A
member of the Parliament of the United Kingdom might have been expected,
we think, to know better what a peer of the United Kingdom is.
member of the Parliament of the United Kingdom might have been expected,
we think, to know better what a peer of the United Kingdom is.
Macaulay
3.
84 and 4.
24
3142 to 3461. . . 3. 65 and 4. 08
Of the census of 1756 we will say nothing, as Mr Sadler, finding himself
hard pressed by the argument which we drew from it, now declares it to
be grossly defective. We confine ourselves to the census of 1784: and we
will draw our lines at points somewhat different from those at which Mr
Sadler has drawn his. Let the first compartment remain as it stands.
Let East Prussia, which contains a much larger population than his last
compartment, stand alone in the second division. Let the third
consist of the New Mark, the Mark of Brandenburg, East Friesland and
Guelderland, and the fourth of the remaining provinces. Our readers
will find that, on this arrangement, the division which, on Mr Sadler's
principle, ought to be second in fecundity stands higher than that which
ought to be first; and that the division which ought to be fourth stands
higher than that which ought to be third. We will give the result in one
view.
The number of births to a marriage is--
In those provinces of Prussia where there are fewer than
1000 people on the square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. 72
In the province in which there are 1175 people on the
square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5. 10
In the provinces in which there are from 1190 to 2083
people on the square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. 10
In the provinces in which there are from 2314 to 3461
people on the square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. 27
We will go no further with this examination. In fact, we have nothing
more to examine. The tables which we have scrutinised constitute the
whole strength of Mr Sadler's case; and we confidently leave it to our
readers to say, whether we have not shown that the strength of his case
is weakness.
Be it remembered too that we are reasoning on data furnished by Mr
Sadler himself. We have not made collections of facts to set against
his, as we easily might have done. It is on his own showing, it is out
of his own mouth, that his theory stands condemned.
That packing which we have exposed is not the only sort of packing which
Mr Sadler has practised. We mentioned in our review some facts relating
to the towns of England, which appear from Mr Sadler's tables, and which
it seems impossible to explain if his principles be sound. The average
fecundity of a marriage in towns of fewer than 3000 inhabitants is
greater than the average fecundity of the kingdom. The average fecundity
in towns of from 4000 to 5000 inhabitants is greater than the average
fecundity of Warwickshire, Lancashire, or Surrey. How is it, we asked,
if Mr Sadler's principle be correct, that the fecundity of Guildford
should be greater than the average fecundity of the county in which it
stands?
Mr Sadler, in reply, talks about "the absurdity of comparing the
fecundity in the small towns alluded to with that in the counties of
Warwick and Stafford, or in those of Lancaster and Surrey. " He proceeds
thus--
"In Warwickshire, far above half the population is comprised in large
towns, including, of course, the immense metropolis of one great branch
of our manufactures, Birmingham. In the county of Stafford, besides
the large and populous towns in its iron districts, situated so close
together as almost to form, for considerable distances, a continuous
street; there is, in its potteries, a great population, recently
accumulated, not included, indeed, in the towns distinctly enumerated in
the censuses, but vastly exceeding in its condensation that found in the
places to which the Reviewer alludes. In Lancashire, again, to which
he also appeals, one-fourth of the entire population is made up of the
inhabitants of two only of the towns of that county; far above half of
it is contained in towns, compared with which those he refers to are
villages: even the hamlets of the manufacturing parts of Lancashire are
often far more populous than the places he mentions. But he presents
us with a climax of absurdity in appealing lastly to the population of
Surrey as quite rural compared with that of the twelve towns having
less than 5000 inhabitants in their respective jurisdictions, such as
Saffron-Walden, Monmouth, etc. Now, in the last census, Surrey numbered
398,658 inhabitants, and to say not a word about the other towns of the
county, much above two hundred thousands of these are WITHIN THE BILLS
OF MORTALITY! 'We should, therefore, be glad to know' how it is utterly
inconsistent with my principle that the fecundity of Guildford, which
numbers about 3000 inhabitants, should be greater than the average
fecundity of Surrey, made up, as the bulk of the population of Surrey
is, of the inhabitants of some of the worst parts of the metropolis? Or
why the fecundity of a given number of marriages in the eleven little
rural towns he alludes to, being somewhat higher than that of an equal
number, half taken, for instance, from the heart of Birmingham or
Manchester, and half from the populous districts by which they are
surrounded, is inconsistent with my theory?
"Had the Reviewer's object, in this instance, been to discover the
truth, or had he known how to pursue it, it is perfectly clear, at
first sight, that he would not have instituted a comparison between the
prolificness which exists in the small towns he has alluded to, and
that in certain districts, the population of which is made up, partly
of rural inhabitants and partly of accumulations of people in immense
masses, the prolificness of which, if he will allow me still the use of
the phrase, is inversely as their magnitude; but he would have compared
these small towns with the country places properly so called, and then
again the different classes of towns with each other; this method would
have led him to certain conclusions on the subject. "
Now, this reply shows that Mr Sadler does not in the least understand
the principle which he has himself laid down. What is that principle?
It is this, that the fecundity of human beings ON GIVEN SPACES, varies
inversely as their numbers. We know what he means by inverse variation.
But we must suppose that he uses the words, "given spaces," in the
proper sense. Given spaces are equal spaces. Is there any reason to
believe, that in those parts of Surrey which lie within the bills
of mortality, there is any space equal in area to the space on which
Guildford stands, which is more thickly peopled than the space on which
Guildford stands? We do not know that there is any such. We are sure
that there are not many. Why, therefore, on Mr Sadler's principle,
should the people of Guildford be more prolific than the people who live
within the bills of mortality? And, if the people of Guildford ought, as
on Mr Sadler's principle they unquestionably ought, to stand as low in
the scale of fecundity as the people of Southwark itself, it follows,
most clearly, that they ought to stand far lower than the average
obtained by taking all the people of Surrey together.
The same remark applies to the case of Birmingham, and to all the other
cases which Mr Sadler mentions. Towns of 5000 inhabitants may be, and
often are, as thickly peopled "on a given space," as Birmingham. They
are, in other words, as thickly peopled as a portion of Birmingham,
equal to them in area. If so, on Mr Sadler's principle, they ought to be
as low in the scale of fecundity as Birmingham. But they are not so. On
the contrary, they stand higher than the average obtained by taking the
fecundity of Birmingham in combination with the fecundity of the rural
districts of Warwickshire.
The plain fact is, that Mr Sadler has confounded the population of a
city with its population "on a given space,"--a mistake which, in a
gentleman who assures us that mathematical science was one of his early
and favourite studies, is somewhat curious. It is as absurd, on his
principle, to say that the fecundity of London ought to be less than
the fecundity of Edinburgh, because London has a greater population than
Edinburgh, as to say that the fecundity of Russia ought to be greater
than that of England, because Russia has a greater population than
England. He cannot say that the spaces on which towns stand are too
small to exemplify the truth of his principle. For he has himself
brought forward the scale of fecundity in towns, as a proof of his
principle. And, in the very passage which we quoted above, he tells us
that, if we knew how to pursue truth or wished to find it, we "should
have compared these small towns with country places, and the different
classes of towns with each other. " That is to say, we ought to compare
together such unequal spaces as give results favourable to his theory,
and never to compare such equal spaces as give results opposed to it.
Does he mean anything by "a given space? " Or does he mean merely such
a space as suits his argument? It is perfectly clear that, if he is
allowed to take this course, he may prove anything. No fact can come
amiss to him. Suppose, for example, that the fecundity of New York
should prove to be smaller than the fecundity of Liverpool. "That," says
Mr Sadler, "makes for my theory. For there are more people within two
miles of the Broadway of New York, than within two miles of the Exchange
of Liverpool. " Suppose, on the other hand, that the fecundity of New
York should be greater than the fecundity of Liverpool. "This," says Mr
Sadler again, "is an unanswerable proof of my theory. For there are many
more people within forty miles of Liverpool than within forty miles
of New York. " In order to obtain his numbers, he takes spaces in any
combinations which may suit him. In order to obtain his averages, he
takes numbers in any combinations which may suit him. And then he tells
us that, because his tables, at the first glance, look well for his
theory, his theory is irrefragably proved.
We will add a few words respecting the argument which we drew from the
peerage. Mr Sadler asserted that the peers were a class condemned by
nature to sterility. We denied this, and showed from the last edition
of Debrett, that the peers of the United Kingdom have considerably more
than the average number of children to a marriage. Mr Sadler's answer
has amused us much. He denies the accuracy of our counting, and, by
reckoning all the Scotch and Irish peers as peers of the United Kingdom,
certainly makes very different numbers from those which we gave.
A
member of the Parliament of the United Kingdom might have been expected,
we think, to know better what a peer of the United Kingdom is.
By taking the Scotch and Irish peers, Mr Sadler has altered the average.
But it is considerably higher than the average fecundity of England,
and still, therefore, constitutes an unanswerable argument against his
theory.
The shifts to which, in this difficulty, he has recourse, are
exceedingly diverting. "The average fecundity of the marriages of
peers," said we, "is higher by one-fifth than the average fecundity of
marriages throughout the kingdom. "
"Where, or by whom did the Reviewer find it supposed," answers Mr
Sadler, "that the registered baptisms expressed the full fecundity of
the marriages of England? "
Assuredly, if the registers of England are so defective as to explain
the difference which, on our calculation, exists between the fecundity
of the peers and the fecundity of the people, no argument against Mr
Sadler's theory can be drawn from that difference. But what becomes
of all the other arguments which Mr Sadler has founded on these very
registers? Above all, what becomes of his comparison between the
censuses of England and France? In the pamphlet before us, he dwells
with great complacency on a coincidence which seems to him to support
his theory, and which to us seems, of itself, sufficient to overthrow
it.
"In my table of the population of France in the forty-four departments
in which there are from one to two hectares to each inhabitant, the
fecundity of 100 marriages, calculated on the average of the results of
the three computations relating to different periods given in my table,
is 406 7/10. In the twenty-two counties of England in which there is
from one to two hectares to each inhabitant, or from 129 to 259 on the
square mile,--beginning, therefore, with Huntingdonshire, and ending
with Worcestershire,--the whole number of marriages during ten years
will be found to amount to 379,624, and the whole number of the births
during the same term to 1,545,549--or 407 1/10 births to 100 marriages!
A difference of one in one thousand only, compared with the French
proportion! "
Does not Mr Sadler see that, if the registers of England, which are
notoriously very defective, give a result exactly corresponding almost
to an unit with that obtained from the registers of France, which are
notoriously very full and accurate, this proves the very reverse of what
he employs it to prove? The correspondence of the registers proves that
there is no correspondence in the facts. In order to raise the average
fecundity of England even to the level of the average fecundity of
the peers of the three kingdoms, which is 3. 81 to a marriage, it is
necessary to add nearly six per cent. to the number of births given in
the English registers. But, if this addition be made, we shall have,
in the counties of England, from Huntingdonshire to Worcestershire
inclusive, 4. 30 births to a marriage or thereabouts: and the boasted
coincidence between the phenomena of propagation in France and
England disappears at once. This is a curious specimen of Mr Sadler's
proficiency in the art of making excuses. In the same pamphlet he
reasons as if the same registers were accurate to one in a thousand, and
as if they were wrong at the very least by one in eighteen.
He tries to show that we have not taken a fair criterion of the
fecundity of the peers. We are not quite sure that we understand his
reasoning on this subject. The order of his observations is more than
usually confused, and the cloud of words more than usually thick. We
will give the argument on which he seems to lay most stress in his own
words:--
"But I shall first notice a far more obvious and important blunder
into which the Reviewer has fallen; or into which, I rather fear, he
knowingly wishes to precipitate his readers, since I have distinctly
pointed out what ought to have preserved him from it in the very chapter
he is criticising and contradicting. It is this:--he has entirely
omitted 'counting' the sterile marriages of all those peerages which
have become extinct during the very period his counting embraces. He
counts, for instance, Earl Fitzwilliam, his marriages, and heir; but has
he not omitted to enumerate the marriages of those branches of the same
noble house, which have become extinct since that venerable individual
possessed his title? He talks of my having appealed merely to the
extinction of peerages in my argument; but, on his plan of computation,
extinctions are perpetually and wholly lost sight of. In computing
the average prolificness of the marriages of the nobles, he positively
counts from a select class of them only, one from which the unprolific
are constantly weeded, and regularly disappear; and he thus comes to the
conclusion, that the peers are 'an eminently prolific class! ' Just
as though a farmer should compute the rate of increase; not from the
quantity of seed sown, but from that part of it only which comes to
perfection, entirely omitting all which had failed to spring up or come
to maturity. Upon this principle the most scanty crop ever obtained, in
which the husbandman should fail to receive 'seed again,' as the phrase
is, might be so 'counted' as to appear 'eminently prolific' indeed. "
If we understand this passage rightly, it decisively proves that Mr
Sadler is incompetent to perform even the lowest offices of statistical
research. What shadow of reason is there to believe that the peers who
were alive in the year 1828 differed as to their prolificness from any
other equally numerous set of peers taken at random? In what sense were
the peers who were alive in 1828 analogous to that part of the seed
which comes to perfection? Did we entirely omit all that failed? On the
contrary, we counted the sterile as well as the fruitful marriages of
all the peers of the United Kingdom living at one time. In what way were
the peers who were alive in 1828 a select class? In what way were the
sterile weeded from among them? Did every peer who had been married
without having issue die in 1827? What shadow of reason is there to
suppose that there was not the ordinary proportion of barren marriages
among the marriages contracted by the noblemen whose names are in
Debrett's last edition? But we ought, says Mr Sadler, to have counted
all the sterile marriages of all the peers "whose titles had become
extinct during the period which our counting embraced;" that is to say,
since the earliest marriage contracted by any peer living in 1828. Was
such a proposition ever heard of before? Surely we were bound to do no
such thing, unless at the same time we had counted also the children
born from all the fruitful marriages contracted by peers during the same
period. Mr Sadler would have us divide the number of children born to
peers living in 1828, not by the number of marriages which those peers
contracted, but by the number of marriages which those peers contracted
added to a crowd of marriages selected, on account of their sterility,
from among the noble marriages which have taken place during the last
fifty years. Is this the way to obtain fair averages? We might as well
require that all the noble marriages which during the last fifty years
have produced ten children apiece should be added to those of the peers
living in 1828. The proper way to ascertain whether a set of people be
prolific or sterile is, not to take marriages selected from the
mass either on account of their fruitfulness or on account of their
sterility, but to take a collection of marriages which there is no
reason to think either more or less fruitful than others. What reason is
there to think that the marriages contracted by the peers who were alive
in 1828 were more fruitful than those contracted by the peers who were
alive in 1800 or in 1750?
We will add another passage from Mr Sadler's pamphlet on this subject.
We attributed the extinction of peerages partly to the fact that those
honours are for the most part limited to heirs male.
"This is a discovery indeed! Peeresses 'eminently prolific,' do not,
as Macbeth conjured his spouse, 'bring forth men-children only;' they
actually produce daughters as well as sons! ! Why, does not the Reviewer
see, that so long as the rule of nature, which proportions the sexes so
accurately to each other, continues to exist, a tendency to a diminution
in one sex proves, as certainly as the demonstration of any mathematical
problem, a tendency to a diminution in both; but to talk of 'eminently
prolific' peeresses, and still maintain that the rapid extinction in
peerages is owing to their not bearing male children exclusively, is
arrant nonsense. "
Now, if there be any proposition on the face of the earth which we
should not have expected to hear characterised as arrant nonsense, it
is this,--that an honour limited to males alone is more likely to
become extinct than an honour which, like the crown of England, descends
indifferently to sons and daughters. We have heard, nay, we actually
know families, in which, much as Mr Sadler may marvel at it, there are
daughters and no sons. Nay, we know many such families. We are as much
inclined as Mr Sadler to trace the benevolent and wise arrangements of
Providence in the physical world, when once we are satisfied as to
the facts on which we proceed. And we have always considered it as
an arrangement deserving of the highest admiration, that, though in
families the number of males and females differs widely, yet in great
collections of human beings the disparity almost disappears. The chance
undoubtedly is, that in a thousand marriages the number of daughters
will not very much exceed the number of sons. But the chance also is,
that several of those marriages will produce daughters, and daughters
only. In every generation of the peerage there are several such cases.
When a peer whose title is limited to male heirs dies, leaving
only daughters, his peerage must expire, unless he have, not only
a collateral heir, but a collateral heir descended through an
uninterrupted line of males from the first possessor of the honour. If
the deceased peer was the first nobleman of his family, then, by the
supposition, his peerage will become extinct. If he was the second, it
will become extinct, unless he leaves a brother or a brother's son. If
the second peer had a brother, the first peer must have had at least two
sons; and this is more than the average number of sons to a marriage in
England. When, therefore, it is considered how many peerages are in the
first and second generation, it will not appear strange that extinctions
should frequently take place. There are peerages which descend to
females as well as males. But, in such cases, if a peer dies, leaving
only daughters, the very fecundity of the marriage is a cause of the
extinction of the peerage. If there were only one daughter, the honour
would descend. If there are several, it falls into abeyance.
But it is needless to multiply words in a case so clear; and, indeed it
is needless to say anything more about Mr Sadler's book. We have, if we
do not deceive ourselves, completely exposed the calculations on which
his theory rests; and we do not think that we should either amuse our
readers or serve the cause of science if we were to rebut in succession
a series of futile charges brought in the most angry spirit against
ourselves; ignorant imputations of ignorance, and unfair complaints of
unfairness,--conveyed in long, dreary, declamations, so prolix that we
cannot find space to quote them, and so confused that we cannot venture
to abridge them.
There is much indeed in this foolish pamphlet to laugh at, from the
motto in the first page down to some wisdom about cows in the last. One
part of it indeed is solemn enough, we mean a certain jeu d'esprit of
Mr Sadler's touching a tract of Dr Arbuthnot's. This is indeed "very
tragical mirth," as Peter Quince's playbill has it; and we would not
advise any person who reads for amusement to venture on it as long as he
can procure a volume of the Statutes at Large. This, however, to do
Mr Sadler justice, is an exception. His witticisms, and his tables of
figures, constitute the only parts of his work which can be perused with
perfect gravity. His blunders are diverting, his excuses exquisitely
comic. But his anger is the most grotesque exhibition that we ever saw.
He foams at the mouth with the love of truth, and vindicates the Divine
benevolence with a most edifying heartiness of hatred. On this subject
we will give him one word of parting advice. If he raves in this way to
ease his mind, or because he thinks that he does himself credit by it,
or from a sense of religious duty, far be it from us to interfere. His
peace, his reputation, and his religion are his own concern; and he,
like the nobleman to whom his treatise is dedicated, has a right to do
what he will with his own. But, if he has adopted his abusive style from
a notion that it would hurt our feelings, we must inform him that he is
altogether mistaken; and that he would do well in future to give us his
arguments, if he has any, and to keep his anger for those who fear it.
*****
MIRABEAU. (July 1832. )
"Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, et sur les deux Premieres
Assemblees Legislatives". Par Etienne Dumont, de Geneve:
ouvrage posthume publie par M. J. L. Duval, Membre du Conseil
Representatif du Canton du Geneve. 8vo. Paris: 1832.
This is a very amusing and a very instructive book: but even if it were
less amusing and less instructive, it would still be interesting as a
relic of a wise and virtuous man. M. Dumont was one of those persons,
the care of whose fame belongs in an especial manner to mankind. For he
was one of those persons who have, for the sake of mankind, neglected
the care of their own fame. In his walk through life there was no
obtrusiveness, no pushing, no elbowing, none of the little arts which
bring forward little men. With every right to the head of the board, he
took the lowest room, and well deserved to be greeted with--Friend, go
up higher. Though no man was more capable of achieving for himself
a separate and independent renown, he attached himself to others; he
laboured to raise their fame; he was content to receive as his share of
the reward the mere overflowings which redounded from the full measure
of their glory. Not that he was of a servile and idolatrous habit of
mind:--not that he was one of the tribe of Boswells,--those literary
Gibeonites, born to be hewers of wood and drawers of water to the higher
intellectual castes. Possessed of talents and acquirements which made
him great, he wished only to be useful. In the prime of manhood, at the
very time of life at which ambitious men are most ambitious, he was not
solicitous to proclaim that he furnished information, arguments, and
eloquence to Mirabeau. In his later years he was perfectly willing that
his renown should merge in that of Mr Bentham.
The services which M. Dumont has rendered to society can be fully
appreciated only by those who have studied Mr Bentham's works, both in
their rude and in their finished state. The difference both for show and
for use is as great as the difference between a lump of golden ore and a
rouleau of sovereigns fresh from the mint. Of Mr Bentham we would at all
times speak with the reverence which is due to a great original
thinker, and to a sincere and ardent friend of the human race. If a
few weaknesses were mingled with his eminent virtues,--if a few
errors insinuated themselves among the many valuable truths which he
taught,--this is assuredly no time for noticing those weaknesses or
those errors in an unkind or sarcastic spirit. A great man has gone from
among us, full of years, of good works, and of deserved honours. In some
of the highest departments in which the human intellect can exert
itself he has not left his equal or his second behind him. From his
contemporaries he has had, according to the usual lot, more or less than
justice. He has had blind flatterers and blind detractors--flatterers
who could see nothing but perfection in his style, detractors who
could see nothing but nonsense in his matter. He will now have judges.
Posterity will pronounce its calm and impartial decision; and that
decision will, we firmly believe, place in the same rank with Galileo,
and with Locke, the man who found jurisprudence a gibberish and left it
a science. Never was there a literary partnership so fortunate as that
of Mr Bentham and M. Dumont. The raw material which Mr Bentham furnished
was most precious; but it was unmarketable. He was, assuredly, at once a
great logician and a great rhetorician. But the effect of his logic was
injured by a vicious arrangement, and the effect of his rhetoric by a
vicious style. His mind was vigorous, comprehensive, subtile, fertile of
arguments, fertile of illustrations. But he spoke in an unknown tongue;
and, that the congregation might be edified, it was necessary that some
brother having the gift of interpretation should expound the invaluable
jargon. His oracles were of high import; but they were traced on
leaves and flung loose to the wind. So negligent was he of the arts of
selection, distribution, and compression, that to persons who formed
their judgment of him from his works in their undigested state he seemed
to be the least systematic of all philosophers. The truth is, that
his opinions formed a system, which, whether sound or unsound, is more
exact, more entire, and more consistent with itself than any other. Yet
to superficial readers of his works in their original form, and indeed
to all readers of those works who did not bring great industry and great
acuteness to the study, he seemed to be a man of a quick and ingenious
but ill-regulated mind,--who saw truth only by glimpses,--who threw
out many striking hints, but who had never thought of combining his
doctrines in one harmonious whole.
M. Dumont was admirably qualified to supply what was wanting in Mr
Bentham. In the qualities in which the French writers surpass those
of all other nations--neatness, clearness, precision, condensation--he
surpassed all French writers. If M. Dumont had never been born, Mr
Bentham would still have been a very great man. But he would have been
great to himself alone. The fertility of his mind would have resembled
the fertility of those vast American wildernesses in which blossoms and
decays a rich but unprofitable vegetation, "wherewith the reaper filleth
not his hand, neither he that bindeth up the sheaves his bosom. " It
would have been with his discoveries as it has been with the "Century
of Inventions. " His speculations on laws would have been of no more
practical use than Lord Worcester's speculations on steam-engines. Some
generations hence, perhaps, when legislation had found its Watt, an
antiquarian might have published to the world the curious fact that, in
the reign of George the Third, there had been a man called Bentham, who
had given hints of many discoveries made since his time, and who had
really, for his age, taken a most philosophical view of the principles
of jurisprudence.
Many persons have attempted to interpret between this powerful mind and
the public. But, in our opinion, M. Dumont alone has succeeded. It is
remarkable that, in foreign countries, where Mr Bentham's works are
known solely through the medium of the French version, his merit is
almost universally acknowledged. Even those who are most decidedly
opposed to his political opinions--the very chiefs of the Holy
Alliance--have publicly testified their respect for him. In England,
on the contrary, many persons who certainly entertained no prejudice
against him on political grounds were long in the habit of mentioning
him contemptuously. Indeed, what was said of Bacon's philosophy may be
said of Bentham's. It was in little repute among us, till judgments in
its favour came from beyond sea, and convinced us, to our shame, that we
had been abusing and laughing at one of the greatest men of the age.
M. Dumont might easily have found employments more gratifying to
personal vanity than that of arranging works not his own. But he could
have found no employment more useful or more truly honourable. The book
before us, hastily written as it is, contains abundant proof, if proof
were needed, that he did not become an editor because he wanted the
talents which would have made him eminent as a writer.
Persons who hold democratical opinions, and who have been accustomed
to consider M. Dumont as one of their party, have been surprised and
mortified to learn that he speaks with very little respect of the
French Revolution and of its authors. Some zealous Tories have naturally
expressed great satisfaction at finding their doctrines, in some
respects, confirmed by the testimony of an unwilling witness. The date
of the work, we think, explains everything. If it had been written ten
years earlier, or twenty years later, it would have been very different
from what it is. It was written, neither during the first excitement
of the Revolution, nor at that later period when the practical good
produced by the Revolution had become manifest to the most prejudiced
observers; but in those wretched times when the enthusiasm had abated,
and the solid advantages were not yet fully seen. It was written in the
year 1799,--a year in which the most sanguine friend of liberty might
well feel some misgivings as to the effects of what the National
Assembly had done. The evils which attend every great change had
been severely felt. The benefit was still to come. The price--a heavy
price--had been paid. The thing purchased had not yet been delivered.
Europe was swarming with French exiles. The fleets and armies of the
second coalition were victorious. Within France, the reign of terror was
over; but the reign of law had not commenced. There had been, indeed,
during three or four years, a written Constitution, by which rights
were defined and checks provided. But these rights had been repeatedly
violated; and those checks had proved utterly inefficient. The laws
which had been framed to secure the distinct authority of the
executive magistrates and of the legislative assemblies--the freedom of
election--the freedom of debate--the freedom of the press--the personal
freedom of citizens--were a dead letter. The ordinary mode in which
the Republic was governed was by coups d'etat. On one occasion, the
legislative councils were placed under military restraint by the
directors. Then, again, directors were deposed by the legislative
councils. Elections were set aside by the executive authority.
Ship-loads of writers and speakers were sent, without a legal trial,
to die of fever in Guiana. France, in short, was in that state in which
revolutions, effected by violence, almost always leave a nation. The
habit of obedience had been lost. The spell of prescription had been
broken. Those associations on which, far more than on any arguments
about property and order, the authority of magistrates rests, had
completely passed away. The power of the government consisted merely in
the physical force which it could bring to its support. Moral force it
had none. It was itself a government sprung from a recent convulsion.
Its own fundamental maxim was, that rebellion might be justifiable. Its
own existence proved that rebellion might be successful. The people
had been accustomed, during several years, to offer resistance to the
constituted authorities on the slightest provocation, and to see the
constituted authorities yield to that resistance. The whole political
world was "without form and void"--an incessant whirl of hostile atoms,
which, every moment, formed some new combination. The only man who could
fix the agitated elements of society in a stable form was following a
wild vision of glory and empire through the Syrian deserts. The time was
not yet come, when
"Confusion heard his voice; and wild uproar
Stood ruled:"
when, out of the chaos into which the old society had been resolved,
were to rise a new dynasty, a new peerage, a new church, and a new code.
The dying words of Madame Roland, "Oh, Liberty! how many crimes are
committed in thy name! " were at that time echoed by many of the
most upright and benevolent of mankind. M. Guizot has, in one of his
admirable pamphlets, happily and justly described M. Laine as "an honest
and liberal man, discouraged by the Revolution. " This description, at
the time when M. Dumont's Memoirs were written, would have applied to
almost every honest and liberal man in Europe; and would, beyond all
doubt, have applied to M. Dumont himself. To that fanatical worship
of the all-wise and all-good people, which had been common a few years
before, had succeeded an uneasy suspicion that the follies and vices
of the people would frustrate all attempts to serve them. The wild and
joyous exaltation, with which the meeting of the States-General and the
fall of the Bastile had been hailed, had passed away. In its place
was dejection, and a gloomy distrust of suspicious appearances. The
philosophers and philanthropists had reigned. And what had their reign
produced? Philosophy had brought with it mummeries as absurd as any
which had been practised by the most superstitious zealot of the darkest
age. Philanthropy had brought with it crimes as horrible as the massacre
of Saint Bartholomew.
3142 to 3461. . . 3. 65 and 4. 08
Of the census of 1756 we will say nothing, as Mr Sadler, finding himself
hard pressed by the argument which we drew from it, now declares it to
be grossly defective. We confine ourselves to the census of 1784: and we
will draw our lines at points somewhat different from those at which Mr
Sadler has drawn his. Let the first compartment remain as it stands.
Let East Prussia, which contains a much larger population than his last
compartment, stand alone in the second division. Let the third
consist of the New Mark, the Mark of Brandenburg, East Friesland and
Guelderland, and the fourth of the remaining provinces. Our readers
will find that, on this arrangement, the division which, on Mr Sadler's
principle, ought to be second in fecundity stands higher than that which
ought to be first; and that the division which ought to be fourth stands
higher than that which ought to be third. We will give the result in one
view.
The number of births to a marriage is--
In those provinces of Prussia where there are fewer than
1000 people on the square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. 72
In the province in which there are 1175 people on the
square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5. 10
In the provinces in which there are from 1190 to 2083
people on the square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. 10
In the provinces in which there are from 2314 to 3461
people on the square league. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. 27
We will go no further with this examination. In fact, we have nothing
more to examine. The tables which we have scrutinised constitute the
whole strength of Mr Sadler's case; and we confidently leave it to our
readers to say, whether we have not shown that the strength of his case
is weakness.
Be it remembered too that we are reasoning on data furnished by Mr
Sadler himself. We have not made collections of facts to set against
his, as we easily might have done. It is on his own showing, it is out
of his own mouth, that his theory stands condemned.
That packing which we have exposed is not the only sort of packing which
Mr Sadler has practised. We mentioned in our review some facts relating
to the towns of England, which appear from Mr Sadler's tables, and which
it seems impossible to explain if his principles be sound. The average
fecundity of a marriage in towns of fewer than 3000 inhabitants is
greater than the average fecundity of the kingdom. The average fecundity
in towns of from 4000 to 5000 inhabitants is greater than the average
fecundity of Warwickshire, Lancashire, or Surrey. How is it, we asked,
if Mr Sadler's principle be correct, that the fecundity of Guildford
should be greater than the average fecundity of the county in which it
stands?
Mr Sadler, in reply, talks about "the absurdity of comparing the
fecundity in the small towns alluded to with that in the counties of
Warwick and Stafford, or in those of Lancaster and Surrey. " He proceeds
thus--
"In Warwickshire, far above half the population is comprised in large
towns, including, of course, the immense metropolis of one great branch
of our manufactures, Birmingham. In the county of Stafford, besides
the large and populous towns in its iron districts, situated so close
together as almost to form, for considerable distances, a continuous
street; there is, in its potteries, a great population, recently
accumulated, not included, indeed, in the towns distinctly enumerated in
the censuses, but vastly exceeding in its condensation that found in the
places to which the Reviewer alludes. In Lancashire, again, to which
he also appeals, one-fourth of the entire population is made up of the
inhabitants of two only of the towns of that county; far above half of
it is contained in towns, compared with which those he refers to are
villages: even the hamlets of the manufacturing parts of Lancashire are
often far more populous than the places he mentions. But he presents
us with a climax of absurdity in appealing lastly to the population of
Surrey as quite rural compared with that of the twelve towns having
less than 5000 inhabitants in their respective jurisdictions, such as
Saffron-Walden, Monmouth, etc. Now, in the last census, Surrey numbered
398,658 inhabitants, and to say not a word about the other towns of the
county, much above two hundred thousands of these are WITHIN THE BILLS
OF MORTALITY! 'We should, therefore, be glad to know' how it is utterly
inconsistent with my principle that the fecundity of Guildford, which
numbers about 3000 inhabitants, should be greater than the average
fecundity of Surrey, made up, as the bulk of the population of Surrey
is, of the inhabitants of some of the worst parts of the metropolis? Or
why the fecundity of a given number of marriages in the eleven little
rural towns he alludes to, being somewhat higher than that of an equal
number, half taken, for instance, from the heart of Birmingham or
Manchester, and half from the populous districts by which they are
surrounded, is inconsistent with my theory?
"Had the Reviewer's object, in this instance, been to discover the
truth, or had he known how to pursue it, it is perfectly clear, at
first sight, that he would not have instituted a comparison between the
prolificness which exists in the small towns he has alluded to, and
that in certain districts, the population of which is made up, partly
of rural inhabitants and partly of accumulations of people in immense
masses, the prolificness of which, if he will allow me still the use of
the phrase, is inversely as their magnitude; but he would have compared
these small towns with the country places properly so called, and then
again the different classes of towns with each other; this method would
have led him to certain conclusions on the subject. "
Now, this reply shows that Mr Sadler does not in the least understand
the principle which he has himself laid down. What is that principle?
It is this, that the fecundity of human beings ON GIVEN SPACES, varies
inversely as their numbers. We know what he means by inverse variation.
But we must suppose that he uses the words, "given spaces," in the
proper sense. Given spaces are equal spaces. Is there any reason to
believe, that in those parts of Surrey which lie within the bills
of mortality, there is any space equal in area to the space on which
Guildford stands, which is more thickly peopled than the space on which
Guildford stands? We do not know that there is any such. We are sure
that there are not many. Why, therefore, on Mr Sadler's principle,
should the people of Guildford be more prolific than the people who live
within the bills of mortality? And, if the people of Guildford ought, as
on Mr Sadler's principle they unquestionably ought, to stand as low in
the scale of fecundity as the people of Southwark itself, it follows,
most clearly, that they ought to stand far lower than the average
obtained by taking all the people of Surrey together.
The same remark applies to the case of Birmingham, and to all the other
cases which Mr Sadler mentions. Towns of 5000 inhabitants may be, and
often are, as thickly peopled "on a given space," as Birmingham. They
are, in other words, as thickly peopled as a portion of Birmingham,
equal to them in area. If so, on Mr Sadler's principle, they ought to be
as low in the scale of fecundity as Birmingham. But they are not so. On
the contrary, they stand higher than the average obtained by taking the
fecundity of Birmingham in combination with the fecundity of the rural
districts of Warwickshire.
The plain fact is, that Mr Sadler has confounded the population of a
city with its population "on a given space,"--a mistake which, in a
gentleman who assures us that mathematical science was one of his early
and favourite studies, is somewhat curious. It is as absurd, on his
principle, to say that the fecundity of London ought to be less than
the fecundity of Edinburgh, because London has a greater population than
Edinburgh, as to say that the fecundity of Russia ought to be greater
than that of England, because Russia has a greater population than
England. He cannot say that the spaces on which towns stand are too
small to exemplify the truth of his principle. For he has himself
brought forward the scale of fecundity in towns, as a proof of his
principle. And, in the very passage which we quoted above, he tells us
that, if we knew how to pursue truth or wished to find it, we "should
have compared these small towns with country places, and the different
classes of towns with each other. " That is to say, we ought to compare
together such unequal spaces as give results favourable to his theory,
and never to compare such equal spaces as give results opposed to it.
Does he mean anything by "a given space? " Or does he mean merely such
a space as suits his argument? It is perfectly clear that, if he is
allowed to take this course, he may prove anything. No fact can come
amiss to him. Suppose, for example, that the fecundity of New York
should prove to be smaller than the fecundity of Liverpool. "That," says
Mr Sadler, "makes for my theory. For there are more people within two
miles of the Broadway of New York, than within two miles of the Exchange
of Liverpool. " Suppose, on the other hand, that the fecundity of New
York should be greater than the fecundity of Liverpool. "This," says Mr
Sadler again, "is an unanswerable proof of my theory. For there are many
more people within forty miles of Liverpool than within forty miles
of New York. " In order to obtain his numbers, he takes spaces in any
combinations which may suit him. In order to obtain his averages, he
takes numbers in any combinations which may suit him. And then he tells
us that, because his tables, at the first glance, look well for his
theory, his theory is irrefragably proved.
We will add a few words respecting the argument which we drew from the
peerage. Mr Sadler asserted that the peers were a class condemned by
nature to sterility. We denied this, and showed from the last edition
of Debrett, that the peers of the United Kingdom have considerably more
than the average number of children to a marriage. Mr Sadler's answer
has amused us much. He denies the accuracy of our counting, and, by
reckoning all the Scotch and Irish peers as peers of the United Kingdom,
certainly makes very different numbers from those which we gave.
A
member of the Parliament of the United Kingdom might have been expected,
we think, to know better what a peer of the United Kingdom is.
By taking the Scotch and Irish peers, Mr Sadler has altered the average.
But it is considerably higher than the average fecundity of England,
and still, therefore, constitutes an unanswerable argument against his
theory.
The shifts to which, in this difficulty, he has recourse, are
exceedingly diverting. "The average fecundity of the marriages of
peers," said we, "is higher by one-fifth than the average fecundity of
marriages throughout the kingdom. "
"Where, or by whom did the Reviewer find it supposed," answers Mr
Sadler, "that the registered baptisms expressed the full fecundity of
the marriages of England? "
Assuredly, if the registers of England are so defective as to explain
the difference which, on our calculation, exists between the fecundity
of the peers and the fecundity of the people, no argument against Mr
Sadler's theory can be drawn from that difference. But what becomes
of all the other arguments which Mr Sadler has founded on these very
registers? Above all, what becomes of his comparison between the
censuses of England and France? In the pamphlet before us, he dwells
with great complacency on a coincidence which seems to him to support
his theory, and which to us seems, of itself, sufficient to overthrow
it.
"In my table of the population of France in the forty-four departments
in which there are from one to two hectares to each inhabitant, the
fecundity of 100 marriages, calculated on the average of the results of
the three computations relating to different periods given in my table,
is 406 7/10. In the twenty-two counties of England in which there is
from one to two hectares to each inhabitant, or from 129 to 259 on the
square mile,--beginning, therefore, with Huntingdonshire, and ending
with Worcestershire,--the whole number of marriages during ten years
will be found to amount to 379,624, and the whole number of the births
during the same term to 1,545,549--or 407 1/10 births to 100 marriages!
A difference of one in one thousand only, compared with the French
proportion! "
Does not Mr Sadler see that, if the registers of England, which are
notoriously very defective, give a result exactly corresponding almost
to an unit with that obtained from the registers of France, which are
notoriously very full and accurate, this proves the very reverse of what
he employs it to prove? The correspondence of the registers proves that
there is no correspondence in the facts. In order to raise the average
fecundity of England even to the level of the average fecundity of
the peers of the three kingdoms, which is 3. 81 to a marriage, it is
necessary to add nearly six per cent. to the number of births given in
the English registers. But, if this addition be made, we shall have,
in the counties of England, from Huntingdonshire to Worcestershire
inclusive, 4. 30 births to a marriage or thereabouts: and the boasted
coincidence between the phenomena of propagation in France and
England disappears at once. This is a curious specimen of Mr Sadler's
proficiency in the art of making excuses. In the same pamphlet he
reasons as if the same registers were accurate to one in a thousand, and
as if they were wrong at the very least by one in eighteen.
He tries to show that we have not taken a fair criterion of the
fecundity of the peers. We are not quite sure that we understand his
reasoning on this subject. The order of his observations is more than
usually confused, and the cloud of words more than usually thick. We
will give the argument on which he seems to lay most stress in his own
words:--
"But I shall first notice a far more obvious and important blunder
into which the Reviewer has fallen; or into which, I rather fear, he
knowingly wishes to precipitate his readers, since I have distinctly
pointed out what ought to have preserved him from it in the very chapter
he is criticising and contradicting. It is this:--he has entirely
omitted 'counting' the sterile marriages of all those peerages which
have become extinct during the very period his counting embraces. He
counts, for instance, Earl Fitzwilliam, his marriages, and heir; but has
he not omitted to enumerate the marriages of those branches of the same
noble house, which have become extinct since that venerable individual
possessed his title? He talks of my having appealed merely to the
extinction of peerages in my argument; but, on his plan of computation,
extinctions are perpetually and wholly lost sight of. In computing
the average prolificness of the marriages of the nobles, he positively
counts from a select class of them only, one from which the unprolific
are constantly weeded, and regularly disappear; and he thus comes to the
conclusion, that the peers are 'an eminently prolific class! ' Just
as though a farmer should compute the rate of increase; not from the
quantity of seed sown, but from that part of it only which comes to
perfection, entirely omitting all which had failed to spring up or come
to maturity. Upon this principle the most scanty crop ever obtained, in
which the husbandman should fail to receive 'seed again,' as the phrase
is, might be so 'counted' as to appear 'eminently prolific' indeed. "
If we understand this passage rightly, it decisively proves that Mr
Sadler is incompetent to perform even the lowest offices of statistical
research. What shadow of reason is there to believe that the peers who
were alive in the year 1828 differed as to their prolificness from any
other equally numerous set of peers taken at random? In what sense were
the peers who were alive in 1828 analogous to that part of the seed
which comes to perfection? Did we entirely omit all that failed? On the
contrary, we counted the sterile as well as the fruitful marriages of
all the peers of the United Kingdom living at one time. In what way were
the peers who were alive in 1828 a select class? In what way were the
sterile weeded from among them? Did every peer who had been married
without having issue die in 1827? What shadow of reason is there to
suppose that there was not the ordinary proportion of barren marriages
among the marriages contracted by the noblemen whose names are in
Debrett's last edition? But we ought, says Mr Sadler, to have counted
all the sterile marriages of all the peers "whose titles had become
extinct during the period which our counting embraced;" that is to say,
since the earliest marriage contracted by any peer living in 1828. Was
such a proposition ever heard of before? Surely we were bound to do no
such thing, unless at the same time we had counted also the children
born from all the fruitful marriages contracted by peers during the same
period. Mr Sadler would have us divide the number of children born to
peers living in 1828, not by the number of marriages which those peers
contracted, but by the number of marriages which those peers contracted
added to a crowd of marriages selected, on account of their sterility,
from among the noble marriages which have taken place during the last
fifty years. Is this the way to obtain fair averages? We might as well
require that all the noble marriages which during the last fifty years
have produced ten children apiece should be added to those of the peers
living in 1828. The proper way to ascertain whether a set of people be
prolific or sterile is, not to take marriages selected from the
mass either on account of their fruitfulness or on account of their
sterility, but to take a collection of marriages which there is no
reason to think either more or less fruitful than others. What reason is
there to think that the marriages contracted by the peers who were alive
in 1828 were more fruitful than those contracted by the peers who were
alive in 1800 or in 1750?
We will add another passage from Mr Sadler's pamphlet on this subject.
We attributed the extinction of peerages partly to the fact that those
honours are for the most part limited to heirs male.
"This is a discovery indeed! Peeresses 'eminently prolific,' do not,
as Macbeth conjured his spouse, 'bring forth men-children only;' they
actually produce daughters as well as sons! ! Why, does not the Reviewer
see, that so long as the rule of nature, which proportions the sexes so
accurately to each other, continues to exist, a tendency to a diminution
in one sex proves, as certainly as the demonstration of any mathematical
problem, a tendency to a diminution in both; but to talk of 'eminently
prolific' peeresses, and still maintain that the rapid extinction in
peerages is owing to their not bearing male children exclusively, is
arrant nonsense. "
Now, if there be any proposition on the face of the earth which we
should not have expected to hear characterised as arrant nonsense, it
is this,--that an honour limited to males alone is more likely to
become extinct than an honour which, like the crown of England, descends
indifferently to sons and daughters. We have heard, nay, we actually
know families, in which, much as Mr Sadler may marvel at it, there are
daughters and no sons. Nay, we know many such families. We are as much
inclined as Mr Sadler to trace the benevolent and wise arrangements of
Providence in the physical world, when once we are satisfied as to
the facts on which we proceed. And we have always considered it as
an arrangement deserving of the highest admiration, that, though in
families the number of males and females differs widely, yet in great
collections of human beings the disparity almost disappears. The chance
undoubtedly is, that in a thousand marriages the number of daughters
will not very much exceed the number of sons. But the chance also is,
that several of those marriages will produce daughters, and daughters
only. In every generation of the peerage there are several such cases.
When a peer whose title is limited to male heirs dies, leaving
only daughters, his peerage must expire, unless he have, not only
a collateral heir, but a collateral heir descended through an
uninterrupted line of males from the first possessor of the honour. If
the deceased peer was the first nobleman of his family, then, by the
supposition, his peerage will become extinct. If he was the second, it
will become extinct, unless he leaves a brother or a brother's son. If
the second peer had a brother, the first peer must have had at least two
sons; and this is more than the average number of sons to a marriage in
England. When, therefore, it is considered how many peerages are in the
first and second generation, it will not appear strange that extinctions
should frequently take place. There are peerages which descend to
females as well as males. But, in such cases, if a peer dies, leaving
only daughters, the very fecundity of the marriage is a cause of the
extinction of the peerage. If there were only one daughter, the honour
would descend. If there are several, it falls into abeyance.
But it is needless to multiply words in a case so clear; and, indeed it
is needless to say anything more about Mr Sadler's book. We have, if we
do not deceive ourselves, completely exposed the calculations on which
his theory rests; and we do not think that we should either amuse our
readers or serve the cause of science if we were to rebut in succession
a series of futile charges brought in the most angry spirit against
ourselves; ignorant imputations of ignorance, and unfair complaints of
unfairness,--conveyed in long, dreary, declamations, so prolix that we
cannot find space to quote them, and so confused that we cannot venture
to abridge them.
There is much indeed in this foolish pamphlet to laugh at, from the
motto in the first page down to some wisdom about cows in the last. One
part of it indeed is solemn enough, we mean a certain jeu d'esprit of
Mr Sadler's touching a tract of Dr Arbuthnot's. This is indeed "very
tragical mirth," as Peter Quince's playbill has it; and we would not
advise any person who reads for amusement to venture on it as long as he
can procure a volume of the Statutes at Large. This, however, to do
Mr Sadler justice, is an exception. His witticisms, and his tables of
figures, constitute the only parts of his work which can be perused with
perfect gravity. His blunders are diverting, his excuses exquisitely
comic. But his anger is the most grotesque exhibition that we ever saw.
He foams at the mouth with the love of truth, and vindicates the Divine
benevolence with a most edifying heartiness of hatred. On this subject
we will give him one word of parting advice. If he raves in this way to
ease his mind, or because he thinks that he does himself credit by it,
or from a sense of religious duty, far be it from us to interfere. His
peace, his reputation, and his religion are his own concern; and he,
like the nobleman to whom his treatise is dedicated, has a right to do
what he will with his own. But, if he has adopted his abusive style from
a notion that it would hurt our feelings, we must inform him that he is
altogether mistaken; and that he would do well in future to give us his
arguments, if he has any, and to keep his anger for those who fear it.
*****
MIRABEAU. (July 1832. )
"Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, et sur les deux Premieres
Assemblees Legislatives". Par Etienne Dumont, de Geneve:
ouvrage posthume publie par M. J. L. Duval, Membre du Conseil
Representatif du Canton du Geneve. 8vo. Paris: 1832.
This is a very amusing and a very instructive book: but even if it were
less amusing and less instructive, it would still be interesting as a
relic of a wise and virtuous man. M. Dumont was one of those persons,
the care of whose fame belongs in an especial manner to mankind. For he
was one of those persons who have, for the sake of mankind, neglected
the care of their own fame. In his walk through life there was no
obtrusiveness, no pushing, no elbowing, none of the little arts which
bring forward little men. With every right to the head of the board, he
took the lowest room, and well deserved to be greeted with--Friend, go
up higher. Though no man was more capable of achieving for himself
a separate and independent renown, he attached himself to others; he
laboured to raise their fame; he was content to receive as his share of
the reward the mere overflowings which redounded from the full measure
of their glory. Not that he was of a servile and idolatrous habit of
mind:--not that he was one of the tribe of Boswells,--those literary
Gibeonites, born to be hewers of wood and drawers of water to the higher
intellectual castes. Possessed of talents and acquirements which made
him great, he wished only to be useful. In the prime of manhood, at the
very time of life at which ambitious men are most ambitious, he was not
solicitous to proclaim that he furnished information, arguments, and
eloquence to Mirabeau. In his later years he was perfectly willing that
his renown should merge in that of Mr Bentham.
The services which M. Dumont has rendered to society can be fully
appreciated only by those who have studied Mr Bentham's works, both in
their rude and in their finished state. The difference both for show and
for use is as great as the difference between a lump of golden ore and a
rouleau of sovereigns fresh from the mint. Of Mr Bentham we would at all
times speak with the reverence which is due to a great original
thinker, and to a sincere and ardent friend of the human race. If a
few weaknesses were mingled with his eminent virtues,--if a few
errors insinuated themselves among the many valuable truths which he
taught,--this is assuredly no time for noticing those weaknesses or
those errors in an unkind or sarcastic spirit. A great man has gone from
among us, full of years, of good works, and of deserved honours. In some
of the highest departments in which the human intellect can exert
itself he has not left his equal or his second behind him. From his
contemporaries he has had, according to the usual lot, more or less than
justice. He has had blind flatterers and blind detractors--flatterers
who could see nothing but perfection in his style, detractors who
could see nothing but nonsense in his matter. He will now have judges.
Posterity will pronounce its calm and impartial decision; and that
decision will, we firmly believe, place in the same rank with Galileo,
and with Locke, the man who found jurisprudence a gibberish and left it
a science. Never was there a literary partnership so fortunate as that
of Mr Bentham and M. Dumont. The raw material which Mr Bentham furnished
was most precious; but it was unmarketable. He was, assuredly, at once a
great logician and a great rhetorician. But the effect of his logic was
injured by a vicious arrangement, and the effect of his rhetoric by a
vicious style. His mind was vigorous, comprehensive, subtile, fertile of
arguments, fertile of illustrations. But he spoke in an unknown tongue;
and, that the congregation might be edified, it was necessary that some
brother having the gift of interpretation should expound the invaluable
jargon. His oracles were of high import; but they were traced on
leaves and flung loose to the wind. So negligent was he of the arts of
selection, distribution, and compression, that to persons who formed
their judgment of him from his works in their undigested state he seemed
to be the least systematic of all philosophers. The truth is, that
his opinions formed a system, which, whether sound or unsound, is more
exact, more entire, and more consistent with itself than any other. Yet
to superficial readers of his works in their original form, and indeed
to all readers of those works who did not bring great industry and great
acuteness to the study, he seemed to be a man of a quick and ingenious
but ill-regulated mind,--who saw truth only by glimpses,--who threw
out many striking hints, but who had never thought of combining his
doctrines in one harmonious whole.
M. Dumont was admirably qualified to supply what was wanting in Mr
Bentham. In the qualities in which the French writers surpass those
of all other nations--neatness, clearness, precision, condensation--he
surpassed all French writers. If M. Dumont had never been born, Mr
Bentham would still have been a very great man. But he would have been
great to himself alone. The fertility of his mind would have resembled
the fertility of those vast American wildernesses in which blossoms and
decays a rich but unprofitable vegetation, "wherewith the reaper filleth
not his hand, neither he that bindeth up the sheaves his bosom. " It
would have been with his discoveries as it has been with the "Century
of Inventions. " His speculations on laws would have been of no more
practical use than Lord Worcester's speculations on steam-engines. Some
generations hence, perhaps, when legislation had found its Watt, an
antiquarian might have published to the world the curious fact that, in
the reign of George the Third, there had been a man called Bentham, who
had given hints of many discoveries made since his time, and who had
really, for his age, taken a most philosophical view of the principles
of jurisprudence.
Many persons have attempted to interpret between this powerful mind and
the public. But, in our opinion, M. Dumont alone has succeeded. It is
remarkable that, in foreign countries, where Mr Bentham's works are
known solely through the medium of the French version, his merit is
almost universally acknowledged. Even those who are most decidedly
opposed to his political opinions--the very chiefs of the Holy
Alliance--have publicly testified their respect for him. In England,
on the contrary, many persons who certainly entertained no prejudice
against him on political grounds were long in the habit of mentioning
him contemptuously. Indeed, what was said of Bacon's philosophy may be
said of Bentham's. It was in little repute among us, till judgments in
its favour came from beyond sea, and convinced us, to our shame, that we
had been abusing and laughing at one of the greatest men of the age.
M. Dumont might easily have found employments more gratifying to
personal vanity than that of arranging works not his own. But he could
have found no employment more useful or more truly honourable. The book
before us, hastily written as it is, contains abundant proof, if proof
were needed, that he did not become an editor because he wanted the
talents which would have made him eminent as a writer.
Persons who hold democratical opinions, and who have been accustomed
to consider M. Dumont as one of their party, have been surprised and
mortified to learn that he speaks with very little respect of the
French Revolution and of its authors. Some zealous Tories have naturally
expressed great satisfaction at finding their doctrines, in some
respects, confirmed by the testimony of an unwilling witness. The date
of the work, we think, explains everything. If it had been written ten
years earlier, or twenty years later, it would have been very different
from what it is. It was written, neither during the first excitement
of the Revolution, nor at that later period when the practical good
produced by the Revolution had become manifest to the most prejudiced
observers; but in those wretched times when the enthusiasm had abated,
and the solid advantages were not yet fully seen. It was written in the
year 1799,--a year in which the most sanguine friend of liberty might
well feel some misgivings as to the effects of what the National
Assembly had done. The evils which attend every great change had
been severely felt. The benefit was still to come. The price--a heavy
price--had been paid. The thing purchased had not yet been delivered.
Europe was swarming with French exiles. The fleets and armies of the
second coalition were victorious. Within France, the reign of terror was
over; but the reign of law had not commenced. There had been, indeed,
during three or four years, a written Constitution, by which rights
were defined and checks provided. But these rights had been repeatedly
violated; and those checks had proved utterly inefficient. The laws
which had been framed to secure the distinct authority of the
executive magistrates and of the legislative assemblies--the freedom of
election--the freedom of debate--the freedom of the press--the personal
freedom of citizens--were a dead letter. The ordinary mode in which
the Republic was governed was by coups d'etat. On one occasion, the
legislative councils were placed under military restraint by the
directors. Then, again, directors were deposed by the legislative
councils. Elections were set aside by the executive authority.
Ship-loads of writers and speakers were sent, without a legal trial,
to die of fever in Guiana. France, in short, was in that state in which
revolutions, effected by violence, almost always leave a nation. The
habit of obedience had been lost. The spell of prescription had been
broken. Those associations on which, far more than on any arguments
about property and order, the authority of magistrates rests, had
completely passed away. The power of the government consisted merely in
the physical force which it could bring to its support. Moral force it
had none. It was itself a government sprung from a recent convulsion.
Its own fundamental maxim was, that rebellion might be justifiable. Its
own existence proved that rebellion might be successful. The people
had been accustomed, during several years, to offer resistance to the
constituted authorities on the slightest provocation, and to see the
constituted authorities yield to that resistance. The whole political
world was "without form and void"--an incessant whirl of hostile atoms,
which, every moment, formed some new combination. The only man who could
fix the agitated elements of society in a stable form was following a
wild vision of glory and empire through the Syrian deserts. The time was
not yet come, when
"Confusion heard his voice; and wild uproar
Stood ruled:"
when, out of the chaos into which the old society had been resolved,
were to rise a new dynasty, a new peerage, a new church, and a new code.
The dying words of Madame Roland, "Oh, Liberty! how many crimes are
committed in thy name! " were at that time echoed by many of the
most upright and benevolent of mankind. M. Guizot has, in one of his
admirable pamphlets, happily and justly described M. Laine as "an honest
and liberal man, discouraged by the Revolution. " This description, at
the time when M. Dumont's Memoirs were written, would have applied to
almost every honest and liberal man in Europe; and would, beyond all
doubt, have applied to M. Dumont himself. To that fanatical worship
of the all-wise and all-good people, which had been common a few years
before, had succeeded an uneasy suspicion that the follies and vices
of the people would frustrate all attempts to serve them. The wild and
joyous exaltation, with which the meeting of the States-General and the
fall of the Bastile had been hailed, had passed away. In its place
was dejection, and a gloomy distrust of suspicious appearances. The
philosophers and philanthropists had reigned. And what had their reign
produced? Philosophy had brought with it mummeries as absurd as any
which had been practised by the most superstitious zealot of the darkest
age. Philanthropy had brought with it crimes as horrible as the massacre
of Saint Bartholomew.
