +had been preached, even before the greater part of the French +philosophers were born. It was Bolingbroke who set up Voltaire. +Throughout the eighteenth century infidelity had celebrated +champions in England. Able writers and profound thinkers espoused +that cause, but they were never able to render it triumphant as in +France." Of these facts there can be no doubt: but the cause which +he gives for the failure of infidelity will surely sound new and +strange to those who know the English literature and history of that +century. It was, he says, "inasmuch as all those who had anything +to fear from revolutions, eagerly came to the rescue of the +established faith." Surely there was no talk of revolutions; no +wish, expressed or concealed, to overthrow either government or +society, in the aristocratic clique to whom English infidelity was +confined. Such was, at least, the opinion of Voltaire, who boasted +that "All the works of the modern philosophers together would never +make as much noise in the world as was made in former days by the +disputes of the Cordeliers about the shape of their sleeves and +hoods." If (as M. de Tocqueville says) Bolingbroke set up Voltaire, +neither master nor pupil had any more leaning than Hobbes had toward +a democracy which was not dreaded in those days because it had never +been heard of. And if (as M. de Tocqueville heartily allows) the +English apologists of Christianity triumphed, at least for the time +being, the cause of their triumph must be sought in the plain fact +that such men as Berkeley, Butler, and Paley, each according to his +light, fought the battle fairly, on the common ground of reason and +philosophy, instead of on that of tradition and authority; and that +the forms of Christianity current in England--whether Quaker, +Puritan, or Anglican--offended, less than that current in France, +the common-sense and the human instincts of the many, or of the +sceptics themselves.] + +But the eighteenth century saw another movement, all the more +powerful, perhaps, because it was continually changing its shape, +even its purpose; and gaining fresh life and fresh adherents with +every change. Propagated at first by men of the school of Locke, it +became at last a protest against the materialism of that school, on +behalf of all that is, or calls itself, supernatural and mysterious. +Abjuring, and honestly, all politics, it found itself sucked into +the political whirlpool in spite of itself, as all human interests +which have any life in them must be at last. It became an active +promoter of the Revolution; then it helped to destroy the +Revolution, when that had, under Napoleon, become a levelling +despotism; then it helped, as actively, to keep revolutionary +principles alive, after the reaction of 1815:--a Protean +institution, whose power we in England are as apt to undervalue as +the governments of the Continent were apt, during the eighteenth +century, to exaggerate it. I mean, of course, Freemasonry, and the +secret societies which, honestly and honourably disowned by +Freemasonry, yet have either copied it, or actually sprung out of +it. In England, Freemasonry never was, it seems, more than a +liberal and respectable benefit-club; for secret societies are +needless for any further purposes, amid free institutions and a free +press. But on the Continent during the eighteenth century, +Freemasonry excited profound suspicion and fear on the part of +statesmen who knew perfectly well their friends from their foes; and +whose precautions were, from their point of view, justified by the +results. + +I shall not enter into the deep question of the origin of +Freemasonry. One uninitiate, as I am, has no right to give an +opinion on the great questions of the mediaeval lodge of Kilwinning +and its Scotch degrees; on the seven Templars, who, after poor +Jacques Molay was burnt at Paris, took refuge on the Isle of Mull, +in Scotland, found there another Templar and brother Mason, +ominously named Harris; took to the trowel in earnest, and revived +the Order;--on the Masons who built Magdeburg Cathedral in 876; on +the English Masons assembled in Pagan times by "St. Albone, that +worthy knight;" on the revival of English Masonry by Edwin, son of +Athelstan; on Magnus Grecus, who had been at the building of +Solomon's Temple, and taught Masonry to Charles Martel; on the +pillars Jachin and Boaz; on the masonry of Hiram of Tyre, and indeed +of Adam himself, of whose first fig-leaf the masonic apron may be a +type--on all these matters I dare no more decide than on the making +of the Trojan Horse, the birth of Romulus and Remus, or the +incarnation of Vishnoo. + +All I dare say is, that Freemasonry emerges in its present form into +history and fact, seemingly about the beginning of George I.'s +reign, among Englishmen and noblemen, notably in four lodges in the +city of London: (1) at The Goose and Gridiron alehouse in St. +Paul's Churchyard; (2) at The Crown alehouse near Drury Lane; (3) at +The Apple Tree tavern near Covent Garden; (4) at The Rummer and +Grapes tavern, in Charnel Row, Westminster. That its principles +were brotherly love and good fellowship, which included in those +days port, sherry, claret, and punch; that it was founded on the +ground of mere humanity, in every sense of the word; being (as was +to be expected from the temper of the times) both aristocratic and +liberal, admitting to its ranks virtuous gentlemen "obliged," says +an old charge, "only to that religion wherein all men agree, leaving +their particular opinions to themselves: that is, to be good men +and true, or men of honour and honesty, by whatever denominations or +persuasions they may be distinguished; whereby Masonry becomes the +centre of union and means of conciliating true friendship among +persons that otherwise must have remained at a distance." + +Little did the honest gentlemen who established or re-established +their society on these grounds, and fenced it with quaint +ceremonies, old or new, conceive the importance of their own act; +we, looking at it from a distance, may see all that such a society +involved, which was quite new to the world just then; and see, that +it was the very child of the Ancien Regime--of a time when men were +growing weary of the violent factions, political and spiritual, +which had torn Europe in pieces for more than a century, and longed +to say: "After all, we are all alike in one thing--for we are at +least men." + +Its spread through England and Scotland, and the seceding bodies +which arose from it, as well as the supposed Jacobite tendency of +certain Scotch lodges, do not concern us here. The point +interesting to us just now is, that Freemasonry was imported to the +Continent exclusively by English and Scotch gentlemen and noblemen. +Lord Derwentwater is said by some to have founded the "Loge +Anglaise" in Paris in 1725; the Duke of Richmond one in his own +castle of Aubigny shortly after. It was through Hanoverian +influence that the movement seems to have spread into Germany. In +1733, for instance, the English Grand Master, Lord Strathmore, +permitted eleven German gentlemen and good brethren to form a lodge +in Hamburg. Into this English Society was Frederick the Great, when +Crown Prince, initiated, in spite of strict old Frederick William's +objections, who had heard of it as an English invention of +irreligious tendency. Francis I. of Austria was made a Freemason at +the Hague, Lord Chesterfield being in the chair, and then became a +Master in London under the name of "Brother Lothringen," to the +discontent of Maria Theresa, whose woman's wit saw farther than her +husband. Englishmen and Scotchmen introduced the new society into +Russia and into Geneva. Sweden and Poland seem to have received it +from France; while, in the South, it seems to have been exclusively +an English plant. Sackville, Duke of Middlesex, is said to have +founded the first lodge at Florence in 1733, Lord Coleraine at +Gibraltar and Madrid, one Gordon in Portugal; and everywhere, at the +commencement of the movement, we find either London or Scotland the +mother-lodges, introducing on the Continent those liberal and humane +ideas of which England was then considered, to her glory, as the +only home left on earth. + +But, alas! the seed sown grew up into strange shapes, according to +the soil in which it rooted. False doctrine, heresy, and schism, +according to Herr Findel, the learned and rational historian whom I +have chiefly followed, defiled the new Church from its infancy. "In +France," so he bemoans himself, "first of all there shot up that +baneful seed of lies and frauds, of vanity and presumption, of +hatred and discord, the mischievous high degrees; the misstatement +that our order was allied to the Templars, and existed at the time +of the Crusades; the removal of old charges, the bringing in +surreptitiously of a multitude of symbols and forms which awoke the +love of secrecy; knighthood; and, in fact, all which tended to +poison Freemasonry." Herr Findel seems to attribute these evils +principally to the "high degrees." It would have been more simple +to have attributed them to the morals of the French noblesse in the +days of Louis Quinze. What could a corrupt tree bring forth, but +corrupt fruit? If some of the early lodges, like those of "La +Felicite" and "L'Ancre," to which women were admitted, resembled not +a little the Bacchic mysteries of old Rome, and like them called for +the interference of the police, still no great reform was to be +expected, when those Sovereign Masonic Princes, the "Emperors of the +East and West," quarrelled--knights of the East against knights of +the West--till they were absorbed or crushed by the Lodge "Grand +Orient," with Philippe Egalite, Duc de Chartres, as their grand +master, and as his representative, the hero of the diamond necklace, +and disciple of Count Cagliostro--Louis, Prince de Rohan. + +But if Freemasonry, among the frivolous and sensual French noblesse, +became utterly frivolous and sensual itself, it took a deeper, +though a questionably fantastic form, among the more serious and +earnest German nobility. Forgetful as they too often were of their +duty to their peoples--tyrannical, extravagant, debauched by French +opinions, French fashions, French luxuries, till they had begun to +despise their native speech, their native literature, almost their +native land, and to hide their native homeliness under a clumsy +varnish of French outside civilisation, which the years 1807-13 +rubbed off them again with a brush of iron--they were yet Germans at +heart; and that German instinct for the unseen--call it enthusiasm, +mysticism, what you will, you cannot make it anything but a human +fact, and a most powerful, and (as I hold) most blessed fact--that +instinct for the unseen, I say, which gives peculiar value to German +philosophy, poetry, art, religion, and above all to German family +life, and which is just the complement needed to prevent our English +common-sense, matter-of-fact Lockism from degenerating into +materialism--that was only lying hidden, but not dead, in the German +spirit. + +With the Germans, therefore, Freemasonry assumed a nobler and more +earnest shape. Dropping, very soon, that Lockite and Philosophe +tone which had perhaps recommended it to Frederick the Great in his +youth, it became mediaevalist and mystic. It craved after a +resuscitation of old chivalrous spirit, and the virtues of the +knightly ideal, and the old German biederkeit und tapferkeit, which +were all defiled and overlaid by French fopperies. And not in vain; +as no struggle after a noble aim, however confused or fantastic, is +ever in vain. Freemasonry was the direct parent of the Tugenbund, +and of those secret societies which freed Germany from Napoleon. +Whatever follies young members of them may have committed; whatever +Jahn and his Turnerei; whatever the iron youths, with their iron +decorations and iron boot-heels; whatever, in a word, may have been +said or done amiss, in that childishness which (as their own wisest +writers often lament) so often defaces the noble childlikeness of +the German spirit, let it be always remembered that under the +impulse first given by Freemasonry, as much as that given by such +heroes as Stein and Scharnhorst, Germany shook off the chains which +had fallen on her in her sleep; and stood once more at Leipsic, were +it but for a moment, a free people alike in body and in soul. + +Remembering this, and the solid benefits which Germany owed to +Masonic influences, one shrinks from saying much of the +extravagances in which its Masonry indulged before the French +Revolution. Yet they are so characteristic of the age, so +significant to the student of human nature, that they must be hinted +at, though not detailed. + +It is clear that Masonry was at first a movement confined to the +aristocracy, or at least to the most educated classes; and clear, +too, that it fell in with a temper of mind unsatisfied with the dry +dogmatism into which the popular creeds had then been frozen-- +unsatisfied with their own Frenchified foppery and pseudo- +philosophy--unsatisfied with want of all duty, purpose, noble +thought, or noble work. With such a temper of mind it fell in: but +that very temper was open (as it always is) to those dreams of a +royal road to wisdom and to virtue, which have haunted, in all ages, +the luxurious and the idle. + +Those who will, may read enough, and too much, of the wonderful +secrets in nature and science and theosophy, which men expected to +find and did not find in the higher degrees of Masonry, till old +Voss--the translator of Homer--had to confess, that after "trying +for eleven years to attain a perfect knowledge of the inmost +penetralia, where the secret is said to be, and of its invisible +guardians," all he knew was that "the documents which he had to make +known to the initiated were nothing more than a well got-up farce." + +But the mania was general. The high-born and the virtuous expected +to discover some panacea for their own consciences in what Voss +calls, "A multitude of symbols, which are ever increasing the +farther you penetrate, and are made to have a moral application +through some arbitrary twisting of their meaning, as if I were to +attempt expounding the chaos on my writing-desk." + +A rich harvest-field was an aristocracy in such a humour, for quacks +of every kind; richer even than that of France, in that the Germans +were at once more honest and more earnest, and therefore to be +robbed more easily. The carcass was there: and the birds of prey +were gathered together. + +Of Rosa, with his lodge of the Three Hammers, and his Potsdam gold- +making;--of Johnson, alias Leuchte, who passed himself off as a +Grand Prior sent from Scotland to resuscitate the order of Knights +Templars; who informed his disciples that the Grand Master Von Hund +commanded 26,000 men; that round the convent (what convent, does not +appear) a high wall was erected, which was guarded day and night; +that the English navy was in the hands of the Order; that they had +MSS. written by Hugo de Paganis (a mythic hero who often figures in +these fables); that their treasure was in only three places in the +world, in Ballenstadt, in the icy mountains of Savoy, and in China; +that whosoever drew on himself the displeasure of the Order, +perished both body and soul; who degraded his rival Rosa to the +sound of military music, and after having had, like every dog, his +day, died in prison in the Wartburg;--of the Rosicrucians, who were +accused of wanting to support and advance the Catholic religion--one +would think the accusation was very unnecessary, seeing that their +actual dealings were with the philosopher's stone, and the exorcism +of spirits: and that the first apostle of the new golden +Rosicrucian order, one Schropfer, getting into debt, and fearing +exposure, finished his life in an altogether un-catholic manner at +Leipsic in 1774, by shooting himself;--of Keller and his Urim and +Thummim;--of Wollner (who caught the Crown Prince Frederick William) +with his three names of Chrysophiron, Heliconus, and Ophiron, and +his fourth name of Ormesus Magnus, under which all the brethren were +to offer up for him solemn prayers and intercessions;--of Baron +Heinrich von Ekker and Eckenhofen, gentleman of the bed-chamber and +counsellor of the Duke of Coburg Saalfeld, and his Jewish colleague +Hirschmann, with their Asiatic brethren and order named Ben Bicca, +Cabalistic and Talmudic; of the Illuminati, and poor Adam +Weisshaupt, Professor of Canon and National Law at Ingoldstadt in +Bavaria, who set up what he considered an Anti-Jesuitical order on a +Jesuit model, with some vague hope, according to his own showing, of +"perfecting the reasoning powers interesting to mankind, spreading +the knowledge of sentiments both humane and social, checking wicked +inclinations, standing up for oppressed and suffering virtue against +all wrong, promoting the advancement of men of merit, and in every +way facilitating the acquirement of knowledge and science;"--of this +honest silly man, and his attempts to carry out all his fine +projects by calling himself Spartacus, Bavaria Achaia, Austria +Egypt, Vienna Rome, and so forth;--of Knigge, who picked his honest +brains, quarrelled with him, and then made money and fame out of his +plans, for as long as they lasted;--of Bode, the knight of the +lilies of the valley, who, having caught Duke Ernest of Saxe Gotha, +was himself caught by Knigge, and his eight, nine, or more ascending +orders of unwisdom;--and finally of the Jesuits who, really with +considerable excuses for their severity, fell upon these poor +foolish Illuminati in 1784 throughout Bavaria, and had them exiled +or imprisoned;--of all this you may read in the pages of Dr. Findel, +and in many another book. For, forgotten as they are now, they made +noise enough in their time. + +And so it befell, that this eighteenth century, which is usually +held to be the most "materialistic" of epochs, was, in fact, a most +"spiritualistic" one; in which ghosts, demons, quacks, philosophers' +stones, enchanters' wands, mysteries and mummeries, were as +fashionable--as they will probably be again some day. + +You have all heard of Cagliostro--"pupil of the sage Althotas, +foster-child of the Scheriff of Mecca, probable son of the last king +of Trebizond; named also Acharat, and 'Unfortunate child of Nature;' +by profession healer of diseases, abolisher of wrinkles, friend of +the poor and impotent; grand-master of the Egyptian Mason-lodge of +High Science, spirit-summoner, gold-cook, Grand-Cophta, prophet, +priest, Thaumaturgic moralist, and swindler"--born Giuseppe Balsamo +of Palermo;--of him, and of his lovely Countess Seraphina--nee +Lorenza Feliciani? You have read what Goethe--and still more +important, what Mr. Carlyle has written on him, as on one of the +most significant personages of the age? Remember, then, that +Cagliostro was no isolated phenomenon; that his success--nay, his +having even conceived the possibility of success in the brain that +lay within that "brass-faced, bull-necked, thick-lipped" head--was +made possible by public opinion. Had Cagliostro lived in our time, +public opinion would have pointed out to him other roads to honour-- +on which he would doubtless have fared as well. For when the silly +dace try to be caught and hope to be caught, he is a foolish pike +who cannot gorge them. But the method most easy for a pike-nature +like Cagliostro's, was in the eighteenth century, as it may be in +the latter half of the nineteenth, to trade, in a materialist age, +on the unsatisfied spiritual cravings of mankind. For what do all +these phantasms betoken, but a generation ashamed of its own +materialism, sensuality, insincerity, ignorance, and striving to +escape therefrom by any and every mad superstition which seemed +likely to give an answer to the awful questions--What are we, and +where? and to lay to rest those instincts of the unseen and infinite +around it, which tormented it like ghosts by day and night: a sight +ludicrous or pathetic, according as it is looked on by a cynical or +a human spirit. + +It is easy to call such a phenomenon absurd, improbable. It is +rather rational, probable, say certain to happen. Rational, I say; +for the reason of man tells him, and has always told him, that he is +a supernatural being, if by nature is meant that which is cognisable +by his five senses: that his coming into this world, his relation +to it, his exit from it--which are the three most important facts +about him--are supernatural, not to be explained by any deductions +from the impressions of his senses. And I make bold to say, that +the recent discoveries of physical science--notably those of +embryology--go only to justify that old and general belief of man. +If man be told that the microscope and scalpel show no difference, +in the first stage of visible existence, between him and the lower +mammals, then he has a right to answer--as he will answer--So much +the worse for the microscope and scalpel: so much the better for my +old belief, that there is beneath my birth, life, death, a +substratum of supernatural causes, imponderable, invisible, +unknowable by any physical science whatsoever. If you cannot render +me a reason how I came hither, and what I am, I must go to those who +will render me one. And if that craving be not satisfied by a +rational theory of life, it will demand satisfaction from some +magical theory; as did the mind of the eighteenth century when, +revolting from materialism, it fled to magic, to explain the ever- +astounding miracle of life. + +The old Regime. Will our age, in its turn, ever be spoken of as an +old Regime? Will it ever be spoken of as a Regime at all; as an +organised, orderly system of society and polity; and not merely as a +chaos, an anarchy, a transitory struggle, of which the money-lender +has been the real guide and lord? + +But at least it will be spoken of as an age of progress, of rapid +developments, of astonishing discoveries. + +Are you so sure of that? There was an age of progress once. But +what is our age--what is all which has befallen since 1815--save +after-swells of that great storm, which are weakening and lulling +into heavy calm? Are we on the eve of stagnation? Of a long check +to the human intellect? Of a new Byzantine era, in which little men +will discuss, and ape, the deeds which great men did in their +forefathers' days? + +What progress--it is a question which some will receive with almost +angry surprise--what progress has the human mind made since 1815? + +If the thought be startling, do me the great honour of taking it +home, and verifying for yourselves its truth or its falsehood. I do +not say that it is altogether true. No proposition concerning human +things, stated so broadly, can be. But see for yourselves, whether +it is not at least more true than false; whether the ideas, the +discoveries, of which we boast most in the nineteenth century, are +not really due to the end of the eighteenth. Whether other men did +not labour, and we have only entered into their labours. Whether +our positivist spirit, our content with the collecting of facts, our +dread of vast theories, is not a symptom--wholesome, prudent, +modest, but still a symptom--of our consciousness that we are not as +our grandfathers were; that we can no longer conceive great ideas, +which illumine, for good or evil, the whole mind and heart of man, +and drive him on to dare and suffer desperately. + +Railroads? Electric telegraphs? All honour to them in their place: +but they are not progress; they are only the fruits of past +progress. No outward and material thing is progress; no machinery +causes progress; it merely spreads and makes popular the results of +progress. Progress is inward, of the soul. And, therefore, +improved constitutions, and improved book instruction--now miscalled +education--are not progress: they are at best only fruits and signs +thereof. For they are outward, material; and progress, I say, is +inward. The self-help and self-determination of the independent +soul--that is the root of progress; and the more human beings who +have that, the more progress there is in the world. Give me a man +who, though he can neither read nor write, yet dares think for +himself, and do the thing he believes: that man will help forward +the human race more than any thousand men who have read, or written +either, a thousand books apiece, but have not dared to think for +themselves. And better for his race, and better, I believe, in the +sight of God, the confusions and mistakes of that one sincere brave +man, than the second-hand and cowardly correctness of all the +thousand. + +As for the "triumphs of science," let us honour, with astonishment +and awe, the genius of those who invented them; but let us remember +that the things themselves are as a gun or a sword, with which we +can kill our enemy, but with which also our enemy can kill us. Like +all outward and material things, they are equally fit for good and +for evil. In England here--they have been as yet, as far as I can +see, nothing but blessings: but I have my very serious doubts +whether they are likely to be blessings to the whole human race, for +many an age to come. I can conceive them--may God avert the omen!-- +the instruments of a more crushing executive centralisation, of a +more utter oppression of the bodies and souls of men, than the world +has yet seen. I can conceive--may God avert the omen!--centuries +hence, some future world-ruler sitting at the junction of all +railroads, at the centre of all telegraph-wires--a world-spider in +the omphalos of his world-wide web; and smiting from thence +everything that dared to lift its head, or utter a cry of pain, with +a swiftness and surety to which the craft of a Justinian or a Philip +II. were but clumsy and impotent. + +All, all outward things, be sure of it, are good or evil, exactly as +far as they are in the hands of good men or of bad. + +Moreover, paradoxical as it may seem, railroads and telegraphs, +instead of inaugurating an era of progress, may possibly only retard +it. "Rester sur un grand succes," which was Rossini's advice to a +young singer who had achieved a triumph, is a maxim which the world +often follows, not only from prudence, but from necessity. They +have done so much that it seems neither prudent nor possible to do +more. They will rest and be thankful. + +Thus, gunpowder and printing made rapid changes enough; but those +changes had no farther development. The new art of war, the new art +of literature, remained stationary, or rather receded and +degenerated, till the end of the eighteenth century. + +And so it may be with our means of locomotion and intercommunion, +and what depends on them. The vast and unprecedented amount of +capital, of social interest, of actual human intellect invested--I +may say locked up--in these railroads, and telegraphs, and other +triumphs of industry and science, will not enter into competition +against themselves. They will not set themselves free to seek new +discoveries in directions which are often actually opposed to their +own, always foreign to it. If the money of thousands are locked up +in these great works, the brains of hundreds of thousands, and of +the very shrewdest too, are equally locked up therein likewise; and +are to be subtracted from the gross material of social development, +and added (without personal fault of their owners, who may be very +good men) to the dead weight of vested selfishness, ignorance, and +dislike of change. + +Yes. A Byzantine and stationary age is possible yet. Perhaps we +are now entering upon it; an age in which mankind shall be satisfied +with the "triumphs of science," and shall look merely to the +greatest comfort (call it not happiness) of the greatest number; and +like the debased Jews of old, "having found the life of their hand, +be therewith content," no matter in what mud-hole of slavery and +superstition. + +But one hope there is, and more than a hope--one certainty, that +however satisfied enlightened public opinion may become with the +results of science, and the progress of the human race, there will +be always a more enlightened private opinion or opinions, which will +not be satisfied therewith at all; a few men of genius, a few +children of light, it may be a few persecuted, and a few martyrs for +new truths, who will wish the world not to rest and be thankful, but +to be discontented with itself, ashamed of itself, striving and +toiling upward, without present hope of gain, till it has reached +that unknown goal which Bacon saw afar off, and like all other +heroes, died in faith, not having received the promises, but seeking +still a polity which has foundations, whose builder and maker is +God. + +These will be the men of science, whether physical or spiritual. +Not merely the men who utilise and apply that which is known (useful +as they plainly are), but the men who themselves discover that which +was unknown, and are generally deemed useless, if not hurtful, to +their race. They will keep the sacred lamp burning unobserved in +quiet studies, while all the world is gazing only at the gaslights +flaring in the street. They will pass that lamp on from hand to +hand, modestly, almost stealthily, till the day comes round again, +when the obscure student shall be discovered once more to be, as he +has always been, the strongest man on earth. For they follow a +mistress whose footsteps may often slip, yet never fall; for she +walks forward on the eternal facts of Nature, which are the acted +will of God. A giantess she is; young indeed, but humble as yet: +cautious and modest beyond her years. She is accused of trying to +scale Olympus, by some who fancy that they have already scaled it +themselves, and will, of course, brook no rival in their fancied +monopoly of wisdom. + +The accusation, I believe, is unjust. And yet science may scale +Olympus after all. Without intending it, almost without knowing it, +she may find herself hereafter upon a summit of which she never +dreamed; surveying the universe of God in the light of Him who made +it and her, and remakes them both for ever and ever. On that summit +she may stand hereafter, if only she goes on, as she goes now, in +humility and in patience; doing the duty which lies nearest her; +lured along the upward road, not by ambition, vanity, or greed, but +by reverent curiosity for every new pebble, and flower, and child, +and savage, around her feet. + + + +Footnotes: + +{1} Mr. H. Reeve's translation of De Tocqueville's "France before +the Revolution of 1789." p. 280. + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg eText The Ancien Regime diff --git a/old/anrgm10.zip b/old/anrgm10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..762735a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/anrgm10.zip diff --git a/old/ucity10.txt b/old/ucity10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e2e02c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ucity10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5781 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext's of The Underground City by Jules Verne +#8 in our series by Jules Verne + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. 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[_Off on +a Comet_, transmitted as a separate file earlier, constitutes pp. +1-276 of Vol. 9.] + + + + + +The Underground City + +OR + +The Black Indies +(Sometimes Called The Child of the Cavern) + + + + +The Underground City + +CHAPTER I +CONTRADICTORY LETTERS + + +To Mr. F. R. Starr, Engineer, 30 Canongate, Edinburgh. + +IF Mr. James Starr will come to-morrow to the Aberfoyle coal-mines, +Dochart pit, Yarrow shaft, a communication of an interesting nature +will be made to him. + +"Mr. James Starr will be awaited for, the whole day, +at the Callander station, by Harry Ford, son of the old +overman Simon Ford." + +"He is requested to keep this invitation secret." + +Such was the letter which James Starr received by the first post, +on the 3rd December, 18--, the letter bearing the Aberfoyle postmark, +county of Stirling, Scotland. + +The engineer's curiosity was excited to the highest pitch. +It never occurred to him to doubt whether this letter might +not be a hoax. For many years he had known Simon Ford, +one of the former foremen of the Aberfoyle mines, of which he, +James Starr, had for twenty years, been the manager, or, +as he would be termed in English coal-mines, the viewer. +James Starr was a strongly-constituted man, on whom his fifty-five +years weighed no more heavily than if they had been forty. +He belonged to an old Edinburgh family, and was one of its +most distinguished members. His labors did credit to the body +of engineers who are gradually devouring the carboniferous +subsoil of the United Kingdom, as much at Cardiff and Newcastle, +as in the southern counties of Scotland. However, it was more +particularly in the depths of the mysterious mines of Aberfoyle, +which border on the Alloa mines and occupy part of the county +of Stirling, that the name of Starr had acquired the greatest renown. +There, the greater part of his existence had been passed. +Besides this, James Starr belonged to the Scottish Antiquarian Society, +of which he had been made president. He was also included +amongst the most active members of the Royal Institution; and the +Edinburgh Review frequently published clever articles signed by him. +He was in fact one of those practical men to whom is due the prosperity +of England. He held a high rank in the old capital of Scotland, +which not only from a physical but also from a moral point of view, +well deserves the name of the Northern Athens. + +We know that the English have given to their vast extent of +coal-mines a very significant name. They very justly call them +the "Black Indies," and these Indies have contributed perhaps +even more than the Eastern Indies to swell the surprising wealth +of the United Kingdom. + +At this period, the limit of time assigned by professional men +for the exhaustion of coal-mines was far distant and there was +no dread of scarcity. There were still extensive mines to be +worked in the two Americas. The manu-factories, appropriated +to so many different uses, locomotives, steamers, gas works, +&c., were not likely to fail for want of the mineral fuel; +but the consumption had so increased during the last few years, +that certain beds had been exhausted even to their smallest veins. +Now deserted, these mines perforated the ground with their +useless shafts and forsaken galleries. This was exactly the case +with the pits of Aberfoyle. + +Ten years before, the last butty had raised the last ton of coal +from this colliery. The underground working stock, traction engines, +trucks which run on rails along the galleries, subterranean tramways, +frames to support the shaft, pipes--in short, all that constituted +the machinery of a mine had been brought up from its depths. +The exhausted mine was like the body of a huge fantastically-shaped +mastodon, from which all the organs of life have been taken, +and only the skeleton remains. + +Nothing was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft--the only +one which now gave access to the lower galleries of the Dochart pit. +Above ground, the sheds, formerly sheltering the outside works, +still marked the spot where the shaft of that pit had been sunk, +it being now abandoned, as were the other pits, of which the whole +constituted the mines of Aberfoyle. + +It was a sad day, when for the last time the workmen quitted the mine, +in which they had lived for so many years. The engineer, James Starr, +had collected the hundreds of + +workmen which composed the active and courageous population of the mine. +Overmen, brakemen, putters, wastemen, barrowmen, masons, smiths, +carpenters, outside and inside laborers, women, children, and old men, +all were collected in the great yard of the Dochart pit, formerly heaped +with coal from the mine. + +Many of these families had existed for generations in the mine +of old Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means +of subsistence elsewhere, and they waited sadly to bid farewell +to the engineer. + +James Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he had +for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft. +Simon Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of age, +and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took +off his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence. +This farewell scene was of a touching character, not wanting in grandeur. + +"My friends," said the engineer, "the time has come for us to separate. +The Aberfoyle mines, which for so many years have united us +in a common work, are now exhausted. All our researches +have not led to the discovery of a new vein, and the last +block of coal has just been extracted from the Dochart pit." +And in confirmation of his words, James Starr pointed to a lump +of coal which had been kept at the bottom of a basket. + +"This piece of coal, my friends," resumed James Starr, "is like the +last drop of blood which has flowed through the veins of the mine! +We shall keep it, as the first fragment of coal is kept, +which was extracted a hundred and fifty years ago from the bearings +of Aberfoyle. Between these two pieces, how many generations +of workmen have succeeded each other in our pits! Now, it is over! +The last words which your engineer will address to you are a farewell. +You have lived in this mine, which your hands have emptied. +The work has been hard, but not without profit for you. +Our great family must disperse, and it is not probable +that the future will ever again unite the scattered members. +But do not forget that we have lived together for a long time, +and that it will be the duty of the miners of Aberfoyle to help +each other. Your old masters will not forget you either. + +When men have worked together, they must never be stranger +to each other again. + +We shall keep our eye on you, and wherever you go, +our recommendations shall follow you. Farewell then, my friends, +and may Heaven be with you!" + +So saying, James Starr wrung the horny hand of the oldest miner, +whose eyes were dim with tears. Then the overmen of the different +pits came forward to shake hands with him, whilst the miners +waved their caps, shouting, "Farewell, James Starr, our master +and our friend!" + +This farewell would leave a lasting remembrance in all these +honest hearts. Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard. +The black soil of the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded +for the last time to the tread of miners' feet, and silence +succeeded to the bustling life which had till then filled +the Aberfoyle mines. + +One man alone remained by James Starr. This was the overman, +Simon Ford. Near him stood a boy, about fifteen years of age, +who for some years already had been employed down below. + +James Starr and Simon Ford knew and esteemed each other well. +"Good-by, Simon," said the engineer. + +"Good-by, Mr. Starr," replied the overman, "let me add, +till we meet again!" + +"Yes, till we meet again. Ford!" answered James Starr. "You know +that I shall be always glad to see you, and talk over old times." + +"I know that, Mr. Starr." + + +"My house in Edinburgh is always open to you." + +"It's a long way off, is Edinburgh!" answered the man shaking his head. +"Ay, a long way from the Dochart pit." + +"A long way, Simon? Where do you mean to live?" + +"Even here, Mr. Starr! We're not going to leave the mine, +our good old nurse, just because her milk is dried up! +My wife, my boy, and myself, we mean to remain faithful to her!" + +"Good-by then, Simon," replied the engineer, whose voice, +in spite of himself, betrayed some emotion. + +"No, I tell you, it's TILL WE MEET AGAIN, Mr. Starr, +and not Just 'good-by,'" returned the foreman. "Mark my words, +Aberfoyle will see you again!" + +The engineer did not try to dispel the man's illusion. He + +patted Harry's head, again wrung the father's hand, and left the mine. + +All this had taken place ten years ago; but, notwithstanding the wish +which the overman had expressed to see him again, during that time +Starr had heard nothing of him. It was after ten years of separation +that he got this letter from Simon Ford, requesting him to take without +delay the road to the old Aberfoyle colliery. + +A communication of an interesting nature, what could it be? +Dochart pit. Yarrow shaft! What recollections of the past +these names brought back to him! Yes, that was a fine time, +that of work, of struggle,--the best part of the engineer's life. +Starr re-read his letter. He pondered over it in all its bearings. +He much regretted that just a line more had not been added +by Ford. He wished he had not been quite so laconic. + +Was it possible that the old foreman had discovered some +new vein? No! Starr remembered with what minute care the mines +had been explored before the definite cessation of the works. +He had himself proceeded to the lowest soundings without finding +the least trace in the soil, burrowed in every direction. +They had even attempted to find coal under strata which are usually +below it, such as the Devonian red sandstone, but without result. +James Starr had therefore abandoned the mine with the absolute +conviction that it did not contain another bit of coal. + +"No," he repeated, "no! How is it possible that anything +which could have escaped my researches, should be revealed +to those of Simon Ford. However, the old overman must well +know that such a discovery would be the one thing in the world +to interest me, and this invitation, which I must keep secret, +to repair to the Dochart pit!" James Starr always came +back to that. + +On the other hand, the engineer knew Ford to be a clever miner, +peculiarly endowed with the instinct of his trade. +He had not seen him since the time when the Aberfoyle +colliery was abandoned, and did not know either what he was +doing or where he was living, with his wife and his son. +All that he now knew was, that a rendezvous had been appointed +him at the Yarrow shaft, and that Harry, Simon Ford's son, +was to wait for him during the whole of the next day at +the Callander station. + + +"I shall go, I shall go!" said Starr, his excitement increasing +as the time drew near. + +Our worthy engineer belonged to that class of men whose brain is always +on the boil, like a kettle on a hot fire. In some of these brain +kettles the ideas bubble over, in others they just simmer quietly. +Now on this day, James Starr's ideas were boiling fast. + +But suddenly an unexpected incident occurred. This was the drop of cold +water, which in a moment was to condense all the vapors of the brain. +About six in the evening, by the third post, Starr's servant brought +him a second letter. This letter was enclosed in a coarse envelope, +and evidently directed by a hand unaccustomed to the use of a pen. +James Starr tore it open. It contained only a scrap of paper, +yellowed by time, and apparently torn out of an old copy book. + +On this paper was written a single sentence, thus worded: + +"It is useless for the engineer James Starr to trouble himself, +Simon Ford's letter being now without object." + +No signature. + + +CHAPTER II ON THE ROAD + + +THE course of James Starr's ideas was abruptly stopped, +when he got this second letter contradicting the first. + +"What does this mean?" said he to himself. He took up the torn envelope, +and examined it. Like the other, it bore the Aberfoyle postmark. +It had therefore come from the same part of the county of Stirling. +The old miner had evidently not written it. But, no less evidently, +the author of this second letter knew the overman's secret, +since it expressly contradicted the invitation to the engineer to go +to the Yarrow shaft. + +Was it really true that the first communication was now without object? +Did someone wish to prevent James Starr from troubling himself either +uselessly or otherwise? Might there not be rather a malevolent intention +to thwart Ford's plans? + +This was the conclusion at which James Starr arrived, +after mature reflection. The contradiction which existed +between the two letters only wrought in him a more keen + +desire to visit the Dochart pit. And besides, if after all it was +a hoax, it was well worth while to prove it. Starr also thought it +wiser to give more credence to the first letter than to the second; +that is to say, to the request of such a man as Simon Ford, +rather than to the warning of his anonymous contradictor. + +"Indeed," said he, "the fact of anyone endeavoring to influence my +resolution, shows that Ford's communication must be of great importance. +To-morrow, at the appointed time, I shall be at the rendezvous." + +In the evening, Starr made his preparations for departure. +As it might happen that his absence would be prolonged for some days, +he wrote to Sir W. Elphiston, President of the Royal Institution, +that he should be unable to be present at the next meeting +of the Society. He also wrote to excuse himself from two +or three engagements which he had made for the week. +Then, having ordered his servant to pack a traveling bag, +he went to bed, more excited than the affair perhaps warranted. + +The next day, at five o'clock, James Starr jumped out of bed, +dressed himself warmly, for a cold rain was falling, and left his +house in the Canongate, to go to Granton Pier to catch the steamer, +which in three hours would take him up the Forth as far as Stirling. + +For the first time in his life, perhaps, in passing along the Canongate, +he did NOT TURN TO LOOK AT HOLYROOD, the palace of the former +sovereigns of Scotland. He did not notice the sentinels who stood +before its gateways, dressed in the uniform of their Highland regiment, +tartan kilt, plaid and sporran complete. His whole thought was to reach +Callander where Harry Ford was supposedly awaiting him. + +The better to understand this narrative, it will be as well to hear +a few words on the origin of coal. During the geological epoch, +when the terrestrial spheroid was still in course of formation, +a thick atmosphere surrounded it, saturated with watery vapors, +and copiously impregnated with carbonic acid. The vapors gradually +condensed in diluvial rains, which fell as if they had leapt +from the necks of thousands of millions of seltzer water bottles. +This liquid, loaded with carbonic acid, rushed in torrents over +a deep soft soil, subject to sudden or slow alterations of + +form, and maintained in its semi-fluid state as much by the heat +of the sun as by the fires of the interior mass. The internal +heat had not as yet been collected in the center of the globe. +The terrestrial crust, thin and incompletely hardened, allowed it +to spread through its pores. This caused a peculiar form of vegetation, +such as is probably produced on the surface of the inferior planets, +Venus or Mercury, which revolve nearer than our earth around +the radiant sun of our system. + +The soil of the continents was covered with immense forests. +Carbonic acid, so suitable for the development of the vegetable +kingdom, abounded. The feet of these trees were drowned in a sort +of immense lagoon, kept continually full by currents of fresh +and salt waters. They eagerly assimilated to themselves the carbon +which they, little by little, extracted from the atmosphere, +as yet unfit for the function of life, and it may be said +that they were destined to store it, in the form of coal, +in the very bowels of the earth. + +It was the earthquake period, caused by internal convulsions, +which suddenly modified the unsettled features of the +terrestrial surface. Here, an intumescence which was to become +a mountain, there, an abyss which was to be filled with an ocean +or a sea. There, whole forests sunk through the earth's crust, +below the unfixed strata, either until they found a resting-place, +such as the primitive bed of granitic rock, or, settling together +in a heap, they formed a solid mass. + +As the waters were contained in no bed, and were spread over every +part of the globe, they rushed where they liked, tearing from +the scarcely-formed rocks material with which to compose schists, +sandstones, and limestones. This the roving waves bore over +the submerged and now peaty forests, and deposited above them +the elements of rocks which were to superpose the coal strata. +In course of time, periods of which include millions of years, +these earths hardened in layers, and enclosed under a thick +carapace of pudding-stone, schist, compact or friable sandstone, +gravel and stones, the whole of the massive forests. + +And what went on in this gigantic crucible, where all this +vegetable matter had accumulated, sunk to various depths? +A regular chemical operation, a sort of distillation. +All the carbon contained in these vegetables had agglomerated, +and little by little coal was forming under the double influence +of enormous pressure and the high temperature maintained by +the internal fires, at this time so close to it. + +Thus there was one kingdom substituted for another in this +slow but irresistible reaction. The vegetable was transformed +into a mineral. Plants which had lived the vegeta-tive +life in all the vigor of first creation became petrified. +Some of the substances enclosed in this vast herbal left their +impression on the other more rapidly mineralized products, +which pressed them as an hydraulic press of incalculable power +would have done. + +Thus also shells, zoophytes, star-fish, polypi, spirifores, even fish +and lizards brought by the water, left on the yet soft coal their +exact likeness, "admirably taken off." + +Pressure seems to have played a considerable part in the formation +of carboniferous strata. In fact, it is to its degree of power that +are due the different sorts of coal, of which industry makes use. +Thus in the lowest layers of the coal ground appears the anthracite, +which, being almost destitute of volatile matter, contains the greatest +quantity of carbon. In the higher beds are found, on the contrary, +lignite and fossil wood, substances in which the quantity of carbon +is infinitely less. Between these two beds, according to the degree +of pressure to which they have been subjected, are found veins +of graphite and rich or poor coal. It may be asserted that it is +for want of sufficient pressure that beds of peaty bog have not been +completely changed into coal. So then, the origin of coal mines, +in whatever part of the globe they have been discovered, is this: +the absorption through the terrestrial crust of the great forests +of the geological period; then, the mineralization of the vegetables +obtained in the course of time, under the influence of pressure and heat, +and under the action of carbonic acid. + +Now, at the time when the events related in this story took place, +some of the most important mines of the Scottish coal beds had +been exhausted by too rapid working. In the region which extends +between Edinburgh and Glasgow, for a distance of ten or twelve miles, +lay the Aberfoyle colliery, of which the engineer, James Starr, +had so long + +directed the works. For ten years these mines had been abandoned. +No new seams had been discovered, although the soundings had been +carried to a depth of fifteen hundred or even of two thousand feet, +and when James Starr had retired, it was with the full conviction +that even the smallest vein had been completely exhausted. + +Under these circumstances, it was plain that the discovery +of a new seam of coal would be an important event. +Could Simon Ford's communication relate to a fact of this nature? +This question James Starr could not cease asking himself. +Was he called to make conquest of another corner of these rich +treasure fields? Fain would he hope it was so. + +The second letter had for an instant checked his speculations on this +subject, but now he thought of that letter no longer. Besides, the son +of the old overman was there, waiting at the appointed rendezvous. +The anonymous letter was therefore worth nothing. + +The moment the engineer set foot on the platform at the end +of his journey, the young man advanced towards him. + + +"Are you Harry Ford?" asked the engineer quickly. + +"Yes, Mr. Starr." + +"I should not have known you, my lad. Of course in ten years +you have become a man!" + +"I knew you directly, sir," replied the young miner, cap in hand. +"You have not changed. You look just as you did when you bade us +good-by in the Dochart pit. I haven't forgotten that day." + +"Put on your cap, Harry," said the engineer. "It's pouring, +and politeness needn't make you catch cold." + +"Shall we take shelter anywhere, Mr. Starr?" asked young Ford. + +"No, Harry. The weather is settled. It will rain all day, +and I am in a hurry. Let us go on." + +"I am at your orders," replied Harry. + +"Tell me, Harry, is your father well?" + +"Very well, Mr. Starr." + +"And your mother?" + +"She is well, too." + +"Was it your father who wrote telling me to come to the Yarrow shaft?" + +"No, it was I." + + +"Then did Simon Ford send me a second letter to contradict the first?" +asked the engineer quickly. + +"No, Mr. Starr," answered the young miner. + +"Very well," said Starr, without speaking of the anonymous letter. +Then, continuing, "And can you tell me what you father wants with me?" + +"Mr. Starr, my father wishes to tell you himself." + +"But you know what it is?" + +"I do, sir." + +"Well, Harry, I will not ask you more. But let us get on, for I'm +anxious to see Simon Ford. By-the-bye, where does he live?" + +"In the mine." + +"What! In the Dochart pit?" + +"Yes, Mr. Starr," replied Harry. + +"Really! has your family never left the old mine since the cessation +of the works?" + +"Not a day, Mr. Starr. You know my father. It is there he was born, +it is there he means to die!" + + +"I can understand that, Harry. I can understand that! His native mine! +He did not like to abandon it! And are you happy there?" + +"Yes, Mr. Starr," replied the young miner, "for we love one another, +and we have but few wants." + +"Well, Harry," said the engineer, "lead the way." + +And walking rapidly through the streets of Callander, in a few +minutes they had left the town behind them. + + +CHAPTER III THE DOCHART PIT + + +HARRY FORD was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty. +His grave looks, his habitually passive expression, had from +childhood been noticed among his comrades in the mine. +His regular features, his deep blue eyes, his curly hair, +rather chestnut than fair, the natural grace of his person, +altogether made him a fine specimen of a lowlander. +Accustomed from his earliest days to the work of the mine, +he was strong and hardy, as well as brave and good. +Guided by his father, and impelled by his own inclinations, +he had early begun his education, and at an age when most lads + +are little more than apprentices, he had managed to make himself +of some importance, a leader, in fact, among his fellows, +and few are very ignorant in a country which does all it can +to remove ignorance. Though, during the first years of his youth, +the pick was never out of Harry's hand, nevertheless the young +miner was not long in acquiring sufficient knowledge to raise +him into the upper class of the miners, and he would certainly +have succeeded his father as overman of the Dochart pit, +if the colliery had not been abandoned. + +James Starr was still a good walker, yet he could not easily +have kept up with his guide, if the latter had not slackened +his pace. The young man, carrying the engineer's bag, +followed the left bank of the river for about a mile. Leaving its +winding course, they took a road under tall, dripping trees. +Wide fields lay on either side, around isolated farms. +In one field a herd of hornless cows were quietly grazing; +in another sheep with silky wool, like those in a child's +toy sheep fold. + +The Yarrow shaft was situated four miles from Callander. Whilst walking, +James Starr could not but be struck with the change in the country. +He had not seen it since the day when the last ton of Aberfoyle coal had +been emptied into railway trucks to be sent to Glasgow. Agricultural life +had now taken the place of the more stirring, active, industrial life. +The contrast was all the greater because, during winter, field work is at +a standstill. But formerly, at whatever season, the mining population, +above and below ground, filled the scene with animation. Great wagons +of coal used to be passing night and day. The rails, with their +rotten sleepers, now disused, were then constantly ground by the weight +of wagons. Now stony roads took the place of the old mining tramways. +James Starr felt as if he was traversing a desert. + +The engineer gazed about him with a saddened eye. +He stopped now and then to take breath. He listened. +The air was no longer filled with distant whistlings and the panting +of engines. None of those black vapors which the manufacturer +loves to see, hung in the horizon, mingling with the clouds. +No tall cylindrical or prismatic chimney vomited out smoke, +after being fed from the mine itself; no blast-pipe was puffing +out its white vapor. The ground, + +formerly black with coal dust, had a bright look, to which James Starr's +eyes were not accustomed. + +When the engineer stood still, Harry Ford stopped also. +The young miner waited in silence. He felt what was passing +in his companion's mind, and he shared his feelings; he, a child +of the mine, whose whole life had been passed in its depths. + +"Yes, Harry, it is all changed," said Starr. "But at the rate we worked, +of course the treasures of coal would have been exhausted some day. +Do you regret that time?" + +"I do regret it, Mr. Starr," answered Harry. "The work was hard, +but it was interesting, as are all struggles." + +"No doubt, my lad. A continuous struggle against the dangers +of landslips, fires, inundations, explosions of firedamp, like claps +of thunder. One had to guard against all those perils! You say well! +It was a struggle, and consequently an exciting life." + +"The miners of Alva have been more favored than the miners +of Aberfoyle, Mr. Starr!" + +"Ay, Harry, so they have," replied the engineer. + +"Indeed," cried the young man, "it's a pity that all the globe +was not made of coal; then there would have been enough to last +millions of years!" + +"No doubt there would, Harry; it must be acknowledged, +however, that nature has shown more forethought by forming +our sphere principally of sandstone, limestone, and granite, +which fire cannot consume." + +"Do you mean to say, Mr. Starr, that mankind would have ended +by burning their own globe?" + +"Yes! The whole of it, my lad," answered the engineer. +"The earth would have passed to the last bit into the furnaces +of engines, machines, steamers, gas factories; certainly, that would +have been the end of our world one fine day!" + +"There is no fear of that now, Mr. Starr. But yet, the mines will +be exhausted, no doubt, and more rapidly than the statistics make out!" + +"That will happen, Harry; and in my opinion England is very +wrong in exchanging her fuel for the gold of other nations! +I know well," added the engineer, "that neither hydraulics nor +electricity has yet shown all they can do, and that some day +these two forces will be more completely + +utilized. But no matter! Coal is of a very practical use, +and lends itself easily to the various wants of industry. +Unfortunately man cannot produce it at will. Though our external +forests grow incessantly under the influence of heat and water, +our subterranean forests will not be reproduced, and if they were, +the globe would never be in the state necessary to make +them into coal." + +James Starr and his guide, whilst talking, had continued their walk +at a rapid pace. An hour after leaving Callander they reached +the Dochart pit. + +The most indifferent person would have been touched at the appearance +this deserted spot presented. It was like the skeleton of something +that had formerly lived. A few wretched trees bordered a plain +where the ground was hidden under the black dust of the mineral fuel, +but no cinders nor even fragments of coal were to be seen. +All had been carried away and consumed long ago. + +They walked into the shed which covered the opening of the Yarrow shaft, +whence ladders still gave access to the lower galleries of the pit. +The engineer bent over the opening. Formerly from this place could +be heard the powerful whistle of the air inhaled by the ventilators. +It was now a silent abyss. It was like being at the mouth of +some extinct volcano. + +When the mine was being worked, ingenious machines were used in certain +shafts of the Aberfoyle colliery, which in this respect was very well off; +frames furnished with automatic lifts, working in wooden slides, +oscillating ladders, called "man-engines," which, by a simple movement, +permitted the miners to descend without danger. + +But all these appliances had been carried away, after the cessation +of the works. In the Yarrow shaft there remained only a long succession +of ladders, separated at every fifty feet by narrow landings. +Thirty of these ladders placed thus end to end led the visitor +down into the lower gallery, a depth of fifteen hundred feet. +This was the only way of communication which existed between +the bottom of the Dochart pit and the open air. As to air, +that came in by the Yarrow shaft, from whence galleries communicated +with another shaft whose orifice opened at a higher level; +the warm air naturally escaped by this species of inverted siphon. + + +"I will follow you, my lad," said the engineer, signing to the young +man to precede him. + +"As you please, Mr. Starr." + +"Have you your lamp?" + +"Yes, and I only wish it was still the safety lamp, which we formerly +had to use!" + +"Sure enough," returned James Starr, "there is no fear of +fire-damp explosions now!" + +Harry was provided with a simple oil lamp, the wick of which he lighted. +In the mine, now empty of coal, escapes of light carburetted hydrogen +could not occur. As no explosion need be feared, there was no +necessity for interposing between the flame and the surrounding air +that metallic screen which prevents the gas from catching fire. +The Davy lamp was of no use here. But if the danger did not exist, +it was because the cause of it had disappeared, and with this cause, +the combustible in which formerly consisted the riches of the Dochart pit. + +Harry descended the first steps of the upper ladder. +Starr followed. They soon found themselves in a profound obscurity, +which was only relieved by the glimmer of the lamp. +The young man held it above his head, the better to light +his companion. A dozen ladders were descended by the engineer +and his guide, with the measured step habitual to the miner. +They were all still in good condition. + +James Starr examined, as well as the insufficient light would permit, +the sides of the dark shaft, which were covered by a partly rotten +lining of wood. + +Arrived at the fifteenth landing, that is to say, half way down, +they halted for a few minutes. + +"Decidedly, I have not your legs, my lad," said the engineer, panting. + +"You are very stout, Mr. Starr," replied Harry, "and it's something too, +you see, to live all one's life in the mine." + +"Right, Harry. Formerly, when I was twenty, I could have gone +down all at a breath. Come, forward!" + +But just as the two were about to leave the platform, a voice, +as yet far distant, was heard in the depths of the shaft. +It came up like a sonorous billow, swelling as it advanced, +and becoming more and more distinct. + + +"Halloo! who comes here?" asked the engineer, stopping Harry. + +"I cannot say," answered the young miner. + +"Is it not your father?" + +"My father, Mr. Starr? no." + +"Some neighbor, then?" + +"We have no neighbors in the bottom of the pit," +replied Harry. "We are alone, quite alone." + +"Well, we must let this intruder pass," said James Starr. "Those who +are descending must yield the path to those who are ascending." + +They waited. The voice broke out again with a magnificent burst, +as if it had been carried through a vast speaking trumpet; +and soon a few words of a Scotch song came clearly to the ears +of the young miner. + +"The Hundred Pipers!" cried Harry. "Well, I shall be much surprised +if that comes from the lungs of any man but Jack Ryan." + +"And who is this Jack Ryan?" asked James Starr. + +"An old mining comrade," replied Harry. Then leaning from +the platform, "Halloo! Jack!" he shouted. + +"Is that you, Harry?" was the reply. "Wait a bit, I'm coming." +And the song broke forth again. + +In a few minutes, a tall fellow of five and twenty, with a +merry face, smiling eyes, a laughing mouth, and sandy hair, +appeared at the bottom of the luminous cone which was thrown from +his lantern, and set foot on the landing of the fifteenth ladder. +His first act was to vigorously wring the hand which Harry +extended to him. + +"Delighted to meet you!" he exclaimed. "If I had only known +you were to be above ground to-day, I would have spared myself +going down the Yarrow shaft!" + +"This is Mr. James Starr," said Harry, turning his lamp towards +the engineer, who was in the shadow. + +"Mr. Starr!" cried Jack Ryan. "Ah, sir, I could not see. +Since I left the mine, my eyes have not been accustomed to see +in the dark, as they used to do." + +"Ah, I remember a laddie who was always singing. That was ten years ago. +It was you, no doubt?" + +"Ay, Mr. Starr, but in changing my trade, I haven't changed +my disposition. It's far better to laugh and sing than to +cry and whine!" + + +"You're right there, Jack Ryan. And what do you do now, +as you have left the mine?" + +"I am working on the Melrose farm, forty miles from here. +Ah, it's not like our Aberfoyle mines! The pick comes better +to my hand than the spade or hoe. And then, in the old pit, +there were vaulted roofs, to merrily echo one's songs, while up +above ground!--But you are going to see old Simon, Mr. Starr?" + +"Yes, Jack," answered the engineer. + +"Don't let me keep you then." + +"Tell me, Jack," said Harry, "what was taking you to our cottage to-day?" + +"I wanted to see you, man," replied Jack, "and ask you to come +to the Irvine games. You know I am the piper of the place. +There will be dancing and singing." + +"Thank you, Jack, but it's impossible." + +"Impossible?" + +"Yes; Mr. Starr's visit will last some time, and I must take +him back to Callander." + +"Well, Harry, it won't be for a week yet. By that time Mr. Starr's +visit will be over, I should think, and there will be nothing to keep +you at the cottage." + +"Indeed, Harry," said James Starr, "you must profit by your +friend Jack's invitation." + +"Well, I accept it, Jack," said Harry. "In a week we will +meet at Irvine." + +"In a week, that's settled," returned Ryan. "Good-by, Harry! +Your servant, Mr. Starr. I am very glad to have seen you again! +I can give news of you to all my friends. No one has +forgotten you, sir." + +"And I have forgotten no one," said Starr. + +"Thanks for all, sir," replied Jack. + +"Good-by, Jack," said Harry, shaking his hand. And Jack Ryan, +singing as he went, soon disappeared in the heights of the shaft, +dimly lighted by his lamp. + +A quarter of an hour afterwards James Starr and Harry descended +the last ladder, and set foot on the lowest floor of the pit. + +From the bottom of the Yarrow shaft radiated numerous empty galleries. +They ran through the wall of schist and sandstone, some shored up +with great, roughly-hewn beams, others lined with a thick casing of wood. +In every direc- + +tion embankments supplied the place of the excavated veins. +Artificial pillars were made of stone from neighboring quarries, +and now they supported the ground, that is to say, the double layer of +tertiary and quaternary soil, which formerly rested on the seam itself. +Darkness now filled the galleries, formerly lighted either by the miner's +lamp or by the electric light, the use of which had been introduced +in the mines. + +"Will you not rest a while, Mr. Starr?" asked the young man. + +"No, my lad," replied the engineer, "for I am anxious to be at +your father's cottage." + +"Follow me then, Mr. Starr. I will guide you, and yet I daresay you +could find your way perfectly well through this dark labyrinth." + +"Yes, indeed! I have the whole plan of the old pit still in my head." + +Harry, followed by the engineer, and holding his lamp high +the better to light their way, walked along a high gallery, +like the nave of a cathedral. Their feet still struck against +the wooden sleepers which used to support the rails. + +They had not gone more than fifty paces, when a huge stone +fell at the feet of James Starr. "Take care, Mr. Starr!" +cried Harry, seizing the engineer by the arm. + +"A stone, Harry! Ah! these old vaultings are no longer quite secure, +of course, and--" + +"Mr. Starr," said Harry Ford, "it seems to me that stone was thrown, +thrown as by the hand of man!" + +"Thrown!" exclaimed James Starr. "What do you mean, lad?" + +"Nothing, nothing, Mr. Starr," replied Harry evasively, his anxious +gaze endeavoring to pierce the darkness. "Let us go on. +Take my arm, sir, and don't be afraid of making a false step." + +"Here I am, Harry." And they both advanced, whilst Harry looked +on every side, throwing the light of his lamp into all the corners +of the gallery. + +"Shall we soon be there?" asked the engineer. + +"In ten minutes at most." + +"Good." + +"But," muttered Harry, "that was a most singular thing. +It is the first time such an accident has happened to me. + +That stone falling just at the moment we were passing." + +"Harry, it was a mere chance." + +"Chance," replied the young man, shaking his head. "Yes, chance." +He stopped and listened. + +"What is the matter, Harry?" asked the engineer. + +"I thought I heard someone walking behind us," replied the +young miner, listening more attentively. Then he added, +"No, I must have been mistaken. Lean harder on my arm, +Mr. Starr. Use me like a staff." + +"A good solid staff, Harry," answered James Starr. "I could not wish +for a better than a fine fellow like you." + +They continued in silence along the dark nave. Harry was +evidently preoccupied, and frequently turned, trying to catch, +either some distant noise, or remote glimmer of light. + +But behind and before, all was silence and darkness. + + +CHAPTER IV THE FORD FAMILY + + +TEN minutes afterwards, James Starr and Harry issued from +the principal gallery. They were now standing in a glade, +if we may use this word to designate a vast and dark excavation. +The place, however, was not entirely deprived of daylight. +A few rays straggled in through the opening of a deserted shaft. +It was by means of this pipe that ventilation was established +in the Dochart pit. Owing to its lesser density, the warm +air was drawn towards the Yarrow shaft. Both air and light, +therefore, penetrated in some measure into the glade. + +Here Simon Ford had lived with his family ten years, +in a subterranean dwelling, hollowed out in the schistous mass, +where formerly stood the powerful engines which worked +the mechanical traction of the Dochart pit. + +Such was the habitation, "his cottage," as he called it, in which resided +the old overman. As he had some means saved during a long life of toil, +Ford could have afforded to live in the light of day, among trees, +or in any town of the kingdom he chose, but he and his wife and son +preferred remaining in the mine, where they were happy together, +having the same opinions, ideas, and tastes. Yes, they + +were quite fond of their cottage, buried fifteen hundred feet +below Scottish soil. Among other advantages, there was no +fear that tax gatherers, or rent collectors would ever come +to trouble its inhabitants. + +At this period, Simon Ford, the former overman of the Dochart pit, +bore the weight of sixty-five years well. Tall, robust, +well-built, he would have been regarded as one of the most +conspicuous men in the district which supplies so many fine +fellows to the Highland regiments. + +Simon Ford was descended from an old mining family, and his +ancestors had worked the very first carboniferous seams opened +in Scotland. Without discussing whether or not the Greeks +and Romans made use of coal, whether the Chinese worked coal +mines before the Christian era, whether the French word for coal +(HOUILLE) is really derived from the farrier Houillos, who lived +in Belgium in the twelfth century, we may affirm that the beds +in Great Britain were the first ever regularly worked. +So early as the eleventh century, William the Conqueror divided +the produce of the Newcastle bed among his companions-in-arms. +At the end of the thirteenth century, a license for the mining +of "sea coal" was granted by Henry III. Lastly, towards the end +of the same century, mention is made of the Scotch and Welsh beds. + +It was about this time that Simon Ford's ancestors penetrated +into the bowels of Caledonian earth, and lived there ever after, +from father to son. They were but plain miners. They labored +like convicts at the work of extracting the precious combustible. +It is even believed that the coal miners, like the salt-makers +of that period, were actual slaves. + +However that might have been, Simon Ford was proud +of belonging to this ancient family of Scotch miners. +He had worked diligently in the same place where his ancestors +had wielded the pick, the crowbar, and the mattock. +At thirty he was overman of the Dochart pit, the most important +in the Aberfoyle colliery. He was devoted to his trade. +During long years he zealously performed his duty. +His only grief had been to perceive the bed becoming impoverished, +and to see the hour approaching when the seam would be exhausted. + +It was then he devoted himself to the search for new veins +in all the Aberfoyle pits, which communicated underground +one with another. He had had the good luck to +discover several during the last period of the working. +His miner's instinct assisted him marvelously, and the engineer, +James Starr, appreciated him highly. It might be said that +he divined the course of seams in the depths of the coal mine +as a hydroscope reveals springs in the bowels of the earth. +He was par excellence the type of a miner whose whole +existence is indissolubly connected with that of his mine. +He had lived there from his birth, and now that the works +were abandoned he wished to live there still. His son Harry +foraged for the subterranean housekeeping; as for himself, +during those ten years he had not been ten times above ground. + +"Go up there! What is the good?" he would say, and refused +to leave his black domain. The place was remarkably healthy, +subject to an equable temperature; the old overman endured +neither the heat of summer nor the cold of winter. +His family enjoyed good health; what more could he desire? + +But at heart he felt depressed. He missed the former +animation, movement, and life in the well-worked pit. +He was, however, supported by one fixed idea. "No, no! the mine +is not exhausted!" he repeated. + +And that man would have given serious offense who could have ventured +to express before Simon Ford any doubt that old Aberfoyle would +one day revive! He had never given up the hope of discovering +some new bed which would restore the mine to its past splendor. +Yes, he would willingly, had it been necessary, have resumed +the miner's pick, and with his still stout arms vigorously attacked +the rock. He went through the dark galleries, sometimes alone, +sometimes with his son, examining, searching for signs of coal, +only to return each day, wearied, but not in despair, to the cottage. + +Madge, Simon's faithful companion, his "gude-wife," to use +the Scotch term, was a tall, strong, comely woman. Madge had no +wish to leave the Dochart pit any more than had her husband. +She shared all his hopes and regrets. She encouraged him, +she urged him on, and talked to him in a way which cheered the heart +of the old overman. "Aberfoyle is only asleep," she would say. +"You are right about that, Simon. This is but a rest, +it is not death!" + + +Madge, as well as the others, was perfectly satisfied to live +independent of the outer world, and was the center of the happiness +enjoyed by the little family in their dark cottage. + +The engineer was eagerly expected. Simon Ford was standing at his door, +and as soon as Harry's lamp announced the arrival of his former viewer +he advanced to meet him. + + +"Welcome, Mr. Starr!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing under +the roof of schist. "Welcome to the old overman's cottage! +Though it is buried fifteen hundred feet under the earth, +our house is not the less hospitable." + +"And how are you, good Simon?" asked James Starr, grasping the hand +which his host held out to him. + +"Very well, Mr. Starr. How could I be otherwise here, +sheltered from the inclemencies of the weather? +Your ladies who go to Newhaven or Portobello in the summer time +would do much better to pass a few months in the coal mine +of Aberfoyle! They would run no risk here of catching a heavy cold, +as they do in the damp streets of the old capital." + +"I'm not the man to contradict you, Simon," answered James Starr, +glad to find the old man just as he used to be. "Indeed, I wonder why +I do not change my home in the Canongate for a cottage near you." + +"And why not, Mr. Starr? I know one of your old miners who would +be truly pleased to have only a partition wall between you and him." + +"And how is Madge?" asked the engineer. + +"The goodwife is in better health than I am, if that's possible," +replied Ford, "and it will be a pleasure to her to see you at her table. +I think she will surpass herself to do you honor." + +"We shall see that, Simon, we shall see that!" said the engineer, +to whom the announcement of a good breakfast could not be indifferent, +after his long walk. + +"Are you hungry, Mr. Starr?" + +"Ravenously hungry. My journey has given me an appetite. +I came through horrible weather." + +"Ah, it is raining up there," responded Simon Ford. + +"Yes, Simon, and the waters of the Forth are as rough as the sea." + + +"Well, Mr. Starr, here it never rains. But I needn't describe +to you all the advantages, which you know as well as myself. +Here we are at the cottage. That is the chief thing, and I +again say you are welcome, sir." + +Simon Ford, followed by Harry, ushered their guest into the dwelling. +James Starr found himself in a large room lighted by numerous lamps, +one hanging from the colored beams of the roof. + +"The soup is ready, wife," said Ford, "and it mustn't be kept waiting +any more than Mr. Starr. He is as hungry as a miner, and he shall +see that our boy doesn't let us want for anything in the cottage! +By-the-bye, Harry," added the old overman, turning to his son, +"Jack Ryan came here to see you." + +"I know, father. We met him in the Yarrow shaft." + +"He's an honest and a merry fellow," said Ford; "but he seems to be quite +happy above ground. He hasn't the true miner's blood in his veins. +Sit down, Mr. Starr, and have a good dinner, for we may not +sup till late." + +As the engineer and his hosts were taking their places: + +"One moment, Simon," said James Starr. "Do you want me to eat +with a good appetite?" + +"It will be doing us all possible honor, Mr. Starr," answered Ford. + +"Well, in order to eat heartily, I must not be at all anxious. +Now I have two questions to put to you." + +"Go on, sir." + +"Your letter told me of a communication which was to be of +an interesting nature." + +"It is very interesting indeed." + +"To you?" + +"To you and to me, Mr. Starr. But I do not want to tell +it you until after dinner, and on the very spot itself. +Without that you would not believe me." + +"Simon," resumed the engineer, "look me straight in the face. +An interesting communication? Yes. Good! I will not ask more," +he added, as if he had read the reply in the old overman's eyes. + +"And the second question?" asked the latter. + +"Do you know, Simon, who the person is who can have written this?" +answered the engineer, handing him the anonymous letter. + + +Ford took the letter and read it attentively. Then giving it to his son, +"Do you know the writing?" he asked. + +"No, father," replied Harry. + +"And had this letter the Aberfoyle postmark?" inquired Simon Ford. + +"Yes, like yours," replied James Starr. + +"What do you think of that, Harry?" said his father, his brow darkening. + +"I think, father," returned Harry, "that someone has had some +interest in trying to prevent Mr. Starr from coming to the place +where you invited him." + +"But who," exclaimed the old miner, "who could have possibly +guessed enough of my secret?" And Simon fell into a reverie, +from which he was aroused by his wife. + +"Let us begin, Mr. Starr," she said. "The soup is already getting cold. +Don't think any more of that letter just now." + +On the old woman's invitation, each drew in his chair, +James Starr opposite to Madge--to do him honor--the father +and son opposite to each other. It was a good Scotch dinner. +First they ate "hotchpotch," soup with the meat swimming +in capital broth. As old Simon said, his wife knew no rival +in the art of preparing hotchpotch. It was the same with the +"cockyleeky," a cock stewed with leeks, which merited high praise. +The whole was washed down with excellent ale, obtained from +the best brewery in Edinburgh. + +But the principal dish consisted of a "haggis," the national pudding, +made of meat and barley meal. This remarkable dish, which inspired +the poet Burns with one of his best odes, shared the fate of all +the good things in this world--it passed away like a dream. + +Madge received the sincere compliments of her guest. +The dinner ended with cheese and oatcake, accompanied by a few +small glasses of "usquebaugh," capital whisky, five and twenty +years old--just Harry's age. The repast lasted a good hour. +James Starr and Simon Ford had not only eaten much, but talked +much too, chiefly of their past life in the old Aberfoyle mine. + +Harry had been rather silent. Twice he had left the table, +and even the house. He evidently felt uneasy since the incident +of the stone, and wished to examine the environs + +of the cottage. The anonymous letter had not contributed +to reassure him. + +Whilst he was absent, the engineer observed to Ford and his wife, +"That's a fine lad you have there, my friends." + +"Yes, Mr. Starr, he is a good and affectionate son," +replied the old overman earnestly. + +"Is he happy with you in the cottage?" + +"He would not wish to leave us." + +"Don't you think of finding him a wife, some day?" + +"A wife for Harry," exclaimed Ford. "And who would it be? +A girl from up yonder, who would love merry-makings and dancing, +who would prefer her clan to our mine! Harry wouldn't do it!" + +"Simon," said Madge, "you would not forbid that Harry should +take a wife." + +"I would forbid nothing," returned the old miner, "but there's +no hurry about that. Who knows but we may find one for him--" + +Harry re-entered at that moment, and Simon Ford was silent. + +When Madge rose from the table, all followed her example, +and seated themselves at the door of the cottage. "Well, Simon," +said the engineer, "I am ready to hear you." + +"Mr. Starr," responded Ford, "I do not need your ears, but your legs. +Are you quite rested?" + +"Quite rested and quite refreshed, Simon. I am ready to go with you +wherever you like." + +"Harry," said Simon Ford, turning to his son, "light our safety lamps." + +"Are you going to take safety lamps!" exclaimed James Starr, +in amazement, knowing that there was no fear of explosions +of fire-damp in a pit quite empty of coal. + +"Yes, Mr. Starr, it will be prudent." + +"My good Simon, won't you propose next to put me in a miner's dress?" + +"Not just yet, sir, not just yet!" returned the old overman, +his deep-set eyes gleaming strangely. + +Harry soon reappeared, carrying three safety lamps. +He handed one of these to the engineer, the other to his father, +and kept the third hanging from his left hand, whilst his right +was armed with a long stick. + + +"Forward!" said Simon Ford, taking up a strong pick, which was leaning +against the wall of the cottage. + +"Forward!" echoed the engineer. "Good-by, Madge." + +"GOD speed you!" responded the good woman. + +"A good supper, wife, do you hear?" exclaimed Ford. "We shall +be hungry when we come back, and will do it justice!" + + +CHAPTER V SOME STRANGE PHENOMENA + + +MANY superstitious beliefs exist both in the Highlands and Lowlands +of Scotland. Of course the mining population must furnish its +contingent of legends and fables to this mythological repertory. +If the fields are peopled with imaginary beings, either good +or bad, with much more reason must the dark mines be haunted +to their lowest depths. Who shakes the seam during tempestuous +nights? who puts the miners on the track of an as yet unworked +vein? who lights the fire-damp, and presides over the terrible +explosions? who but some spirit of the mine? This, at least, +was the opinion commonly spread among the superstitious Scotch. + +In the first rank of the believers in the supernatural +in the Dochart pit figured Jack Ryan, Harry's friend. +He was the great partisan of all these superstitions. +All these wild stories were turned by him into songs, +which earned him great applause in the winter evenings. + +But Jack Ryan was not alone in his belief. His comrades affirmed, +no less strongly, that the Aberfoyle pits were haunted, +and that certain strange beings were seen there frequently, +just as in the Highlands. To hear them talk, it would have +been more extraordinary if nothing of the kind appeared. +Could there indeed be a better place than a dark and deep coal +mine for the freaks of fairies, elves, goblins, and other +actors in the fantastical dramas? The scenery was all ready, +why should not the supernatural personages come there to +play their parts? + +So reasoned Jack Ryan and his comrades in the Aberfoyle mines. +We have said that the different pits communicated with +each other by means of long subterranean galleries. +Thus there existed beneath the county of Stirling +a vast tract, full of burrows, tunnels, bored with caves, +and perforated with shafts, a subterranean labyrinth, +which might be compared to an enormous ant-hill. + +Miners, though belonging to different pits, often met, when going +to or returning from their work. Consequently there was a constant +opportunity of exchanging talk, and circulating the stories +which had their origin in the mine, from one pit to another. +These accounts were transmitted with marvelous rapidity, +passing from mouth to mouth, and gaining in wonder as they went. + +Two men, however, better educated and with more practical +minds than the rest, had always resisted this temptation. +They in no degree believed in the intervention of spirits, +elves, or goblins. These two were Simon Ford and his son. +And they proved it by continuing to inhabit the dismal crypt, +after the desertion of the Dochart pit. Perhaps good Madge, +like every Highland woman, had some leaning towards the supernatural. +But she had to repeat all these stories to herself, and so she did, +most conscientiously, so as not to let the old traditions be lost. + +Even had Simon and Harry Ford been as credulous as their companions, +they would not have abandoned the mine to the imps and fairies. +For ten years, without missing a single day, obstinate and immovable +in their convictions, the father and son took their picks, their sticks, +and their lamps. They went about searching, sounding the rock +with a sharp blow, listening if it would return a favor-able sound. +So long as the soundings had not been pushed to the granite of the +primary formation, the Fords were agreed that the search, unsuccessful +to-day, might succeed to-morrow, and that it ought to be resumed. +They spent their whole life in endeavoring to bring Aberfoyle back +to its former prosperity. If the father died before the hour of success, +the son was to go on with the task alone. + +It was during these excursions that Harry was more particularly +struck by certain phenomena, which he vainly sought to explain. +Several times, while walking along some narrow cross-alley, +he seemed to hear sounds similar to those which would be produced +by violent blows of a pickax against the wall. + +Harry hastened to seek the cause of this mysterious work. +The tunnel was empty. The light from the young miner's + +lamp, thrown on the wall, revealed no trace of any recent work with pick +or crowbar. Harry would then ask himself if it was not the effect +of some acoustic illusion, or some strange and fantastic echo. +At other times, on suddenly throwing a bright light into a +suspicious-looking cleft in the rock, he thought he saw a shadow. +He rushed forward. Nothing, and there was no opening to permit +a human being to evade his pursuit! + +Twice in one month, Harry, whilst visiting the west end of the pit, +distinctly heard distant reports, as if some miner had exploded +a charge of dynamite. The second time, after many careful researches, +he found that a pillar had just been blown up. + +By the light of his lamp, Harry carefully examined +the place attacked by the explosion. It had not been made +in a simple embankment of stones, but in a mass of schist, +which had penetrated to this depth in the coal stratum. +Had the object of the explosion been to discover a new vein? +Or had someone wished simply to destroy this portion of the mine? +Thus he questioned, and when he made known this occurrence +to his father, neither could the old overman nor he himself +answer the question in a satisfactory way. + +"It is very queer," Harry often repeated. "The presence of an +unknown being in the mine seems impossible, and yet there can +be no doubt about it. Does someone besides ourselves wish to find +out if a seam yet exists? Or, rather, has he attempted to destroy +what remains of the Aberfoyle mines? But for what reason? +I will find that out, if it should cost me my life!" + +A fortnight before the day on which Harry Ford guided +the engineer through the labyrinth of the Dochart pit, +he had been on the point of attaining the object of his search. +He was going over the southwest end of the mine, with a large +lantern in his hand. All at once, it seemed to him that a light +was suddenly extinguished, some hundred feet before him, +at the end of a narrow passage cut obliquely through the rock. +He darted forward. + +His search was in vain. As Harry would not admit a supernatural +explanation for a physical occurrence, he concluded that +certainly some strange being prowled about in the pit. +But whatever he could do, searching with the greatest +care, scrutinizing every crevice in the gallery, he found +nothing for his trouble. + +If Jack Ryan and the other superstitious fellows in the mine had seen +these lights, they would, without fail, have called them supernatural, +but Harry did not dream of doing so, nor did his father. +And when they talked over these phenomena, evidently due to a +physical cause, "My lad," the old man would say, "we must wait. +It will all be explained some day." + +However, it must be observed that, hitherto, neither Harry +nor his father had ever been exposed to any act of violence. +If the stone which had fallen at the feet of James Starr +had been thrown by the hand of some ill-disposed person, +it was the first criminal act of that description. + +James Starr was of opinion that the stone had become detached +from the roof of the gallery; but Harry would not admit of such +a simple explanation. According to him, the stone had not fallen, +it had been thrown; for otherwise, without rebounding, it could +never have described a trajectory as it did. + +Harry saw in it a direct attempt against himself and his father, +or even against the engineer. + + +CHAPTER VI SIMON FORD'S EXPERIMENT + + +THE old clock in the cottage struck one as James Starr and his two +companions went out. A dim light penetrated through the ventilating +shaft into the glade. Harry's lamp was not necessary here, but it +would very soon be of use, for the old overman was about to conduct +the engineer to the very end of the Dochart pit. + +After following the principal gallery for a distance of two miles, +the three explorers--for, as will be seen, this was a regular exploration-- +arrived at the entrance of a narrow tunnel. It was like a nave, +the roof of which rested on woodwork, covered with white moss. +It followed very nearly the line traced by the course of the river Forth, +fifteen hundred feet above. + +"So we are going to the end of the last vein?" said James Starr. + + +"Ay! You know the mine well still." + +"Well, Simon," returned the engineer, "it will be difficult to go +further than that, if I don't mistake." + +"Yes, indeed, Mr. Starr. That was where our picks tore out the last +bit of coal in the seam. I remember it as if it were yesterday. +I myself gave that last blow, and it re-echoed in my heart more +dismally than on the rock. Only sandstone and schist were round +us after that, and when the truck rolled towards the shaft, +I followed, with my heart as full as though it were a funeral. +It seemed to me that the soul of the mine was going with it." + +The gravity with which the old man uttered these words impressed +the engineer, who was not far from sharing his sentiments. +They were those of the sailor who leaves his disabled vessel-- +of the proprietor who sees the house of his ancestors pulled down. +He pressed Ford's hand; but now the latter seized that of +the engineer, and, wringing it: + +"That day we were all of us mistaken," he exclaimed. "No! The old +mine was not dead. It was not a corpse that the miners abandoned; +and I dare to assert, Mr. Starr, that its heart beats still." + +"Speak, Ford! Have you discovered a new vein?" cried the engineer, +unable to contain himself. "I know you have! Your letter could +mean nothing else." + +"Mr. Starr," said Simon Ford, "I did not wish to tell any +man but yourself." + +"And you did quite right, Ford. But tell me how, by what signs, +are you sure?" + +"Listen, sir!" resumed Simon. "It is not a seam that I have found." + +"What is it, then?" + +"Only positive proof that such a seam exists." + +"And the proof?" + +"Could fire-damp issue from the bowels of the earth if coal +was not there to produce it?" + +"No, certainly not!" replied the engineer. "No coal, no fire-damp. +No effects without a cause." + +"Just as no smoke without fire." + +"And have you recognized the presence of light carburetted hydrogen?" + +"An old miner could not be deceived," answered Ford. "I have met +with our old enemy, the fire-damp!" + + +"But suppose it was another gas," said Starr. "Firedamp is almost +without smell, and colorless. It only really betrays its presence +by an explosion." + +"Mr. Starr," said Simon Ford, "will you let me tell you +what I have done? Harry had once or twice observed something +remarkable in his excursions to the west end of the mine. +Fire, which suddenly went out, sometimes appeared along the face +of the rock or on the embankment of the further galleries. +How those flames were lighted, I could not and cannot say. +But they were evidently owing to the presence of fire-damp, +and to me fire-damp means a vein of coal." + +"Did not these fires cause any explosion?" asked the engineer quickly. + +"Yes, little partial explosions," replied Ford, "such as I +used to cause myself when I wished to ascertain the presence +of fire-damp. Do you remember how formerly it was the custom +to try to prevent explosions before our good genius, Humphry Davy, +invented his safety-lamp?" + +"Yes," replied James Starr. "You mean what the 'monk,' as the men +called him, used to do. But I have never seen him in the exercise +of his duty." + +"Indeed, Mr. Starr, you are too young, in spite of +your five-and-fifty years, to have seen that. But I, +ten years older, often saw the last 'monk' working in the mine. +He was called so because he wore a long robe like a monk. +His proper name was the 'fireman.' At that time there was +no other means of destroying the bad gas but by dispersing +it in little explosions, before its buoyancy had collected +it in too great quantities in the heights of the galleries. +The monk, as we called him, with his face masked, his head muffled up, +all his body tightly wrapped in a thick felt cloak, crawled along +the ground. He could breathe down there, when the air was pure; +and with his right hand he waved above his head a blazing torch. +When the firedamp had accumulated in the air, so as to form +a detonating mixture, the explosion occurred without being fatal, +and, by often renewing this operation, catastrophes were prevented. +Sometimes the 'monk' was injured or killed in his work, +then another took his place. This was done in all mines until +the Davy lamp was universally adopted. But I knew the plan, +and by its means I discovered the presence of firedamp +and consequently that of a new seam of coal in the Dochart pit." + +All that the old overman had related of the so-called "monk" +or "fireman" was perfectly true. The air in the galleries +of mines was formerly always purified in the way described. + +Fire-damp, marsh-gas, or carburetted hydrogen, is colorless, +almost scentless; it burns with a blue flame, and makes +respiration impossible. The miner could not live in a place +filled with this injurious gas, any more than one could live +in a gasometer full of common gas. Moreover, fire-damp, as +well as the latter, a mixture of inflammable gases, +forms a detonating mixture as soon as the air unites with it +in a proportion of eight, and perhaps even five to the hundred. +When this mixture is lighted by any cause, there is an explosion, +almost always followed by a frightful catastrophe. + +As they walked on, Simon Ford told the engineer all that he had done +to attain his object; how he was sure that the escape of fire-damp took +place at the very end of the farthest gallery in its western part, +because he had provoked small and partial explosions, or rather +little flames, enough to show the nature of the gas, which escaped +in a small jet, but with a continuous flow. + +An hour after leaving the cottage, James Starr and his two companions +had gone a distance of four miles. The engineer, urged by anxiety +and hope, walked on without noticing the length of the way. +He pondered over all that the old miner had told him, and mentally weighed +all the arguments which the latter had given in support of his belief. +He agreed with him in thinking that the continued emission +of carburetted hydrogen certainly showed the existence of a new +coal-seam. If it had been merely a sort of pocket, full of gas, +as it is sometimes found amongst the rock, it would soon have +been empty, and the phenomenon have ceased. But far from that. +According to Simon Ford, the fire-damp escaped incessantly, and from +that fact the existence of an important vein might be considered certain. +Consequently, the riches of the Dochart pit were not entirely exhausted. +The chief question now was, whether this was merely a vein which would +yield comparatively little, or a bed occupying a large extent. + +Harry, who preceded his father and the engineer, stopped. + + +"Here we are!" exclaimed the old miner. "At last, +thank Heaven! you are here, Mr. Starr, and we shall soon know." +The old overman's voice trembled slightly. + +"Be calm, my man!" said the engineer. "I am as excited as you are, +but we must not lose time." + +The gallery at this end of the pit widened into a sort of dark cave. +No shaft had been pierced in this part, and the gallery, bored into +the bowels of the earth, had no direct communication with the surface +of the earth. + +James Starr, with intense interest, examined the place in which +they were standing. On the walls of the cavern the marks of +the pick could still be seen, and even holes in which the rock +had been blasted, near the termination of the working. +The schist was excessively hard, and it had not been necessary +to bank up the end of the tunnel where the works had come to an end. +There the vein had failed, between the schist and the tertiary sandstone. +From this very place had been extracted the last piece of coal +from the Dochart pit. + +"We must attack the dyke," said Ford, raising his pick; +"for at the other side of the break, at more or less depth, +we shall assuredly find the vein, the existence of which I assert." + +"And was it on the surface of these rocks that you found out +the fire-damp?" asked James Starr. + +"Just there, sir," returned Ford, "and I was able to light +it only by bringing my lamp near to the cracks in the rock. +Harry has done it as well as I." + +"At what height?" asked Starr. + +"Ten feet from the ground," replied Harry. + +James Starr had seated himself on a rock. After critically +inhaling the air of the cavern, he gazed at the two miners, +almost as if doubting their words, decided as they were. +In fact, carburetted hydrogen is not completely scentless, +and the engineer, whose sense of smell was very keen, was astonished +that it had not revealed the presence of the explosive gas. +At any rate, if the gas had mingled at all with the surrounding air, +it could only be in a very small stream. There was no danger +of an explosion, and they might without fear open the safety lamp +to try the experiment, just as the old miner had done before. + +What troubled James Starr was, not lest too much gas + +mingled with the air, but lest there should be little or none. + +"Could they have been mistaken?" he murmured. "No: these men know +what they are about. And yet--" + +He waited, not without some anxiety, until Simon Ford's phenomenon should +have taken place. But just then it seemed that Harry, like himself, +had remarked the absence of the characteristic odor of fire-damp; +for he exclaimed in an altered voice, "Father, I should say the gas +was no longer escaping through the cracks!" + +"No longer!" cried the old miner--and, pressing his lips tight together, +he snuffed the air several times. + +Then, all at once, with a sudden movement, "Hand me +your lamp, Harry," he said. + +Ford took the lamp with a trembling hand. He drew off the wire gauze +case which surrounded the wick, and the flame burned in the open air. + +As they had expected, there was no explosion, but, what was +more serious, there was not even the slight crackling which +indicates the presence of a small quantity of firedamp. +Simon took the stick which Harry was holding, fixed his lamp +to the end of it, and raised it high above his head, up to where +the gas, by reason of its buoyancy, would naturally accumulate. +The flame of the lamp, burning straight and clear, revealed no +trace of the carburetted hydrogen. + +"Close to the wall," said the engineer. + +"Yes," responded Ford, carrying the lamp to that part +of the wall at which he and his son had, the evening before, +proved the escape of gas. + +The old miner's arm trembled whilst he tried to hoist the lamp up. +"Take my place, Harry," said he. + +Harry took the stick, and successively presented the lamp to the different +fissures in the rock; but he shook his head, for of that slight crackling +peculiar to escaping fire-damp he heard nothing. There was no flame. +Evidently not a particle of gas was escaping through the rock. + +"Nothing!" cried Ford, clenching his fist with a gesture rather +of anger than disappointment. + +A cry escaped Harry. + +"What's the matter?" asked Starr quickly. + +"Someone has stopped up the cracks in the schist!" + +"Is that true?" exclaimed the old miner. + + +"Look, father!" Harry was not mistaken. The obstruction +of the fissures was clearly visible by the light of the lamp. +It had been recently done with lime, leaving on the rock a long +whitish mark, badly concealed with coal dust. + +"It's he!" exclaimed Harry. "It can only be he!" + +"He?" repeated James Starr in amazement. + +"Yes!" returned the young man, "that mysterious being who haunts +our domain, for whom I have watched a hundred times without +being able to get at him--the author, we may now be certain, +of that letter which was intended to hinder you from coming to see +my father, Mr. Starr, and who finally threw that stone at us +in the gallery of the Yarrow shaft! Ah! there's no doubt about it; +there is a man's hand in all that!" + +Harry spoke with such energy that conviction came instantly and fully +to the engineer's mind. As to the old overman, he was already convinced. +Besides, there they were in the presence of an undeniable fact-- +the stopping-up of cracks through which gas had escaped freely +the night before. + +"Take your pick, Harry," cried Ford; "mount on my shoulders, my lad! +I am still strong enough to bear you!" The young man understood +in an instant. His father propped himself up against the rock. +Harry got upon his shoulders, so that with his pick he could reach +the line of the fissure. Then with quick sharp blows he attacked it. +Almost directly afterwards a slight sound was heard, like champagne +escaping from a bottle--a sound commonly expressed by the word "puff." + +Harry again seized his lamp, and held it to the opening. +There was a slight report; and a little red flame, rather blue +at its outline, flickered over the rock like a Will-o'-the-Wisp. + +Harry leaped to the ground, and the old overman, unable to contain his +joy, grasped the engineer's hands, exclaiming, "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! +Mr. Starr. The fire-damp burns! the vein is there!" + + +CHAPTER VII NEW ABERFOYLE + + +THE old overman's experiment had succeeded. Firedamp, it is +well known, is only generated in coal seams; therefore the existence +of a vein of precious combustible could no longer be doubted. +As to its size and quality, that must be determined later. + +"Yes," thought James Starr, "behind that wall lies a carboniferous bed, +undiscovered by our soundings. It is vexatious that all the apparatus +of the mine, deserted for ten years, must be set up anew. Never mind. +We have found the vein which was thought to be exhausted, and this time +it shall be worked to the end!" + +"Well, Mr. Starr," asked Ford, "what do you think of our discovery? +Was I wrong to trouble you? Are you sorry to have paid this visit +to the Dochart pit?" + +"No, no, my old friend!" answered Starr. "We have not lost +our time; but we shall be losing it now, if we do not return +immediately to the cottage. To-morrow we will come back here. +We will blast this wall with dynamite. We will lay open +the new vein, and after a series of soundings, if the seam +appears to be large, I will form a new Aberfoyle Company, +to the great satisfaction of the old shareholders. +Before three months have passed, the first corves full of coal +will have been taken from the new vein." + +"Well said, sir!" cried Simon Ford. "The old mine will grow young again, +like a widow who remarries! The bustle of the old days will soon +begin with the blows of the pick, and mattock, blasts of powder, +rumbling of wagons, neighing of horses, creaking of machines! +I shall see it all again! I hope, Mr. Starr, that you will not think +me too old to résumé my duties of overman?" + +"No, Simon, no indeed! You wear better than I do, my old friend!" + +"And, sir, you shall be our viewer again. May the new working +last for many years, and pray Heaven I shall have the consolation +of dying without seeing the end of it!" + +The old miner was overflowing with joy. James Starr fully +entered into it; but he let Ford rave for them both. +Harry alone remained thoughtful. To his memory recurred +the succession of singular, inexplicable circumstances + +314 + +attending the discovery of the new bed. It made him uneasy +about the future. + +An hour afterwards, James Starr and his two companions were +back in the cottage. The engineer supped with good appetite, +listening with satisfaction to all the plans unfolded by the old overman; +and had it not been for his excitement about the next day's work, +he would never have slept better than in the perfect stillness +of the cottage. + +The following day, after a substantial breakfast, +James Starr, Simon Ford, Harry, and even Madge herself, took the road +already traversed the day before. All looked like regular miners. +They carried different tools, and some dynamite with which to blast +the rock. Harry, besides a large lantern, took a safety lamp, +which would burn for twelve hours. It was more than was necessary +for the journey there and back, including the time for the working-- +supposing a working was possible. + +"To work! to work!" shouted Ford, when the party reached the further +end of the passage; and he grasped a heavy crowbar and brandished it. + +"Stop one instant," said Starr. "Let us see if any change has +taken place, and if the fire-damp still escapes through the crevices." + +"You are right, Mr. Starr," said Harry. "Whoever stopped it up +yesterday may have done it again to-day!" + +Madge, seated on a rock, carefully observed the excavation, +and the wall which was to be blasted. + +It was found that everything was just as they left it. The crevices had +undergone no alteration; the carburetted hydrogen still filtered through, +though in a small stream, which was no doubt because it had had +a free passage since the day before. As the quantity was so small, +it could not have formed an explosive mixture with the air inside. +James Starr and his companions could therefore proceed in security. +Besides, the air grew purer by rising to the heights of the Dochart pit; +and the fire-damp, spreading through the atmosphere, would not be strong +enough to make any explosion. + +"To work, then!" repeated Ford; and soon the rock flew in splinters +under his skillful blows. The break was chiefly composed +of pudding-stone, interspersed with sandstone and schist, +such as is most often met with between the coal + +veins. James Starr picked up some of the pieces, and examined +them carefully, hoping to discover some trace of coal. + +Starr having chosen the place where the holes were to be drilled, +they were rapidly bored by Harry. Some cartridges of dynamite +were put into them. As soon as the long, tarred safety +match was laid, it was lighted on a level with the ground. +James Starr and his companions then went off to some distance. + +"Oh! Mr. Starr," said Simon Ford, a prey to agitation, which he did +not attempt to conceal, "never, no, never has my old heart beaten +so quick before! I am longing to get at the vein!" + +"Patience, Simon!" responded the engineer. "You don't mean +to say that you think you are going to find a passage all ready +open behind that dyke?" + +"Excuse me, sir," answered the old overman; "but of course I think so! +If there was good luck in the way Harry and I discovered this place, +why shouldn't the good luck go on?" + +As he spoke, came the explosion. A sound as of thunder +rolled through the labyrinth of subterranean galleries. +Starr, Madge, Harry, and Simon Ford hastened towards the spot. + +"Mr. Starr! Mr. Starr!" shouted the overman. "Look! the door +is broken open!" + +Ford's comparison was justified by the appearance of +an excavation, the depth of which could not be calculated. +Harry was about to spring through the opening; but the engineer, +though excessively surprised to find this cavity, held him back. +"Allow time for the air in there to get pure," said he. + +"Yes! beware of the foul air!" said Simon. + +A quarter of an hour was passed in anxious waiting. +The lantern was then fastened to the end of a stick, and introduced +into the cave, where it continued to burn with unaltered brilliancy. +"Now then, Harry, go," said Starr, "and we will follow you." + +The opening made by the dynamite was sufficiently large +to allow a man to pass through. Harry, lamp in hand, +entered unhesitatingly, and disappeared in the darkness. +His father, mother, and James Starr waited in silence. +A minute--which seemed to them much longer--passed. Harry did +not reappear, did not call. Gazing into the opening, + +James Starr could not even see the light of his lamp, which ought +to have illuminated the dark cavern. + +Had the ground suddenly given way under Harry's feet? +Had the young miner fallen into some crevice? Could his voice +no longer reach his companions? + +The old overman, dead to their remonstrances, was about to enter +the opening, when a light appeared, dim at first, but gradually +growing brighter, and Harry's voice was heard shouting, +"Come, Mr. Starr! come, father! The road to New Aberfoyle is open!" + +If, by some superhuman power, engineers could have raised in a block, +a thousand feet thick, all that portion of the terrestrial +crust which supports the lakes, rivers, gulfs, and territories +of the counties of Stirling, Dumbarton, and Renfrew, they would +have found, under that enormous lid, an immense excavation, +to which but one other in the world can be compared-- +the celebrated Mammoth caves of Kentucky. This excavation was +composed of several hundred divisions of all sizes and shapes. +It might be called a hive with numberless ranges of cells, +capriciously arranged, but a hive on a vast scale, and which, +instead of bees, might have lodged all the ichthyosauri, +megatheriums, and ptero-dactyles of the geological epoch. + +A labyrinth of galleries, some higher than the most lofty cathedrals, +others like cloisters, narrow and winding--these following a horizontal +line, those on an incline or running obliquely in all directions-- +connected the caverns and allowed free communication between them. + +The pillars sustaining the vaulted roofs, whose curves allowed +of every style, the massive walls between the passages, the naves +themselves in this layer of secondary formation, were composed +of sandstone and schistous rocks. But tightly packed between these +useless strata ran valuable veins of coal, as if the black blood +of this strange mine had circulated through their tangled network. +These fields extended forty miles north and south, and stretched +even under the Caledonian Canal. The importance of this bed could +not be calculated until after soundings, but it would certainly +surpass those of Cardiff and Newcastle. + +We may add that the working of this mine would be singularly +facilitated by the fantastic dispositions of the secondary earths; +for by an unaccountable retreat of the mineral matter +at the geological epoch, when the mass was solidifying, +nature had already multiplied the galleries and tunnels of New Aberfoyle. + +Yes, nature alone! It might at first have been supposed that some works +abandoned for centuries had been discovered afresh. Nothing of the sort. +No one would have deserted such riches. Human termites had never gnawed +away this part of the Scottish subsoil; nature herself had done it all. +But, we repeat, it could be compared to nothing but the celebrated +Mammoth caves, which, in an extent of more than twenty miles, +contain two hundred and twenty-six avenues, eleven lakes, seven rivers, +eight cataracts, thirty-two unfathomable wells, and fifty-seven domes, +some of which are more than four hundred and fifty feet in height. +Like these caves, New Aberfoyle was not the work of men, but the work +of the Creator. + +Such was this new domain, of matchless wealth, the discovery +of which belonged entirely to the old overman. Ten years' +sojourn in the deserted mine, an uncommon pertinacity in research, +perfect faith, sustained by a marvelous mining instinct-- +all these qualities together led him to succeed where so many +others had failed. Why had the soundings made under the direction +of James Starr during the last years of the working stopped +just at that limit, on the very frontier of the new mine? +That was all chance, which takes great part in researches +of this kind. + +However that might be, there was, under the Scottish subsoil, +what might be called a subterranean county, which, to be habitable, +needed only the rays of the sun, or, for want of that, the light +of a special planet. + +Water had collected in various hollows, forming vast ponds, +or rather lakes larger than Loch Katrine, lying just above them. +Of course the waters of these lakes had no movement of currents or tides; +no old castle was reflected there; no birch or oak trees waved on +their banks. And yet these deep lakes, whose mirror-like surface +was never ruffled by a breeze, would not be without charm by the light +of some electric star, and, connected by a string of canals, +would well complete the geography of this strange domain. + +Although unfit for any vegetable production, the place could be inhabited +by a whole population. And who knows but that in this steady temperature, +in the depths of the + +mines of Aberfoyle, as well as in those of Newcastle, Alloa, or Cardiff-- +when their contents shall have been exhausted--who knows but that +the poorer classes of Great Britain will some day find a refuge? + + +CHAPTER VIII EXPLORING + + +AT Harry's call, James Starr, Madge, and Simon Ford entered +through the narrow orifice which put the Dochart pit in +communication with the new mine. They found themselves at +the beginning of a tolerably wide gallery. One might well believe +that it had been pierced by the hand of man, that the pick +and mattock had emptied it in the working of a new vein. +The explorers question whether, by a strange chance, they had +not been transported into some ancient mine, of the existence +of which even the oldest miners in the county had ever known. + +No! It was merely that the geological layers had left this +passage when the secondary earths were in course of formation. +Perhaps some torrent had formerly dashed through it; but now it +was as dry as if it had been cut some thousand feet lower, +through granite rocks. At the same time, the air circulated freely, +which showed that certain natural vents placed it in communication +with the exterior atmosphere. + +This observation, made by the engineer, was correct, and it was +evident that the ventilation of the new mine would be easily managed. +As to the fire-damp which had lately filtered through the schist, +it seemed to have been contained in a pocket now empty, and it was +certain that the atmosphere of the gallery was quite free from it. +However, Harry prudently carried only the safety lamp, which would +insure light for twelve hours. + +James Starr and his companions now felt perfectly happy. +All their wishes were satisfied. There was nothing but coal around them. +A sort of emotion kept them silent; even Simon Ford restrained himself. +His joy overflowed, not in long phrases, but in short ejaculations. + +It was perhaps imprudent to venture so far into the crypt. +Pooh! they never thought of how they were to get back. + +The gallery was practicable, not very winding. They met +with no noxious exhalations, nor did any chasm bar the path. +There was no reason for stopping for a whole hour; +James Starr, Madge, Harry, and Simon Ford walked on, +though there was nothing to show them what was the exact +direction of this unknown tunnel. + +And they would no doubt have gone farther still, if they had not +suddenly come to the end of the wide road which they had followed +since their entrance into the mine. + +The gallery ended in an enormous cavern, neither the height nor +depth of which could be calculated. At what altitude arched +the roof of this excavation--at what distance was its opposite wall-- +the darkness totally concealed; but by the light of the lamp the explorers +could discover that its dome covered a vast extent of still water-- +pond or lake--whose picturesque rocky banks were lost in obscurity. + +"Halt!" exclaimed Ford, stopping suddenly. "Another step, +and perhaps we shall fall into some fathomless pit." + +"Let us rest awhile, then, my friends," returned the engineer. +"Besides, we ought to be thinking of returning to the cottage." + +"Our lamp will give light for another ten hours, sir," said Harry. + +"Well, let us make a halt," replied Starr; "I confess my legs +have need of a rest. And you, Madge, don't you feel tired +after so long a walk?" + +"Not over much, Mr. Starr," replied the sturdy Scotchwoman; +"we have been accustomed to explore the old Aberfoyle mine +for whole days together." + +"Tired? nonsense!" interrupted Simon Ford; "Madge could go +ten times as far, if necessary. But once more, Mr. Starr, +wasn't my communication worth your trouble in coming to hear it? +Just dare to say no, Mr. Starr, dare to say no!" + +"Well, my old friend, I haven't felt so happy for a long while!" +replied the engineer; "the small part of this marvelous mine that we +have explored seems to show that its extent is very considerable, +at least in length." + +"In width and in depth, too, Mr. Starr!" returned Simon Ford. + +"That we shall know later." + + +"And I can answer for it! Trust to the instinct of an old miner! +It has never deceived me!" + +"I wish to believe you, Simon," replied the engineer, smiling. +"As far as I can judge from this short exploration, we possess +the elements of a working which will last for centuries!" + +"Centuries!" exclaimed Simon Ford; "I believe you, sir! +A thousand years and more will pass before the last bit of coal +is taken out of our new mine!" + +"Heaven grant it!" returned Starr. "As to the quality of the coal +which crops out of these walls?" + +"Superb! Mr. Starr, superb!" answered Ford; "just look at it yourself!" + +And so saying, with his pick he struck off a fragment of the black rock. + +"Look! look!" he repeated, holding it close to his lamp; +"the surface of this piece of coal is shining! We have here fat coal, +rich in bituminous matter; and see how it comes in pieces, +almost without dust! Ah, Mr. Starr! twenty years ago this +seam would have entered into a strong competition with Swansea +and Cardiff! Well, stokers will quarrel for it still, and if it +costs little to extract it from the mine, it will not sell +at a less price outside." + +"Indeed," said Madge, who had taken the fragment of coal and was +examining it with the air of a connoisseur; "that's good quality +of coal. Carry it home, Simon, carry it back to the cottage! +I want this first piece of coal to burn under our kettle." + +"Well said, wife!" answered the old overman, "and you shall see +that I am not mistaken." + +"Mr. Starr," asked Harry, "have you any idea of the probable direction +of this long passage which we have been following since our entrance +into the new mine?" + +"No, my lad," replied the engineer; "with a compass I could +perhaps find out its general bearing; but without a compass +I am here like a sailor in open sea, in the midst of fogs, +when there is no sun by which to calculate his position." + +"No doubt, Mr. Starr," replied Ford; "but pray don't compare +our position with that of the sailor, who has everywhere and +always an abyss under his feet! We are on firm ground here, +and need never be afraid of foundering." + + +"I won't tease you, then, old Simon," answered James Starr. "Far be +it from me even in jest to depreciate the New Aberfoyle mine +by an unjust comparison! I only meant to say one thing, +and that is that we don't know where we are." + +"We are in the subsoil of the county of Stirling, Mr. Starr," +replied Simon Ford; "and that I assert as if--" + +"Listen!" said Harry, interrupting the old man. +All listened, as the young miner was doing. His ears, which were +very sharp, had caught a dull sound, like a distant murmur. +His companions were not long in hearing it themselves. +It was above their heads, a sort of rolling sound, in which though +it was so feeble, the successive CRESCENDO and DIMINUENDO could +be distinctly heard. + +All four stood for some minutes, their ears on the stretch, +without uttering a word. All at once Simon Ford exclaimed, +"Well, I declare! Are trucks already running on the rails +of New Aberfoyle?" + +"Father," replied Harry, "it sounds to me just like the noise +made by waves rolling on the sea shore." + +"We can't be under the sea though!" cried the old overman. + +"No," said the engineer, "but it is not impossible that we +should be under Loch Katrine." + +"The roof cannot have much thickness just here, if the noise +of the water is perceptible." + +"Very little indeed," answered James Starr, "and that is the reason +this cavern is so huge." + +"You must be right, Mr. Starr," said Harry. + +"Besides, the weather is so bad outside," resumed Starr, "that the waters +of the loch must be as rough as those of the Firth of Forth." + +"Well! what does it matter after all?" returned Simon Ford; +"the seam won't be any the worse because it is under a loch. +It would not be the first time that coal has been looked for under +the very bed of the ocean! When we have to work under the bottom +of the Caledonian Canal, where will be the harm?" + +"Well said, Simon," cried the engineer, who could not restrain a smile +at the overman's enthusiasm; "let us cut our trenches under the waters +of the sea! Let us bore the bed of the Atlantic like a strainer; +let us with our picks join + +our brethren of the United States through the subsoil of the +ocean! let us dig into the center of the globe if necessary, +to tear out the last scrap of coal." + +"Are you joking, Mr. Starr?" asked Ford, with a pleased but +slightly suspicious look. + +"I joking, old man? no! but you are so enthusiastic that you +carry me away into the regions of impossibility! Come, let us +return to the reality, which is sufficiently beautiful; +leave our picks here, where we may find them another day, +and let's take the road back to the cottage." + +Nothing more could be done for the time. Later, the engineer, +accompanied by a brigade of miners, supplied with lamps +and all necessary tools, would résumé the exploration of +New Aberfoyle. It was now time to return to the Dochart pit. +The road was easy, the gallery running nearly straight +through the rock up to the orifice opened by the dynamite, +so there was no fear of their losing themselves. + +But as James Starr was proceeding towards the gallery +Simon Ford stopped him. + +"Mr. Starr," said he, "you see this immense cavern, +this subterranean lake, whose waters bathe this strand at our feet? +Well! it is to this place I mean to change my dwelling, +here I will build a new cottage, and if some brave fellows will +follow my example, before a year is over there will be one town +more inside old England." + +James Starr, smiling approval of Ford's plans, pressed his hand, +and all three, preceding Madge, re-entered the gallery, on their way +back to the Dochart pit. For the first mile no incident occurred. +Harry walked first, holding his lamp above his head. +He carefully followed the principal gallery, without ever turning +aside into the narrow tunnels which radiated to the right and left. +It seemed as if the returning was to be accomplished as easily +as the going, when an unexpected accident occurred which rendered +the situation of the explorers very serious. + +Just at a moment when Harry was raising his lamp there came +a rush of air, as if caused by the flapping of invisible wings. +The lamp escaped from his hands, fell on the rocky ground, +and was broken to pieces. + +James Starr and his companions were suddenly plunged +in absolute darkness. All the oil of the lamp was spilt, +and it was of no further use. "Well, Harry," cried his father, + +"do you want us all to break our necks on the way back to the cottage?" + +Harry did not answer. He wondered if he ought to suspect +the hand of a mysterious being in this last accident? +Could there possibly exist in these depths an enemy whose +unaccountable antagonism would one day create serious difficulties? +Had someone an interest in defending the new coal field against +any attempt at working it? In truth that seemed absurd, +yet the facts spoke for themselves, and they accumulated in such +a way as to change simple presumptions into certainties. + +In the meantime the explorers' situation was bad enough. +They had now, in the midst of black darkness, to follow +the passage leading to the Dochart pit for nearly five miles. +There they would still have an hour's walk before reaching the cottage. + +"Come along," said Simon Ford. "We have no time to lose. +We must grope our way along, like blind men. There's no fear +of losing our way. The tunnels which open off our road are +only just like those in a molehill, and by following the chief +gallery we shall of course reach the opening we got in at. +After that, it is the old mine. We know that, and it won't +be the first time that Harry and I have found ourselves there +in the dark. Besides, there we shall find the lamps that we left. +Forward then! Harry, go first. Mr. Starr, follow him. +Madge, you go next, and I will bring up the rear. +Above everything, don't let us get separated." + +All complied with the old overman's instructions. +As he said, by groping carefully, they could not mistake the way. +It was only necessary to make the hands take the place of the eyes, +and to trust to their instinct, which had with Simon Ford +and his son become a second nature. + +James Starr and his companions walked on in the order agreed. +They did not speak, but it was not for want of thinking. It became +evident that they had an adversary. But what was he, and how were they +to defend themselves against these mysteriously-prepared attacks? +These disquieting ideas crowded into their brains. However, this was +not the moment to get discouraged. + +Harry, his arms extended, advanced with a firm step, touching first +one and then the other side of the passage. + +If a cleft or side opening presented itself, he felt with his hand +that it was not the main way; either the cleft was too shallow, +or the opening too narrow, and he thus kept in the right road. + +In darkness through which the eye could not in the slightest +degree pierce, this difficult return lasted two hours. +By reckoning the time since they started, taking into +consideration that the walking had not been rapid, +Starr calculated that he and his companions were near the opening. +In fact, almost immediately, Harry stopped. + +"Have we got to the end of the gallery?" asked Simon Ford. + +"Yes," answered the young miner. + +"Well! have you not found the hole which connects New Aberfoyle +with the Dochart pit?" + +"No," replied Harry, whose impatient hands met with nothing +but a solid wall. + +The old overman stepped forward, and himself felt the schistous rock. +A cry escaped him. + +Either the explorers had strayed from the right path on their return, +or the narrow orifice, broken in the rock by the dynamite, had been +recently stopped up. James Starr and his companions were prisoners +in New Aberfoyle. + + +CHAPTER IX THE FIRE-MAIDENS + + +A WEEK after the events just related had taken place, James Starr's +friends had become very anxious. The engineer had disappeared, +and no reason could be brought forward to explain his absence. +They learnt, by questioning his servant, that he had embarked +at Granton Pier. But from that time there were no traces +of James Starr. Simon Ford's letter had requested secrecy, +and he had said nothing of his departure for the Aberfoyle mines. + +Therefore in Edinburgh nothing was talked of but the unaccountable +absence of the engineer. Sir W. Elphiston, the President +of the Royal Institution, communicated to his colleagues +a letter which James Starr had sent him, excusing himself +from being present at the next meeting of the society. +Two or three others produced similar letters. But + +though these documents proved that Starr had left Edinburgh-- +which was known before--they threw no light on what had become +of him. Now, on the part of such a man, this prolonged absence, +so contrary to his usual habits, naturally first caused surprise, +and then anxiety. + +A notice was inserted in the principal newspapers of the United Kingdom +relative to the engineer James Starr, giving a description +of him and the date on which he left Edinburgh; nothing more +could be done but to wait. The time passed in great anxiety. +The scientific world of England was inclined to believe that one +of its most distinguished members had positively disappeared. +At the same time, when so many people were thinking about +James Starr, Harry Ford was the subject of no less anxiety. +Only, instead of occupying public attention, the son of the old +overman was the cause of trouble alone to the generally cheerful +mind of Jack Ryan. + +It may be remembered that, in their encounter in the Yarrow shaft, +Jack Ryan had invited Harry to come a week afterwards to the festivities +at Irvine. Harry had accepted and promised expressly to be there. +Jack Ryan knew, having had it proved by many circumstances, +that his friend was a man of his word. With him, a thing promised was +a thing done. Now, at the Irvine merry-making, nothing was wanting; +neither song, nor dance, nor fun of any sort--nothing but Harry Ford. + +The notice relative to James Starr, published in the papers, +had not yet been seen by Ryan. The honest fellow was therefore +only worried by Harry's absence, telling himself that something +serious could alone have prevented him from keeping his promise. +So, the day after the Irvine games, Jack Ryan intended to take the railway +from Glasgow and go to the Dochart pit; and this he would have done +had he not been detained by an accident which nearly cost him his life. +Something which occurred on the night of the 12th of December was of a +nature to support the opinions of all partisans of the supernatural, +and there were many at Melrose Farm. + +Irvine, a little seaport of Renfrew, containing nearly seven +thousand inhabitants, lies in a sharp bend made by the Scottish coast, +near the mouth of the Firth of Clyde. The most ancient and the most +famed ruins on this part + +of the coast were those of this castle of Robert Stuart, +which bore the name of Dundonald Castle. + +At this period Dundonald Castle, a refuge for all the stray goblins +of the country, was completely deserted. It stood on the top +of a high rock, two miles from the town, and was seldom visited. +Sometimes a few strangers took it into their heads to explore +these old historical remains, but then they always went alone. +The inhabitants of Irvine would not have taken them there +at any price. Indeed, several legends were based on the story +of certain "fire-maidens," who haunted the old castle. + +The most superstitious declared they had seen these fantastic +creatures with their own eyes. Jack Ryan was naturally one of them. +It was a fact that from time to time long flames appeared, +sometimes on a broken piece of wall, sometimes on the summit +of the tower which was the highest point of Dundonald Castle. + +Did these flames really assume a human shape, as was asserted? +Did they merit the name of fire-maidens, given them by the people +of the coast? It was evidently just an optical delusion, +aided by a good deal of credulity, and science could easily +have explained the phenomenon. + +However that might be, these fire-maidens had the reputation +of frequenting the ruins of the old castle and there +performing wild strathspeys, especially on dark nights. +Jack Ryan, bold fellow though he was, would never have dared +to accompany those dances with the music of his bagpipes. + +"Old Nick is enough for them!" said he. "He doesn't need me +to complete his infernal orchestra." + +We may well believe that these strange apparitions +frequently furnished a text for the evening stories. +Jack Ryan was ending the evening with one of these. +His auditors, transported into the phantom world, were worked +up into a state of mind which would believe anything. + +All at once shouts were heard outside. Jack Ryan stopped short +in the middle of his story, and all rushed out of the barn. +The night was pitchy dark. Squalls of wind and rain swept along +the beach. Two or three fishermen, their backs against a rock, +the better to resist the wind, were shouting at the top +of their voices. + +Jack Ryan and his companions ran up to them. The + +shouts were, however, not for the inhabitants of the farm, but to warn +men who, without being aware of it, were going to destruction. +A dark, confused mass appeared some way out at sea. It was a vessel whose +position could be seen by her lights, for she carried a white one on +her foremast, a green on the starboard side, and a red on the outside. +She was evidently running straight on the rocks. + +"A ship in distress?" said Ryan. + +"Ay," answered one of the fishermen, "and now they want to tack, +but it's too late!" + +"Do they want to run ashore?" said another. + +"It seems so," responded one of the fishermen, "unless he has +been misled by some--" + +The man was interrupted by a yell from Jack. Could the crew +have heard it? At any rate, it was too late for them to beat back +from the line of breakers which gleamed white in the darkness. + +But it was not, as might be supposed, a last effort of Ryan's to warn +the doomed ship. He now had his back to the sea. His companions +turned also, and gazed at a spot situated about half a mile inland. +It was Dundonald Castle. A long flame twisted and bent under the gale, +on the summit of the old tower. + +"The Fire-Maiden!" cried the superstitious men in terror. + +Clearly, it needed a good strong imagination to find any human +likeness in that flame. Waving in the wind like a luminous flag, +it seemed sometimes to fly round the tower, as if it was just going out, +and a moment after it was seen again dancing on its blue point. + +"The Fire-Maiden! the Fire-Maiden!" cried the terrified +fishermen and peasants. + +All was then explained. The ship, having lost her reckoning in the fog, +had taken this flame on the top of Dundonald Castle for the Irvine light. +She thought herself at the entrance of the Firth, ten miles to the north, +when she was really running on a shore which offered no refuge. + +What could be done to save her, if there was still time? It was +too late. A frightful crash was heard above the tumult of the elements. +The vessel had struck. The white line of surf was broken for an instant; +she heeled over on her side and lay among the rocks. + + +At the same time, by a strange coincidence, the long flame disappeared, +as if it had been swept away by a violent gust. Earth, sea, and sky +were plunged in complete darkness. + +"The Fire-Maiden!" shouted Ryan, for the last time, as the apparition, +which he and his companions believed supernatural, disappeared. +But then the courage of these superstitious Scotchmen, +which had failed before a fancied danger, returned in face +of a real one, which they were ready to brave in order to save +their fellow-creatures. The tempest did not deter them. +As heroic as they had before been credulous, fastening ropes +round their waists, they rushed into the waves to the aid +of those on the wreck. + +Happily, they succeeded in their endeavors, although some--and bold +Jack Ryan was among the number--were severely wounded on the rocks. +But the captain of the vessel and the eight sailors who composed +his crew were hauled up, safe and sound, on the beach. + +The ship was the Norwegian brig MOTALA, laden with timber, and bound +for Glasgow. Of the MOTALA herself nothing remained but a few spars, +washed up by the waves, and dashed among the rocks on the beach. + +Jack Ryan and three of his companions, wounded like himself, +were carried into a room of Melrose Farm, where every care +was lavished on them. Ryan was the most hurt, for when with +the rope round his waist he had rushed into the sea, the waves +had almost immediately dashed him back against the rocks. +He was brought, indeed, very nearly lifeless on to the beach. + +The brave fellow was therefore confined to bed for several days, +to his great disgust. However, as soon as he was given permission +to sing as much as he liked, he bore his trouble patiently, +and the farm echoed all day with his jovial voice. +But from this adventure he imbibed a more lively sentiment +of fear with regard to brownies and other goblins who amuse +themselves by plaguing mankind, and he made them responsible +for the catastrophe of the Motala. It would have been vain +to try and convince him that the Fire-Maidens did not exist, +and that the flame, so suddenly appearing among the ruins, was but +a natural phenomenon. No reasoning could make him believe it. +His companions were, if possible, more obstinate than he in + +their credulity. According to them, one of the Fire-Maidens +had maliciously attracted the MOTALA to the coast. As to wishing +to punish her, as well try to bring the tempest to justice! +The magistrates might order what arrests they pleased, but a flame +cannot be imprisoned, an impalpable being can't be handcuffed. +It must be acknowledged that the researches which were ultimately +made gave ground, at least in appearance, to this superstitious +way of explaining the facts. + +The inquiry was made with great care. Officials came to Dundonald Castle, +and they proceeded to conduct a most vigorous search. +The magistrate wished first to ascertain if the ground bore +any footprints, which could be attributed to other than goblins' feet. +It was impossible to find the least trace, whether old or new. +Moreover, the earth, still damp from the rain of the day before, +would have preserved the least vestige. + +The result of all this was, that the magistrates only got for their +trouble a new legend added to so many others--a legend which would +be perpetuated by the remembrance of the catastrophe of the MOTALA, +and indisputably confirm the truth of the apparition of the Fire-Maidens. + +A hearty fellow like Jack Ryan, with so strong a constitution, +could not be long confined to his bed. A few sprains and bruises +were not quite enough to keep him on his back longer than he liked. +He had not time to be ill. + +Jack, therefore, soon got well. As soon as he was on his legs again, +before resuming his work on the farm, he wished to go and visit +his friend Harry, and learn why he had not come to the Irvine +merry-making. He could not understand his absence, for Harry +was not a man who would willingly promise and not perform. +It was unlikely, too, that the son of the old overman had not +heard of the wreck of the MOTALA, as it was in all the papers. +He must know the part Jack had taken in it, and what had happened +to him, and it was unlike Harry not to hasten to the farm and see +how his old chum was going on. + +As Harry had not come, there must have been something to prevent him. +Jack Ryan would as soon deny the existence of the Fire-Maidens as believe +in Harry's indifference. + +Two days after the catastrophe Jack left the farm merily, +feeling nothing of his wounds. Singing in the fullness +of his heart, he awoke the echoes of the cliff, as he walked +to the station of the railway, which VIA Glasgow would take +him to Stirling and Callander. + +As he was waiting for his train, his attention was attracted by a bill +posted up on the walls, containing the following notice: + +"On the 4th of December, the engineer, James Starr, +of Edinburgh, embarked from Granton Pier, on board the Prince +of Wales. He disembarked the same day at Stirling. From that +time nothing further has been heard of him. + +"Any information concerning him is requested to be sent to the President +of the Royal Institution, Edinburgh." + +Jack Ryan, stopping before one of these advertisements, +read it twice over, with extreme surprise. + +"Mr. Starr!" he exclaimed. "Why, on the 4th of December I +met him with Harry on the ladder of the Dochart pit! +That was ten days ago! And he has not been seen from that time! +That explains why my chum didn't come to Irvine." + +And without taking time to inform the President of the Royal Institution +by letter, what he knew relative to James Starr, Jack jumped into +the train, determining to go first of all to the Yarrow shaft. +There he would descend to the depths of the pit, if necessary, +to find Harry, and with him was sure to be the engineer James Starr. + +"They haven't turned up again," said he to himself. "Why? Has anything +prevented them? Could any work of importance keep them still at +the bottom of the mine? I must find out!" and Ryan, hastening his steps, +arrived in less than an hour at the Yarrow shaft. + +Externally nothing was changed. The same silence around. +Not a living creature was moving in that desert region. +Jack entered the ruined shed which covered the opening of the shaft. +He gazed down into the dark abyss--nothing was to be seen. +He listened--nothing was to be heard. + +"And my lamp!" he exclaimed; "suppose it isn't in its place!" +The lamp which Ryan used when he visited the pit was usually +deposited in a corner, near the landing of the topmost ladder. +It had disappeared. + +"Here is a nuisance!" said Jack, beginning to feel rather + +uneasy. Then, without hesitating, superstitious though he was, +"I will go," said he, "though it's as dark down there as in the lowest +depths of the infernal regions!" + +And he began to descend the long flight of ladders, which led +down the gloomy shaft. Jack Ryan had not forgotten his old +mining habits, and he was well acquainted with the Dochart pit, +or he would scarcely have dared to venture thus. +He went very carefully, however. His foot tried each round, +as some of them were worm-eaten. A false step would entail +a deadly fall, through this space of fifteen hundred feet. +He counted each landing as he passed it, knowing that he could +not reach the bottom of the shaft until he had left the thirtieth. +Once there, he would have no trouble, so he thought, +in finding the cottage, built, as we have said, at the extremity +of the principal passage. + +Jack Ryan went on thus until he got to the twenty-sixth landing, +and consequently had two hundred feet between him and the bottom. + +Here he put down his leg to feel for the first rung of the twenty-seventh +ladder. But his foot swinging in space found nothing to rest on. +He knelt down and felt about with his hand for the top of the ladder. +It was in vain. + +"Old Nick himself must have been down this way!" said Jack, +not without a slight feeling of terror. + +He stood considering for some time, with folded arms, +and longing to be able to pierce the impenetrable darkness. +Then it occurred to him that if he could not get down, +neither could the inhabitants of the mine get up. There was now no +communication between the depths of the pit and the upper regions. +If the removal of the lower ladders of the Yarrow shaft had been +effected since his last visit to the cottage, what had become +of Simon Ford, his wife, his son, and the engineer? + +The prolonged absence of James Starr proved that he had not +left the pit since the day Ryan met with him in the shaft. +How had the cottage been provisioned since then? +The food of these unfortunate people, imprisoned fifteen hundred +feet below the surface of the ground, must have been exhausted +by this time. + +All this passed through Jack's mind, as he saw that by himself +he could do nothing to get to the cottage. He had no doubt +but that communication had been interrupted + +with a malevolent intention. At any rate, the authorities must +be informed, and that as soon as possible. + +Jack Ryan bent forward from the landing. + +"Harry! Harry!" he shouted with his powerful voice. + +Harry's name echoed and re-echoed among the rocks, and finally died +away in the depths of the shaft. + +Ryan rapidly ascended the upper ladders and returned to the light of day. +Without losing a moment he reached the Callander station, just caught the +express to Edinburgh, and by three o'clock was before the Lord Provost. + +There his declaration was received. His account was given so clearly +that it could not be doubted. Sir William Elphiston, President of +the Royal Institution, and not only colleague, but a personal +friend of Starr's, was also informed, and asked to direct +the search which was to be made without delay in the mine. +Several men were placed at his disposal, supplied with lamps, +picks, long rope ladders, not forgetting provisions and cordials. +Then guided by Jack Ryan, the party set out for the Aberfoyle mines. + +The same evening the expedition arrived at the opening of +the Yarrow shaft, and descended to the twenty-seventh landing, +at which Jack Ryan had been stopped a few hours previously. +The lamps, fastened to long ropes, were lowered down the shaft, +and it was thus ascertained that the four last ladders were wanting. + +As soon as the lamps had been brought up, the men fixed to +the landing a rope ladder, which unrolled itself down the shaft, +and all descended one after the other. Jack Ryan's descent was +the most difficult, for he went first down the swinging ladders, +and fastened them for the others. + +The space at the bottom of the shaft was completely deserted; +but Sir William was much surprised at hearing Jack Ryan exclaim, +"Here are bits of the ladders, and some of them half burnt!" + +"Burnt?" repeated Sir William. "Indeed, here sure enough are cinders +which have evidently been cold a long time!" + +"Do you think, sir," asked Ryan, "that Mr. Starr could have had any +reason for burning the ladders, and thus breaking of communication +with the world?" + +"Certainly not," answered Sir William Elphiston, who + +had become very thoughtful. "Come, my lad, lead us to the cottage. +There we shall ascertain the truth." + +Jack Ryan shook his head, as if not at all convinced. +Then, taking a lamp from the hands of one of the men, he proceeded +with a rapid step along the principal passage of the Dochart pit. +The others all followed him. + +In a quarter of an hour the party arrived at the excavation +in which stood Simon Ford's cottage. There was no light +in the window. Ryan darted to the door, and threw it open. +The house was empty. + +They examined all the rooms in the somber habitation. +No trace of violence was to be found. All was in order, as if old +Madge had been still there. There was even an ample supply +of provisions, enough to last the Ford family for several days. + +The absence of the tenants of the cottage was quite unaccountable. +But was it not possible to find out the exact time they had quitted it? +Yes, for in this region, where there was no difference of day or night, +Madge was accustomed to mark with a cross each day in her almanac. + +The almanac was pinned up on the wall, and there the last cross +had been made at the 6th of December; that is to say, a day after +the arrival of James Starr, to which Ryan could positively swear. +It was clear that on the 6th of December, ten days ago, +Simon Ford, his wife, son, and guest, had quitted the cottage. +Could a fresh exploration of the mine, undertaken by the engineer, +account for such a long absence? Certainly not. + +It was intensely dark all round. The lamps held by the men gave light +only just where they were standing. Suddenly Jack Ryan uttered a cry. +"Look there, there!" + +His finger was pointing to a tolerably bright light, which was +moving about in the distance. "After that light, my men!" +exclaimed Sir William. + +"It's a goblin light!" said Ryan. "So what's the use? +We shall never catch it." + +The president and his men, little given to superstition, +darted off in the direction of the moving light. Jack Ryan, +bravely following their example, quickly overtook the head-most +of the party. + +It was a long and fatiguing chase. The lantern seemed to be carried +by a being of small size, but singular agility. + +Every now and then it disappeared behind some pillar, then was seen +again at the end of a cross gallery. A sharp turn would place +it out of sight, and it seemed to have completely disappeared, +when all at once there would be the light as bright as ever. +However, they gained very little on it, and Ryan's belief that they +could never catch it seemed far from groundless. + +After an hour of this vain pursuit Sir William Elphiston and his +companions had gone a long way in the southwest direction of the pit, +and began to think they really had to do with an impalpable being. +Just then it seemed as if the distance between the goblin and those who +were pursuing it was becoming less. Could it be fatigued, or did this +invisible being wish to entice Sir William and his companions to the place +where the inhabitants of the cottage had perhaps themselves been enticed. +It was hard to say. + +The men, seeing that the distance lessened, redoubled their efforts. +The light which had before burnt at a distance of more than +two hundred feet before them was now seen at less than fifty. +The space continued to diminish. The bearer of the lamp +became partially visible. Sometimes, when it turned its head, +the indistinct profile of a human face could be made out, +and unless a sprite could assume bodily shape, Jack Ryan +was obliged to confess that here was no supernatural being. +Then, springing forward,-- + +"Courage, comrades!" he exclaimed; "it is getting tired! +We shall soon catch it up now, and if it can talk as well as it +can run we shall hear a fine story." + +But the pursuit had suddenly become more difficult. +They were in unknown regions of the mine; narrow passages +crossed each other like the windings of a labyrinth. +The bearer of the lamp might escape them as easily as possible, +by just extinguishing the light and retreating into some dark refuge. + +"And indeed," thought Sir William, "if it wishes to avoid us, +why does it not do so?" + +Hitherto there had evidently been no intention to avoid them, +but just as the thought crossed Sir William's mind the light +suddenly disappeared, and the party, continuing the pursuit, +found themselves before an extremely narrow natural opening +in the schistous rocks. + + +To trim their lamps, spring forward, and dart through the opening, +was for Sir William and his party but the work of an instant. +But before they had gone a hundred paces along this new gallery, +much wider and loftier than the former, they all stopped short. +There, near the wall, lay four bodies, stretched on the ground-- +four corpses, perhaps! + +"James Starr!" exclaimed Sir William Elphiston. + +"Harry! Harry!" cried Ryan, throwing himself down beside his friend. + +It was indeed the engineer, Madge, Simon, and Harry Ford who were +lying there motionless. But one of the bodies moved slightly, +and Madge's voice was heard faintly murmuring, "See to the others! +help them first!" + +Sir William, Jack, and their companions endeavored to reanimate +the engineer and his friends by getting them to swallow a few drops +of brandy. They very soon succeeded. The unfortunate people, +shut up in that dark cavern for ten days, were dying of starvation. +They must have perished had they not on three occasions +found a loaf of bread and a jug of water set near them. +No doubt the charitable being to whom they owed their lives +was unable to do more for them. + +Sir William wondered whether this might not have been the work +of the strange sprite who had allured them to the very spot +where James Starr and his companions lay. + +However that might be, the engineer, Madge, Simon, and Harry Ford +were saved. They were assisted to the cottage, passing through +the narrow opening which the bearer of the strange light had apparently +wished to point out to Sir William. This was a natural opening. +The passage which James Starr and his companions had made for +themselves with dynamite had been completely blocked up with rocks +laid one upon another. + +So, then, whilst they had been exploring the vast cavern, the way +back had been purposely closed against them by a hostile hand. + + +CHAPTER X COAL TOWN + + +THREE years after the events which have just been related, +the guide-books recommended as a "great attraction," +to the numerous tourists who roam over the county of Stirling, +a visit of a few hours to the mines of New Aberfoyle. + +No mine in any country, either in the Old or New World, +could present a more curious aspect. + +To begin with, the visitor was transported without danger +or fatigue to a level with the workings, at fifteen +hundred feet below the surface of the ground. Seven miles +to the southwest of Callander opened a slanting tunnel, +adorned with a castellated entrance, turrets and battlements. +This lofty tunnel gently sloped straight to the stupendous crypt, +hollowed out so strangely in the bowels of the earth. + +A double line of railway, the wagons being moved by hydraulic power, +plied from hour to hour to and from the village thus buried in the subsoil +of the county, and which bore the rather ambitious title of Coal Town. + +Arrived in Coal Town, the visitor found himself in a place where +electricity played a principal part as an agent of heat and light. +Although the ventilation shafts were numerous, they were not +sufficient to admit much daylight into New Aberfoyle, yet it had +abundance of light. This was shed from numbers of electric discs; +some suspended from the vaulted roofs, others hanging on +the natural pillars--all, whether suns or stars in size, were fed +by continuous currents produced from electro-magnetic machines. +When the hour of rest arrived, an artificial night was easily +produced all over the mine by disconnecting the wires. + +Below the dome lay a lake of an extent to be compared to the Dead Sea +of the Mammoth caves--a deep lake whose transparent waters swarmed with +eyeless fish, and to which the engineer gave the name of Loch Malcolm. + +There, in this immense natural excavation, Simon Ford built his +new cottage, which he would not have exchanged for the finest house +in Prince's Street, Edinburgh. This dwelling was situated on the shores +of the loch, and its five windows looked out on the dark waters, +which extended further than the eye could see. Two months later a second +habitation was erected in the neighborhood of Simon Ford's cottage: +this was for James Starr. The engineer had given + +337 + +himself body and soul to New Aberfoyle, and nothing but the most +imperative necessity ever caused him to leave the pit. +There, then, he lived in the midst of his mining world. + +On the discovery of the new field, all the old colliers had hastened +to leave the plow and harrow, and résumé the pick and mattock. +Attracted by the certainty that work would never fail, allured by +the high wages which the prosperity of the mine enabled the company +to offer for labor, they deserted the open air for an underground life, +and took up their abode in the mines. + +The miners' houses, built of brick, soon grew up in a picturesque fashion; +some on the banks of Loch Malcolm, others under the arches which seemed +made to resist the weight that pressed upon them, like the piers +of a bridge. So was founded Coal Town, situated under the eastern +point of Loch Katrine, to the north of the county of Stirling. It was +a regular settlement on the banks of Loch Malcolm. A chapel, +dedicated to St. Giles, overlooked it from the top of a huge rock, +whose foot was laved by the waters of the subterranean sea. + +When this underground town was lighted up by the bright rays +thrown from the discs, hung from the pillars and arches, +its aspect was so strange, so fantastic, that it justified +the praise of the guide-books, and visitors flocked to see it. + +It is needless to say that the inhabitants of Coal Town were +proud of their place. They rarely left their laboring village-- +in that imitating Simon Ford, who never wished to go out again. +The old overman maintained that it always rained "up there," +and, considering the climate of the United Kingdom, +it must be acknowledged that he was not far wrong. +All the families in New Aberfoyle prospered well, having in +three years obtained a certain com-petency which they could +never have hoped to attain on the surface of the county. +Dozens of babies, who were born at the time when the works +were resumed, had never yet breathed the outer air. + +This made Jack Ryan remark, "It's eighteen months since they were weaned, +and they have not yet seen daylight!" + +It may be mentioned here, that one of the first to run at the engineer's +call was Jack Ryan. The merry fellow had + +thought it his duty to return to his old trade. +But though Melrose farm had lost singer and piper it must +not be thought that Jack Ryan sung no more. On the contrary, +the sonorous echoes of New Aberfoyle exerted their strong lungs +to answer him. + +Jack Ryan took up his abode in Simon Ford's new cottage. They offered him +a room, which he accepted without ceremony, in his frank and hearty way. +Old Madge loved him for his fine character and good nature. +She in some degree shared his ideas on the subject of the fantastic +beings who were supposed to haunt the mine, and the two, when alone, +told each other stories wild enough to make one shudder--stories well +worthy of enriching the hyperborean mythology. + +Jack thus became the life of the cottage. He was, besides being +a jovial companion, a good workman. Six months after the works +had begun, he was made head of a gang of hewers. + +"That was a good work done, Mr. Ford," said he, a few days +after his appointment. "You discovered a new field, and though +you narrowly escaped paying for the discovery with your life-- +well, it was not too dearly bought." + +"No, Jack, it was a good bargain we made that time!" +answered the old overman. "But neither Mr. Starr nor I have +forgotten that to you we owe our lives." + +"Not at all," returned Jack. "You owe them to your son Harry, +when he had the good sense to accept my invitation to Irvine." + +"And not to go, isn't that it?" interrupted Harry, grasping his +comrade's hand. "No, Jack, it is to you, scarcely healed of your wounds-- +to you, who did not delay a day, no, nor an hour, that we owe our being +found still alive in the mine!" + +"Rubbish, no!" broke in the obstinate fellow. +"I won't have that said, when it's no such thing. +I hurried to find out what had become of you, Harry, that's all. +But to give everyone his due, I will add that without +that unapproachable goblin--" + +"Ah, there we are!" cried Ford. "A goblin!" + +"A goblin, a brownie, a fairy's child," repeated Jack Ryan, +"a cousin of the Fire-Maidens, an Urisk, whatever you like! +It's not the less certain that without it we should + +never have found our way into the gallery, from which you could +not get out." + +"No doubt, Jack," answered Harry. "It remains to be seen whether +this being was as supernatural as you choose to believe." + +"Supernatural!" exclaimed Ryan. "But it was as supernatural +as a Will-o'-the-Wisp, who may be seen skipping along +with his lantern in his hand; you may try to catch him, +but he escapes like a fairy, and vanishes like a shadow! +Don't be uneasy, Harry, we shall see it again some day or other!" + +"Well, Jack," said Simon Ford, "Will-o'-the-Wisp or not, +we shall try to find it, and you must help us." + +"You'll get into a scrap if you don't take care, Mr. Ford!" +responded Jack Ryan. + +"We'll see about that, Jack!" + +We may easily imagine how soon this domain of New Aberfoyle became +familiar to all the members of the Ford family, but more particularly +to Harry. He learnt to know all its most secret ins and outs. +He could even say what point of the surface corresponded with what point +of the mine. He knew that above this seam lay the Firth of Clyde, +that there extended Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine. Those columns supported +a spur of the Grampian mountains. This vault served as a basement +to Dumbarton. Above this large pond passed the Balloch railway. +Here ended the Scottish coast. There began the sea, the tumult +of which could be distinctly heard during the equinoctial gales. +Harry would have been a first-rate guide to these natural catacombs, +and all that Alpine guides do on their snowy peaks in daylight he could +have done in the dark mine by the wonderful power of instinct. + +He loved New Aberfoyle. Many times, with his lamp stuck +in his hat, did he penetrate its furthest depths. +He explored its ponds in a skillfully-managed canoe. +He even went shooting, for numerous birds had been introduced +into the crypt--pintails, snipes, ducks, who fed on the fish +which swarmed in the deep waters. Harry's eyes seemed made +for the dark, just as a sailor's are made for distances. +But all this while Harry felt irresistibly animated by +the hope of finding the mysterious being whose intervention, +strictly speaking, had saved himself and his friends. Would + +he succeed? He certainly would, if presentiments were to be trusted; +but certainly not, if he judged by the success which had as yet +attended his researches. + +The attacks directed against the family of the old overman, +before the discovery of New Aberfoyle, had not been renewed. + + +CHAPTER XI HANGING BY A THREAD + + +ALTHOUGH in this way the Ford family led a happy and contented life, +yet it was easy to see that Harry, naturally of a grave disposition, +became more and more quiet and reserved. Even Jack Ryan, with all +his good humor and usually infectious merriment, failed to rouse him +to gayety of manner. + +One Sunday--it was in the month of June--the two friends were +walking together on the shores of Loch Malcolm. Coal Town rested +from labor. In the world above, stormy weather prevailed. +Violent rains fell, and dull sultry vapors brooded over the earth; +the atmosphere was most oppressive. + +Down in Coal Town there was perfect calm; no wind, no rain. +A soft and pleasant temperature existed instead of the strife +of the elements which raged without. What wonder then, +that excursionists from Stirling came in considerable numbers +to enjoy the calm fresh air in the recesses of the mine? + +The electric discs shed a brilliancy of light which the British sun, +oftener obscured by fogs than it ought to be, might well envy. +Jack Ryan kept talking of these visitors, who passed them in noisy crowds, +but Harry paid very little attention to what he said. + +"I say, do look, Harry!" cried Jack. "See what numbers of people +come to visit us! Cheer up, old fellow! Do the honors of the place +a little better. If you look so glum, you'll make all these outside +folks think you envy their life above-ground." + +"Never mind me, Jack," answered Harry. "You are jolly enough for two, +I'm sure; that's enough." + +"I'll be hanged if I don't feel your melancholy creeping over me though!" +exclaimed Jack. "I declare my eyes + +are getting quite dull, my lips are drawn together, +my laugh sticks in my throat; I'm forgetting all my songs. +Come, man, what's the matter with you?" + +"You know well enough, Jack." + +"What? the old story?" + +"Yes, the same thoughts haunt me." + +"Ah, poor fellow!" said Jack, shrugging his shoulders. +"If you would only do like me, and set all the queer things +down to the account of the goblins of the mine, you would +be easier in your mind." + +"But, Jack, you know very well that these goblins exist only in +your imagination, and that, since the works here have been reopened, +not a single one has been seen." + +"That's true, Harry; but if no spirits have been seen, neither has +anyone else to whom you could attribute the extraordinary doings we +want to account for." + +"I shall discover them." + +"Ah, Harry! Harry! it's not so easy to catch the spirits +of New Aberfoyle!" + +"I shall find out the spirits as you call them," said Harry, +in a tone of firm conviction. + +"Do you expect to be able to punish them?" + +"Both punish and reward. Remember, if one hand shut us up +in that passage, another hand delivered us! I shall not +soon forget that." + +"But, Harry, how can we be sure that these two hands do not belong +to the same body?" + +"What can put such a notion in your head, Jack?" asked Harry. + +"Well, I don't know. Creatures that live in these holes, Harry, don't you +see? they can't be made like us, eh?" + +"But they ARE just like us, Jack." + +"Oh, no! don't say that, Harry! Perhaps some madman managed to get +in for a time." + +"A madman! No madman would have formed such connected plans, +or done such continued mischief as befell us after the breaking +of the ladders." + +"Well, but anyhow he has done no harm for the last three years, +either to you, Harry, or any of your people." + +"No matter, Jack," replied Harry; "I am persuaded that this malignant +being, whoever he is, has by no means given up his evil intentions. +I can hardly say on what I + +found my convictions. But at any rate, for the sake of the new works, +I must and will know who he is and whence he comes." + +"For the sake of the new works did you say?" asked Jack, +considerably surprised. + +"I said so, Jack," returned Harry. "I may be mistaken, +but, to me, all that has happened proves the existence +of an interest in this mine in strong opposition to ours. +Many a time have I considered the matter; I feel almost sure of it. +Just consider the whole series of inexplicable circumstances, +so singularly linked together. To begin with, the anonymous letter, +contradictory to that of my father, at once proves that some +man had become aware of our projects, and wished to prevent +their accomplishment. Mr. Starr comes to see us at the Dochart pit. +No sooner does he enter it with me than an immense stone is +cast upon us, and communication is interrupted by the breaking +of the ladders in the Yarrow shaft. We commence exploring. +An experiment, by which the existence of a new vein would +be proved, is rendered impossible by stoppage of fissures. +Notwithstanding this, the examination is carried out, +the vein discovered. We return as we came, a prodigious +gust of air meets us, our lamp is broken, utter darkness +surrounds us. Nevertheless, we make our way along the gloomy +passage until, on reaching the entrance, we find it blocked up. +There we were--imprisoned. Now, Jack, don't you see in all +these things a malicious intention? Ah, yes, believe me, +some being hitherto invisible, but not supernatural, as you will +persist in thinking, was concealed in the mine. For some reason, +known only to himself, he strove to keep us out of it. +WAS there, did I say? I feel an inward conviction that he IS +there still, and probably prepares some terrible disaster for us. +Even at the risk of my life, Jack, I am resolved to discover him." + +Harry spoke with an earnestness which strongly impressed his companion. +"Well, Harry," said he, "if I am forced to agree with you in +certain points, won't you admit that some kind fairy or brownie, +by bringing bread and water to you, was the means of--" + +"Jack, my friend," interrupted Harry, "it is my belief that +the friendly person, whom you will persist in calling a spirit, +exists in the mine as certainly as the criminal we + +speak of, and I mean to seek them both in the most distant recesses +of the mine." + +"But," inquired Jack, "have you any possible clew to guide your search?" + +"Perhaps I have. Listen to me! Five miles west of New Aberfoyle, +under the solid rock which supports Ben Lomond, there exists a +natural shaft which descends perpendicularly into the vein beneath. +A week ago I went to ascertain the depth of this shaft. +While sounding it, and bending over the opening as my plumb-line +went down, it seemed to me that the air within was agitated, +as though beaten by huge wings." + +"Some bird must have got lost among the lower galleries," replied Jack. + +"But that is not all, Jack. This very morning I went back +to the place, and, listening attentively, I thought I could +detect a sound like a sort of groaning." + +"Groaning!" cried Jack, "that must be nonsense; it was a current of air-- +unless indeed some ghost--" + +"I shall know to-morrow what it was," said Harry. + +"To-morrow?" answered Jack, looking at his friend. + +"Yes; to-morrow I am going down into that abyss." + +"Harry! that will be a tempting of Providence." + +"No, Jack, Providence will aid me in the attempt. Tomorrow, you +and some of our comrades will go with me to that shaft. +I will fasten myself to a long rope, by which you can let me down, +and draw me up at a given signal. I may depend upon you, Jack?" + +"Well, Harry," said Jack, shaking his head, "I will do as you wish me; +but I tell you all the same, you are very wrong." + +"Nothing venture nothing win," said Harry, in a tone of decision. +"To-morrow morning, then, at six o'clock. Be silent, and farewell!" + +It must be admitted that Jack Ryan's fears were far from groundless. +Harry would expose himself to very great danger, supposing the enemy +he sought for lay concealed at the bottom of the pit into which he was +going to descend. It did not seem likely that such was the case, however. + +"Why in the world," repeated Jack Ryan, "should he take all this +trouble to account for a set of facts so very + +easily and simply explained by the supernatural intervention +of the spirits of the mine?" + +But, notwithstanding his objections to the scheme, Jack Ryan and +three miners of his gang arrived next morning with Harry at the mouth +of the opening of the suspicious shaft. Harry had not mentioned +his intentions either to James Starr or to the old overman. +Jack had been discreet enough to say nothing. + +Harry had provided himself with a rope about 200 feet long. +It was not particularly thick, but very strong--sufficiently so to +sustain his weight. His friends were to let him down into the gulf, +and his pulling the cord was to be the signal to withdraw him. + +The opening into this shaft or well was twelve feet wide. +A beam was thrown across like a bridge, so that the cord +passing over it should hang down the center of the opening, +and save Harry from striking against the sides in his descent. + +He was ready. + +"Are you still determined to explore this abyss?" whispered Jack Ryan. + +"Yes, I am, Jack." + +The cord was fastened round Harry's thighs and under his arms, +to keep him from rocking. Thus supported, he was free to use +both his hands. A safety-lamp hung at his belt, also a large, +strong knife in a leather sheath. + +Harry advanced to the middle of the beam, around which the cord +was passed. Then his friends began to let him down, and he slowly +sank into the pit. As the rope caused him to swing gently round +and round, the light of his lamp fell in turns on all points +of the side walls, so that he was able to examine them carefully. +These walls consisted of pit coal, and so smooth that it would +be impossible to ascend them. + +Harry calculated that he was going down at the rate of about +a foot per second, so that he had time to look about him, +and be ready for any event. + +During two minutes--that is to say, to the depth of about 120 feet, +the descent continued without any incident. + +No lateral gallery opened from the side walls of the pit, +which was gradually narrowing into the shape of a funnel. +But Harry began to feel a fresher air rising from beneath, + +whence he concluded that the bottom of the pit communicated with a gallery +of some description in the lowest part of the mine. + +The cord continued to unwind. Darkness and silence were complete. +If any living being whatever had sought refuge in the deep +and mysterious abyss, he had either left it, or, if there, +by no movement did he in the slightest way betray his presence. + +Harry, becoming more suspicious the lower he got, now drew his +knife and held it in his right hand. At a depth of 180 feet, +his feet touched the lower point and the cord slackened and +unwound no further. + +Harry breathed more freely for a moment. One of the fears he entertained +had been that, during his descent, the cord might be cut above him, +but he had seen no projection from the walls behind which anyone could +have been concealed. + +The bottom of the abyss was quite dry. Harry, taking the lamp +from his belt, walked round the place, and perceived he had been +right in his conjectures. + +An extremely narrow passage led aside out of the pit. +He had to stoop to look into it, and only by creeping could it +be followed; but as he wanted to see in which direction it led, +and whether another abyss opened from it, he lay down on the ground +and began to enter it on hands and knees. + +An obstacle speedily arrested his progress. He fancied he could +perceive by touching it, that a human body lay across the passage. +A sudden thrill of horror and surprise made him hastily draw back, +but he again advanced and felt more carefully. + +His senses had not deceived him; a body did indeed lie there; +and he soon ascertained that, although icy cold at +the extremities, there was some vital heat remaining. +In less time than it takes to tell it, Harry had drawn the body +from the recess to the bottom of the shaft, and, seizing his lamp, +he cast its lights on what he had found, exclaiming immediately, +"Why, it is a child!" + +The child still breathed, but so very feebly that Harry expected +it to cease every instant. Not a moment was to be lost; +he must carry this poor little creature out of the pit, +and take it home to his mother as quickly as he could. He + +eagerly fastened the cord round his waist, stuck on his lamp, +clasped the child to his breast with his left arm, and, keeping his +right hand free to hold the knife, he gave the signal agreed on, +to have the rope pulled up. + +It tightened at once; he began the ascent. Harry looked around him +with redoubled care, for more than his own life was now in danger. + +For a few minutes all went well, no accident seemed to threaten him, +when suddenly he heard the sound of a great rush of air from beneath; +and, looking down, he could dimly perceive through the gloom a broad +mass arising until it passed him, striking him as it went by. + +It was an enormous bird--of what sort he could not see; it flew +upwards on mighty wings, then paused, hovered, and dashed fiercely +down upon Harry, who could only wield his knife in one hand. +He defended himself and the child as well as he could, +but the ferocious bird seemed to aim all its blows at him alone. +Afraid of cutting the cord, he could not strike it as he wished, +and the struggle was prolonged, while Harry shouted with all his +might in hopes of making his comrades hear. + +He soon knew they did, for they pulled the rope up faster; +a distance of about eighty feet remained to be got over. +The bird ceased its direct attack, but increased the horror +and danger of his situation by rushing at the cord, clinging to it +just out of his reach, and endeavoring, by pecking furiously, +to cut it. + +Harry felt overcome with terrible dread. One strand of the rope gave way, +and it made them sink a little. + +A shriek of despair escaped his lips. + +A second strand was divided, and the double burden now hung suspended +by only half the cord. + +Harry dropped his knife, and by a superhuman effort succeeded, +at the moment the rope was giving way, in catching hold of it +with his right hand above the cut made by the beak of the bird. +But, powerfully as he held it in his iron grasp, he could feel +it gradually slipping through his fingers. + +He might have caught it, and held on with both hands by +sacrificing the life of the child he supported in his left arm. +The idea crossed him, but was banished in an instant, +although he believed himself quite unable to hold out until + +drawn to the surface. For a second he closed his eyes, +believing they were about to plunge back into the abyss. + +He looked up once more; the huge bird had disappeared; his hand +was at the very extremity of the broken rope--when, just as +his convulsive grasp was failing, he was seized by the men, +and with the child was placed on the level ground. + +The fearful strain of anxiety removed, a reaction took place, +and Harry fell fainting into the arms of his friends. + + +CHAPTER XII NELL ADOPTED + + +A COUPLE of hours later, Harry still unconscious, and the child +in a very feeble state, were brought to the cottage by Jack Ryan +and his companions. The old overman listened to the account +of their adventures, while Madge attended with the utmost care +to the wants of her son, and of the poor creature whom he had +rescued from the pit. + +Harry imagined her a mere child, but she was a maiden of the age +of fifteen or sixteen years. + +She gazed at them with vague and wondering eyes; and the thin face, +drawn by suffering, the pallid complexion, which light +could never have tinged, and the fragile, slender figure, +gave her an appearance at once singular and attractive. +Jack Ryan declared that she seemed to him to be an uncommonly +interesting kind of ghost. + +It must have been due to the strange and peculiar +circumstances under which her life hitherto had been led, +that she scarcely seemed to belong to the human race. +Her countenance was of a very uncommon cast, and her eyes, +hardly able to bear the lamp-light in the cottage, glanced around +in a confused and puzzled way, as if all were new to them. + +As this singular being reclined on Madge's bed and awoke to consciousness, +as from a long sleep, the old Scotchwoman began to question her a little. + +"What do they call you, my dear?" said she. + +"Nell," replied the girl. + +"Do you feel anything the matter with you, Nell?" + +"I am hungry. I have eaten nothing since--since--" + + +Nell uttered these few words like one unused to speak much. They were +in the Gaelic language, which was often spoken by Simon and his family. +Madge immediately brought her some food; she was evidently famished. +It was impossible to say how long she might have been in that pit. + +"How many days had you been down there, dearie?" inquired Madge. + +Nell made no answer; she seemed not to understand the question. + +"How many days, do you think?" + +"Days?" repeated Nell, as though the word had no meaning for her, +and she shook her head to signify entire want of comprehension. + +Madge took her hand, and stroked it caressingly. "How old are you, +my lassie?" she asked, smiling kindly at her. + +Nell shook her head again. + +"Yes, yes," continued Madge, "how many years old?" + +"Years?" replied Nell. She seemed to understand that word +no better than days! Simon, Harry, Jack, and the rest, +looked on with an air of mingled compassion, wonder, and sympathy. +The state of this poor thing, clothed in a miserable garment +of coarse woolen stuff, seemed to impress them painfully. + +Harry, more than all the rest, seemed attracted by the very peculiarity +of this poor stranger. He drew near, took Nell's hand from his mother, +and looked directly at her, while something like a smile curved her lip. +"Nell," he said, "Nell, away down there--in the mine--were you all alone?" + +"Alone! alone!" cried the girl, raising herself hastily. +Her features expressed terror; her eyes, which had appeared +to soften as Harry looked at her, became quite wild again. +"Alone!" repeated she, "alone!"--and she fell back on the bed, +as though deprived of all strength. + +"The poor bairn is too weak to speak to us," said Madge, +when she had adjusted the pillows. "After a good rest, +and a little more food, she will be stronger. Come away, +Simon and Harry, and all the rest of you, and let her go to sleep." +So Nell was left alone, and in a very few minutes slept profoundly. + +This event caused a great sensation, not only in the coal + +mines, but in Stirlingshire, and ultimately throughout the kingdom. +The strangeness of the story was exaggerated; the affair could not have +made more commotion had they found the girl enclosed in the solid rock, +like one of those antediluvian creatures who have occasionally +been released by a stroke of the pickax from their stony prison. +Nell became a fashionable wonder without knowing it. +Superstitious folks made her story a new subject for legendary marvels, +and were inclined to think, as Jack Ryan told Harry, that Nell +was the spirit of the mines. + +"Be it so, Jack," said the young man; "but at any rate she +is the good spirit. It can have been none but she who +brought us bread and water when we were shut up down there; +and as to the bad spirit, who must still be in the mine, +we'll catch him some day." + +Of course James Starr had been at once informed of all this, and came, +as soon as the young girl had sufficiently recovered her strength, +to see her, and endeavor to question her carefully. + +She appeared ignorant of nearly everything relating to life, and, +although evidently intelligent, was wanting in many elementary ideas, +such as time, for instance. She had never been used to its division, +and the words signifying hours, days, months, and years were +unknown to her. + +Her eyes, accustomed to the night, were pained by the glare of +the electric discs; but in the dark her sight was wonderfully keen, +the pupil dilated in a remarkable manner, and she could +see where to others there appeared profound obscurity. +It was certain that her brain had never received any impression +of the outer world, that her eyes had never looked beyond the mine, +and that these somber depths had been all the world to her. + +The poor girl probably knew not that there were a sun and stars, +towns and counties, a mighty universe composed of myriads of worlds. +But until she comprehended the significance of words at present +conveying no precise meaning to her, it was impossible to ascertain +what she knew. + +As to whether or not Nell had lived alone in the recesses +of New Aberfoyle, James Starr was obliged to remain uncertain; +indeed, any allusion to the subject excited evident alarm in +the mind of this strange girl. Either Nell could not or would +not reply to questions, but that some secret + +existed in connection with the place, which she could +have explained, was manifest. + +"Should you like to stay with us? Should you like to go back +to where we found you?" asked James Starr. + +"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the maiden, in answer to his first question; +but a cry of terror was all she seemed able to say to the second. + +James Starr, as well as Simon and Harry Ford, could not help feeling +a certain amount of uneasiness with regard to this persistent silence. +They found it impossible to forget all that had appeared so inexplicable +at the time they made the discovery of the coal mine; and although +that was three years ago, and nothing new had happened, they always +expected some fresh attack on the part of the invisible enemy. + +They resolved to explore the mysterious well, and did so, well armed +and in considerable numbers. But nothing suspicious was to be seen; +the shaft communicated with lower stages of the crypt, hollowed out +in the carboniferous bed. + +Many a time did James Starr, Simon, and Harry talk over these things. +If one or more malevolent beings were concealed in the coal-pit, +and there concocted mischief, Nell surely could have warned +them of it, yet she said nothing. The slightest allusion +to her past life brought on such fits of violent emotion, +that it was judged best to avoid the subject for the present. +Her secret would certainly escape her by-and-by. + +By the time Nell had been a fortnight in the cottage, she had become +a most intelligent and zealous assistant to old Madge. It was clear +that she instinctively felt she should remain in the dwelling where she +had been so charitably received, and perhaps never dreamt of quitting it. +This family was all in all to her, and to the good folks themselves +Nell had seemed an adopted child from the moment when she first came +beneath their roof. Nell was in truth a charming creature; her new mode +of existence added to her beauty, for these were no doubt the first +happy days of her life, and her heart was full of gratitude towards +those to whom she owed them. Madge felt towards her as a mother would; +the old woman doted upon her; in short, she was beloved by everybody. +Jack Ryan only regretted one thing, which was that he had not saved +her himself. Friend + +Jack often came to the cottage. He sang, and Nell, who had never +heard singing before, admired it greatly; but anyone might see +that she preferred to Jack's songs the graver conversation of Harry, +from whom by degrees she learnt truths concerning the outer world, +of which hitherto she had known nothing. + +It must be said that, since Nell had appeared in her own person, +Jack Ryan had been obliged to admit that his belief in hobgoblins +was in a measure weakened. A couple of months later his credulity +experienced a further shock. About that time Harry unexpectedly made +a discovery which, in part at least, accounted for the apparition +of the fire-maidens among the ruins of Dundonald Castle at Irvine. + +During several days he had been engaged in exploring the remote galleries +of the prodigious excavation towards the south. At last he scrambled with +difficulty up a narrow passage which branched off through the upper rock. +To his great astonishment, he suddenly found himself in the open air. +The passage, after ascending obliquely to the surface of the ground, +led out directly among the ruins of Dundonald Castle. + +There was, therefore, a communication between New Aberfoyle and the hills +crowned by this ancient castle. The upper entrance to this gallery, +being completely concealed by stones and brushwood, was invisible +from without; at the time of their search, therefore, the magistrates +had been able to discover nothing. + +A few days afterwards, James Starr, guided by Harry, came himself to +inspect this curious natural opening into the coal mine. "Well," said he, +"here is enough to convince the most superstitious among us. +Farewell to all their brownies, goblins, and fire-maidens now!" + +"I hardly think, Mr. Starr, we ought to congratulate ourselves," +replied Harry. "Whatever it is we have instead of these things, +it can't be better, and may be worse than they are." + +"That's true, Harry," said the engineer; "but what's to be done? +It is plain that, whatever the beings are who hide in the mine, +they reach the surface of the earth by this passage. +No doubt it was the light of torches waved by them during +that dark and stormy night which attracted the MOTALA towards +the rocky coast, and like the wreckers + +of former days, they would have plundered the unfortunate vessel, had it +not been for Jack Ryan and his friends. Anyhow, so far it is evident, +and here is the mouth of the den. As to its occupants, the question is-- +Are they here still?" + +"I say yes; because Nell trembles when we mention them-- +yes, because Nell will not, or dare not, speak about them," +answered Harry in a tone of decision. + +Harry was surely in the right. Had these mysterious denizens +of the pit abandoned it, or ceased to visit the spot, what reason +could the girl have had for keeping silence? + +James Starr could not rest till he had penetrated this mystery. +He foresaw that the whole future of the new excavations must depend +upon it. Renewed and strict precautions were therefore taken. +The authorities were informed of the discovery of the entrance. +Watchers were placed among the ruins of the castle. +Harry himself lay hid for several nights in the thickets +of brushwood which clothed the hill-side. + +Nothing was discovered--no human being emerged from the opening. +So most people came to the conclusion that the villains had +been finally dislodged from the mine, and that, as to Nell, +they must suppose her to be dead at the bottom of the shaft +where they had left her. + +While it remained unworked, the mine had been a safe enough +place of refuge, secure from all search or pursuit. But now, +circumstances being altered, it became difficult to conceal this +lurking-place, and it might reasonably be hoped they were gone, +and that nothing for the future was to be dreaded from them. + +James Starr, however, could not feel sure about it; +neither could Harry be satisfied on the subject, often repeating, +"Nell has clearly been mixed up with all this secret business. +If she had nothing more to fear, why should she keep silence? +It cannot be doubted that she is happy with us. She likes us all-- +she adores my mother. Her absolute silence as to her former life, +when by speaking out she might benefit us, proves to me that some +awful secret, which she dares not reveal, weighs on her mind. +It may also be that she believes it better for us, as well as for herself, +that she should remain mute in a way otherwise so unaccountable." + + +In consequence of these opinions, it was agreed by common consent +to avoid all allusion to the maiden's former mode of life. +One day, however, Harry was led to make known to Nell what +James Starr, his father, mother, and himself believed they owed +to her interference. + +It was a fete-day. The miners made holiday on the surface of +the county of Stirling as well as in its subterraneous domains. +Parties of holiday-makers were moving about in all directions. +Songs resounded in many places beneath the sonorous vaults +of New Aberfoyle. Harry and Nell left the cottage, and slowly +walked along the left bank of Loch Malcolm. + +Then the electric brilliance darted less vividly, and the rays were +interrupted with fantastic effect by the sharp angles of the picturesque +rocks which supported the dome. This imperfect light suited Nell, +to whose eyes a glare was very unpleasant. + +"Nell," said Harry, "your eyes are not fit for daylight yet, +and could not bear the brightness of the sun." + +"Indeed they could not," replied the girl; "if the sun is such as you +describe it to me, Harry." + +"I cannot by any words, Nell, give you an idea either of his splendor +or of the beauty of that universe which your eyes have never beheld. +But tell me, is it really possible that, since the day when you +were born in the depths of the coal mine, you never once have been +up to the surface of the earth?" + +"Never once, Harry," said she; "I do not believe that, +even as an infant, my father or mother ever carried me thither. +I am sure I should have retained some impression of the open +air if they had." + +"I believe you would," answered Harry. "Long ago, Nell, many children +used to live altogether in the mine; communication was then difficult, +and I have met with more than one young person, quite as ignorant as you +are of things above-ground. But now the railway through our great +tunnel takes us in a few minutes to the upper regions of our country. +I long, Nell, to hear you say, 'Come, Harry, my eyes can bear daylight, +and I want to see the sun! I want to look upon the works +of the Almighty.'" + +"I shall soon say so, Harry, I hope," replied the girl; +"I shall soon go with you to the world above; and yet--" + + +"What are you going to say, Nell?" hastily cried Harry; "can you +possibly regret having quitted that gloomy abyss in which you +spent your early years, and whence we drew you half dead?" + +"No, Harry," answered Nell; "I was only thinking that darkness is +beautiful as well as light. If you but knew what eyes accustomed +to its depth can see! Shades flit by, which one longs to follow; +circles mingle and intertwine, and one could gaze on them forever; +black hollows, full of indefinite gleams of radiance, lie deep +at the bottom of the mine. And then the voice-like sounds! +Ah, Harry! one must have lived down there to understand what I feel, +what I can never express." + +"And were you not afraid, Nell, all alone there?" + +"It was just when I was alone that I was not afraid." + +Nell's voice altered slightly as she said these words; however, Harry +thought he might press the subject a little further, so he said, +"But one might be easily lost in these great galleries, Nell. Were you +not afraid of losing your way?" + +"Oh, no, Harry; for a long time I had known every turn of the new mine." + +"Did you never leave it?" + +"Yes, now and then," answered the girl with a little hesitation; +"sometimes I have been as far as the old mine of Aberfoyle." + +"So you knew our old cottage?" + +"The cottage! oh, yes; but the people who lived there I only saw +at a great distance." + +"They were my father and mother," said Harry; "and I was there too; +we have always lived there--we never would give up the old dwelling." + +"Perhaps it would have been better for you if you had," +murmured the maiden. + +"Why so, Nell? Was it not just because we were obstinately resolved +to remain that we ended by discovering the new vein of coal? +And did not that discovery lead to the happy result of providing +work for a large population, and restoring them to ease and comfort? +and did it not enable us to find you, Nell, to save your life, +and give you the love of all our hearts?" + +"Ah, yes, for me indeed it is well, whatever may happen," +replied Nell earnestly; "for others--who can tell?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Oh, nothing--nothing. But it used to be very dangerous at that time +to go into the new cutting--yes, very dangerous indeed, Harry! Once some +rash people made their way into these chasms. They got a long, long way; +they were lost!" + +"They were lost?" said Harry, looking at her. + +"Yes, lost!" repeated Nell in a trembling voice. +"They could not find their way out." + +"And there," cried Harry, "they were imprisoned during eight long days! +They were at the point of death, Nell; and, but for a kind +and charitable being--an angel perhaps--sent by God to help them, +who secretly brought them a little food; but for a mysterious guide, +who afterwards led to them their deliverers, they never would +have escaped from that living tomb!" + +"And how do you know about that?" demanded the girl. + +"Because those men were James Starr, my father, and myself, Nell!" + +Nell looked up hastily, seized the young man's hand, and gazed so +fixedly into his eyes that his feelings were stirred to their depths. +"You were there?" at last she uttered. + +"I was indeed," said Harry, after a pause, "and she to whom we +owe our lives can have been none other than yourself, Nell!" + +Nell hid her face in her hands without speaking. +Harry had never seen her so much affected. + +"Those who saved your life, Nell," added he in a voice tremulous +with emotion, "already owed theirs to you; do you think they +will ever forget it?" + + +CHAPTER XIII ON THE REVOLVING LADDER + + +THE mining operations at New Aberfoyle continued to be carried on +very successfully. As a matter of course, the engineer, James Starr, +as well as Simon Ford, the discoverers of this rich carboniferous region, +shared largely in the profits. + +In time Harry became a partner. But he never thought + +of quitting the cottage. He took his father's place as overman, +and diligently superintended the works of this colony of miners. +Jack Ryan was proud and delighted at the good fortune which had +befallen his comrade. He himself was getting on very well also. + +They frequently met, either at the cottage or at the works in the pit. +Jack did not fail to remark the sentiments entertained by Harry +towards Nell. Harry would not confess to them; but Jack only +laughed at him when he shook his head and tried to deny any special +interest in her. + +It must be noted that Jack Ryan had the greatest possible wish to be +of the party when Nell should pay her first visit to the upper surface +of the county of Stirling. He wished to see her wonder and admiration +on first beholding the yet unknown face of Nature. He very much hoped +that Harry would take him with them when the excursion was made. +As yet, however, the latter had made no proposal of the kind to him, +which caused him to feel a little uneasy as to his intentions. + +One morning Jack Ryan was descending through a shaft which led from +the surface to the lower regions of the pit. He did so by means +of one of those ladders which, continually revolving by machinery, +enabled persons to ascend and descend without fatigue. +This apparatus had lowered him about a hundred and fifty feet, +when at a narrow landing-place he perceived Harry, who was coming +up to his labors for the day. + +"Well met, my friend!" cried Jack, recognizing his comrade by the light +of the electric lamps. + +"Ah, Jack!" replied Harry, "I am glad to see you. +I've got something to propose." + +"I can listen to nothing till you tell me how Nell is," +interrupted Jack Ryan. + +"Nell is all right, Jack--so much so, in fact, that I hope in a month +or six weeks--" + +"To marry her, Harry?" + +"Jack, you don't know what you are talking about!" + +"Ah, that's very likely; but I know quite well what I shall do." + +"What will you do?" + +"Marry her myself, if you don't; so look sharp," +laughed Jack. "By Saint Mungo! I think an immense deal of + +bonny Nell! A fine young creature like that, who has been +brought up in the mine, is just the very wife for a miner. +She is an orphan--so am I; and if you don't care much for her, +and if she will have me--" + +Harry looked gravely at Jack, and let him talk on without trying +to stop him. "Don't you begin to feel jealous, Harry?" asked Jack +in a more serious tone. + +"Not at all," answered Harry quietly. + +"But if you don't marry Nell yourself, you surely can't expect +her to remain a spinster?" + +"I expect nothing," said Harry. + +A movement of the ladder machinery now gave the two friends +the opportunity--one to go up, the other down the shaft. +However, they remained where they were. + +"Harry," quoth Jack, "do you think I spoke in earnest just +now about Nell?" + +"No, that I don't, Jack." + +"Well, but now I will!" + +"You? speak in earnest?" + +"My good fellow, I can tell you I am quite capable of giving a friend +a bit of advice." + +"Let's hear, then, Jack!" + +"Well, look here! You love Nell as heartily as she deserves. +Old Simon, your father, and old Madge, your mother, both love her +as if she were their daughter. Why don't you make her so in reality? +Why don't you marry her?" + +"Come, Jack," said Harry, "you are running on as if you knew how Nell +felt on the subject." + +"Everybody knows that," replied Jack, "and therefore it is +impossible to make you jealous of any of us. But here goes +the ladder again--I'm off!" + +"Stop a minute, Jack!" cried Harry, detaining his companion, +who was stepping onto the moving staircase. + +"I say! you seem to mean me to take up my quarters here altogether!" + +"Do be serious and listen, Jack! I want to speak in earnest myself now." + +"Well, I'll listen till the ladder moves again, not a minute longer." + +"Jack," resumed Harry, "I need not pretend that I do not love Nell; I wish +above all things to make her my wife." + + +"That's all right!" + +"But for the present I have scruples of conscience as to asking +her to make me a promise which would be irrevocable." + +"What can you mean, Harry?" + +"I mean just this--that, it being certain Nell has never +been outside this coal mine in the very depths of which she +was born, it stands to reason that she knows nothing, +and can comprehend nothing of what exists beyond it. +Her eyes--yes, and perhaps also her heart--have everything +yet to learn. Who can tell what her thoughts will be, +when perfectly new impressions shall be made upon her mind? +As yet she knows nothing of the world, and to me it would +seem like deceiving her, if I led her to decide in ignorance, +upon choosing to remain all her life in the coal mine. +Do you understand me, Jack?" + +"Hem!--yes--pretty well. What I understand best is that you +are going to make me miss another turn of the ladder." + +"Jack," replied Harry gravely, "if this machinery were to stop altogether, +if this landing-place were to fall beneath our feet, you must and shall +hear what I have to say." + +"Well done, Harry! that's how I like to be spoken to! +Let's settle, then, that, before you marry Nell, she shall go +to school in Auld Reekie." + +"No indeed, Jack; I am perfectly able myself to educate the person +who is to be my wife." + +"Sure that will be a great deal better, Harry!" + +"But, first of all," resumed Harry, "I wish that Nell should +gain a real knowledge of the upper world. To illustrate +my meaning, Jack, suppose you were in love with a blind girl, +and someone said to you, 'In a month's time her sight will +be restored,' would you not wait till after she was cured, +to marry her?" + +"Faith, to be sure I would!" exclaimed Jack. + +"Well, Jack, Nell is at present blind; and before she marries me, +I wish her to see what I am, and what the life really is to which +she would bind herself. In short, she must have daylight let +in upon the subject!" + +"Well said, Harry! Very well said indeed!" cried Jack. "Now I +see what you are driving at. And when may we expect the operation +to come off?" + + +"In a month, Jack," replied Harry. "Nell is getting used +to the light of our reflectors. That is some preparation. +In a month she will, I hope, have seen the earth and its wonders-- +the sky and its splendors. She will perceive that the limits +of the universe are boundless." + +But while Harry was thus giving the rein to his imagination, Jack Ryan, +quitting the platform, had leaped on the step of the moving machinery. + +"Hullo, Jack! Where are you?" + +"Far beneath you," laughed the merry fellow. "While you soar +to the heights, I plunge into the depths." + +"Fare ye well. Jack!" returned Harry, himself laying hold +of the rising ladder; "mind you say nothing about what I have +been telling you." + +"Not a word," shouted Jack, "but I make one condition." + +"What is that?" + +"That I may be one of the party when Nell's first excursion +to the face of the earth comes off!" + +"So you shall, Jack, I promise you!" + +A fresh throb of the machinery placed a yet more considerable distance +between the friends. Their voices sounded faintly to each other. +Harry, however, could still hear Jack shouting: + +"I say! do you know what Nell will like better than either sun, +moon, or stars, after she's seen the whole of them?" + +"No, Jack!" + +"Why, you yourself, old fellow! still you! always you!" +And Jack's voice died away in a prolonged "Hurrah!" + +Harry, after this, applied himself diligently, during all +his spare time, to the work of Nell's education. +He taught her to read and to write, and such rapid progress did +she make, it might have been said that she learnt by instinct. +Never did keen intelligence more quickly triumph over utter ignorance. +It was the wonder of all beholders. + +Simon and Madge became every day more and more attached to +their adopted child, whose former history continued to puzzle +them a good deal. They plainly saw the nature of Harry's +feelings towards her, and were far from displeased thereat. +They recollected that Simon had said to the engineer on his first +visit to the old cottage, "How can our son ever think of marrying? +Where could a wife + +possibly be found suitable for a lad whose whole life must be passed +in the depths of a coal mine?" + +Well! now it seemed as if the most desirable companion in the world +had been led to him by Providence. Was not this like a blessing direct +from Heaven? So the old man made up his mind that, if the wedding did +take place, the miners of New Aberfoyle should have a merry-making +at Coal Town, which they would never during their lives forget. +Simon Ford little knew what he was saying! + +It must be remarked that another person wished for this union of Harry +and Nell as much as Simon did--and that was James Starr, the engineer. +Of course he was really interested in the happiness of the two +young people. But another motive, connected with wider interests, +influenced him to desire it. + +It has been said that James Starr continued to entertain a certain amount +of apprehension, although for the present nothing appeared to justify it. +Yet that which had been might again be. This mystery about the +new cutting--Nell was evidently the only person acquainted with it. +Now, if fresh dangers were in store for the miners of Aberfoyle, +how were they possibly to be guarded against, without so much as knowing +the cause of them? + +"Nell has persisted in keeping silence," said James Starr very often, +"but what she has concealed from others, she will not long hide from +her husband. Any danger would be danger to Harry as well as to the rest +of us. Therefore, a marriage which brings happiness to the lovers, +and safety to their friends, will be a good marriage, if ever there +is such a thing here below." + +Thus, not illogically, reasoned James Starr. He communicated +his ideas to old Simon, who decidedly appreciated them. +Nothing, then, appeared to stand in the way of the match. +What, in fact, was there to prevent it? They loved each other; +the parents desired nothing better for their son. +Harry's comrades envied his good fortune, but freely acknowledged +that he deserved it. The maiden depended on no one else, +and had but to give the consent of her own heart. + +Why, then, if there were none to place obstacles in the way +of this union--why, as night came on, and, the labors of the day +being over, the electric lights in the mine were + +extinguished, and all the inhabitants of Coal Town at rest +within their dwellings--why did a mysterious form always emerge +from the gloomier recesses of New Aberfoyle, and silently glide +through the darkness? + +What instinct guided this phantom with ease through passages +so narrow as to appear to be impracticable? + +Why should the strange being, with eyes flashing through +the deepest darkness, come cautiously creeping along the shores +of Lake Malcolm? Why so directly make his way towards +Simon's cottage, yet so carefully as hitherto to avoid notice? +Why, bending towards the windows, did he strive to catch, +by listening, some fragment of the conversation within +the closed shutters? + +And, on catching a few words, why did he shake his fist with a menacing +gesture towards the calm abode, while from between his set teeth issued +these words in muttered fury, "She and he? Never! never!" + + +CHAPTER XIV A SUNRISE + + +A MONTH after this, on the evening of the 20th of August, Simon Ford +and Madge took leave, with all manner of good wishes, of four tourists, +who were setting forth from the cottage. + +James Starr, Harry, and Jack Ryan were about to lead Nell's +steps over yet untrodden paths, and to show her the glories +of nature by a light to which she was as yet a stranger. +The excursion was to last for two days. James Starr, as well as Harry, +considered that during these eight and forty hours spent above ground, +the maiden would be able to see everything of which she must +have remained ignorant in the gloomy pit; all the varied aspects +of the globe, towns, plains, mountains, rivers, lakes, gulfs, +and seas would pass, panorama-like, before her eyes. + +In that part of Scotland lying between Edinburgh and Glasgow, +nature would seem to have collected and set forth specimens +of every one of these terrestrial beauties. As to the heavens, +they would be spread abroad as over the whole earth, with their +changeful clouds, serene or veiled moon, their radiant sun, +and clustering stars. The expedition had been planned so as to +combine a view of all these things. + +Simon and Madge would have been glad to go with Nell; +but they never left their cottage willingly, and could not make +up their minds to quit their subterranean home for a single day. + +James Starr went as an observer and philosopher, curious to note, +from a psychological point of view, the novel impressions made upon Nell; +perhaps also with some hope of detecting a clue to the mysterious +events connected with her childhood. Harry, with a little trepidation, +asked himself whether it was not possible that this rapid initiation +into the things of the exterior world would change the maiden he had +known and loved hitherto into quite a different girl. As for Jack Ryan, +he was as joyous as a lark rising in the first beams of the sun. +He only trusted that his gayety would prove contagious, and enliven his +traveling companions, thus rewarding them for letting him join them. +Nell was pensive and silent. + +James Starr had decided, very sensibly, to set off in the evening. +It would be very much better for the girl to pass gradually from +the darkness of night to the full light of day; and that would +in this way be managed, since between midnight and noon she +would experience the successive phases of shade and sunshine, +to which her sight had to get accustomed. + +Just as they left the cottage, Nell took Harry's hand saying, +"Harry, is it really necessary for me to leave the mine at all, +even for these few days?" + +"Yes, it is, Nell," replied the young man. "It is needful +for both of us." + +"But, Harry," resumed Nell, "ever since you found me, I have been +as happy as I can possibly be. You have been teaching me. +Why is that not enough? What am I going up there for?" + +Harry looked at her in silence. Nell was giving utterance to nearly +his own thoughts. + +"My child," said James Starr, "I can well understand the +hesitation you feel; but it will be good for you to go with us. +Those who love you are taking you, and they will bring you back again. +Afterwards you will be free, if you wish it, to continue your life +in the coal mine, like old + +Simon, and Madge, and Harry. But at least you ought to be able to compare +what you give up with what you choose, then decide freely. Come!" + +"Come, dear Nell!" cried Harry. + +"Harry, I am willing to follow you," replied the maiden. +At nine o'clock the last train through the tunnel started +to convey Nell and her companions to the surface of the earth. +Twenty minutes later they alighted on the platform where the branch +line to New Aberfoyle joins the railway from Dumbarton to Stirling. + +The night was already dark. From the horizon to the zenith, +light vapory clouds hurried through the upper air, driven by +a refreshing northwesterly breeze. The day had been lovely; +the night promised to be so likewise. + +On reaching Stirling, Nell and her friends, quitting the train, +left the station immediately. Just before them, between high trees, +they could see a road which led to the banks of the river Forth. + +The first physical impression on the girl was the purity of the air +inhaled eagerly by her lungs. + +"Breathe it freely, Nell," said James Starr; "it is fragrant +with all the scents of the open country." + +"What is all that smoke passing over our heads?" inquired Nell. + +"Those are clouds," answered Harry, "blown along by the westerly wind." + +"Ah!" said Nell, "how I should like to feel myself carried +along in that silent whirl! And what are those shining sparks +which glance here and there between rents in the clouds?" + +"Those are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they are, +so many centers of worlds like our own, most likely." + +The constellations became more clearly visible as the wind +cleared the clouds from the deep blue of the firmament. +Nell gazed upon the myriad stars which sparkled overhead. +"But how is it," she said at length, "that if these are suns, +my eyes can endure their brightness?" + +"My child," replied James Starr, "they are indeed suns, but suns +at an enormous distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, +whose rays can reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you +observe near the zenith, and that is + +fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. +Its brightness, therefore, cannot affect your vision. +But our own sun, which will rise to-morrow, is only distant +thirty-eight millions of leagues, and no human eye can gaze fixedly +upon that, for it is brighter than the blaze of any furnace. +But come, Nell, come!" + +They pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking +by her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, +impatient of the slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. +Nell kept looking at the great trees, whose branches, waving in +the wind, made them seem to her like giants gesticulating wildly. +The sound of the breeze in the tree-tops, the deep silence during +a lull, the distant line of the horizon, which could be discerned +when the road passed over open levels--all these things filled +her with new sensations, and left lasting impressions on her mind. + +After some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions +respected her silence, not wishing to influence by any words +of theirs the girl's highly sensitive imagination, but preferring +to allow ideas to arise spontaneously in her soul. + +At about half past eleven o'clock, they gained the banks of the +river Forth. There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. +In a few hours it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked +at the clear water which flowed up to her feet, as the waves +broke gently on the beach, reflecting the starlight. +"Is this a lake?" said she. + +"No," replied Harry, "it is a great river flowing towards +the sea, and soon opening so widely as to resemble a gulf. +Taste a little of the water in the hollow of your hand, Nell, +and you will perceive that it is not sweet like the waters +of Lake Malcolm." + +The maiden bent towards the stream, and, raising a little water +to her lips, "This is quite salt," said she. + +"Yes, the tide is full; the sea water flows up the river as far +as this," answered Harry. + +"Oh, Harry! Harry!" exclaimed the maiden, "what can that red +glow on the horizon be? Is it a forest on fire?" + +"No, it is the rising moon, Nell." + +"To be sure, that's the moon," cried Jack Ryan, "a fine + +big silver plate, which the spirits of air hand round and round +the sky to collect the stars in, like money." + +"Why, Jack," said the engineer, laughing, "I had no idea you +could strike out such bold comparisons!" + +"Well, but, Mr. Starr, it is a just comparison. Don't you see +the stars disappear as the moon passes on? so I suppose they +drop into it." + +"What you mean to say, Jack, is that the superior brilliancy +of the moon eclipses that of stars of the sixth magnitude, +therefore they vanish as she approaches." + +"How beautiful all this is!" repeated Nell again and again, +with her whole soul in her eyes. "But I thought the moon was round?" + +"So she is, when 'full,'" said James Starr; "that means when she is just +opposite to the sun. But to-night the moon is in the last quarter, +shorn of her just proportions, and friend Jack's grand silver plate +looks more like a barber's basin." + +"Oh, Mr. Starr, what a base comparison!" he exclaimed, "I was just going +to begin a sonnet to the moon, but your barber's basin has destroyed +all chance of an inspiration." + +Gradually the moon ascended the heavens. Before her light +the lingering clouds fled away, while stars still sparkled +in the west, beyond the influence of her radiance. +Nell gazed in silence on the glorious spectacle. +The soft silvery light was pleasant to her eyes, and her little +trembling hand expressed to Harry, who clasped it, how deeply +she was affected by the scene. + +"Let us embark now," said James Starr. "We have to get to the top +of Arthur's Seat before sunrise." + +The boat was moored to a post on the bank. A boatman awaited them. +Nell and her friends took their seats; the sail was spread; +it quickly filled before the northwesterly breeze, and they sped +on their way. + +What a new sensation was this for the maiden! She had been rowed on +the waters of Lake Malcolm; but the oar, handled ever so lightly by Harry, +always betrayed effort on the part of the oarsman. Now, for the +first time, Nell felt herself borne along with a gliding movement, +like that of a balloon through the air. The water was smooth as a lake, +and Nell reclined in the stern of the boat, enjoying its gentle rocking. +Occasionally the effect of the + +moonlight on the waters was as though the boat sailed across +a glittering silver field. Little wavelets rippled along the banks. +It was enchanting. + +At length Nell was overcome with drowsiness, her eyelids drooped, +her head sank on Harry's shoulder--she slept. Harry, sorry that +she should miss any of the beauties of this magnificent night, +would have aroused her. + +"Let her sleep!" said the engineer. "She will better enjoy +the novelties of the day after a couple of hours' rest." + +At two o'clock in the morning the boat reached Granton pier. +Nell awoke. "Have I been asleep?" inquired she. + +"No, my child," said James Starr. "You have been dreaming +that you slept, that's all." + +The night continued clear. The moon, riding in mid-heaven, +diffused her rays on all sides. In the little port of Granton +lay two or three fishing boats; they rocked gently on the waters +of the Firth. The wind fell as the dawn approached. +The atmosphere, clear of mists, promised one of those fine +autumn days so delicious on the sea coast. + +A soft, transparent film of vapor lay along the horizon; +the first sunbeam would dissipate it; to the maiden it exhibited +that aspect of the sea which seems to blend it with the sky. +Her view was now enlarged, without producing the impression +of the boundless infinity of ocean. + +Harry taking Nell's hand, they followed James Starr and Jack Ryan +as they traversed the deserted streets. To Nell, this suburb +of the capital appeared only a collection of gloomy dark houses, +just like Coal Town, only that the roof was higher, and gleamed +with small lights. + +She stepped lightly forward, and easily kept pace with Harry. "Are you +not tired, Nell?" asked he, after half an hour's walking. + +"No! my feet seem scarcely to touch the earth," returned she. +"This sky above us seems so high up, I feel as if I could take +wing and fly!" + +"I say! keep hold of her!" cried Jack Ryan. "Our little Nell is too +good to lose. I feel just as you describe though, myself, when I +have not left the pit for a long time." + +"It is when we no longer experience the oppressive effect of the vaulted +rocky roof above Coal Town," said + +James Starr, "that the spacious firmament appears to us like a +profound abyss into which we have, as it were, a desire to plunge. +Is that what you feel, Nell?" + +"Yes, Mr. Starr, it is exactly like that," said Nell. "It makes +me feel giddy." + +"Ah! you will soon get over that, Nell," said Harry. "You will get used +to the outer world, and most likely forget all about our dark coal pit." + +"No, Harry, never!" said Nell, and she put her hand over her eyes, +as though she would recall the remembrance of everything she +had lately quitted. + +Between the silent dwellings of the city, the party passed +along Leith Walk, and went round the Calton Hill, where stood, +in the light of the gray dawn, the buildings of the Observatory +and Nelson's Monument. By Regent's Bridge and the North Bridge they +at last reached the lower extremity of the Canongate. The town +still lay wrapt in slumber. + +Nell pointed to a large building in the center of an open space, +asking, "What great confused mass is that?" + +"That confused mass, Nell, is the palace of the ancient kings +of Scotland; that is Holyrood, where many a sad scene has been enacted! +The historian can here invoke many a royal shade; from those of +the early Scottish kings to that of the unhappy Mary Stuart, +and the French king, Charles X. When day breaks, however, Nell, +this palace will not look so very gloomy. Holyrood, with its four +embattled towers, is not unlike some handsome country house. +But let us pursue our way. There, just above the ancient Abbey +of Holyrood, are the superb cliffs called Salisbury Crags. +Arthur's Seat rises above them, and that is where we are going. +From the summit of Arthur's Seat, Nell, your eyes shall behold +the sun appear above the horizon seaward." + +They entered the King's Park, then, gradually ascending they passed +across the Queen's Drive, a splendid carriageway encircling the hill, +which we owe to a few lines in one of Sir Walter Scott's romances. + +Arthur's Seat is in truth only a hill, seven hundred and fifty +feet high, which stands alone amid surrounding heights. +In less than half an hour, by an easy winding path, James Starr +and his party reached the crest of the + +crouching lion, which, seen from the west, Arthur's Seat so +much resembles. There, all four seated themselves; and James Starr, +ever ready with quotations from the great Scottish novelist, +simply said, "Listen to what is written by Sir Walter Scott +in the eighth chapter of the Heart of Mid-Lothian. 'If I were +to choose a spot from which the rising or setting sun could be seen +to the greatest possible advantage, it would be from this neighborhood.' +Now watch, Nell! the sun will soon appear, and for the first time +you will contemplate its splendor." + +The maiden turned her eyes eastward. Harry, keeping close +beside her, observed her with anxious interest. +Would the first beams of day overpower her feelings? +All remained quiet, even Jack Ryan. A faint streak of pale rose +tinted the light vapors of the horizon. It was the first ray +of light attacking the laggards of the night. Beneath the hill +lay the silent city, massed confusedly in the twilight of dawn. +Here and there lights twinkled among the houses of the old town. +Westward rose many hill-tops, soon to be illuminated by +tips of fire. + +Now the distant horizon of the sea became more plainly visible. +The scale of colors fell into the order of the solar. +Every instant they increased in intensity, rose color became red, +red became fiery, daylight dawned. Nell now glanced towards +the city, of which the outlines became more distinct. +Lofty monuments, slender steeples emerged from the gloom; +a kind of ashy light was spread abroad. At length one solitary +ray struck on the maiden's sight. It was that ray of green which, +morning or evening, is reflected upwards from the sea when +the horizon is clear. + +An instant afterwards, Nell turned, and pointing towards a bright +prominent point in the New Town, "Fire!" cried she. + +"No, Nell, that is no fire," said Harry. "The sun has touched with gold +the top of Sir Walter Scott's monument"--and, indeed, the extreme point +of the monument blazed like the light of a pharos. + +It was day--the sun arose--his disc seemed to glitter +as though he indeed emerged from the waters of the sea. +Appearing at first very large from the effects of refraction, +he contracted as he rose and assumed the perfectly circular form. +Soon no eye could endure the dazzling splendor; + +it was as though the mouth of a furnace was opened through the sky. + +Nell closed her eyes, but her eyelids could not exclude +the glare, and she pressed her fingers over them. +Harry advised her to turn in the opposite direction. +"Oh, no," said she, "my eyes must get used to look at what yours +can bear to see!" + +Even through her hands Nell perceived a rosy light, +which became more white as the sun rose above the horizon. +As her sight became accustomed to it, her eyelids were raised, +and at length her eyes drank in the light of day. + +The good child knelt down, exclaiming, "Oh Lord God! how +beautiful is Thy creation!" Then she rose and looked around. +At her feet extended the panorama of Edinburgh--the clear, +distinct lines of streets in the New Town, and the irregular +mass of houses, with their confused network of streets +and lanes, which constitutes Auld Reekie, properly so called. +Two heights commanded the entire city; Edinburgh Castle, +crowning its huge basaltic rock, and the Calton Hill, +bearing on its rounded summit, among other monuments, ruins built +to represent those of the Parthenon at Athens. + +Fine roadways led in all directions from the capital. +To the north, the coast of the noble Firth of Forth was indented +by a deep bay, in which could be seen the seaport town of Leith, +between which and this Modern Athens of the north ran a street, +straight as that leading to the Piraeus. + +Beyond the wide Firth could be seen the soft outlines of the county +of Fife, while beneath the spectator stretched the yellow sands +of Portobello and Newhaven. + +Nell could not speak. Her lips murmured a word or two indistinctly; +she trembled, became giddy, her strength failed her; +overcome by the purity of the air and the sublimity of the scene, +she sank fainting into Harry's arms, who, watching her closely, +was ready to support her. + +The youthful maiden, hitherto entombed in the massive depths +of the earth, had now obtained an idea of the universe-- +of the works both of God and of man. She had looked upon town +and country, and beyond these, into the immensity of the sea, +the infinity of the heavens. + + +CHAPTER XV LOCH LOMOND AND LOCH KATRINE + + +HARRY bore Nell carefully down the steeps of Arthur's Seat, +and, accompanied by James Starr and Jack Ryan, they reached +Lambert's Hotel. There a good breakfast restored their strength, +and they began to make further plans for an excursion to +the Highland lakes. + +Nell was now refreshed, and able to look boldly forth into the sunshine, +while her lungs with ease inhaled the free and healthful air. +Her eyes learned gladly to know the harmonious varieties of color +as they rested on the green trees, the azure skies, and all the endless +shades of lovely flowers and plants. + +The railway train, which they entered at the Waverley Station, conveyed +Nell and her friends to Glasgow. There, from the new bridge across +the Clyde, they watched the curious sea-like movement of the river. +After a night's rest at Comrie's Royal Hotel, they betook themselves +to the terminus of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway, from whence +a train would rapidly carry them, by way of Dumbarton and Balloch, +to the southern extremity of Loch Lomond. + +"Now for the land of Rob Roy and Fergus MacIvor!--the scenery +immortalized by the poetical descriptions of Walter Scott," +exclaimed James Starr. "You don't know this country, Jack?" + +"Only by its songs, Mr. Starr," replied Jack; "and judging by those, +it must be grand." + +"So it is, so it is!" cried the engineer, "and our dear Nell +shall see it to the best advantage." + +A steamboat, the SINCLAIR by name, awaited tourists about to make +the excursion to the lakes. Nell and her companions went on board. +The day had begun in brilliant sunshine, free from the British fogs +which so often veil the skies. + +The passengers were determined to lose none of the beauties of nature +to be displayed during the thirty miles' voyage. Nell, seated between +James Starr and Harry, drank in with every faculty the magnificent poetry +with which lovely Scottish scenery is fraught. Numerous small isles and +islets soon appeared, as though thickly sown on the bosom of the lake. +The SINCLAIR steamed her way among + +371 + +them, while between them glimpses could be had of quiet valleys, +or wild rocky gorges on the mainland. + +"Nell," said James Starr, "every island here has its legend, +perhaps its song, as well as the mountains which overshadow the lake. +One may, without much exaggeration, say that the history of this +country is written in gigantic characters of mountains and islands." + +Nell listened, but these fighting stories made her sad. +Why all that bloodshed on plains which to her seemed enormous, +and where surely there must have been room for everybody? + +The shores of the lake form a little harbor at Luss. Nell could +for a moment catch sight of the old tower of its ancient castle. +Then, the SINCLAIR turning northward, the tourists gazed upon Ben Lomond, +towering nearly 3,000 feet above the level of the lake. + +"Oh, what a noble mountain!" cried Nell; "what a view there must +be from the top!" + +"Yes, Nell," answered James Starr; "see how haughtily its peak +rises from amidst the thicket of oaks, birches, and heather, +which clothe the lower portion of the mountain! From thence one +may see two-thirds of old Caledonia. This eastern side of the lake +was the special abode of the clan McGregor. At no great distance, +the struggles of the Jacobites and Hanoverians repeatedly +dyed with blood these lonely glens. Over these scenes shines +the pale moon, called in old ballads 'Macfarlane's lantern.' +Among these rocks still echo the immortal names of Rob Roy +and McGregor Campbell." + +As the SINCLAIR advanced along the base of the mountain, +the country became more and more abrupt in character. +Trees were only scattered here and there; among them were the willows, +slender wands of which were formerly used for hanging persons +of low degree. + +"To economize hemp," remarked James Starr. + +The lake narrowed very much as it stretched northwards. + +The steamer passed a few more islets, Inveruglas, Eilad-whow, where stand +some ruins of a stronghold of the clan MacFarlane. At length the head +of the loch was reached, and the SINCLAIR stopped at Inversnaid. + +Leaving Loch Arklet on the left, a steep ascent led to the Inn +of Stronachlacar, on the banks of Loch Katrine. + + +There, at the end of a light pier, floated a small steamboat, +named, as a matter of course, the Rob Roy. The travelers +immediately went on board; it was about to start. Loch Katrine +is only ten miles in length; its width never exceeds two miles. +The hills nearest it are full of a character peculiar to themselves. + +"Here we are on this famous lake," said James Starr. "It has +been compared to an eel on account of its length and windings: +and justly so. They say that it never freezes. +I know nothing about that, but what we want to think of is, +that here are the scenes of the adventures in the Lady of +the Lake. I believe, if friend Jack looked about him carefully, +he might see, still gliding over the surface of the water, +the shade of the slender form of sweet Ellen Douglas." + +"To be sure, Mr. Starr," replied Jack; "why should I not? +I may just as well see that pretty girl on the waters of Loch Katrine, +as those ugly ghosts on Loch Malcolm in the coal pit." + +It was by this time three o'clock in the afternoon. The less hilly +shores of Loch Katrine westward extended like a picture framed between +Ben An and Ben Venue. At the distance of half a mile was the entrance +to the narrow bay, where was the landing-place for our tourists, +who meant to return to Stirling by Callander. + +Nell appeared completely worn out by the continued excitement of the day. +A faint ejaculation was all she was able to utter in token +of admiration as new objects of wonder or beauty met her gaze. +She required some hours of rest, were it but to impress lastingly +the recollection of all she had seen. + +Her hand rested in Harry's, and, looking earnestly at her, he said, +"Nell, dear Nell, we shall soon be home again in the gloomy region +of the coal mine. Shall you not pine for what you have seen during +these few hours spent in the glorious light of day?" + +"No, Harry," replied the girl; "I shall like to think about it, +but I am glad to go back with you to our dear old home." + +"Nell!" said Harry, vainly attempting to steady his voice, +"are you willing to be bound to me by the most sacred tie? +Could you marry me, Nell?" + + +"Yes, Harry, I could, if you are sure that I am able to make you happy," +answered the maiden, raising her innocent eyes to his. + +Scarcely had she pronounced these words when an unaccountable +phenomenon took place. The Rob Roy, still half a mile +from land, experienced a violent shock. She suddenly grounded. +No efforts of the engine could move her. + +The cause of this accident was simply that Loch Katrine was all at +once emptied, as though an enormous fissure had opened in its bed. +In a few seconds it had the appearance of a sea beach at low water. +Nearly the whole of its contents had vanished into the bosom +of the earth. + +"My friends!" exclaimed James Starr, as the cause of this marvel +became suddenly clear to him, "God help New Aberfoyle!" + + +CHAPTER XVI A FINAL THREAT + + +ON that day, in the colliery of New Aberfoyle, work was going on in +the usual regular way. In the distance could be heard the crash of great +charges of dynamite, by which the carboniferous rocks were blasted. +Here masses of coal were loosened by pick-ax and crowbar; +there the perforating machines, with their harsh grating, +bored through the masses of sandstone and schist. + +Hollow, cavernous noises resounded on all sides. +Draughts of air rushed along the ventilating galleries, +and the wooden swing-doors slammed beneath their violent gusts. +In the lower tunnels, trains of trucks kept passing along at +the rate of fifteen miles an hour, while at their approach electric +bells warned the workmen to cower down in the refuge places. +Lifts went incessantly up and down, worked by powerful engines +on the surface of the soil. Coal Town was throughout brilliantly +lighted by the electric lamps at full power. + +Mining operations were being carried on with the greatest activity; +coal was being piled incessantly into the trucks, which went in hundreds +to empty themselves into the corves at the bottom of the shaft. +While parties of miners who + +had labored during the night were taking needful rest, the others +worked without wasting an hour. + +Old Simon Ford and Madge, having finished their dinner, were resting +at the door of their cottage. Simon smoked a good pipe of tobacco, +and from time to time the old couple spoke of Nell, of their boy, +of Mr. Starr, and wondered how they liked their trip to the surface +of the earth. Where would they be now? What would they be doing? +How could they stay so long away from the mine without feeling homesick? + +Just then a terrific roaring noise was heard. It was like the sound of a +mighty cataract rushing down into the mine. The old people rose hastily. +They perceived at once that the waters of Loch Malcolm were rising. +A great wave, unfurling like a billow, swept up the bank and broke +against the walls of the cottage. Simon caught his wife in his arms, +and carried her to the upper part of their dwelling. + +At the same moment, cries arose from all parts of Coal Town, +which was threatened by a sudden inundation. The inhabitants fled +for safety to the top of the schist rocks bordering the lake; +terror spread in all directions; whole families in frantic haste +rushed towards the tunnel in order to reach the upper regions +of the pit. + +It was feared that the sea had burst into the colliery, for its galleries +and passages penetrated as far as the Caledonian Canal. In that case +the entire excavation, vast as it was, would be completely flooded. +Not a single inhabitant of New Aberfoyle would escape death. + +But when the foremost fugitives reached the entrance to the tunnel, +they encountered Simon Ford, who had quitted his cottage. +"Stop, my friends, stop!" shouted the old man; "if our town +is to be overwhelmed, the floods will rush faster than you can; +no one can possibly escape. But see! the waters are rising +no further! it appears to me the danger is over." + +"And our comrades at the far end of the works--what about them?" +cried some of the miners. + +"There is nothing to fear for them," replied Simon; "they are working +on a higher level than the bed of the loch." + +It was soon evident that the old man was in the right. +The sudden influx of water had rushed to the very lowest + +bed of the vast mine, and its only ultimate effect was to raise +the level of Loch Malcolm a few feet. Coal Town was uninjured, +and it was reasonable to hope that no one had perished in the flood +of water which had descended to the depths of the mine never yet +penetrated by the workmen. + +Simon and his men could not decide whether this inundation was owing +to the overflow of a subterranean sheet of water penetrating fissures +in the solid rock, or to some underground torrent breaking through its +worn bed, and precipitating itself to the lowest level of the mine. +But that very same evening they knew what to think about it, +for the local papers published an account of the marvelous phenomenon +which Loch Katrine had exhibited. + +The surprising news was soon after confirmed by the four travelers, who, +returning with all possible speed to the cottage, learned with extreme +satisfaction that no serious damage was done in New Aberfoyle. + +The bed of Loch Katrine had fairly given way. The waters had suddenly +broken through by an enormous fissure into the mine beneath. +Of Sir Walter Scott's favorite loch there was not left enough to wet +the pretty foot of the Lady of the Lake; all that remained was a pond +of a few acres at the further extremity. + +This singular event made a profound sensation in the country. +It was a thing unheard of that a lake should in the space of a few +minutes empty itself, and disappear into the bowels of the earth. +There was nothing for it but to erase Loch Katrine from the map of +Scotland until (by public subscription) it could be refilled, care being +of course taken, in the first place, to stop the rent up tight. +This catastrophe would have been the death of Sir Walter Scott, +had he still been in the world. + +The accident was explicable when it was ascertained that, +between the bed of the lake and the vast cavity beneath, +the geological strata had become reduced to a thin layer, +incapable of longer sustaining the weight of water. + +Now, although to most people this event seemed plainly due +to natural causes, yet to James Starr and his friends, +Simon and Harry Ford, the question constantly recurred, +was it not rather to be attributed to malevolence? +Uneasy suspicions continually harassed their minds. +Was their evil + +genius about to renew his persecution of those who ventured to work +this rich mine? + +At the cottage, some days later, James Starr thus discussed +the matter with the old man and his son: "Well, Simon," said he, +"to my thinking we must class this circumstance with the others +for which we still seek elucidation, although it is no doubt +possible to explain it by natural causes." + +"I am quite of your mind, Mr. James," replied Simon, "but take my advice, +and say nothing about it; let us make all researches ourselves." + +"Oh, I know the result of such research beforehand!" cried the engineer. + +"And what will it be, then?" + +"We shall find proofs of malevolence, but not the malefactor." + +"But he exists! he is there! Where can he lie concealed? +Is it possible to conceive that the most depraved human being could, +single-handed, carry out an idea so infernal as that of bursting +through the bed of a lake? I believe I shall end by thinking, +like Jack Ryan, that the evil demon of the mine revenges himself +on us for having invaded his domain." + +Nell was allowed to hear as little as possible of these discussions. +Indeed, she showed no desire to enter into them, although it was +very evident that she shared in the anxieties of her adopted parents. +The melancholy in her countenance bore witness to much mental agitation. + +It was at length resolved that James Starr, together with +Simon and Harry, should return to the scene of the disaster, +and endeavor to satisfy themselves as to the cause of it. +They mentioned their project to no one. To those unacquainted +with the group of facts on which it was based, the opinion of Starr +and his friends could not fail to appear wholly inadmissible. + +A few days later, the three friends proceeded in a small boat to examine +the natural pillars on which had rested the solid earth forming +the basin of Loch Katrine. They discovered that they had been right +in suspecting that the massive columns had been undermined by blasting. +The blackened traces of explosion were to be seen, the waters having +subsided below the level of these mysterious operations +Thus the fall of a portion of the vast vaulted dome was +proved to have been premeditated by man, and by man's hand +had it been effected. + +"It is impossible to doubt it," said James Starr; "and who can say +what might not have happened had the sea, instead of a little loch, +been let in upon us?" + +"You may well say that," cried the old overman, with a feeling of pride +in his beloved mine; "for nothing less than a sea would have drowned +our Aberfoyle. But, once more, what possible interest could any human +being have in the destruction of our works?" + +"It is quite incomprehensible," replied James Starr. "This case is +something perfectly unlike that of a band of common criminals, who, +concealing themselves in dens and caves, go forth to rob and pillage +the surrounding country. The evil deeds of such men would certainly, +in the course of three years have betrayed their existence and +lurking-places. Neither can it be, as I sometimes used to think, +that smugglers or coiners carried on their illegal practices +in some distant and unknown corner of these prodigious caverns, +and were consequently anxious to drive us out of them. +But no one coins false money or obtains contraband goods only +to conceal them! + +"Yet it is clear that an implacable enemy has sworn +the ruin of New Aberfoyle, and that some interest urges him +to seek in every possible way to wreak his hatred upon us. +He appears to be too weak to act openly, and lays his schemes +in secret; but displays such intelligence as to render him +a most formidable foe. + +"My friends, he must understand better than we do the secrets +of our domain, since he has all this time eluded our vigilance. +He must be a man experienced in mining, skilled beyond the most skillful-- +that's certain, Simon! We have proof enough of that. + +"Let me see! Have you never had a personal enemy, +to whom your suspicions might point? Think well! +There is such a thing as hatred which time never softens. +Go back to recollections of your earliest days. +What befalls us appears the work of a stern and patient will, +and to explain it demands every effort of thought and memory." + +Simon did not answer immediately--his mind evidently engaged +in a close and candid survey of his past life. Presently, +raising his head, "No," said he; "no! Heaven be my witness, +neither Madge nor I have ever injured anybody. We cannot +believe that we have a single enemy in the world." + +"Ah! if Nell would only speak!" cried the engineer. + +"Mr. Starr--and you, father," said Harry, "I do beg of you to keep +silence on this matter, and not to question my poor Nell. I know she +is very anxious and uneasy; and I feel positive that some great secret +painfully oppresses her heart. Either she knows nothing it would be +of any use for us to hear, or she considers it her duty to be silent. +It is impossible to doubt her affection for us--for all of us. +If at a future time she informs me of what she has hitherto concealed +from us, you shall know about it immediately." + +"So be it, then, Harry," answered the engineer; "and yet I must say +Nell's silence, if she knows anything, is to me perfectly inexplicable." + +Harry would have continued her defense; but the engineer +stopped him, saying, "All right, Harry; we promise to say +no more about it to your future wife." + +"With my father's consent she shall be my wife without further delay." + +"My boy," said old Simon, "your marriage shall take place +this very day month. Mr. Starr, will you undertake the part +of Nell's father?" + +"You may reckon upon me for that, Simon," answered the engineer. + +They then returned to the cottage, but said not a word +of the result of their examinations in the mine, so that to +the rest of its inhabitants, the bursting in of the vaulted roof +of the caverns continued to be regarded as a mere accident. +There was but a loch the less in Scotland. + +Nell gradually resumed her customary duties, and Harry made good use +of her little visit to the upper air, in the instructions he gave her. +She enjoyed the recollections of life above ground, yet without +regretting it. The somber region she had loved as a child, and in +which her wedded life would be spent, was as dear to her as ever. + +The approaching marriage created great excitement in +New Aberfoyle. Good wishes poured in on all sides, and foremost +among them were Jack Ryan's. He was detected busily practicing +his best songs in preparation for the great + +day, which was to be celebrated by the whole population of Coal Town. + +During the month preceding the wedding-day, there were more accidents +occurring in New Aberfoyle than had ever been known in the place. +One would have thought the approaching union of Harry and Nell +actually provoked one catastrophe after another. These misfortunes +happened chiefly at the further and lowest extremity of the works, +and the cause of them was always in some way mysterious. + +Thus, for instance, the wood-work of a distant gallery was discovered +to be in flames, which were extinguished by Harry and his companions +at the risk of their lives, by employing engines filled with water +and carbonic acid, always kept ready in case of necessity. +The lamp used by the incendiary was found; but no clew whatever +as to who he could be. + +Another time an inundation took place in consequence of the stanchions +of a water-tank giving way; and Mr. Starr ascertained beyond a doubt +that these supports had first of all been partially sawn through. +Harry, who had been overseeing the works near the place at the time, +was buried in the falling rubbish, and narrowly escaped death. + +A few days afterwards, on the steam tramway, a train of trucks, +which Harry was passing along, met with an obstacle on the rails, +and was overturned. It was then discovered that a beam had been +laid across the line. In short, events of this description became +so numerous that the miners were seized with a kind of panic, +and it required all the influence of their chiefs to keep them +on the works. + +"You would think that there was a whole band of these ruffians," +Simon kept saying, "and we can't lay hands on a single one of them." + +Search was made in all directions. The county police were on the alert +night and day, yet discovered nothing. The evil intentions seeming +specially designed to injure Harry. Starr forbade him to venture alone +beyond the ordinary limits of the works. + +They were equally careful of Nell, although, at Harry's entreaty, +these malicious attempts to do harm were concealed from her, +because they might remind her painfully + +of former times. Simon and Madge watched over her by day +and by night with a sort of stern solicitude. The poor child +yielded to their wishes, without a remark or a complaint. +Did she perceive that they acted with a view to her interest? +Probably she did. And on her part, she seemed to watch over others, +and was never easy unless all whom she loved were together +in the cottage. + +When Harry came home in the evening, she could not restrain +expressions of child-like joy, very unlike her usual manner, +which was rather reserved than demonstrative. As soon as day broke, +she was astir before anyone else, and her constant uneasiness +lasted all day until the hour of return home from work. + +Harry became very anxious that their marriage should take place. +He thought that, when the irrevocable step was taken, malevolence would +be disarmed, and that Nell would never feel safe until she was his wife. +James Starr, Simon, and Madge, were all of the same opinion, +and everyone counted the intervening days, for everyone suffered +from the most uncomfortable forebodings. + +It was perfectly evident that nothing relating to Nell was indifferent +to this hidden foe, whom it was impossible to meet or to avoid. +Therefore it seemed quite possible that the solemn act of her marriage +with Harry might be the occasion of some new and dreadful outbreak +of his hatred. + +One morning, a week before the day appointed for the ceremony, +Nell, rising early, went out of the cottage before anyone else. +No sooner had she crossed the threshold than a cry of indescribable +anguish escaped her lips. + +Her voice was heard throughout the dwelling; in a moment, +Madge, Harry, and Simon were at her side. Nell was pale as death, +her countenance agitated, her features expressing the utmost horror. +Unable to speak, her eyes were riveted on the door of the cottage, +which she had just opened. + +With rigid fingers she pointed to the following words traced upon it +during the night: "Simon Ford, you have robbed me of the last vein +in our old pit. Harry, your son, has robbed me of Nell. Woe betide you! +Woe betide you all! Woe betide New Aberfoyle!--SILFAX." + +"Silfax!" exclaimed Simon and Madge together. + + +"Who is this man?" demanded Harry, looking alternately at his father +and at the maiden. + +"Silfax!" repeated Nell in tones of despair, "Silfax!"--and, +murmuring this name, her whole frame shuddering with fear +and agitation, she was borne away to her chamber by old Madge. + +James Starr, hastening to the spot, read the threatening sentences +again and again. + +"The hand which traced these lines," said he at length, "is the same +which wrote me the letter contradicting yours, Simon. The man calls +himself Silfax. I see by your troubled manner that you know him. +Who is this Silfax?" + + +CHAPTER XVII THE "MONK" + + +THIS name revealed everything to the old overman. +It was that of the last "monk" of the Dochart pit. + +In former days, before the invention of the safety-lamp, Simon had +known this fierce man, whose business it was to go daily, at the risk +of his life, to produce partial explosions of fire-damp in the passages. +He used to see this strange solitary being, prowling about the mine, +always accompanied by a monstrous owl, which he called Harfang, +who assisted him in his perilous occupation, by soaring with a lighted +match to places Silfax was unable to reach. + +One day this old man disappeared, and at the same time also, +a little orphan girl born in the mine, who had no relation +but himself, her great-grandfather. It was perfectly evident +now that this child was Nell. During the fifteen years, +up to the time when she was saved by Harry, they must have lived +in some secret abyss of the mine. + +The old overman, full of mingled compassion and anger, made known to +the engineer and Harry all that the name of Silfax had revealed to him. +It explained the whole mystery. Silfax was the mysterious being so long +vainly sought for in the depths of New Aberfoyle. + +"So you knew him, Simon?" demanded Mr. Starr. + +"Yes, that I did," replied the overman. "The Harfang man, +we used to call him. Why, he was old then! He must be fifteen +or twenty years older than I am. A wild, + +savage sort of fellow, who held aloof from everyone and was known +to fear nothing--neither fire nor water. It was his own fancy +to follow the trade of 'monk,' which few would have liked. +The constant danger of the business had unsettled his brain. +He was prodigiously strong, and he knew the mine as no one else-- +at any rate, as well as I did. He lived on a small allowance. +In faith, I believed him dead years ago." + +"But," resumed James Starr, "what does he mean by those words, +'You have robbed me of the last vein of our old mine'?" + +"Ah! there it is," replied Simon; "for a long time it +had been a fancy of his--I told you his mind was deranged-- +that he had a right to the mine of Aberfoyle; so he became +more and more savage in temper the deeper the Dochart pit-- +his pit!--was worked out. It just seemed as if it was his +own body that suffered from every blow of the pickax. +You must remember that, Madge?" + +"Ay, that I do, Simon," replied she. + +"I can recollect all this," resumed Simon, "since I have seen the name +of Silfax on the door. But I tell you, I thought the man was dead, +and never imagined that the spiteful being we have so long sought +for could be the old fireman of the Dochart pit." + +"Well, now, then," said Starr, "it is all quite plain. +Chance made known to Silfax the new vein of coal. +With the egotism of madness, he believed himself the owner +of a treasure he must conceal and defend. Living in the mine, +and wandering about day and night, he perceived that you had discovered +the secret, and had written in all haste to beg me to come. +Hence the letter contradicting yours; hence, after my arrival, +all the accidents that occurred, such as the block of stone +thrown at Harry, the broken ladder at the Yarrow shaft, +the obstruction of the openings into the wall of the new cutting; +hence, in short, our imprisonment, and then our deliverance, +brought about by the kind assistance of Nell, who acted of +course without the knowledge of this man Silfax, and contrary +to his intentions." + +"You describe everything exactly as it must have happened, Mr. Starr," +returned old Simon. "The old 'Monk' is mad enough now, at any rate!" + +"All the better," quoth Madge. + + +"I don't know that," said Starr, shaking his head; "it is a terrible +sort of madness this." + +"Ah! now I understand that the very thought of him must have terrified +poor little Nell, and also I see that she could not bear to denounce +her grandfather. What a miserable time she must have had of it +with the old man!" + +"Miserable with a vengeance," replied Simon, "between that savage and +his owl, as savage as himself. Depend upon it, that bird isn't dead. +That was what put our lamp out, and also so nearly cut the rope +by which Harry and Nell were suspended." + +"And then, you see," said Madge, "this news of the marriage of our son +with his granddaughter added to his rancor and ill-will." + +"To be sure," said Simon. "To think that his Nell should marry +one of the robbers of his own coal mine would just drive +him wild altogether." + +"He will have to make up his mind to it, however," cried Harry. "Mad as +he is, we shall manage to convince him that Nell is better off +with us here than ever she was in the caverns of the pit. +I am sure, Mr. Starr, if we could only catch him, we should be able +to make him listen to reason." + +"My poor Harry! there is no reasoning with a madman," +replied the engineer. "Of course it is better to know your +enemy than not; but you must not fancy all is right because we +have found out who he is. We must be on our guard, my friends; +and to begin with, Harry, you positively must question Nell. +She will perceive that her silence is no longer reasonable. +Even for her grandfather's own interest, she ought to speak now. +For his own sake, as well as for ours, these insane plots must +be put a stop to." + +"I feel sure, Mr. Starr," answered Harry, "that Nell will +of herself propose to tell you what she knows. You see it +was from a sense of duty that she has been silent hitherto. +My mother was very right to take her to her room just now. +She much needed time to recover her spirits; but now I will +go for her." + +"You need not do so, Harry," said the maiden in a clear and firm voice, +as she entered at that moment the room in which they were. +Nell was very pale; traces of tears were in her eyes; but her whole +manner showed that she had nerved herself to act as her loyal heart +dictated as her duty. + + +"Nell!" cried Harry, springing towards her. + +The girl arrested her lover by a gesture, and continued, +"Your father and mother, and you, Harry, must now know all. +And you too, Mr. Starr, must remain ignorant of nothing +that concerns the child you have received, and whom Harry-- +unfortunately for him, alas!--drew from the abyss." + +"Oh, Nell! what are you saying?" cried Harry. + +"Allow her to speak," said James Starr in a decided tone. + +"I am the granddaughter of old Silfax," resumed Nell. "I never knew +a mother till the day I came here," added she, looking at Madge. + +"Blessed be that day, my daughter!" said the old woman. + +"I knew no father till I saw Simon Ford," continued Nell; +"nor friend till the day when Harry's hand touched mine. +Alone with my grandfather I have lived during fifteen +years in the remote and most solitary depths of the mine. +I say WITH my grandfather, but I can scarcely use the expression, +for I seldom saw him. When he disappeared from Old Aberfoyle, +he concealed himself in caverns known only to himself. +In his way he was kind to me, dreadful as he was; he fed me +with whatever he could procure from outside the mine; but I can +dimly recollect that in my earliest years I was the nursling +of a goat, the death of which was a bitter grief to me. +My grandfather, seeing my distress, brought me another animal-- +a dog he said it was. But, unluckily, this dog was lively, +and barked. Grandfather did not like anything cheerful. +He had a horror of noise, and had taught me to be silent; +the dog he could not teach to be quiet, so the poor animal +very soon disappeared. My grandfather's companion was a +ferocious bird, Harfang, of which, at first, I had a perfect horror; +but this creature, in spite of my dislike to it, took such +a strong affection for me, that I could not help returning it. +It even obeyed me better than its master, which used to make me +quite uneasy, for my grandfather was jealous. Harfang and I +did not dare to let him see us much together; we both knew it +would be dangerous. But I am talking too much about myself: +the great thing is about you." + +"No, my child," said James Starr, "tell us everything that comes +to your mind." + + +"My grandfather," continued Nell, "always regarded your abode +in the mine with a very evil eye--not that there was any lack +of space. His chosen refuge was far--very far from you. +But he could not bear to feel that you were there. If I asked any +questions about the people up above us, his face grew dark, he gave +no answer, and continued quite silent for a long time afterwards. +But when he perceived that, not content with the old domain, +you seemed to think of encroaching upon his, then indeed +his anger burst forth. He swore that, were you to succeed +in reaching the new mine, you should assuredly perish. +Notwithstanding his great age, his strength is astonishing, +and his threats used to make me tremble." + +"Go on, Nell, my child," said Simon to the girl, who paused as though +to collect her thoughts. + +"On the occasion of your first attempt," resumed Nell, +"as soon as my grandfather saw that you were fairly +inside the gallery leading to New Aberfoyle, he stopped +up the opening, and turned it into a prison for you. +I only knew you as shadows dimly seen in the gloom of the pit, +but I could not endure the idea that you would die of hunger +in these horrid places; and so, at the risk of being detected, +I succeeded in obtaining bread and water for you during some days. +I should have liked to help you to escape, but it was +so difficult to avoid the vigilance of my grandfather. +You were about to die. Then arrived Jack Ryan and the others. +By the providence of God I met with them, and instantly guided +them to where you were. When my grandfather discovered what I +had done, his rage against me was terrible. I expected death +at his hands. After that my life became insupportable to me. +My grandfather completely lost his senses. He proclaimed +himself King of Darkness and Flame; and when he heard your tools +at work on coal-beds which he considered entirely his own, +he became furious and beat me cruelly. I would have fled +from him, but it was impossible, so narrowly did he watch me. +At last, in a fit of ungovernable fury, he threw me down into +the abyss where you found me, and disappeared, vainly calling +on Harfang, which faithfully stayed by me, to follow him. +I know not how long I remained there, but I felt I was at +the point of death when you, my Harry, came and saved me. +But now you all see that the grandchild of old Silfax can + +never be the wife of Harry Ford, because it would be certain +death to you all!" + +"Nell!" cried Harry. + +"No," continued the maiden, "my resolution is taken. By one means +only can your ruin be averted; I must return to my grandfather. +He threatens to destroy the whole of New Aberfoyle. His is +a soul incapable of mercy or forgiveness, and no mortal can +say to what horrid deed the spirit of revenge will lead him. +My duty is clear; I should be the most despicable creature on earth +did I hesitate to perform it. Farewell! I thank you all heartily. +You only have taught me what happiness is. Whatever may befall, +believe that my whole heart remains with you." + +At these words, Simon, Madge, and Harry started up in an agony of grief, +exclaiming in tones of despair, "What, Nell! is it possible you +would leave us?" + +James Starr put them all aside with an air of authority, and, +going straight up to Nell, he took both her hands in his, +saying quietly, "Very right, my child; you have said exactly what you +ought to say; and now listen to what we have to say in reply. +We shall not let you go away; if necessary, we shall keep you by force. +Do you think we could be so base as to accept of your generous proposal? +These threats of Silfax are formidable--no doubt about it! +But, after all, a man is but a man, and we can take precautions. +You will tell us, will you not, even for his own sake, all you can +about his habits and his lurking-places? All we want to do is to put +it out of his power to do harm, and perhaps bring him to reason." + +"You want to do what is quite impossible," said Nell. "My grandfather +is everywhere and nowhere. I have never seen his retreats. +I have never seen him sleep. If he meant to conceal himself, +he used to leave me alone, and vanish. When I took my resolution, +Mr. Starr, I was aware of everything you could say against it. +Believe me, there is but one way to render Silfax powerless, +and that will be by my return to him. Invisible himself, +he sees everything that goes on. Just think whether it is +likely he could discover your very thoughts and intentions, +from that time when the letter was written to Mr. Starr, +up to now that my marriage with Harry has been arranged, if he did +not possess the extraordinary faculty of knowing everything. +As far as I + +am able to judge, my grandfather, in his very insanity, +is a man of most powerful mind. He formerly used to talk to me +on very lofty subjects. He taught me the existence of God, +and never deceived me but on one point, which was--that he made me +believe that all men were base and perfidious, because he wished +to inspire me with his own hatred of all the human race. +When Harry brought me to the cottage, you thought I was simply +ignorant of mankind, but, far beyond that, I was in mortal fear +of you all. Ah, forgive me! I assure you, for many days I +believed myself in the power of wicked wretches, and I longed +to escape. You, Madge, first led me to perceive the truth, +not by anything you said, but by the sight of your daily life, +for I saw that your husband and son loved and respected you! +Then all these good and happy workmen, who so revere +and trust Mr. Starr, I used to think they were slaves; +and when, for the first time, I saw the whole population +of Aberfoyle come to church and kneel down to pray to God, +and praise Him for His infinite goodness, I said to myself, +'My grandfather has deceived me.' But now, enlightened by all you +have taught me, I am inclined to think he himself is deceived. +I mean to return to the secret passages I formerly frequented +with him. He is certain to be on the watch. I will call to him; +he will hear me, and who knows but that, by returning to him, +I may be able to bring him to the knowledge of the truth?" + +The maiden spoke without interruption, for all felt that it +was good for her to open her whole heart to her friends. + +But when, exhausted by emotion, and with eyes full of tears, +she ceased speaking, Harry turned to old Madge and said, +"Mother, what should you think of the man who could forsake +the noble girl whose words you have been listening to?" + +"I should think he was a base coward," said Madge, "and, were he my son, +I should renounce and curse him." + +"Nell, do you hear what our mother says?" resumed Harry. "Wherever you +go I will follow you. If you persist in leaving us, we will +go away together." + +"Harry! Harry!" cried Nell. + +Overcome by her feelings, the girl's lips blanched, and she sank +into the arms of Madge, who begged she might be left alone with her. + + +CHAPTER XVIII NELL'S WEDDING + + +IT was agreed that the inhabitants of the cottage must keep more on +their guard than ever. The threats of old Silfax were too serious +to be disregarded. It was only too possible that he possessed some +terrible means by which the whole of Aberfoyle might be annihilated. + +Armed sentinels were posted at the various entrances to +the mine, with orders to keep strict watch day and night. +Any stranger entering the mine was brought before James Starr, +that he might give an account of himself. There being no fear +of treason among the inhabitants of Coal Town, the threatened +danger to the subterranean colony was made known to them. +Nell was informed of all the precautions taken, and became +more tranquil, although she was not free from uneasiness. +Harry's determination to follow her wherever she went compelled +her to promise not to escape from her friends. + +During the week preceding the wedding, no accident whatever +occurred in Aberfoyle. The system of watching was carefully +maintained, but the miners began to recover from the panic, +which had seriously interrupted the work of excavation. +James Starr continued to look out for Silfax. The old man having +vindictively declared that Nell should never marry Simon's son, +it was natural to suppose that he would not hesitate to commit +any violent deed which would hinder their union. + +The examination of the mine was carried on minutely. +Every passage and gallery was searched, up to those higher ranges +which opened out among the ruins of Dundonald Castle. It was rightly +supposed that through this old building Silfax passed out to obtain +what was needful for the support of his miserable existence +(which he must have done, either by purchasing or thieving). + +As to the "fire-maidens," James Starr began to think that appearance +must have been produced by some jet of fire-damp gas which, +issuing from that part of the pit, could be lighted by Silfax. He was +not far wrong; but all search for proof of this was fruitless, +and the continued strain of anxiety in this perpetual effort +to detect a malignant and invisible being rendered the engineer-- +outwardly calm--an unhappy man. + +389 + + +As the wedding-day approached, his dread of some catastrophe increased, +and he could not but speak of it to the old overman, whose uneasiness +soon more than equaled his own. At length the day came. +Silfax had given no token of existence. + +By daybreak the entire population of Coal Town was astir. +Work was suspended; overseers and workmen alike desired to do +honor to Simon Ford and his son. They all felt they owed a large +debt of gratitude to these bold and persevering men, by whose +means the mine had been restored to its former prosperity. +The ceremony was to take place at eleven o'clock, in St. Giles's chapel, +which stood on the shores of Loch Malcolm. + +At the appointed time, Harry left the cottage, +supporting his mother on his arm, while Simon led the bride. +Following them came Starr, the engineer, composed in manner, +but in reality nerved to expect the worst, and Jack Ryan, +stepping superb in full Highland piper's costume. +Then came the other mining engineers, the principal people +of Coal Town, the friends and comrades of the old overman-- +every member of this great family of miners forming the population +of New Aberfoyle. + +In the outer world, the day was one of the hottest of the month +of August, peculiarly oppressive in northern countries. The sultry air +penetrated the depths of the coal mine, and elevated the temperature. +The air which entered through the ventilating shafts, and the great +tunnel of Loch Malcolm, was charged with electricity, and the barometer, +it was afterwards remarked, had fallen in a remarkable manner. +There was, indeed, every indication that a storm might burst forth +beneath the rocky vault which formed the roof of the enormous crypt +of the very mine itself. + +But the inhabitants were not at that moment troubling themselves +about the chances of atmospheric disturbance above ground. +Everybody, as a matter of course, had put on his best clothes +for the occasion. Madge was dressed in the fashion of days +gone by, wearing the "toy" and the "rokelay," or Tartan plaid, +of matrons of the olden time, old Simon wore a coat of which +Bailie Nicol Jarvie himself would have approved. + +Nell had resolved to show nothing of her mental agitation; +she forbade her heart to beat, or her inward terrors to + +betray themselves, and the brave girl appeared before all with a calm +and collected aspect. She had declined every ornament of dress, +and the very simplicity of her attire added to the charming elegance +of her appearance. Her hair was bound with the "snood," the usual +head-dress of Scottish maidens. + +All proceeded towards St. Giles's chapel, which had been handsomely +decorated for the occasion. + +The electric discs of light which illuminated Coal Town +blazed like so many suns. A luminous atmosphere pervaded +New Aberfoyle. In the chapel, electric lamps shed a glow over +the stained-glass windows, which shone like fiery kaleidoscopes. +At the porch of the chapel the minister awaited the arrival +of the wedding party. + +It approached, after having passed in stately procession along +the shore of Loch Malcolm. Then the tones of the organ were heard, +and, preceded by the minister, the group advanced into the chapel. +The Divine blessing was first invoked on all present. +Then Harry and Nell remained alone before the minister, +who, holding the sacred book in his hand, proceeded to say, +"Harry, will you take Nell to be your wife, and will you promise +to love her always?" + +"I promise," answered the young man in a firm and steady voice. + +"And you, Nell," continued the minister, "will you take Harry +to be your husband, and--" + +Before he could finish the sentence, a prodigious noise resounded +from without. One of the enormous rocks, on which was formed +the terrace overhanging the banks of Loch Malcolm, had suddenly +given way and opened without explosion, disclosing a profound abyss, +into which the waters were now wildly plunging. + +In another instant, among the shattered rocks and rushing waves appeared +a canoe, which a vigorous arm propelled along the surface of the lake. +In the canoe was seen the figure of an old man standing upright. +He was clothed in a dark mantle, his hair was dishevelled, a long +white beard fell over his breast, and in his hand he bore a lighted +Davy safety lamp, the flame being protected by the metallic gauze +of the apparatus. + +In a loud voice this old man shouted, "The fire-damp is upon you! +Woe--woe betide ye all!" + + +At the same moment the slight smell peculiar to carburetted hydrogen +was perceptibly diffused through the atmosphere. And, in truth, +the fall of the rock had made a passage of escape for an enormous +quantity of explosive gas, accumulated in vast cavities, the openings +to which had hitherto been blocked up. + +Jets and streams of the fire-damp now rose upward in the vaulted dome; +and well did that fierce old man know that the consequence of what he had +done would be to render explosive the whole atmosphere of the mine. + +James Starr and several others, having hastily quitted the chapel, +and perceived the imminence of the danger, now rushed back, +crying out in accents of the utmost alarm, "Fly from the mine! +Fly instantly from the mine!" + +"Now for the fire-damp! Here comes the fire-damp!" yelled the old man, +urging his canoe further along the lake. + +Harry with his bride, his father and his mother, left the chapel +in haste and in terror. + +"Fly! fly for your lives!" repeated James Starr. Alas! it was +too late to fly! Old Silfax stood there, prepared to fulfill +his last dreadful threat--prepared to stop the marriage of Nell +and Harry by overwhelming the entire population of the place +beneath the ruins of the coal mine. + +As he stood ready to accomplish this act of vengeance, his enormous owl, +whose white plumage was marked with black spots, was seen hovering +directly above his head. + +At that moment a man flung himself into the waters of the lake, +and swam vigorously towards the canoe. + +It was Jack Ryan, fully determined to reach the madman before he could +do the dreadful deed of destruction. + +Silfax saw him coming. Instantly he smashed the glass of his lamp, +and, snatching out the burning wick, waved it in the air. + +Silence like death fell upon the astounded multitude. James Starr, +in the calmness of despair, marvelled that the inevitable explosion +was even for a moment delayed. + +Silfax, gazing upwards with wild and contracted features, appeared to +become aware that the gas, lighter than the lower atmosphere, +was accumulating far up under the dome; and at a sign from him the owl, +seizing in its claw the lighted match, soared upwards to the vaulted roof, +towards which the madman pointed with outstretched arm. + + +Another second and New Aberfoyle would be no more. + +Suddenly Nell sprang from Harry's arms, and, with a bright +look of inspiration, she ran to the very brink of the waters +of the lake. "Harfang! Harfang!" cried she in a clear voice; +"here! come to me!" + +The faithful bird, surprised, appeared to hesitate in its flight. +Presently, recognizing Nell's voice, it dropped the burning match +into the water, and, describing a wide circle, flew downwards, +alighting at the maiden's feet. + +Then a terrible cry echoed through the vaulted roofs. +It was the last sound uttered by old Silfax. + +Just as Jack Ryan laid his hand on the edge of the canoe, the old man, +foiled in his purpose of revenge, cast himself headlong into the waters +of the lake. + +"Save him! oh, save him!" shrieked Nell in a voice of agony. +Immediately Harry plunged into the water, and, swimming towards +Jack Ryan, he dived repeatedly. + +But his efforts were useless. The waters of Loch Malcolm yielded +not their prey: they closed forever over Silfax. + + +CHAPTER XIX THE LEGEND OF OLD SILFAX + + +Six months after these events, the marriage, so strangely interrupted, +was finally celebrated in St. Giles's chapel, and the young couple, +who still wore mourning garments, returned to the cottage. +James Starr and Simon Ford, henceforth free from the anxieties which +had so long distressed them, joyously presided over the entertainment +which followed the ceremony, and prolonged it to the following day. + +On this memorable occasion, Jack Ryan, in his favorite character of piper, +and in all the glory of full dress, blew up his chanter, and astonished +the company by the unheard of achievement of playing, singing, and dancing +all at once. + +It is needless to say that Harry and Nell were happy. +These loving hearts, after the trials they had gone through found +in their union the happiness they deserved. + +As to Simon Ford, the ex-overman of New Aberfoyle, he began to talk +of celebrating his golden wedding, after + +fifty years of marriage with good old Madge, who liked +the idea immensely herself. + +"And after that, why not golden wedding number two?" + +"You would like a couple of fifties, would you, Mr. Simon?" +said Jack Ryan. + +"All right, my boy," replied the overman quietly, "I see nothing +against it in this fine climate of ours, and living far from +the luxury and intemperance of the outer world." + +Will the dwellers in Coal Town ever be called to witness this +second ceremony? Time will show. Certainly the strange bird +of old Silfax seemed destined to attain a wonderful longevity. +The Harfang continued to haunt the gloomy recesses of the cave. +After the old man's death, Nell had attempted to keep the owl, +but in a very few days he flew away. He evidently disliked +human society as much as his master had done, and, besides that, +he appeared to have a particular spite against Harry. The jealous +bird seemed to remember and hate him for having carried off Nell +from the deep abyss, notwithstanding all he could do to prevent him. +Still, at long intervals, Nell would see the creature hovering +above Loch Malcolm. + +Could he possibly be watching for his friend of yore? +Did he strive to pierce, with keen eye, the depths which had +engulfed his master? + +The history of the Harfang became legendary, and furnished +Jack Ryan with many a tale and song. Thanks to him, the story +of old Silfax and his bird will long be preserved, and handed +down to future generations of the Scottish peasantry. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext's of The Underground City, by Jules Verne + + + + + +Note: I have made the following changes to the text: +PAGE LINE ORIGINAL CHANGED TO + 285 31 Collander Callander + 296 4 quarternary quaternary + 301 36 intersting interesting + 349 1 unusued unused + 350 8 lengendary legendary + 379 35 her her. + 390 38 Tarton Tartan + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext's of The Underground City, by Jules Verne + diff --git a/old/ucity10.zip b/old/ucity10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f40a057 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ucity10.zip |