the name, but involuntary creations of an utterly disordered instrument of thought? If unreal sensations, thoughts, and words may be born of involuntary actions of the brain, why not strange and eccentric acts of violence-such acts as madmen themselves attribute to beings other than themselves. The protestations of innocence which these poor madmen make sound strange indeed in the ears of those who have no experience of the insane, and have no conception of, or sympathy with, that aberration of the mind which combines in one awful discord hallucinations and illusions of the senses, delusions of the mind, language of frightful violence, obscenity, or impiety, misery unutterable, and excitement uncontrollable. But we must not be tempted to wander further into this wide field of speculation. Want of space, and the fair claim of our author to have some distinct notice taken of those views to which he obviously attaches most importance, constrain us to notice the special case of those great men who have been subject to hallucinations, but whose memory he wishes to keepclear from all suspicion of unsoundness of mind. In a chapter devoted to the class of hallucinations coexisting with sanity, the reader will recognise many a familiar history with which he first became acquainted in the popular works of Sir David Brewster or Sir Walter Scott, or in the more scientific treatises of Abercrombie, Bostock, Conolly, Paterson, Wigan, or Winslow; and he will be reminded of some of the most curious passages in the lives of such men as Byron, Samuel Johnson, Pope, Goethe, Lord Castlereagh, Benvenuto Cellini, Bernadotte, and the first Napoleon. The author tells us that he has purposely multiplied the illustrations contained in this chapter, and that he selected many of the cases because they relate to celebrated persons, whom no one has ever thought of charging with insanity. 'Some of them,' he tells us, 'have correctly regarded their hallucinations as the offspring of the imagination, or as arising from an unhealthy state of the body. Others, led by their belief in the super natural, by their vanity, by the opinions of the period, or by superstitious feelings, have privately explained them in accordance with their own wishes; but their conversation and their actions have given no evidence of a disordered intellect; in some they may even have been the source of their great deeds. Frequently, however, the hallucination of the sound mind may be seen to glide into the hallucination of insanity, without its being possible always to point out the boundary which separates the one condition from the other, so difficult is it at all times to establish precise limits.' We recognise and fully appreciate this difficulty; but we are not sure that we quite sympathize with the author in his evident desire to acquit great historical personages of the charge of unsoundness of mind, even where they have displayed not simply hallucinations of the senses, but delusions of the mind also. Pope is not to be set down as mad because he saw an arm come out of the wall; nor Dr. Johnson, because he heard his mother's voice call 'Samuel' when he knew her to be far away; nor Goethe, because he one day saw the counterpart of himself coming towards him; nor Byron, because, as the effect of over excitement of the brain, he occasionally fancied he was visited by a spectre; nor Lord Castlereagh, because he twice saw the vision of the Radiant Boy;' nor St. Dunstan, Loyola, and Luther, because of their hallucinations; nor Joan of Arc, perhaps, because of the visions which alternately stimulated her patriotism, and were born of her enthusiasm. It is impossible, however, to read the account given of Benvenuto Cellini at page 62, without entertaining very grave doubts of the propriety of classing him with persons having hallucinations co-existent with sanity.' The remainder of the examples cited in this chapter do not appear to be misplaced. The hallucinations were only of occasional occurrence; they were dependent upon transitory causes; they did not exercise any permanent effect upon conduct; or they grew out of the excitement of great enterprises which they did not mar or impede. It ought also 1859.] Has Political Freedom receded? to be borne in mind that, in the case of the higher order of thinkers and actors, the hallucinations were in harmony with the universal belief of the times in which they lived. They were but representations on the organs of sense of ideas admitted as indisputably true by the society in which they lived and moved. When all the world believed in witchcraft, when the learned author of Vulgar Errors gave authoritative evidence in its favour, when Sir Matthew Hale barely doubted, and juries were quick to convict, the man who alleged that he saw an old lady of eccentric habits and uncertain temper borne through the air on a broomstick, would scarcely have been deemed insane. Of the instances of hallucination co-existing with sanity, cited by M. Brierre de Boismont as occurring in great men, the most persistent is that which affected the first Napoleon. He had a brilliant star all to himself, which, according to his own 631 assertion, never abandoned him, and which he saw, on all great occasions, commanding him to advance, and serving as a sure augury and sign of success. The seeing of such a star, associated with such belief in its reality, is scarcely compatible with sanity, and the case is not improved by the adjuncts of unscrupulous appropriation of the property of others, insatiable ambition, diabolical cruelty, and inveterate falsehood. It would not be difficult, indeed, to discover in this extraordinary man that union of intellectual with moral unsoundness which makes up the history of so many acknowledged lunatics. But some allowance must be made for the times in which he lived, and the examples of craft and cruelty which he had placed before him in the earlier part of his career. So that M. Brierre de Boismont may be forgiven for including the name of Napoleon Buonaparte in his list of great men who preserved their sanity in spite of hallucinations. G. HAS POLITICAL FREEDOM RECEDED? WHETHER we look at the ma terial, the animal, or the social world, progress, when the whole is observed, seems the universal law to which all minor laws contribute. If but a part of even the geological changes were seen in their working, doubts might probably arise as to whether there was not sometimes a retrocession in the scheme of Providence, so terrible would be the first effect of any great natural convulsion to an observer unable to foresee the new life that would spring from the destruction of the old. Such, at all events, would be the conclusion as regards human society, which history allows us to examine more in piecemeal than is possible with the great geological disturbances that took place before the appearance of man upon the globe. For instance: the social results of fourteen hundred years enable us to pronounce that the overthrow of the ancient system of civilization has greatly conduced to the progress of mankind; yet an intelligence whose observation was limited to the barbarism, the ignorance, the violence, and the mere 'rule of might' that prevailed during the centuries immediately following the downfall of the Western Empire, would reasonably have doubted whether that catastrophe was not a sign of the world's retrogradation. When the whole is embraced, it is seen that, whatever may be the crimes or errors of rulers and societies, they are necessary in the sense of being sequences from natural causes, and will finally be overruled for good: whatever there is of peculiar ill in any period of time will perish; the 'spirit of goodness in things evil' will remain to fructify. But when things are examined from too limited a point of view, which permits the sight of a part only, the question may sometimes arise, 'Is this or that condition a sign of real progress, or is it not rather the reverse?' During the last three or four centuries the European world seems to have made a great advance as respects the individual man. The contrary opinion is indeed held by Southey, Froude, and other writers, and reasons more than plausible may be adduced in support of their views; still, we think that man in his personal capacity is generally and upon the whole better off" than he has ever yet been. Civil freedom is almost universal in Western society. Except by a few writers of extreme priestly views, religious freedom is admitted in theory, and (Spain excepted) pretty generally obtains in practice, for frantic outbreaks by zealots will take place upon almost any subject. Man is more respected simply as man than ever he was of yore. There are fewer legal privileges attached to classes. Those which remain are less invidious and marked. Classes, even nations, are less prejudiced one against another than they were; there is less tendency to condemn in the lump with out knowledge or evidence, though national self-sufficiencies are still quite strong enough. How far a like satisfactory opinion can be formed as regards general political advancement admits of some question, spite of our self-gratulations. It may aid in forming a more definite opinion on this point to take a comparative glance at the past and present political condition of the principal States of the Western world. Every reader of history knows the freedom which the old Spaniards enjoyed, and the large, indeed mischievous, powers which some of the old Spanish Cortes or national assemblies possessed. We say mischievous, as their power is held to have extended to the trial and deposition of the sovereign, not as an extreme and irregular act of necessity, but as a constitutional proceeding; and such a prerogative could scarcely work harmoniously in practical government. The powers of the Cortes, however, were broken by Ferdinand of Arragon; the liberties of Spain were subverted by Charles V. and Philip II.; and history tells the result. Under succeeding monarchs the Spaniard sank into a servile loyalty, which has been changed in our days into a selfish submission, when personal advantages were to be obtained from the Crown, or to an unmanly violence when revolters could coerce the monarch for their own purposes. The Spaniard of the present no more resembles the Spaniard of the past in political or even in religious freedom, than the insignificance of his country now resembles its former greatness, or than the ill-disciplined levies of whom Napier in his History and Wellington in his Despatches give such deplorable accounts, were like the soldiers of the Great Captain,' Gonsalvo di Cordova. The liberties of Italy have been misrepresented (in the primary meaning of the word) by Italian authors, and the error is somewhat blindly received by other peoples. In the palmiest days of Italian prosperity, Naples, Lombardy, the States of the Church, and various petty principalities, were absolute governments, generally torn by anarchy or oppressed by tyranny, as the ruler happened to be weak or strong. The political freedom of Venice never was of a very striking kind, and, except the city itself, her territories were mostly oppressed nationalities. However, her civil rule was just and regular, and a good deal of weak romance has been imported even into history about the Inquisition of State and the Council of Ten. Florence, Genoa, and some other Italian cities were free in the sense of being republics; but they were distracted by factions and divisions, and probably as much misery was inflicted by a 'tyrant majority' as by the princes who ruled despotically. Moreover, the smaller republics were ever liable to be oppressed by the greater whenever the greater were strong enough to compass the oppression. However, there was nationality, if not liberty. Our masters then Were still at least our countrymen. As individuals, the Italians of the present day may be altogether more comfortable than under native government in the olden time; when (as for instance) things were 'very bad in Florence' (circa 1280), ' perché la nobilitá guelfa era diventata insolente, e non temeva i magistrati, in modo che ciascun di si facevano assai omicidj ed altre violenze, senza esser puniti quelli che le commettevano, sendo da questo e quell' altro nobile favoriti.’* It is 1859.] German Contributions towards Progress. even possible that the living Italians might prefer Austrian tyranny' to the anarchical liberty of the long since past, if they could experience each condition and choose between them. Their preference of the present, however, would arise from social training and personal habits rather than from political considerations. As regards national dignity or political independence, the Italians were undoubtedly more advanced centuries ago, than when (as now) enduring the agony of suspense while Imperial chapmen are chaffering over their fate with as little respect for them as for so many 'chattels' of an American slave code. Germany towards the end of the fifteenth century was regarded favourably by one of the keenest of political observers. Machiavelli praised the freedom of the German citizens with an enthusiasm akin to that of Dugald Dalgetty on the Hollander's pay day, unusual with the Florentine philosopher. He pronounces the cities of Germany most free. They have little adjacent territory (contado); they obey the Emperor when they please, and they do not fear any neighbouring power, because they are so fortified that every one thinks their capture would be tedious and difficult; for they are fitly defended by ditches and walls, they are sufficiently armed, and they are munitioned and provisioned for twelve months (per un anno). They have besides means of feeding the working classes (la plebe), and without loss to the public, by employing them for a year on such works as constitute the nerve and life of those cities. Also they hold martial exercises in repute, and more than this, they have regulations to maintain them.' [In both which last points the Italians of that time, as the author frequently complains, were sadly deficient.] This picture exhibits a state of urban power and independence no longer adapted to the condition of the world; nor would the freedom of these cities of medieval Germany, with its public demands upon 'one's time,' and its quasi garrison duty,' be palatable to our ease-and-lucreloving generation. But regard being 6 633 had to time and circumstances, the old Germans enjoyed a general liberty which they are very far from having now. However unsuitable their condition might be to our tastes, it must have produced a bolder, readier, and hardier-minded race of men than their descendants, who are born under regulation, bred and taught by regulation, live according to regulation, and not only die, like all of us, secundum artem, but sometimes through regulation; if it be true, as travellers tell us, that the Germans are regulated into such helplessness that the wounded or suddenly-taken-sick remain in the street unaided till the police arrive, since no one will help them through fear of themselves coming under regulation. We are not sure indeed but that the old German civilization has received scant justice in regard to its influence on social progress in commerce and the fine or useful arts. In taste, imagination, and the gusto grande, the medieval Germans fell below the Italians. In the technical parts and lower branches of art, the Teutons equalled, perhaps excelled, those who were civilly termed, as they still term them, 'barbarians.' Witness oil-painting and wood-engraving. In those inventions, whose results, as it were, are greater than themselves, like gunpowder, printing, and even clock-making, there is no comparison betwen the two peoples. The Germans, we think, may claim the credit of originating the house of the citizen, as opposed to the palace of the noble, or to the hut of the peasant; and if the opinion be true, this invention also goes further than itself, marking the general prosperity of the old German towns, and giving to Germany the credit of producing the urban middle-class: the Yeoman and Franklin are purely English. The origin or improvement of many of the useful arts is also traceable to Germany; and she may rival Italy in foreign commerce and mercantile adventure. Signs of her old political freedom yet remain in her institutions, and the reviving spirit of her people. There is a better prospect for real constitutional liberty in Germany than in any other Continental country (for Piedmont is in the coils); especially if 1 the Germans do not fall flat and shame their worshippers,' through gazing on the nebulæ, instead of regarding the earth. Macte nová virtute. The martial spirit and restless character of the French people, coupled with the central position of France, touching as it does upon nearly all the States of Western Europe, and lying conterminous with several, render her condition a subject of more immediate importance to her neighbours than any mere political speculations, whatever political truths may lurk under them. The favourable opinion which Machiavelli had formed of the cities of Germany, he extends to France as a kingdom. To repeat in another form what has been already intimated, his judgment might not be exactly that of the present time. In those days the well being of the masses was but slightly cared forperhaps it is not now in many countries-individual rights, as opposed to authoritative power of any kind, were of small account; what we call constitutional government was not developed anywhere; indeed, it was not formally established in England till the Revolution of 1688. These things must be borne in mind when estimating an opinion given three centuries and a half ago, because no man can judge but by his own lights. And by these Machiavelli formed a high opinion of the government and institutions of France, pronouncing the latter as extremely well adapted to uphold liberty, and the security of the monarch. The Parliaments, in particular, excited his admiration, perhaps for the political effects he traced in them, of repressing the insolence of the nobility, and protecting the people, without the necessity of bringing the king into adverse contact with his barons. Nè puote essere,' he observes, questo ordine migliore nè piu prudente, nè che sia maggior cagione della sicurtà del re e del regno.' It is needless to say that the infinite costituzioni buone which excited the admiration of the Florentine political philosopher, and which contained, as Burke thought, 'the elements of a constitution very nearly as good as could be wished,' have been swept away, without leaving a wreck behind.* The changes wrought by time, by the long civil and religious wars of France, and by the policy of Richelieu, destroyed the power of the Barons as an estate.' The nation itself, if ever nation can be said to have done anything, abolished at one swoop States-General, Parliaments, gradations and ranks, as well as those local magistracies and corporate bodies which, often evil and perhaps always encumbering in their old age, yet possessed in their worst condition some means of checking or retarding the power of the crown and its administrative officers. Some of this 'root and branch' work was to be expected from a people like the French suddenly arriving at power, * The whole passage may be worth quoting, for Burke's support of the judg ment of Machiavelli, nearly three centuries after it was given, and for his own summary of the leading qualities of constitutional government:- Your constitution was suspended before it was perfected; but you had the elements of a constitution very nearly as good as could be wished. In your old states you possessed that variety of parts corresponding with the various descriptions of which your community was happily composed; you had all that combination and all that opposition of interests, you had that action and counteraction which, in the natural and in the political world, from the reciprocal struggle of discordant powers, draws out the harmony of the universe. These opposed and conflicting" interests, which you considered as so great a blemish in your old and in our present constitution, interpose a salutary check to all precipitate resolutions; they render deliberation a matter not of choice but of necessity; they make all change a subject of compromise, which naturally begets moderation; they produce temperaments, preventing the sore evil of harsh, crude, unqualified reformations; and rendering all the headlong exertions of arbitrary power, in the few or in the many, for ever impracticable. Through that diversity of members and interests, general liberty had as many securities as there were separate views in the several orders; whilst by pressing down the whole by the might of a real monarchy, the separate parts would have been prevented from warping and starting from their allotted places.' -BURKE'S Reflections on the Revolution in France, vol. i. |