Historical treatises: The political consequences of the reformation. The rise, progress, and practical influence of political theories. The rise and growth of the continental interests of Great Britain

Preface

THE three Treatises contained in this volume, form, together with a Life of the Author, the first volume of the Historical Works of Professor Heeren, published at Gottingen, in the year 1821. The Life has been omitted from this translation, as belonging rather to a complete edition of an author's writings, than to such a selection as the present ; and the order in which the treatises stand in the original, has, from motives of convenience, been changed : but in other respects, the form of the volume above mentioned has been pursued. The whole of it however, has not been translated by the same hand, and it is feared that some difference of style may, on that account, be observable in different parts of the work. Owing to the same circumstances also, considerable delay has occurred between the printing of the first two treatises, and of the third : to which must be attributed any incongruity which may exist between the dates mentioned in the notes of the Translator of the two former, and the date of the title-page. It is hoped, however, that, notwithstanding these circumstances, this volume will not detract from the high reputation, which previous translations from his works have deservedly acquired for Professor Heeren in this country.

OXFORD, Sept. 1836.

TO THE READER.

THE following treatise was written in answer to a question proposed by the National Institute of France, as the subject of a prize essay for July 1803 — viz. " What has been the influence of the Reformation on the political position of the different states of Europe, and upon the diffusion of knowledge3? This question, in itself so interesting, attracted my attention the more because the whole course of my studies have been directed towards it. I resolved therefore to attempt an answer to it ; but when I had nearly finished the first part, which regards the political consequences of the Reformation, I learned from my late friend Von Villers that I should have him for a competitor. Upon this I withdrew myself, and his essay, which proved the successful one, and of which several editions have been published, is universally known. In the mean time I comrnitted my work to the press, even before the day appointed for sending in the essays, but confined it to the political part of the question. The sheets were forwarded as soon as printed to my friend, and he has himself remarked in his preface, that he made use of a Quelle a £t£ 1'influence de la reformation sur la situation politique des differens Etats de 1'Europe, et sur le progres des lumidres ?

B2 iv TO THE READER.

them in working out this portion of his subject. Any service which I may thus have rendered him, he amply repaid me four years after by undertaking the translation of my essay upon the Infliience of the Crusades, which then obtained the prize at Paris. I have thought it right to preface these remarks ; partly, in order to show the relation in which my essay stands to that of my late friend ; partly, to excuse the style of the treatise, which could not from the circumstances assume the character of a scholastical and learned dissertation.

It does not pretend to afford the learned historian anything new in the detail, but aims at presenting a variety and abundance of general views, which appear to me to be far from superfluous, inasmuch as a clearer light may thus perhaps be thrown upon the history of modern Europe.

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AN ENQUIRY INTO

THE POLITICAL CONSEQUENCES

OF THE REFORMATION.

THE great political changes by which the destinies of mankind are permanently affected, and which we are accustomed to call by the general name of revolutions, may be divided, as regards their origin, into two classes. The first includes those which are the work of single individuals, the slaves of passion, who have devoted their lives to conquest, and founded their greatness upon the ruins of the states which fortune has enabled them to overthrow. These may be termed purely warlike revolutions, as they assume that character from the first, and war is their immediate aim.

Such were the exploits of Cyrus and of Timur, and of many other celebrated heroes, who, though at the head of civilised nations, have made conquest at once the first and last object of their career. Phenomena of this class may be highly interesting from their results, but in their origin they are less so, as they usually flow from one source, and that for the most part an unhallowed one — ambition.

The second class is of a very different character, and may be best expressed under the joint name of moral and political, as its foundation is laid in the moral nature of man. Under this we range those revolutions which have been prepared by popular ideas, slowly spread, but finally become prevalent ; and wrhich by the direct contrast in which they stood to the existing order of things, could not but cause violent struggles and great changes in their passage from theory into practice. Like the stream which loses itself in the earth but a short way from its source, as if to accumulate its strength in secret, and breaks forth again a great river, these revolutions arise at moments when they are least thought of, and exhibit signs of strength which the most accurate observer could not have foreseen. These differ therefore from the former by being in the highest degree interesting, as well in their origin as in their consequences. Their general characteristic is that they are prepared long beforehand, and by a process which can hardly ever be discerned. — They thus afford the practised observer abundant employment from the very first ; as it is not easy to discover their true origin, even though the immediate cause of their breaking out should be evident to the eye. They differ from the former also in this, that they seldom arise from one, but usually from many and different sources, and these, becoming united, form a torrent which finally bursts through every bulwark, and sweeps away whatever attempts to stem its course.

In order that ideas should become generally adopted and effective, they must be such as can be readily appreciated by the great mass of the people, and of sufficient interest to induce action as well as belief. Religion and politics are the only topics of this nature. Knowledge in its more difficult branches must always be confined to a limited number; nor do we ever read of wars caused between different nations by different systems of philosophy, although it may have chanced that some particular doctrines, by passing into popular opinions, have exercised an influence over their dealings with each other. On the other hand the ideas of God and of our country are too deeply interwoven with our moral nature to allow of their being entertained merely as objects of reason, and not of the affections also. In fact, the less defined they are, the greater influence do they appear to exercise ; and hence it is that they possess the power of acting like electricity, even upon the most informed minds, and impart energies to them which assume with ease the character of enthusiasm, or even fanaticism.

Religious notions, it is true, do not seem to have a very near connection with political, but, even if the union of the state with its acknowledged forms of worship were less strict, these could seldom be overthrown without entailing the fall of more than can be originally foreseen.

Who shall define the channel of the torrent which has burst its bed, or who set limits to the earthquake ?

But however awful these shocks may be, it is by them more especially that the fortunes of our race are determined. — The moral, like the physical world, owes its purification and its maintenance to the storms which sweep over it.— But centuries and their generations must pass away before the operation of them is so fully developed as to allow the dim eye of human intelligence to embrace and give judgment upon the full extent of their results. And when this time at length arrives, when the enquirer at last may fairly enter upon his task, what occasion could he select, on which it would be more becoming to feel diffident of his own powers, and to bear continually in mind that his horizon is at best but of scanty extent, and that to review the unlimited universe of the history of man belongs only to a Being himself illimitable ?

Since the fall of the Roman empire made way for the erection of the states of modern Europe, this portion of the world has witnessed three revolutions such as we have described. The deep degradation of its inhabitants during the middle ages is chiefly attributable to the want for many centuries, of an impulse which might call the minds of men, and not merely their bodies, into activity. Hence that overwhelming barbarism which in the tenth and eleventh centuries threatened to extinguish the last gleams of civilisation, till at the close of the latter the Crusades were set on foot,, and awakened the decaying spirit of mankind from the slumber which threatened to be its last. These expeditions, although fruitless in their immediate event, laid the foundation of a new order of things in Europe. Owing to them the peasantry was freed, although neither quickly nor universally, from the bondage of the feudal law ; and while the young Muse of the Knighthood was gathering boldness to utter its conceits in castle and hall, they gradually, by the commerce which they brought to Europe, were the means of establishing in her towns that class of free citizens, on whose prosperity the future fate of nations was to depend.

After a lapse of four centuries Europe sustained a second and still greater change in the Reformation. And as this agreed with the former in the point of their common and immediate origin from religion, although both were undoubtedly of great political importance, it was reserved for our own age to witness a third species of revolution, which, springing immediately from political ideas, obtained an immediate political tendency ; and which, when its results are fully developed, will perhaps furnish the historian of future times with even richer materials than either of those which have preceded it.

The National Institute, in requiring a development of the consequences which resulted to the political progress and general illumination of Europe from the Reformation, has chosen a subject worthy of itself. It is a proposition which has never been satisfactorily answered, but which is now ripe for discussion. — Near three centuries have elapsed since that mighty change began to operate ; its consequences have developed themselves in all their principal features ; the clouds of prejudice and passion, which at first float over an age of great revolutions, and deny a clear view to the observer of the time, have now been long dispersed ; and the historian must be content that his own feeble vision should bear the blame, if it cannot embrace the wide prospect before him.

The present enquiry is not directed to the consequences of the Reformation, as it affected the intelligence and civilisation of mankind — this subject is left to others. We shall simply investigate the political results of that event as they affected Europe — and these ^we shall clas under two heads : the 1st. comprising the changes in particular states. The 2nd. those which were wrought in the social and political system of Europe.

In an undertaking of this sort it is evident that the author must be prepared to lay aside the prejudices which his education, his country, and his religion, throw in his way — that he must resolve moreover not to sacrifice the truth, although known and acknowledged, to the brilliancy which invests what is new and paradoxical.— These I say are necessary and evident conditions. — It is only as to the sense in which the term " Consequences of the Reformation"

may be fairly used that any observation need be made. On this, however, the full attention of the reader is required, as it must necessarily determine the main features of our enquiry.

The consequences of every event are partly immediate, partly mediate.

The character of immediate consequences is that they must result of themselves from the very nature of a given event, and therefore be of the same stamp with it. The immediate consequences of a religious revolution can be concerned only with religion ; and therefore as regards the revolution we are here speaking of, they include nothingbutthe changes in doctrine or worship of particular portions of the Christian Church.

The mediate consequences of an event differ from the former in not flowing from the essence of that event, but in being produced by accidental relations, connections, and changes of circumstance, in such a way however, as that without the existence of that event they would not themselves have existed.

It is at once evident that the sphere of the immediate consequences of every event must be comparatively much smaller than that of the mediate. But on this account a view which should be confined only to the former would be very partial — and although it may be urged that the chain of mediate consequences is endless, and therefore incomprehensible by the eye, since each operation gives an impulse to another and a new one — we must remember that the imperfection of our nature imposes a limit, and by subjecting us to the thraldom of time, restrains our view to that which is already determined.

Moreover we have a standard of easy application by which the degress of distance may be judged. Are all the circles which we form by throwing a stone into the water to be held uncertainly defined because those on the verge gradually escape the eye ?

The influence of the Reformation on the politics and intelligence of Europe belongs to the class of mediate consequences, and the National Institute by proposing such a question has shown the extent over which it is intended that our enquiries should spread. It could not escape the proposers of the question that its chief interest lay in this very point — that on this very account it must needs be a proposition, the answer to which would bring a special ray of hope to the age in which we live. The distant results of every great revolution have deceived the expectations of the actors ; and there is perhaps no higher gratification to the historian than to follow out the wonderful perplexities of the thread of events on which the fortunes of our kind depend. Submitting to its guidance he wanders on as in a labyrinth, which, amidst rocks and precipices, often opens to his view a landscape of surpassing beauty ; and wrapped in wonder he catches amid the storm of ages the voice of Him who tells us, " that His ways are not our ways !"

Lift up your eyes then ye whom in your turn Fate has appointed to be the witnesses, the actors, the victims, of a Revolution ! Ye who have lost a father, a brother, a friend, alas ! perhaps your all ! On the funeral piles of the Inquisition, on the battle-fields of Miihlberg, of Nordlingen andLiitzen, innocent blood flowed as freely as our own age has seen it flow ! and yet the clouds at length dispersed, and the day-star shone down upon a peaceful and a better world. The horizon clears up now faster than then, and perhaps we ourselves may yet witness those better times which it was in that case the lot only of later generations to enjoy.

Although the original tendency of the Reformation was very far from political, the intimate connection, which, in those days subsisted between Church and State rendered it unavoidable, that, as its influence widened, such a tendency should rapidly be acquired. It is true that at the commencement of the sixteenth century those relations were no longer in their full force, which during the preceding period had knit the whole of Western Europe as it were into one empire, composed of a number of princes whom the pope either held or claimed to hold, as vassals to the spiritual supremacy of his office. The temporal authority which had been established by Gregory the seventh was already broken down, not only by the disobedience and boldness of many of these spiritual sons of the church, but, and that perhaps in a still greater degree, by the errors of the Roman see itself. A schism of seventy years (1378 — 1449) at one period of which two popes, at another three, were busied in excommunicating each other, had rendered the Christian world disaffected, and had caused the assemblage of those general councils which asserted the fatal doctrine of their authority even over the head of the Church. But notwithstanding this, Church and State were far too closely interwoven throughout the Christian world, to allow of any change being wrought in the former which should not recoil on the latter. Although continual opposition was made to the claims of the pope to be recognised as arbitrator in secular matters, still by the spiritual jurisdiction of his office, and in several other ways, he exercised many most important rights, without denying which a Reformation could hardly even be imagined. As soon therefore as a measure of this kind was set afoot and began its necessary interference, the princes could not remain unmoved— neutrality was out of the question— and they were compelled to declare themselves either for or against it. In the latter case they set themselves in opposition to a party within their own dominions to which oppression would unavoidably give a political character ; in the former they became the direct adversaries of the pope, and in this as in the other, the political tendency of the Reformation was soon decided.

The moment at which it assumed this form necessarily doubled its importance. When the Reformation broke out there was no longer any great moral interest which could influence politics and breathe into them a spirit of life. Italy it is true had been taught a more refined policy by the necessity of maintaining the balance among her states, and this had spread even beyond the Alps, but under the hands of Ferdinand the Catholic it had assumed the form of mere systematical deceit. The influence which the nations of Europe had up to that time exercised by their representatives, upon their own affairs, began either to disappear entirely, or to become weak and unimportant. What shall we say of the Spanish Cortes under Ferdinand and Isabella, and still more under their successors ? What of the English Parliament under Henry the eighth ? What of the assembly of the States-general in France under Lewis the twelfth ? All the threads of political power were in the hands of some few potentates who only abused their trust by spinning them into a web of wretched intrigue for the gratification of their own passions. — Whoever wishes for a proof of this, need only glance into the history of what passed in Italy at that time ; and especially at the senseless league of Cambray and its romantic consequences.

The nations of Europe looked on unmoved while this game of vice and folly was played at their expense ; and this apathy was seasonably timed for their own more easy subjection to despotism, as it accorded with the encreased means of tyranny which the treasures of the new world, then first discovered, put at the disposal of their masters.

In order to awaken Europe from this moral slumber, there was wanted a new and mighty interest which should exercise a common influence over both people and princes ; and in contemplating which the meaner spirit of cabal, till then most honoured, should be forgotten. Such an interest, both as to novelty and greatness, the Reformation created ; and we thus obtain the proper point of view from which to estimate its political importance. Instead of the vulgar impulses of selfishness, Religion became the mainspring of politics ; and we soon find hardly any political interest which was not more or less a religious interest, hardly any political party which was not more or less a religious one, nay hardly any war which was not in a greater or less degree a war of religion. It matters not how far philosophers may hold the doctrines for which men struggled to be right or wrong — the destinies of mankind depended upon their acquiring an interest in what was great and exalted ; and that religion is in practical effect both great and exalted, even the atheist who scorns it in theory, must confess. It may be that with the new interest which was here awakened, a host of prejudices and passions, which in partial instances led to error, was awakened also. — But this hindered not the progress of the whole !

To require that the human race should advance without interruption to its more perfect state, by the path which reason points out, is to mistake our nature, and to forget that we are not creatures of pure reason, but of reason mixed and alloyed with passion. It is difficult for individual man to tread that path, but for the crowd, which only approaches its object by circuitous ways, it is impossible.

FIRST PART.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE POLITICAL INFLUENCE OF THE REFORMATION UPON THE INTERNAL RELA- TIONS OF THE DIFFERENT STATES OF EUROPE.

GERMANY.

IT was natural that the state in which the Reformation commenced should be the first to feel its consequences; but besides this, the internal condition of Germany was such as to make these consequences more violent here than elsewhere. The adherence of several of its princes to the Reformed doctrines facilitated the organisation of a powerful party, which watched over their infancy, and prevented them from being crushed or set aside, in a manner which would have been impossible in any country less divided within itself. It is well known that the elector, Frederic the Wise of Saxony, the ruler of the state in which Luther came forward, was the first who did the Reformation this service, although he was soon followed by others. It was thus at once made an affair of state ; and by being soon after formally and openly treated as such, and brought, in 1521, before the diet of Worms for decision, it became so highly important in a political point

POLITICAL CONSEQUENCES, ETC. 19

of view, that its very condemnation could only serve to make it still more so.

At the time of Luther's appearance Germany, as a state, was little more than a cipher in the political system of Europe. Full of strength within, it was yet unable to apply its power. — Its constitution, formed upon prescription, was scarcely better than a chaos. Even though the Golden Bull (1356) had sufficiently determined the relations between the head of the empire and the chief of its princes, who could say what the mutual rights of the emperor and the remaining states truly were ? The degree of authority which he should possess was thus commonly dependent upon the character and personal power of the emperor. Under the long reign of Frederic III., who slumbered away above half a century upon the throne, (1440 — 1492,) this authority was nearly annihilated ; and under that of Maximilian L, notwithstanding the new institutions, it was, as regarded its own interests, but little augmented.

On the other hand, there was not one of the remaining princes of Germany whose power was sufficient to command respect. They lived more like patriarchs than princes ; the ruler of a country appeared to be little more than the chief proprietor in it. Moreover, there was scarcely a prospect that any house would be able to raise itself to sudden eminence. The undivided transmission of property was observed only in the electoral states : in the others, according to

c 2 custom, the lands of the father were divided among his sons; and, as their marriages were often blessed with even too rich an abundance, it was difficult for a single family to amass any great and secure possessions in land. This weakness of individuals necessarily rendered the power of the whole body inconsiderable. It is true the princes met at the diets to discuss their common interests; but Frederick III. had not even been at the trouble of once attending these meetings in person ; and his son, whose numerous projects required proportionate funds, came, for the most part, only to harass the states for supplies. In fact, if the impetuous advance of the hereditary foes of Christendom, who had for fifty years been securely settled in the east of Europe, had not frequently compelled the Germans to make common cause against them, there seems to be no reason why the bands of the empire should not have been wholly dissolved.

It was the Reformation, and the Reformation alone, which suddenly breathed new life into this decaying body, and gave it the political importance which it has since possessed. Many of the German princes soon declared in its favour, (whether from conviction or on other grounds it matters not) ; while, on the other hand, the the new sovereign of the empire found it in accordance with his interests to condemn it. Charles V. soon discovered that in the advocates of the Reformation he had to deal with a party which was forming against himself ; and although his original repugnance to the protestant doctrines, as they now began to be termed, may perhaps have been founded upon religious conviction, yet the hatred which he entertained towards them soon became purely political. Charles V., however, was not the man to allow himself to be blinded by passion ; it was to him only the groundwork of a project which soon occupied his whole attention, as far as it was directed to the government of Germany, and the design of which was to maintain and increase the imperial power by the suppression of the party opposed to him. As soon, however, as this party perceived their danger, a closer alliance, among the protestant princes and states, was the natural consequence.

Thus, after the league of Smalcald (1530), both parties stood, prepared for war, awaiting the contest ; nor would this have been so long delayed, had not the emperor been engaged upon some other of his numerous undertakings. When, at length, a lapse of sixteen years had brought matters to the point he wished, and he fairly took the field (1546), the result showed that the courage of his opponents was not equalled by their abilities ; while the issue of the battle of Miihlberg (1547) seemed to exceed even his boldest hopes. He had scarce, however, begun to enjoy the fruits of his victory, when the daring hand of a stripling tore from his grey head the laurels which a few days sufficed to lose, but which it had taken a life of labour to collect ; and Maurice, by the treaty of Papau (1552), dispelled all the dreams of ambition in which Charles had so long revelled.

Such, in a few words, was the progress of events which occurred in the German empire at this momentous crisis, and which determined its future fate. But even then Germany had ceased to be the Germany of olden times. The new and mighty interest which had been awakened, produced a corresponding change in the politics of the empire. Its princes had learnt to estimate their power ; they had found themselves in a position which obliged them to call it into action ; and, although the preliminary treaty of Papau, confirmed as it was by the subsequent peace, concluded 1555 at Augsburgh, had secured equal constitutional rights to both the new and the old party, it was impossible that they should relapse into their former indolence, and with it, into their former political nonentity. Although the words of peace were on men's lips, they had not put away resentment and distrust from their hearts ; the new energy which the Reformation had imparted to politics remained in full force ; the two parties watched each other ready armed for a struggle ; or if they laid aside their weapons for a moment it was only to resume them upon the first appearance of danger.

Besides this, the previous peace had been procured too cheaply to allow of its being durable. Great revolutions are not to be decided by the struggle of a moment ; and more than this the fortunate attempt of Maurice can hardly be considered. Notwithstanding the peace, Germany resembled the sea while still heaving from the effects of a storm, and for a long time it remained under the influence of revolutionary feelings, which promised a new explosion at every moment ; indeed, were it not for the explanation, which is afforded by the personal characters of the three immediate successors of Charles V., history could scarcely present a more extraordinary phenomenon than the continuance of this state of things down to the year 1618, when the thirty years' war at length broke out. The treaty of Westphalia, which concluded it, finally and fully decided the strife between the two parties, and gave to the German empire that constitution, which, down to our own times, has been considered the palladium of its existence.

Thus to the Reformation and its consequences the German body owes the form which it has since assumed, and the vital spirit by which it is animated. It was scarcely conceivable that such a political body, comprising as it did so many and such different states, should for a length of time be kept in activity by any one common interest. For such a purpose what point of union should we have been inclined to select ? A desire of aggrandizement, or at least of a powerful influence over the affairs of foreign nations? Such a desire could not exist in a state which, although amply endowed with means of resistance, possessed scarce any of attack. — Perhaps a common commercial interest ? Germany had no such interest, nor could have, owing to its geographical position and its division into small states. There remains therefore but one — that which depended upon the necessity of a common resistance to attacks from without. History, however, shows, by abundant instances, that such causes are transitory, and that with them the interest they call up must pass away also ; and the history of Germany in particular has shown how easy the enemies of the empire found it to acquire friends in a state so composed ; and to make war upon Germans by the assistance of Germans. The internal union of this body of states was, therefore, nothing but a slow and lingering disease ; which, while it maintained a show of health in its subject, was on that account preparing it the more surely, either for total dissolution, or for subjection — it matters not whether to its own superior, or to a foreigner— but in both cases for its destruction.