Showing posts with label JS Mill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label JS Mill. Show all posts

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Mr. Mill on the Subjection of Women

Review of:
The Subjection of Women (by John Stuart Mill, 1869)

Part 1: June 29, 1869.

Mr. Mill’s small volume or long pamphlet on "The Subjection of Women" is intended to prove "that the principle which regulates the existing social relations between the two sexes-- the legal subordination of one to the other-- is wrong in itself, and now one of the chief hindrances to human improvement; and that it ought to be replaced by a principle of perfect equality, admitting no power or privilege on the one side, nor disability on the other." The whole volume is written in that tone of vehement moral indignation and passionate excitement, finding vent in sustained eagerness of style and thought, which so much attract some readers to Mr. Mill's writings, and so much repel from them men of his own way of thinking in many respects, but disposed to take a colder view of human nature, its prospects, and its capacities. The following is an outline of his argument:-- He begins by dealing with the adverse presumption arising from the general practice. He argues that, though in some cases the generality of a practice affords a strong presumption that it is or once was useful, this is true only of cases in which the practice was first adopted or kept up as a means to laudable ends, and was grounded on experience. In the case of the authority of men over women, there was, he says, no such conscientious comparison of various modes of social organization, and, therefore, its prevalence proves nothing in favour of its utility. If this argument is sound, it shows that the long duration of human institutions is never, or hardly ever, an argument in their favour, for, in all probability, no body of man ever did or ever will try "various modes of social organization" by way of ascertaining experimentally which is the best. The history of political changes is the history of a succession of struggles by a variety of persons, each of whom thought his own course the best for himself and his neighbours.

Mr. Mill, however, proceeds. He thinks not only that there is no evidence that the principle which he so passionately hates (the expression is not in the least too strong) was adopted as the result of experience, but that there is clear proof that it is a mere vestige of an original state of slavery in which women were held by men by superior muscular strength. "The inequality of rights between men and women has no other source than the law of the strongest," which law of the strongest “seems to be- entirely abandoned as the regulating principle of the world's affairs. Nobody professes it, and, as regards most of the relations between human beings, nobody is allowed to practise it." Mr. Mill then proceeds to assert that throughout all the earlier history of mankind right was founded exclusively on might, but this principle was gradually mitigated-- first, as he says, by the ancient republics, and afterwards by Christianity, which, however, with all its great power over human nature, "could not make [men] renounce either of the applications of force-- force militant or force triumphant." It was only as force came to be more equally divided that it ceased, or comparatively ceased, to be tyrannical. Kings ceased to be tyrants when they were checked by their subjects or by other kings or competitors for the crown; the aristocracy were checked by the growth of the bourgeoisie, and so forth. The power of men over women is only one case of this general rule. It is the last stronghold of tyranny, and ought to be regarded as such and pulled down accordingly.

Upon all this one observation at once suggests itself, which Mr. Mill does not exactly overlook, but to which he does not give its proper place in his speculation. Whatever he or any one else may choose to say in denunciation of the law of force, there neither is, ever was, or ever can by any possibility be any other law, for law is nothing but organized force. It is the very essence of law to command, but a command can be issued only by the stronger to the weaker. Therefore, to denounce the law of force is to denounce all law as such, and to advocate the establishment of a society altogether destitute of law. When this elementary and fundamental principle is forgotten, it is the natural consequence that the value of past experience should be underrated and its very nature misunderstood. If Mr. Mill is right in supposing that all law properly so called-- that is to say, all systematic force and restraint imposed by the stronger on the weak-- is tyrannical usurpation, no doubt the generality and antiquity of a custom or principle is evidence not in its favour, but against it. The proposition is startling, inasmuch as its application is enormously wide. If conjugal power is presumably tyrannical, the same may be said of parental power. If all the rights which grow out of marriage are mere remnants of a barbarous law of force, what is to be said of private property? If marriage and private property are to be put on their defence with the weight of a heavy presumption against them, what are we to say of national existence, and international rights, resting as they generally do more or less remotely upon conquest? Mr. Mill is the last person who ought to fall into this error, for he and the school of which he is the leading member have always taught the doctrine that rights are the creatures of laws, and that laws are the expression of force; and if we are now to be taught that all rights, properly so called--that is to say, all legal rights--are mere organized wrongs, and that law itself, the very notion of the systematic employment of superior power, is tyranny, we are brought face to face with the wildest and most sweeping revolution that can possibly be suggested, a revolution so sweeping that it is difficult even to conceive what sort of institutions it would establish or how the establishment of any institutions whatever could be consistent with its principles.

One special remark deserves attention. "The ancient republics," says Mr. Mill, “being mostly grounded from the first upon some form of compact, or at any rate formed by a union of persons not very unequal in strength, afforded in consequence the first instance of a portion of human relations fenced round and placed under the dominion of another law than that of force." What is a compact but an agreement enforced by law? Surely the force of law in the ancient republics as well as elsewhere, arose simply from the superiority in strength of many persons acting in combination over individuals acting in opposition to them. The ordinary law of Rome as between Roman and Roman, and for that matter the ordinary law of England as between Englishman and Englishman, is just as much a case of the law of force as the law which regulated the relations of master and slave in Jamaica or South Carolina. Mr. Mill goes on in a passage too long to extract to represent Christianity as a great antagonist of the law of force, and he loses no opportunity of introducing the word "Christian" in support of his views, taking it as equivalent to "good." Surely no agency ever brought to bear upon mankind affords so strong an instance of law established by force as Christianity itself. Do as you are told, think as you are told, or be damned to hell for all eternity, has been the language of all Christian teachers in all ages. To describe Christianity as an antagonist or counterpoise to the law of force is as monstrous as to describe the radical equality of the sexes as a Christian doctrine. The whole history of Christianity is the history of the application of force on the widest scale and in the most searching form, and all Christian Churches have always taught the subjection of women to men. The Christian conception of marriage is, as a matter of historical fact, utterly unlike that conception of it on which Mr. Mill's theory must rest. The theory that marriage is indissoluble is not held by all Christians, but most assuredly it is a Christian theory, and it leads as straight to the result which Mr. Mill deprecates of the subjection of women to men, as his own theory of the equality of the sexes leads to the result that marriage ought to be dissoluble at pleasure, like other partnerships.

Having, as he thinks, exposed the origin of the system which he regards as iniquitous, Mr. Mill, in a very odd passage, proceeds to argue that the mere permanence and generality of the present relations of the sexes proves nothing in its favour, because they have so strong a hold on society that if they were wrong they would still be able to stand. To which it may be replied that relations which have an exceedingly strong hold upon society are in all probability adapted to human nature as it is, and that if they are it is practically impossible to alter them unless you can alter human nature, whilst the chance of altering it for the better is infinitesimally small. The following extracts from this part of the work show what in Mr. Mill's opinion are the bases on which the present tyranny rests:--
“Whatever gratification of pride there is in the possession of power, and whatever personal interest in its exercise, is in this case not confined to a limited class, but common to the whole male sex. Instead of being to most of its supporters a thing desirable chiefly in the abstract, or like the political ends usually contended for by factions of little importance to any one but the leaders, it comes home to the person and hearth of every male head of a family and of every one who looks forward to being so. The clodhopper exercises or is to exercise his share of the power equally with the highest nobleman. And the case is that in which the desire of power is the strongest.”
In short, such is human nature that all men in general, and every man individually, has the strongest personal interest in maintaining the existing state of things. Moreover they have the power to do so--
“The possessors of this power have facilities in this case greater than in any other to prevent any uprising against it. Every one of the subjects lives under the very eye, and almost, it may be said, in the hands of one of the masters--in closer intimacy with him than with any of her fellow subjects, with no means of combining against him, no power of even locally over-mastering him.”
Even this is not all. Worse remains behind.
“Each individual of the subject-class is in a chronic state of bribery and intimidation combined. In setting up the standard of resistance a large number of the leaders and still more of the followers must make a complete sacrifice of the pleasures or the alleviations of their own individual lot. If ever any system of privilege and enforced subjection had its yoke tightly rivetted on the necks of those who are kept down by it, it is this. I have not yet shown that it is a wrong system, but every one who is capable of thinking on the subject must see that even if it is, it is likely to outlast all other forms of unjust authority.”
We are inclined to think that in this instance Mr. Mill is right, as he has clearly shown that all men desire the subjection of women, that many women do, in fact, like it, and that before matters can be altered the domestic peace of every household and the personal comfort of every member of every household must be destroyed by "setting up the standard of resistance," with the object of producing a domestic revolution.

Mr. Mill anticipates the objection that the rule of men over women is not a case of force at all, but rests on the consent of women, and to this he gives two answers. First he says that "a great number of women do not accept it:" an assertion which he proves by a reference to what we cannot help calling the trumpery attempts to get up an agitation on the subject in this country and in the United States. It is to us difficult to understand how any one can bring such evidence to prove such a statement. One-half of the human race, it is alleged, is tyrannized over by the other. The proof is that a few ladies in England and America amuse themselves by playing at agitating for women's rights. Suppose the question was whether a negro population liked slavery, and suppose that the evidence was that a few negroes, who had no other way of passing their time, held meetings and made speeches on the subject at the instigation of a few crotchety white men, rather to the amusement than otherwise of the vast mass of the black population, would not most people draw the inference that the existence of the agitation showed the lightness of the alleged tyranny, and that the trifling extent of the agitation showed its unreality? This is an exact parallel to the agitation for women's rights.

Is the case of blacks and whites the evidence that the blacks hated slavery consisted of instances of secret conspiracy, constant local rebellion, and slave codes of atrocious severity for their suppression. Where is there anything like any part of this in the relation between the sexes? Is any union produced by law, duty, interest, or affection, comparable for one moment to the intimacy of the union between husband and wife? It is not merely in law that they are one person.

Mr. Mill's second answer is that men have enslaved women's minds. "Men do not want solely the obedience of women, they want their sentiments. All men, except the most brutish, desire to have in the woman most nearly connected with them, not a forced slave, but a willing one, not a slave merely, but a favourite. They have therefore, put everything in practice to enslave their minds." Hence men have trained women to I look upon "the object of being attractive to men" as "the polar star of feminine education and formation of character," and by way of illustration he asks if a race of plebeians had been taught to look up to the personal favour of a race of patricians and to a share in their personal affections as the one thing desirable in life, " would not plebeians and patricians have been as broadly distinguished at this day as men and women are? And would not all but a thinker here and there have believed the distinction to be a fundamental and unalterable fact in human nature?" Like some of Mr. Mill's other statements, this argument and illustration bear upon the question with a vengeance, but they prove too much. They prove that women as they are, as they have been for ages, and as they have become under all the influences of society, are, in fact, and must long be expected to be, passionately attached to the existing state of things. The authority of men over women, it is alleged, is not slavery, because the women like it. Aye, says Mr. Mill, but they like it because their whole nature, as moulded by the events of countless centuries, leads them to like it, and it is possible that if the whole history of the sexes had been utterly different they might have felt differently therefore, constructively, they do not like the present state of things, and it is a tyranny. As to the patrician and plebian illustration it is merely a case of idem per idem. If two races of men lived together upon the terms upon which men and women now live, and if they were mutually satisfied, why should any one object? Under the circumstances imagined by Mr. Mill it is as certain as any such conclusion can L be that the plebeians would be as willing to obey the patricians and the patricians as eager to protect the plebeians as women are to obey men and women to protect women in the present state of things. Such a relation would, no doubt, be a very peculiar one, but if it existed we do not see why it should be regarded with intolerant disgust. Surely, an old family I servant who regards the honour of the house and the good opinion of iris master as the highest object of his life is not of necessity hateful or contemptible. Caleb Balderston may be a bore, but he is not a monster. All this leads to a still wider objection to the existing state of things. It is a relic of an ancient system now exploded in other departments of life.
“The old theory was that the least possible should be left to the choice of the individual agent. That all he had to do should, as far as practicable, be laid down for him by superior wisdom; left to himself le was sure to go wrong. The modern conviction, the fruit of a thousand years of experience, is that things in which the individual is the person directly interested never go right but as they are left to his own discretion; and that any regulation of them by authority, except to protect the rights of others, is sure to be mischievous. . . . If this general principle of social and economical science is not true; if individuals, with such help as they can derive from the opinion of those who know them, are not better judges than the law and the Government of their own capacities and vocation, the world cannot too soon abandon this principle and return to the old system of regulations and disabilities. But if the principle is true, we ought to act as if we believed it, and not to ordain that to be born a girl instead of a boy any more than to be born black instead of white . . . shall decide the person's position throughout life.”
He adds soon afterwards, "The social subordination of women thus stands out an isolated fact in modem social institutions; a solitary breach of what has become their fundamental law."

That this principle referred to is the "fundamental law" of Mr. Mill’s "Essay on Liberty" is true enough; that it has a great influence on modern social institutions is equally true; but that it is an absolutely true principle which ought to be applied without qualification to every case to which It can be applied appears to us to be altogether false. Misdirected restraint, bad government, has no doubt done a great deal of harm; but moderately good government, restraints imposed upon principles which even if misconceived are approximately true, or, at least, are distorted representations of the truth, have done a vast deal of good, and liberty unwisely permitted has perhaps done as much harm as ill-directed law. Many of the evils under which we labour might have been cured long since if certain tendencies had been effectually restrained which have now got past restraint. Suppose that part of the force which was spent in attempting to persecute the Irish out of Popery had been spent in educating Irish children as Protestants, that part of the force which was wasted in confiscating the land of Ireland and in maintaining confiscation had been spent in the maintenance of a strict system of police, and in the establishment and maintenance of more rational laws as to the land, would Ireland still have been a Catholic country, and a source of weakness to England? But let us try a few applications of Mr. Mill's principle. "Things in which the individual is the person directly interested never go right but as they are left to his own discretion." Whether a woman shall or shall not work in a coalpit is a thing in which she individually is directly interested. Therefore, it will never go right unless it is left to her own, discretion. Whether a child shall or shall not be educated is a thing in which the child is the person most directly interested, and the parents next most directly; therefore, the education or non-education of the child ought to be left entirely to the child and the parents. Whether or not people shall frequent gambling-houses is a question which principally affects them; therefore, the law should permit gambling-houses. Yet women are forbidden by law to work in coalpits, Mr. Mill would not regard compulsory education as tyrannical, and gambling-houses are suppressed by law. These are but three instances, but the number which might be given is endless. This brings us to the exception which Mr. Mill adds to, and by which, as it appears to us, he stultifies, the principle. "Any regulation of things in which any person is directly interested by authority, except to protect the rights of others, is sure to be mischievous." But what are the rights of others? Of all living men Mr. Mill best knows that rights are the creatures of laws. If it is the law that I shall not walk down the Strand or read the newspapers, each and every other person living under the law has a right to have me prevented from doing so; and, therefore, when I am stopped from walking down the Strand by any person he is merely enforcing his right, and the law in restraining me is protecting his right to have me stopped. But if this be so, his principle comes to this-- that the law never ought to interfere with a man's proceedings except in those cases where it ought to interfere: which is perfectly true. In fact, it is impossible to say that there is any sort of presumption either in favour of laws as such or against them. With respect to every law the question is whether or not it contributes to the public interest. There is, however, a way in which the existence and permanence of a given institution throw light upon the question of its utility. In the long ran laws correspond pretty closely with the distribution of power. If we find a permanent aristocracy in a given country we may be pretty sure that, owing to some cause or other, the aristocracy is the most powerful body in that country. If for a long series of years we can trace the progress of changes of a democratic nature we may infer that the democracy is gradually becoming more powerful, and so forth. We may also add to this the further remark that unless the laws do correspond pretty closely with the fact, they can never be stable. The great argument in favour of the late Reform Bill was that the centre of political power had in fact shifted, and that it was practically necessary to recognize the fact by corresponding alterations in the suffrage. So in the case of the Norman Conquest. It would have been absurd to make laws which did not recognize and proceed upon the fact that England was a conquered country, and that the Norman barons were the conquerors. In the interests of all alike, the ruled as well as the rulers, it is necessary to recognize such facts as these, for if the law does not recognize and reduce to a certainty a permanent and actually existing superiority of force, it will assuredly assert itself in other ways, and in that case it will be far harsher and more violent than if it is recognized. In one way or another such a superiority will make itself felt, and no rational legislator would disregard it. Now, if we bear this principle in mind in reference to the case of men and women it is impossible to imagine any evidence upon any moral or political subject which approaches in force the evidence supplied by experience as to the superiority of men over women in regard to strength. Mr. Mill himself does not dispute their superiority in what he calls, with a sort of contempt, mere "muscular force." This, however, is by no means an adequate expression of the fact. Can any sane man doubt that men have larger bones, thicker skins, as a rule, greater nervous energy, louder and deeper voices, more capacious chests, broader shoulders --in a word, bodies better adapted for every kind of exertion than women, to say nothing of their exemption from physical conditions which greatly diminish every form of strength? To call all this "mere muscular force" is a most imperfect description of a very important class of facts, especially in a philosopher whose theories certainly cannot be said to tend to deepen the distinction between mind and body. To return, however, to experience. The fact that men have governed, and do govern, every country in the world may be explained in various ways, but it is surely inconsistent with the notion that men are not much stronger than women. If they are stronger, and if law is the regulated and formal expression of force, it is idle to legislate as if they were equal.

Mr. Mill concludes the introductory part of his work with some remarks on the distinctive characteristics of women, which he afterwards amplifies. The gist of what he has to say is contained in a few words: "The profoundest knowledge of the laws of the formation of character is indispensable to entitle any one to affirm even that there is any difference, much more what the difference is, between the two sexes considered as moral and rational beings." "Conjectures are all that can at present be made." We will not follow Mr. Mill through his observations on this subject, many of which appear to us open to much criticism. His argument is, in a few words, that we have not yet analyzed character, and the circumstances which lead to its formation, and that therefore we are unable to say specifically what, if any, differences exist between men and women. It appears to us just as reasonable to say that, for analogous reasons, we cannot affirm that there is any and what difference between dogs and wolves, Englishmen and Irishmen, Protestants and Roman Catholics, Mr. Mill and any other man. No one can specify the exact distinction between Mr. Mill, for instance, and Sir W. Hamilton. Yet no rational person would neglect the difference. The truth is that it is precisely in those cases in which scientific precision has not been attained, and is perhaps unattainable, that the distinction between those who have and those who want the qualities which we call mother wit and common sense is most conspicuous. It is true that we are not able to give appropriate names to the differences between men and women, and a complete systematic theory of their nature and causes; but a person who cannot see in general what they are, and what are the practical inferences to be drawn from their existence, appears to us strangely deficient in qualities which are of great importance, though they do not always accompany conspicuous philosophical capacity.

There is, however, one difference between men and women which Mr. Mill overlooks, but which may be affirmed to exist with perfect confidence, and which lies at the root of all other differences between them. It is simply that men are men and that women are women, and that each sex, as such, has attractions for the other which are amongst the strongest of human passions. If these passions have their natural and normal course the result is marriage. Mr. Mill continually writes as if married life were a profession which some women may choose just as others are to choose art, medicine, law, or what not. It never appears to strike him that to speak of the position of a wife or mother as analogous to that of a professional man is an abuse of language. No one talks of the profession of a father of a family. You might as well talk of the profession of eating one's dinner. One of the principal objects which people have in view in adopting professions is to enable themselves to support the expense of living according to nature in the matter of families. One fundamental and unalterable inequality between men and women is that, whereas the orderly and reasonable satisfaction of passions which in the case of both men and women more or less distinctly and consciously affect every part of human life, is in normal cases essential to the happiness of each, its satisfaction in the case of men is a strong spur to exertion in active professions, whilst in the case of women it physically incapacitates them from everything of the kind. Active life, therefore, must be as abnormal in the case of women as it is normal in the case of men; and to refuse to recognize this fact in social and professional legislation appears to us to be precisely the same absurdity as to refuse to extend the suffrage to the working classes when they have virtually become a great political power, or to ignore the superiority which a conquering race has proved over those whom it has conquered by legislating as if no conquest had taken place. This supplies the answer to some remarks made by Mr. Mill upon an argument on the subject which has often been used in these columns, and which he does not appear to us to understand. "I should like," he says, "to hear somebody openly enunciating the doctrine (it is already implied in much that is written on the subject), ‘It is necessary to society that women should marry and produce children. They will not do so unless they are compelled. Therefore it is necessary to compel them.' The merits of the case would then be clearly defined." No one ever said anything so foolish. It is not law, but passions and instincts infinitely stronger than any law, which compel men and women to enter into those relations which laws fashion into marriage. The task which nature throws upon society is to take notice of this fact, and to govern itself accordingly, and the argument which Mr. Mill parodies stands, in fact, somewhat as follows:--

1. The orderly and reasonable satisfaction of the passions and feelings which arise both in men and in women from difference of sex is one of the great objects of society, and is the necessary condition of its perpetuation.
2. Hence the normal state for both men and women, by which all other relations of life should be regulated, is marriage. Married men and women should be treated as the rule, and unmarried men and women as the exception.
3. But marriage implies the subjection of the wife to the husband. Women, therefore, in their normal and most honourable condition are subject to men.
4. Therefore unmarried women ought not to be treated as if they were the superiors of married women.

Mr. Mill does not, we think, dissent very widely from this way of putting the case. He would probably admit that the whole question of women's rights turns upon the question of the nature of marriage, and the greater part of his book is occupied with the statement and defence of his views upon that subject. We must reserve them for future notice, but in the meantime there is some satisfaction in finding in him a thoroughgoing antagonist who tells us fairly that the real ground on which he advocates female suffrage and the alteration of the law as to the property of married women is because he regards them as steps towards a revolution which is to alter the character of every family in England, and to cause every man to cease to be master in his own house. At all events we know what we have to deal with.

Part 2: August 23, 1869.

Some time ago we examined part of Mr. Mill's work on the Subjection of Women, and in particular we tried to show that his views on that subject were vitiated by the manner in which he deals with historical evidence, by the theory which he assumes as to the principles of legislation upon such subjects, and by his refusal to recognize the fact that men and women do differ widely because he cannot precisely specify the particulars in which they differ. We now propose to show how his theories would apply to marriage. Marriage, he tells us in various forms, ought to be regarded as a partnership between equal and independent contracting agents, who, like all other human beings in this age of the world, ought to liv e together as equals. He carefully avoids saying that it ought, like other partnerships, to be dissoluble at the pleasure of the contracting parties, but it is obvious that his whole theory must be impracticable, and even absurd, without this proviso. It is hardly necessary to waste words in proving the fact that marriages in which there is to be no subordination must be dissoluble at pleasure and that if marriage is, as at present, to be practically indissoluble, one or the other of the married parties must be in the superior position. If two people ride on a horse, one must hold the reins, or each must have the liberty of dismounting when he pleases. Since, however, everything upon this subject is disputed it may be as well to repeat once more what really amounts to a demonstration. Suppose husband and wife differ as to any one of a hundred subjects, the education of their children, the place of their residence, whom they will invite to dinner, what time they will breakfast, &c. &c., either one must give way to the other, or they must part company, or the family must conic to a dead-lock, which is reductio ad absurdum, or the law must in each case decide between them, which is practically impossible. Mr. Mill suggests that the respective provinces of husband and wife might be regulated by previous contract. But surely this would be impossible. How could such a contract be drawn? How could it be enforced? Law is far too rough an engine to be introduced into the regulations of domestic affairs. It follows, therefore, that if marriage is to be an equal partnership, it must be a partnership dissoluble at pleasure. Mr. Mill himself substantially admits this, for, after suggesting a variety of ways by which flatters may be settled between husband and wife without recognizing any superiority on either side, he at last says:-- "Things never come to an issue of downright power on one side and obedience on the other, except where the connection altogether has been a mistake, and it would be a blessing to both parties to be relieved from it." As the parties only could say when such a state of things had arisen, this admission involves the principle of divorce at pleasure. Let us see, then, how this would affect the condition of women. Suppose that after seven or eight years of married life a man of thirty-three or thirty-four dissolves partnership with a wife of the same age, who has say four children under eight. He will still be liable, probably, to contribute his share towards their maintenance, but what will her position be? He will be in the very prime of life, but she, if she has ceased to be attractive to him and is obliged to take care of her four children, will not be favourably situated for marrying again.  What is to be her future life? To talk of the world and its various professions being open to her is mockery. How can a woman with the care of four little children on her hands follow any other profession than that of looking after them? If any one doubts whether, on the whole, marriage as it is is a good bargain for women, they have only got to compare the life of a wife with that of a kept mistress, and to calculate the number of persons who would be willing, apart from considerations of morality and respectability, to exchange the one position for the other. The truth is, as any one who will carefully consider the question of divorce may easily see, that it is impossible to evade or alter the fact that men are in every way stronger than women. In one form or other this fact will govern their relations. If the law does not recognize this inequality, it will make itself felt in other ways. Destroy the legal and moral duty of obedience on the part of the wife towards the husband, make marriage a mere partnership, and the husband will by his superior power have his wife at his mercy. Put the wife by law in the superior position, and there will be no husbands. Put the husband in the superior position, and you have the existing order of things--an arrangement which we believe to be right in principle, though it might no doubt be considerably improved in matters of detail.

The principle upon which it rests is that the relation of the sexes in general and marriage in particular involves rule and protection on the one hand and submission on the other, each set of feelings being permeated by the sentiment which each so excites in the other, and being thus softened elevated, and softened. This principle Mr. Mill denounces in every sort of way. He regards it as obsolete, fundamentally erroneous, and destined to be supplanted by a more modern principle, which he states over and over again in different forms, of which we will quote a few.
“Command and obedience are but unfortunate necessities of human life: society in equality is its normal state. Already in modern life, and more and more as it progressively improves, command and obedience become exceptional facts in life. Equal association is its general rule. . . . We have had the morality of submission, and the morality of chivalry and generosity; the time is now come for the morality of justice. . . . We are entering into an order of things in which justice will again be the primary virtue. . . The true virtue of human beings is fitness to live together as equals.”
Near the end of the book he says that the first specific advantage of the existing state of things will be--
“The advantage of having the most universal and pervading of all human relations regulated by justice instead of injustice. . . . All that education and civilization are doing to efface the influences on character of the law of force and replace them by those of justice remains merely on the surface so long as the citadel of the enemy is not attacked. 
Other passages are to be found in abundance in the book which show clearly that by justice Mr. Mill means equality, and that he regards inequality as incompatible with any of the higher feelings. Take, for instance, such sentences as these:-- “Even with true affection authority on the one side and subordination on the other prevent perfect confidence. The position of looking up to another is extremely unpropitious to complete sincerity and openness with him."

These passages appear to us to contain the very soul of the book, the greater part of which is nothing but an amplification and application of them. Much might be said in opposition to nearly every page which it contains, but we shall best show the grounds on which we dissent from Mr. Mill by confining our observations to these leading principles.

To begin at the beginning, our conception of justice is altogether different from Mr. Mill's. There are two views upon this subject. One of these views is that justice follows, the other that it precedes and form is the law. Those who think as we do, that justice follows the law, mean by the word "justice" nothing more than the equal and impartial application of any rule whatever to those cases for which it provides. For instance, if there were a rule that the seventh son of a seventh son should be incompetent as a witness from thirty-five to forty, it would, in our sense of the word be unjust in places where that rule was in force to admit the testimony of any such person during that period of his life. The rule itself would be neither just nor unjust, though it would be mischievous and absurd. In the other view of justice it corresponds very nearly to that equality which in many parts of the world has been made the object of a sort of worship. Justice in this view is supposed to consist in putting every human creature as far as possible upon an equal footing; in allotting to each, as far as may be, the same political and social rights and duties in favouring, as far as possible, an equal distribution of property; and, in a word, in recognizing no a priori classification of mankind whatever, whether colour, race, or sex be taken as the principle on which that classification is to proceed. Whether this is a good or a bad thing we do not at present inquire; but to describe it as justice, and then to argue in favour of it as being just, appears to us to be a rhetorical artifice which Mr. Mill has less right to adopt than any other person whatever. It is the fallacy which Bentham denounced so continually, and so justly, of “question-begging epithets." Equality is just, but justice is good, therefore equality is good. This seems to us altogether fallacious. Before you can show that justice itself is good, you must show that the rule in the impartial administration of which justice consists is generally beneficial. The just administration of such a law as the one about the seven tie sons of seventh sons would be a great evil, because the law itself would be monstrous. Upon the whole, therefore, it would seem that the expediency or utility of general equality must be proved before it can be said that justice demands it, if justice is regarded as a good thing. Mr. Mill, however, is not contented with invoking justice. He tries to show that Christianity also is on his side. He tells us that  the equality of human beings is the theory of Christianity." Christianity is a very indefinite word, and means, generally speaking, that part of an enormous whole which the person who uses the phrase approves of. Its true sense, we submit, is the body of opinions and sentiments held by those persons who in different ages have professed to be the followers of Jesus Christ. Now, to say that Christianity, in this sense of the word, teaches the equality of human beings is to ignore the fact that almost every scheme of Christian theology, Protestant or Catholic, agrees in teaching that some men go to heaven and others to hell, and that the reason why they do so is to be found in the will of God, who for inscrutable reasons gives to some persons greater grace than to others. This is the mildest form, of the doctrine, which in its sterner forms runs up into the heights of predestination and reprobation. Whichever form of it is chosen, the practical result is much the same, and the effect is to establish between man and man a kind and degree of inequality which is altogether transcendental and incapable of being compared to anything human. How then can Christianity be said to preach the equality of human beings?

As to the advantages of equality, it appears to us that legislation ought to be founded on and adjusted to facts, and that it is just as mischievous to neglect real distinctions as to create fictitious ones, to treat as equals those who are not equals, as to treat those who are equal as if they were not. It has no doubt been found by experience that many distinctions once regarded as indelible and essential, were in fact transitory or of minor importance; that, for instance, men of different colours and different creeds might advantageously to all be put upon the same footing; but it does not follow from this that sex and age do not make real distinctions between human beings, and indeed it is perfectly certain that at given times and places differences of creed, colour, and race have formed substantial distinctions which it would have been the blindest pedantry to overlook. Can it be alleged, for instance, even in the present day, that barbarous tribes ought always to be treated on a footing of exact equality with civilized races which inhabit the same country? that the Santhal, the Hindoo and the Englishman, the Frenchman and the Arab, the American and the Red Indian, the Dane and the Esquimnaux, the Caffre and the Bloor, should all be treated in precisely the same way and subjected to identically the same laws ? Would Mr. Mill himself say that women ought to be liable to the same duties as men, that they should be subject, for instance, to compulsory military service?

So much for the question of justice. Let us now consider Mr. Mill's subordinate proposition, which is that obedience and command are melancholy necessities, the importance of which is gradually fading away before modern improvements, and that society, in equality, practically excludes them. This appears to us to be a fundamental error. We think that obedience and command, in one shape or another, do now, and, as far as it is possible to form any reasonable anticipations about the future, always must and will form the very staple of life. Its great problem is to bring our individual wishes and wills into harmony with certain principles of conduct, and general or special facts in external nature. This general truth is recognized by the universal metaphor which describes every general fact as a "law." The metaphor is in many respects misleading, but it is highly significant. It is one of many facts which might be adduced to show how constant and all-pervading in life are drill and discipline, and how few of the tastes and feelings which play any considerable part in it are of much use so long as they remain spontaneous and untrained. Every form of education involves continual and systematic command and obedience, no branch of knowledge and few bodily accomplishments can be acquired without them. The highest conception entertained by the human mind, the only one ever yet discovered which has in fact been capable of uniting the human race for any large purpose into a single body, is that of the one God, the supreme ruler, whose commands pervade the moral universe and constitute the distinction between moral good and evil. Where there is no command and no obedience, there are and can be no duties. Yet inflexibly to do your duty, to obey the commands laid upon you, is surely the highest, or nearly the highest, ideal of life.

Let us, then, consider the nature of family life viewed in relation to this principle. Mr. Mill seems to think that those who say that a man ought to be master in his own house mean to affirm that the father of a family should be a despot, the wife his favourite slave, and the children his subordinate slaves. The burden of the whole book is that men have enslaved women in body and in mind; that "no other class of dependants have had their character so entirely distorted;" that men cannot know women, because even when true affection exists between husband and wife "authority on the one side and subordination on the other prevent perfect confidence" that though it cannot be asserted "that wives are in general no better treated than slaves," yet "no slave is a slave to the same lengths and in so full a sense of the word as a wife is." He talks of the "despotism of the family." He explains the intense attachment which exists between husband and wife by the remark, "Exactly as much may be said of domestic slavery. These intense individual feelings nowhere rise to such a luxuriant height as under the most atrocious institutions. It is part of the irony of life that the strongest feelings of devoted gratitude of which human nature seems to be susceptible are called forth in human beings towards those who, having the power entirely to crush their earthly existence, voluntarily refrain from using that power."

To say nothing of the taste of such passages as these, they all seem to us to overlook the fact that authority united with even a moderate degree of benevolence is in itself a popular thing, and that submission to that which is regarded as lawful authority is never felt to involve degradation or to prevent confidence. Neither in theory nor in practice, neither in law nor in morals, is a wife bound to obey her husband to anything like the same extent or under anything like such severe sanctions as those which apply to soldiers and sailors. Yet military discipline is not inconsistent with confidence and friendship. If the captain and the lieutenant, the colonel and the major car, be intimate friends, although there exists between them the relation of legal superior and inferior, involving the right to command and the duty to obey, why should not equal confidence exist between husband and wife? The true theory of a family is that it is a small State having for its main object the education in various directions of the different persons who form part of it, and each member having his own special function to be exercised for his own good, and for the good of the rest. Why should the position of a wife in such a system be slavish or degraded any- more than that of a child, and what would be said of a child who considered obedience to his parents as a degradation? Mr. Mill characteristically omits from his book all reference to the fact that in most families there are children as well as married persons. He never seems to recollect that in the case of children at all events command and obedience are continual and inevitable, and that from this alone it follows that the family must have one head. As to the general notion that the power of a husband and father may be useful to his wife and family he is of course ready with his answer. It is given in these words: “Who doubts that there may be great goodness and areas happiness and great affection under the absolute government of man? Meanwhile laws and institutions require to be adapted not to good men but to bad." That is to say the rights and duties of married life are to be regulated on the principle that husbands in general will be cruel to their wives, that wives in general will love their husbands, and that neither will use for their children's good any power which that law gives them over their children. Make your marriage laws, says Mr. Mill, on the supposition that their great object is to restrain a brutal man and a silly woman from doing each other and their children as much harm as they otherwise would do. Assume for purposes of legislation that every legal power will be abused, and that whatever discretion you give will be employed for selfish purposes. Let no man make a will, because most men are fools. Give no power to military commanders, because they will presumably be bad. Trust no one, for this is a world of knaves and fools on its way under my guidance to eternal happiness and boundless progress. This is the very essence of Mr. Mill's book, and we reply to it that such assumptions are sure to fulfil themselves, and that there is no surer way of making people brutal, selfish, and silly than by legislating on the supposition that they generally are so in fact. If you assume that every punishment which a parent inflicts on a child is an act of cruelty, and call upon him to justify it specially, and that whenever a husband calls upon his wife to obey him; be is a tyrant and she a slave, you do your utmost, and that utmost if you are a legislator is a great deal, to destroy all the respect which children feel for their parents and wives for their husbands. Nothing, indeed, is more remarkable in Mr. Mill's book than the strange union which it presents of prospective philanthropy with actual misanthropy. He is, as all his works show, an enthusiastic believer in human progress; but he is the bitterest and most contemptuous perhaps of all contemporary critics of the actual men and women in the midst of whom he lives. Take, for instance, this sentence-
“The greater part of what women write about women is mere sycophancy to men. Is the case of unmarried women much of it seems only intended to get a husband. If the family in its best forms is, as it is often said to be, a school of sympathy, tenderness, and loving forgetfulness of self, it is still oftener, as respects its chief, a school of willfulness, overbearingness, unbounded self-indulgence, and a double-eyed and idealized selfishness, of which sacrifice itself is only a particular form; the care of the wife and children being only care for them as part of the man's own interests and belongings, and their individual happiness being immolated in every shape to his smallest preferences. What better is to be looked for under the existing form of the institution?”
To us there is something at once suspicious and repulsive in this union of bitter hatred and contempt for the present with passionate confidence at the future. If a man love not men and women whom he hath seen, how can he love human nature or humanity in the abstract which neither he nor anybody else ever did, will, or possibly can see?

There is, indeed, one remarkable qualification to the bitter hatred which Mr. Mill feels for us all. Radical as he is, he admits that the higher classes are not generally brutal, as in a memorable passage of his essay on Liberty he admitted that they do not usually lie.
“I readily admit (and it is the very foundation of my hopes) that numbers of married people even under the present law (in the higher classes of England probably a great majority) live in the spirit of a just law of equality. Law's never would be improved if there were not numerous persons whose moral sentiments are better than the existing laws. Such persons ought to support the principles here advocated, of which the only object is to make all other married couples similar to what these are now.”
We are sorry to be unable to agree with Mr. Mill even in this matter. That there are innumerable happy families in this and other countries, and that in every rank of life, we entirely believe; but that husbands and wives in such families live together on terms of equality we deny. We should say that the happiness of these families is founded on the fact that each member of them, and especially the husband and wife, knows his or her place, and discharges its functions properly. Mr. Mill never distinguishes between willing and unwilling obedience. He appears to think that a person never can be said to obey unless he gives way to threats, or to command unless he employs threats; but surely this is altogether a mistake, A man may be master in his own house, in the fullest sense of the word, who never gives a positive order even to a servant, and who never takes any part whatever in his domestic affairs beyond giving his wife whatever money she asks for; but where this happy state of things exists, it arises from the fact that he is recognized by every member of the household, from the wife downwards, as their natural ruler and guide, whose authority is exercise, not by harsh tones or brutal gestures, but by simply announcing the conclusions at which, in the exercise of his discretion, he has arrived. Let us take a specific instance. The question is whether upon the whole it would be wise to send a particular boy to school. The parents talk the matter over and discuss it from various points of view. The wife at last takes one side, the husband the other. There are no hard words, no load tones, no ill-feeling, no diminution of confidence or love; but the boy goes to school or stays at home, as the father decides, and the mother as a rule is glad to be free from the responsibility of deciding. This is what we understand by conjugal obedience and authority, and we firmly believe that one of the greatest attractions which married life possesses for women Is that it provides them with an authority upon whom they can lean and who will take the responsibility of deciding the questions which affect their happiness. Almost every widow or unmarried woman tries to supply the want of a husband by some male adviser in whom she puts confidence, her brother, her son, her clergyman, her lawyer, her doctor, or the trust of her marriage settlement. And a man must have seen very little of practical life who does not know by experience that women stand pretty nearly as much in need of protection in these days against various forms of fraud,, imposition, and moral violence as ever they did in rougher times against physical force.

Pall Mall Gazette, June 29 and August 23, 1869.

Men and Women

Part 1: July 2, 1868.

Some ten days ago we were rash enough to say, in reference to Mr. Shaw Lefevre's bill about the property of married women, that whatever might be the advantages or defects of the present law upon the subject-- and every one must admit that it is capable of much improvement-- all legislation upon such matters ought to recognize and proceed upon three fundamental principles, which we stated in the following words:
“First, that men are superior to women--that is, that we have more moral, intellectual, and physical strength than they have; that we know more, feel more, can do more, are their superiors in every sense in which one class of beings can be superior to another. Secondly, that families are in the nature of small governments, and that the constitution of those governments should be monarchical, the husband being king. Thirdly, that family life, the position of a daughter, a wife, and a mother, is the normal and the most honourable course of life for women in general; that women who do not follow it should be regarded as exceptional persons, and that the law of the land should be based upon principles adapted for the case of those who do, not for the case of those who do not.”
We have received a good many letters upon the subject, three of which, being the ablest vindication of the view opposed to our own which reached us, we have published. We have not the least intention of either replying upon our correspondent, or defending ourselves from some of her charges. When, for instance, she tells us that some of our expressions are "very overbearing and impertinent," when she says that men in general, and the author of the article in question in particular, are "deficient in the art of presenting unpleasant things in a pleasing, graceful way," we have not a word to say. We are quite ready to apologize for any expressions which a lady describes as overbearing and impertinent. If they gave her pain, that is quite enough. We are sincerely sorry for it. We have only to say in explanation that the sentences which we have quoted were written rather with an eye to male antagonists than with an eye to female readers. We forgot for the moment that they were not uttered upon one of those arenas in which to "tramp along in heavy-heeled boots straight before you, crushing down other people's arguments under your weight" (to quote our correspondent once more) is one of the principal objects to be kept in view. The phrases were, no doubt, too rough for a drawing-room, and we are obliged to our correspondent for reminding us that when she and other ladies do us the honour to read what we write they impose upon us the obligation of suiting our style to our readers, especially upon subjects in which they must naturally take a special interest.

Having tendered this apology, which we hope may be accepted, and having printed a reply of six columns and upwards to a remark which filled only nine lines, we may be allowed to state rather more fully what we really meant to say, inasmuch as we firmly believe it to be true, and of vital importance. Any one who will read the sentences which appear to have given so much offence will see at once that we used the words "superior" and "superiority" in a special sense. In saying "men are superior to women-- that is, we have more moral, intellectual, and physical strength than they," we define superiority to mean superiority in strength, whether intellectual, physical, or moral. This at once reduces the difference between our correspondent and ourselves to very small dimensions. She says towards the end of her second letter, "I think with you that men are physically and intellectually stronger than women." But, she adds, "as to moral superiority I differ from you entirely." By moral superiority we meant no more- as the structure of the sentence and scope of the argument show --than moral strength, or, in other words, general force of character; and surely, of all the differences which exist between men and women-- differences of physical structure hardly excepted --none is better marked than this. That more men than women go to heaven is an assertion which we never made, but that men as a rule are superior to women in those moral qualities which enable one human being to govern another is proved, if it requires proof, by the fact that in every age and every nation in the world men have, in fact, governed and actually do govern women. This cannot be accounted for by mere physical superiority (by which we mean superior muscular force), for if that were the case elephants and tigers would govern men. Nor can it be accounted for by mere intellectual power, for in that case the wisest human beings would govern the rest, which notoriously they do not. It must, therefore, be due to that more general cause which is denoted by the words force of character, or, as we call it, moral superiority-a quality which a very bad man may have, and a very good man may want. So, when we say that men "feel more" than women, we mean that they have a greater number of passions, and that those passions are deeper and more persistent. Feeling is a very general word. The feeling, for instance, of pleasure in science, or of interest in political economy, or of ambition, is as much a case of feeling as a mother's love for her child; and when we say that men feel more than women we mean, not that they are more powerfully acted upon by particular emotions, though this would admit of discussion, but that they have a greater number of objects of interest. In short, the first of our three propositions was simply that men are superior to women in every form of strength, that they are stronger in all the common senses of the word strong. We do not think that our correspondent denies this. We should doubt, indeed, whether any one would seriously deny it. Our correspondent does, indeed, insist at some length that women are stronger than men in the qualities which enable them to manage property, the proof being that, in some cases, they are apt to look after their proprietary rights with extreme sharpness, and to be very strict and severe overseers of the proceedings of those who are under their power. Every one will recognize the sort of women to whom this description refers, and most people will probably agree with us in thinking that such women form a not very pleasant exception to the rest of their sex, and that their manner of managing their affairs is not vine to which it would be desirable to give exceptional encouragement.

Assuming, however, that men are in the sense stated stronger that women, let us pass on to the connection of this genera assertion with the two other principles which we stated, and which the first principle was meant to introduce. Those principles are that families ought to be regarded as small monarchies, the husband being king, and that the laws relating to women in general should be passed upon the supposition that women in general will pass the greater part of their lives under the power of men either as daughters or wives.

First as to families being governments. What is government? Government is where one intelligent and voluntary agent compels another by force or fear to do something which that other dislikes, and from this it is obvious that the strongest, and not the best, must govern. Is it then necessary that there should be government in families? The answer is, Yes, unless its members are so united as never to differ, or unless they can dissolve partnership at pleasure if they do? If the rider wants to go one way and the horse to go another, they must either part or one must give way. Suppose the husband and wife differ as to religion, as to education of their children, as to their mode of living or place of residence; is the law to impose no duty upon either, or to permit them to separate if they think proper, and so put an end to the marriage, or to order the husband to obey the wife, or the wife to obey the husband? One of these four things it must do. If the law is completely neutral, if there are to be no such things as conjugal rights either over person or over property, it is difficult to see how the liberty of discretionary divorce can be refused, and if that liberty were once granted women would become the slaves of men in real earnest, and would be made to feel how valuable to them is that legal recognition of their weakness of which some of them, it appears, complain. A legal right to be supported by their husbands, to share to the full extent in all his worldly goods (which is the meaning of the promise, " with all my worldly goods I thee endow"), is the consideration which women get for the legal duty of obedience. Make marriage a contract to cohabit during pleasure, and women would lose by it out of all comparison more than men, if a calamity which would degrade the whole human race could be said to be more injurious to the one sex than to the other. If marriage, exceptions apart, is to be indissoluble, provision must be made for the government of the family in case government should be required; and in whose hands except the husband's can the power of government be vested?

All this, no doubt, has a harsh sound, but the bark, as in many other cases, is far worse than the bite. There is between government and society a distinction as deep and broad as the distinction between compulsion and persuasion. The one is a necessary evil, the other an enormous good. In every family there must be a person to say "must" and "shall" in case of need, just as in every State there must be coercive power provided in case of disobedience; but in a moderately happy family, in nineteen house- holds out of every twenty, the husband's authority is as little felt as the authority of the criminal law, and we have little doubt that to the great majority of those whom our article appears to have pained the question as to the degree of legal power which husbands and fathers should possess is as indifferent as the question how theft or murder shall be defined. Undisputed rights are seldom exercised, and men who are most indisputably masters in their own houses are, as every one knows, least disposed to trespass on the natural province of their wives, or to rely in any incident of their lives, great or small, upon their legal rights. People can hardly be conscious of their existence except as matter of speculation, so long as they and their wives love each other. Where mutual love exists-that is to say, in all common cases-the supremacy of the husband in his family is established at once and without dispute, and the legal rights of the parties cease to possess any value for them, or, indeed, any significance, except in so far as they set up a standard of thought and feeling which is useful as a guide. No man happily married congratulates himself on having the power to control the family income. No woman happily married congratulates herself on her having a legal right to pledge her husband's credit for necessaries. Law is required only when hard comes to hard. It is meant to provide for the case of careless or unhappy marriages. If these are not to be dissoluble at the will of the parties (and if they are, all marriages are made insecure), it is necessary that the legal rights of the parties should be defined, that in case of need one should be authorized to govern and the other be compelled to obey, and our argument is that in such cases the husband ought to govern. Whether the existing state of the law does not give him greater powers than are necessary for this purpose is an extensive and intricate question which we need not discuss on the present occasion. The sole point which we are desirous to enforce is that he ought to be invested by law with an effective and substantial control over his family. What should be the precise limits of that control is another question.

The last of our three propositions was that the laws relating to women ought to proceed upon the supposition that the normal and the most honourable course of life for a woman is married life. By this we meant to indicate very shortly the ground on which we object to proposals for female suffrage and other attempts to disregard the distinction between men and women. In a few words, that objection is that, if such rights are given to married women, they would be inconsistent with their position as wives, and with the subordination or inferiority to their husbands (in the sense explained above), which is inseparable from the very idea of married life. If they are given to single and not to married women, the result would be to throw a slur upon marriage. Married women ought to be excluded from political life for the sake of their husbands and sons. Single women ought to be excluded from political life for the sake of married women. This may look harsh, but we believe that in fact it would be difficult to do a more cruel thing than to stimulate women to enter into competition with men by Acts of Parliament, conferring rights upon them which hardly any of them (not, for one, our correspondent) really want. When they admit their weakness, when it is recognized by law and custom, it becomes their strength in a thousand well-known ways. If they deny and repudiate it, if they regard it not as part of the order of nature, but as an artificial product of male tyranny, if they will insist upon meeting men in what has hitherto been regarded as the male province upon professedly equal terms, they will be made cruelly conscious of the fact that they are weaker than men, weaker in body, mind, and spirit.  For their own sakes we advise them not to try the experiment.  The result in thousands of cases would be heart-breaking.

We have to apologize to our correspondent for using one word which she did not understand, and another which sent her to the dictionary.  We had, however, a distinct meaning in each case.  “Normal” means that which conforms to the common pattern.  A “normal” chair would have four legs.  The “normal” prospect for a woman is marriage.  “Dyslogistically” is an adverb brought into fashion, if not invented, by Jeremy Bentham, and means that word to which it applies to which he used to call the “question-begging” class of words, and that in a bad sense.  Thus “revolution” is dyslogistic; “reform” eulogistic. “Obstinancy” is dyslogistic; “firmness,” eulogistic; and so on.

Part 2: July 14, 1868

The letter from Miss Helen Taylor which we published a few days ago on the relations between men and women appears to us to deserve a reply; all as, Moreover, the subject seems to be of considerable general interest, Ad e propose to answer Miss Tayor, briefly.

She selects three points in a late article of ours upon this subject as being the "most prominent and easily exposed" fallacies which that article contains. They are as follows:--

1. We said that the fact that men actually do govern women proves that they are superior to women in those moral qualities which enable one human being to govern another, and in particular that mere superiority in muscular force would not account for the fact, inasmuch as if it did tigers sand elephants would govern men.

Miss. Taylor says this is illogical, inasmuch as it is "as plain as day-light" that if men and women are mentally and morally equal physical superiority will turn the scale, no moral obstacle in the mind of the stronger intervening.

The answer is that Miss Taylor uses the word "moral" in a sense different from that in which, as we gave notice, we used it. She obviously means by it, deserving of praise or blame. We used the word as equivalent to force of character. If when she admits the physical superiority of men Miss Taylor includes nervous as well as muscular power--if she owns that men in general are stronger than women in general, not merely or principally as a tiger is stronger than a man, but as a man of strong character is stronger than a man of weak character--that men have in a larger measure than women such qualities as determination, independence, self-assertion, and the like--the question between us is one of words, for we mean by moral superiority that which she means by physical superiority coupled with moral equality. If she denies that men are in this sense stronger than women, we not only differ as to the fact, but we repeat that the history of the relation of the sexes is unexplained. It is one which mere superiority of muscular power does not explain. If this had been the only difference between the sexes, women would have held their own against men, just as men with small bones and muscles have held their own against men with large ones.

2. We said that families should be monarchies, the husband being king. Miss Taylor replies that the family is a part of the State, not a type of it.

The answer is that our meaning (as the context showed) was that it was necessary, if marriage was to be permanent and to be recognized by law, that in every household some one should be recognized by law as master and should in case of need have his legal rights enforced by law. If a family had no legal head, it might, as we observed, be broken up by the first serious quarrel between the married persons.

Miss Taylor appears to have understood this, for she goes on to answer it. “I deny that there is any difficulty in the State's intervening to settle the quarrels of the individual members." The husband wishes to live in London. The wife wishes to live in the country. The husband wishes to send the children to church. The wife wishes to send them to chapel. The husband wishes his wife not to receive certain visitors. The wife wishes her husband not to make certain calls. At present it is the wife's legal duty to obey in such matters--that is to say, if she pushed her opposition to the extent of refusing to live with her husband on account of such differences, their existence would put her legally in the wrong, what- ever might be the merits of the particular case. Her husband would have a right to the restitution of conjugal rights. She would have no right to the custody of her children or to pledge her husband's credit after notice from him to persons with whom she might deal. Let us consider how this can be altered. Miss Taylor thinks "the State might intervene" to settle quarrels. She cannot surely mean that a wife might summon her husband to show cause why she should not have a new bonnet, or that a husband might apply for a writ of prohibition to restrain his wife from waltzing; but if this is not intended, the only alternative is the permission of divorce for incompatibility of temper, and our whole argument is and always has been that unless the right of a husband to be master in his house and family is recognized by law, this is what you must of necessity come to. Miss Taylor does not apparently shrink from this conclusion. She says, "The writer seems to think that they" (i.e. married people) "will quarrel so incessantly that they will never be able to keep together. I reply that this is just what will happen with all the men and women unfit for married life, a considerable minority, I suspect, in human nature, of which minority their unhappy partners, whether men or women, will have no objection to be rid." Postponing for the moment what the writer thinks, let us consider what Miss Taylor thinks. She thinks obviously that the facilities now afforded for divorce ought to be widely enlarged, and, as we gather, that whenever a marriage turns out unhappily, which, as she says, would happen in "a considerable minority of cases," divorce should take place.

Certainly she follows out her principles, and so far we are agreed. She admits what we assert; namely, that if the wife is under no legal duty to obey her husband, the law of divorce must be greatly extended. She goes so far as to say that the suggestion that women would be the greatest sufferers from this is a mere bugbear, and her argument is this:-- "He," the writer in the Pall Mall Gazette, " tells us that the present conditions of marriage are favourable to women, and yet he tells us that men have the force to impose their own will upon women. What motive then has induced men to impose such desirable conditions upon women in marriage that if women were free they could get nothing so good for themselves? There can be none, except the attractions of marriage to men; and these attractions, i.e. confidence in women's fidelity, and the certainty of paternity--the two benefits which men gain by marriage--have been found in practice to be ensured exactly in proportion as women are free agents." Of Miss Taylor's enumeration of the "attractions of marriage to men" we cannot say more than that it appears to us to be singularly defective, and we decline to pursue the subject further. As to her argument. You affect, says Miss Taylor in substance, to regard marriage as it is as favourable to women-- more favourable, that is, than marriage dissoluble on the ground of incompatibility of temper would be. If so, and if men are so much stronger than women, as you say, how came they to make a bargain favourable to women? The answer is that under the influence principally of the Christian religion, men and women, both taking a higher view of life and its objects than had previously prevailed, submitted to a system which on the one hand involves obedience on the part of wives to their husbands, and on the other imposes upon men the practical indissolubility of marriage--an obligation which sets a powerful curb upon those passions which would tend and do tend to make men inconstant to their wives. Remove the obligation to obey on the one hand, and the obligation to be constant to one woman on the other, and you release one of the fiercest, strongest, most brutal, and selfish parts of human nature from the only check which protects wives against satiety and the desire of novelty. On the other hand, you give to women a merely imaginary freedom. You enable them to leave their husbands, but you also enable their husbands to leave them, and in all common cases this would give the husband ten times more power over the wife than all the Acts of Parliament about property and earnings that ever could be passed. In -short, the effect of the change suggested would be to multiply jealousy, to destroy tile security of thousands of families, and to increase immorality. As one illustration out of a thousand which might be given of this, consider for one moment the case of that "considerable minority" which, being "unfit for married life," would "have no objection to be rid" of their partners. Suppose all the indifferent and unhappy husbands and wives were turned loose upon the world labelled, "Unfit for married life," would not they themselves, and all whom it might concern, read the label, "Pre-eminently fit for unmarried life," and can any man or any woman who knows what men are otherwise than by books and speculation doubt as to the result?

As for what the writer of the article in question thinks, he thinks that one of the largest classes of human beings is composed of people who, having little original power, are very much what law and custom make them. As to its members, he thinks with Lord Stowell that in innumerable cases the legal necessity of being husbands and wives makes them good husbands and wives, and that the knowledge that the relation between husband and wife is practically indissoluble, and that the husband has a legal right, if need be, to the wife's obedience, settles innumerable questions which might and would ripen into serious quarrels, and possibly into divorces, if the "State intervened to settle" them.

3. Miss Taylor says, "That marriage is the normal condition of women, and that the law must be made therefore with regard only to married women, and can take no note of exceptions, are the last two assertions, classed by the writer as one. I fully agree that marriage is the normal condition of women, as it is of men," and she goes on to argue that the law ought to take notice of exceptions, and to illustrate her argument by examples.

Miss Taylor does not profess to quote our words, and she misapprehends, as it appears to us, the scope of our argument, which was not that the law should "take no note of exceptions," but that it should not be so contrived as to make the exceptional state of life more honourable than the normal one, and so throw a slur on marriage. If you give unmarried women votes and refuse them to married women, you imply that married women are inferior to unmarried women. If to redress this you give votes to married women, you do that which is inconsistent with the theory of marriage commonly accepted. We do not say that Miss Taylor is inconsistent in wishing unmarried women to have votes because she wishes to modify the whole institution of marriage and to increase very greatly the facility of getting divorced; but we do say that those who differ from her upon these latter points are inconsistent in agreeing with her as to the votes of unmarried women. This remark answers all her illustrations. She says, "It is remarkable that so philosophical a writer should have forgotten that the law is generally called into action precisely to settle exceptional conditions. The majority of men neither steal nor embezzle nor murder, nor are victims of those crimes, yet legislation is wanted for the sake of the minority." Law no doubt is generally called into action by exceptional circumstances, but it is made for the sake and in the spirit of the normal part of society. We are all liable to be murdered, and a few of us commit murder. The law of murder is (or ought to be) made for the sake and from the point of view, not of the minority of murderers, but of the majority of possible murderees. So the laws relating to the exercise of the franchise by women ought not to be made to operate as a penalty or slur upon married life, but in the interest of married women.

Miss Taylor begins her letter by saying amongst other things "that the arguments used by the writer are so palpably insufficient to sustain these assertions may no doubt be in part ascribed to the impossibility of sustaining them efficiently in a newspaper article. On any other subject your able writer would be quite capable of seeing this, and would be the first to treat with scorn any one who attempted to compress into such a space conclusive reasonings on the fundamental principles of a topic of a tenth part of the complexity or the importance of this one. That he should think this one so easily disposed of is a curious example of how prejudice blunts the logical faculties." As far as our experience goes, inconclusive reasoning is apt to be longer than conclusive reasoning; perhaps, however, by conclusive Miss Taylor means, as people sometimes do, exhaustive. To this we never pretended. We were certainly never so vain as to suppose that such a subject could be "disposed of" by a remark of ten lines introduced in a discussion of a collateral matter, and afterwards expounded and illustrated in answer to a writer who had consumed six columns in attacking it. We would suggest to Miss Taylor that, as leading articles are not, and cannot be, treatises, and as it is expedient that subjects of importance should be discussed in them, and as it is possible to state important principles shortly and broadly if the person who states them has reflected on the subject of which he writes, and is more or less acquainted with its various bearings, the question whether the short statement of important principles shows that the logical faculties of the writer are blunted depends rather upon the way in which such principles are defended when challenged than on the greater or less space which is filled by their statement Miss Taylor herself makes in about two lines in one part of her letter an assertion as to a matter of fact essential to her argument which it would require volumes to discuss. She says, "The two benefits which men gain by marriage have been found in practice to be ensured exactly in proportion as women are free agents." To sustain this statement it would be necessary to state first how the law as to marriage and divorce in every part of the world stands or ever stood, and, secondly, what effect each variation of it had upon female virtue, due allowance being made for all collateral causes.

Pall Mall Gazette, July 2 and 14, 1868.

Monday, February 27, 2017

The death of Mr. Mill

The news of the death of Mr. Mill will, we hope, be received by the mass of those whom it reaches with much deeper feelings of regret and sorrow than are shown by the short and cold notice of his life which appears this morning in the Times.

We shall not be accused of a blind partiality for Mr. Mill’s opinions, but whatever their faults may have been, he was one of the very greatest writers and thinkers of these days, and he has exercised over the generation to which he belonged an influence second to that of no one of his contemporaries.  He was during the later years of his life by very much the most conspicuous member of a school of thought which, though unpopular, and to many persons not only unattractive but positively repulsive, has practically had the guidance of several of the most important practical departments of life in this country since the beginning of the last century, and especially during the last forty years.  From the days of Locke to the present time the school which practically makes actual sensible experience and the inferences to be drawn from it the one source of our knowledge, which takes utility as the test of morals and therefore of law, and which tends with continually increasing success to weld into one mass our knowledge of physical nature and our acquaintance with the moral world, has had the direction of affairs in this country to an immense and to an increasing extent.  It is perfectly true that there have been reactions against it, that it has never been and in all probability never will be popular, that many very able men have passed their lives in denouncing and attempting to refute it, and that there are controversies of great importance within its limits as to the true nature and application of its principles.   But when all this is said it still continues to be true that if any one wishes to know in what men really believe and in what they really trust, and if in making this inquiry he will be guided by reference to their actual conduct, he will find that in all the more important departments of life the principles of the school of thought in question have for a great length of time been pervading, and do at this moment colour and regulate, most of the more important departments of English public life.  Nearly every one of the principles relating to legislation, trade, government, and the social relations which were contended for by a long succession of writers, from the days of Locke to the days of Mr. Mill, have been adopted and carried into practical effect.  All the alterations made in the law of the land, all the arrangements made about trade, the general spirit of our legislation upon every conceivable subject have been, are, and tend more and more to become what in a very general sense may be called utilitarian and experimental.  No succession of writers ever exercised greater power over the fortunes of this nation, we might say of any nation, than Locke, Hume, Adam Smith, Bentham, and Mr. Mill.  What may be described as the theory of modern life has been thought out by them, and translated into its practical equivalents with a persistency, a precision, a degree of method and calmness unequalled in the history of thought.  We do not say that their results are complete, but we do say that their teaching has been successful to an unexampled degree; and that, however unpopular it may be with ardent and enthusiastic persons, it is impossible to believe that it could have done what it has done without possessing a very strong hold on human nature.

Mr. Mill was the great representative to our generation of this school.  No man had a better right to belong to it.  He was brought up, so to speak, at the feet of Bentham (whose “Rationale of Judicial Evidence” he edited).  He attended Austin’s classes with such zeal that part of his lectures, which had been lost, was reprinted from Mr. Mill’s notes.  From his father’s writings he learned the metaphysical doctrines which underlie all his own writings, and through his father’s connection with the East India Company (a connection pre-eminently creditable to and characteristic of both parties) he entered the East India House at a very early age, and by his position there obtained the opportunities which he employed so effectually for writing his two great works, the treatise on Logic, which was first published when he was thirty-seven years of age, and the treatise on Political Economy, which was first published about five years later.

It is on these works, unless we are much mistaken, that his fame will rest, and whatever may be said as to their dryness or the like, we have no doubt at all that fame will be, as it deserves to be, lasting.  The book on Logic in particular carries one line of thought about as far as it will go.  It leaves nothing, or very little, to be said on the subject to which it relates, and it has the merit, and a great and memorable merit it is, of having set upon a basis of its own the logic of things as distinguished from the logic of words with a degree of solidity and precision which in all probability will never be surpassed. Perhaps the most characteristic parts of the book, certainly the parts which have given it its most lasting and widespread influence, are those illustrations and applications of the method which bear on the great standing problems of metaphysics and morals. The author manages with a degree of skill which may fairly be called unexampled to confine himself strictly to his own subject, to avoid committing himself to a single expression of opinion upon the different topics which he successively touches, and yet to produce an impression in relation to them which can hardly fail to exercise a most powerful influence upon every one who has studied the earlier and more technical parts of the book with intelligence and sympathy. When we consider the extent to which this book has been and is being studied both in this country and in other parts of the world by young men whose minds are in the act of forming themselves, it is probably no exaggeration to say that it deserves to be regarded as one of the most influential works of our days.

In his work on Political Economy Mr. Mill was dealing with a comparatively narrow subject, and one which, at least in its more special and technical applications, was less interesting. The subjects of Production and Exchange in all their forms are dreary to the last degree, and no art can deprive them of that character; but the subject of Distribution (Book III.), and that of the influence of the Progress of Society on Production and Distribution (Book IV.), touch on all the great political and social topics of the day. They appear to us far the best of their author’s political works. They were, if we mistake not, the first, they are certainly the most memorable, of all illustrations of the truth that a political economist need not be the slave of his own theories; that it is one thing to say, “This is the way to get rich," and quite another thing to say, “The one duty of all men everywhere and at all times is to get rich." There are many of Mr. Mill’s theories, especially many of his political and social theories, from which we entirely dissent, but it should always be remembered to his great and lasting honour that he clearly perceived the difference between studying the working of the desire for riches, assuming it to have perfectly free play, and erecting it into the one power by which human affairs ought to be governed.

The two great books by which Mr. Mill’s name will be remembered as long as people take an interest in the intellectual history of our generation were followed after an interval of several years by detached essays on Liberty, on Utilitarianism, and on the Subjection of Women. The doctrines contained in these essays were lately controverted at great length and in full detail in our own columns by a frequent contributor to them. It would grieve us to think that there was a single word, a single expression, or turn of a sentence in the letters to which we refer which their author would wish to modify or recall over Mr. Mill’s grave, but we do not think that any such expression can be found. Mr. Mill would have been the last man in the world to confound dissent, however earnestly expressed, with disrespect or even with the absence of the deepest and most sincere respect and admiration. The author of the letters In question said, “Up to a certain point I should be proud to describe myself as his disciple,” and acknowledged as distinctly as he could the debts which he owed to the subject of his criticisms. He has probably nothing to modify in what he then wrote; though we are sure we speak his mind when we say that such defects as appeared to him to occur in the works in question also appeared to him to be generous errors into which a great and good man was led by a passionately warm and eager temperament, by a love for mankind which he had not sufficiently tempered by the direct experience of actual living men, and, above all, by the unadmitted, perhaps unfelt, defects of the society in which his life was passed. It is impossible to read Mr. Mill’s works with any attention, and in particular to look with intelligence on the later part of his career, without seeing that by temperament he was essentially religious, but that as far as positive doctrine went his mind was an absolute blank. We believe that it was this sharp contrast between theory and feeling which drove him into the schemes for the improvement of the world which have been exposed to so many, and, in some respects, to such well-founded objections. Having to love something, and being, as it were, chained down by his own logic to this world and this life, past, present, and future, he struggled to make a sort of religion out of man as he might come to be after centuries or millenniums. Humanity, progress, a realization of all the ideals at which his theories pointed—these were his divinities, for he was a man who could not do without some divinity, and he could find no other. We do not think that his life or his thoughts were triumphant. If he had consistently followed out his own views, if he had carried out his Benthamism with perfect consistency, the result would have been too hard, too grim, too dismal for his eager and sensitive heart. Hence came the faltering, the inconsistency, the romance of his later days. It is a spectacle which may well humble every one who looks on it with intelligence and sympathy. From us, at least, it shall never draw one word of sarcasm, or one thought which is not full of deep respect, regret, and pity. He bore a burden common to many. If he bent under it, it was not because his strength was less, but because his sensibility was greater. When he died one of the tenderest and most passionate hearts that ever set to work an intellect of iron was laid to rest. May he rest in peace, and find, if it be possible, that his knowledge was less complete than he perhaps supposed, and that there was more to be known than was acknowledged in his philosophy.

Pall Mall Gazette, May 10, 1873.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

The Laws of England as to the Expression of Religious Opinions

Dr. Newman, in his Letter to the Duke of Norfolk about Mr. Gladstone's pamphlet, defends certain doctrines implied in the Syllabus by comparing them with the present state of the law of England. He says: “Mr. Gladstone's accusation of us avails quite as much against Blackstone's four volumes, against laws in general, against the social contract, as against the Pope.” Whether this is true as regards the social contract (in which I do not believe) I do not care. Whether it is true as regards laws in general, is a question which I do not enter upon. That it is perfectly true as against “Blackstone's four volumes” I fully admit. In one part of his argument, Dr. Newman (as I think he usually is) is quite right. He establishes clearly enough (though not, of course, with professional and technical exactness) the proposition that there is some degree of resemblance between one of the doctrines of the Syllabus and part of the law of England. I do not know that he throws much light upon the question, whether in so far as they resemble each other both are right or both wrong. Whatever the Catholics may think of the prerogatives of the Pope, no one certainly thinks of attributing infallibility in any way whatever to the law of England, or to any part of it. That large parts of our law are objectionable upon every kind of ground, and that broad and deep alterations in it must be made before it becomes a fit expression of the deliberate and mature convictions of a great nation on the matters to which it relates, is admitted by everyone. I propose to consider whether this is not the case in regard to the law relating to the expression of opinion on matters of religion.

I am far from being fanatically attached to the common phrases about liberty. I think that the popular theories upon the subject are much too widely stated by their most popular advocates. I do not join in the indignation which is sometimes shown against those who try to deter people from the expression of opinions adverse to Christianity, by denouncing such opinions as dangerous and immoral, and by imposing social penalties on their advocates. I do not see how a sincere believer in Christianity can act otherwise; and I think a sincere disbeliever should either have the discretion to be silent, or the courage to take the inevitable consequence of the expression of opinions at variance with the existing state of things. Moreover, I do not deny that there may be cases in which the maintenance of a particular opinion may be so mischievous to society, or may be so closely connected with breaches of social order, as to call for its suppression by law. Circumstances may be imagined, and have perhaps existed, in which it would be as foolish to allow people to teach that all property is robbery, or to permit them to maintain the Pope's right to depose kings, as to allow people to smoke a pipe in a powder magazine. In short, I have no general doctrine to lay down about persecution, except the obvious one that, for well known reasons, there is a strong presumption against it, which, whenever it is practised, or proposed to be practised, must be overcome by strong special reasons.

Looking at the present question from this point of view, I propose to consider the existing law of England as to the expression of disbelief in natural and revealed religion, and to submit a proposal for its amendment.

The laws which affect this matter in England are reducible to the three following heads:–1. The King's ecclesiastical law as to heresy; 2. The common law as to blasphemy and blasphemous libels; 3. Certain statutes bearing on the same subject, the most important of which is 9 & 10 Will. III. c. 35.

In order to understand these different branches of the law, and their relation to each other, fully, it is necessary to go back to the origin of that legislation against heresy which has played so great a part in the world, and to point out shortly the principal epochs in its history in other countries, as well as in our own. The first legislation against heretics was that of Constantine, who, after the Council of Nice, prohibited the assemblies of the Montanists, and probably the Manichees, and some other heretical sects, and confiscated their property. Many other laws of the same kind were enacted by his successors. They were peculiarlysevere upon the Manichees, who, in more ages of the world than one, would appear to have had a singular power of exciting bitter animosity. The following extracts from Justinian's code are curious in themselves, and set them in a clear light:—
“Manichaeos seu Manichaeas seu Donatistas meritissimä severitate persequimur. Huicitaque hominum generi nihil ex moribus, nihil ex legibus commune sit cum caeteris. Ac primum quidem volumus esse publicum crimen quia quod in religionem divinam committitur in omnium fertur injuriam, quos bonorum etiam omnium publicatione consequimur. Ipsos quoque volumus amoveri ab omni liberalitate et successione quolibet titulo veniente. Praeterea non donandi, non emendi, non vendendi, non postremo contrahendi eniguam convicto relinquimus facultatem. In mortem quoque inquisitio majetatis extendatur. Nam iis in criminibus licet memoriam accusare defuncti non immerito et hic debet subire tale judicium. Ergo et supremaillius scripturo irritabit sive testamento, sive codicilio, sive epistola, sive quolibet alio genere reliquerit voluntatem qui Manichaeus fuisse convincitur.”—(Cod. Lib. 1. Tit. v. iv. v., A.D. 407.)
An edict of 428 went still further :—
“Ariani” (and twenty-eight other sects named) et qui ad imam usque scelerum nequitiam pervenerint Manichaei nusquam in Romanorum locum conveniendi morandique habeant facultatem. Manichæus autem de civitatibus pellendus et ultimo supplicio tradendus quonian his nihil relinquendum loci est in quo ipsis etiam elementis fiat injuria.”
At the fall of the Empire religious controversy shared the fate of other forms of intellectual activity. A long period succeeded the irruptions of the barbarians, in which the crime itself could hardly be said to exist, and in which, therefore, there was no occasion to punish it.

When the speculations of the Arabian philosophers began to influence European theology, heresy revived, and the first great result produced by its revival was the extermination of the Albigenses, the establishment of the Inquisition for the detection and suppression of heresy, and the Imperial legislation of Frederic II. for the same object. [Milman, Hist. Lat. Christ. ii. 238.] Though an Englishman was the commander of the Albigensian crusade, England remained free both from religious war and from the legal machinery contrived for its suppression, In our early history there are a very few faint indications of some sort of proceedings against heretics. Bracton, for instance, mentions a deacon who “apostatavit pro quádam Judaea,” and was burnt in consequence by the sentence of a council at Oxford. Britton has some expressions bearing on the same subject. Mention is made in Hallam's Middle Ages, and elsewhere, of severities inflicted on small bodies of flagellants and other persons, who probably adopted some of the wild heresies common in the 13th century; but these cases are very vague and throw little light on the law.

The case of the apostate who was burnt stands alone, and the other cases indicate rather an irregular exercise of authority, and the effects of popular indignation, than any settled system of persecution. No such system, indeed, existed in this country till the latter end of the 14th century, unless, indeed, the ordinary proceedings of the Ecclesiastical Courts are to be regarded in that light.

The part which these Courts played in the history of the country has been but little understood. In order to appreciate it we must recollect that, till the days of the Lollards, unanimity in religious belief in England was complete. The Jews were the only recognized dissenters, and they were expelled from England in the reign of Edward I. and towards the end of the 13th century. Their return, as is well known, was authorised by Cromwell more than 350 years afterwards. The clergy, moreover, were in possession of almost all the knowledge, an enormous proportion of the property, and the largest share of the political power in the country. Thus the fact that the Spiritual Courts, or Courts Christian as they were called, could not, or rather did not, fine, imprison, or put people to death, in no degree diminished their influence. Spiritual censures in those days required little support from the secular arm. An excommunicated person was like a Hindoo put out of caste. His life became a burden to him, and his punishment was one from which he was glad to escape by submitting to any penance which the clergy chose to inflict. When the most powerful King in Europe, and one of the most vigorous monarchs who ever held rule in England, submitted to be publicly flogged in Canterbury Cathedral, in order to avoid ecclesiastical censures, it is plain enough that the clergy stood in no need of the prison and the gallows to enforce their decrees. Moreover, the clergy, regular and secular, were, as a rule, the only persons who could even read, and over them the power of the Ecclesiastical Courts was complete. From the earliest period, however, the Ecclesiastical Courts were assisted in one important respect by the temporal courts. If an excommunicated person was contumacious, the bishop sent an instrument called a significavit, or notification, to the Chancery, which was the King's officina justitia. Thereupon a writ was issued, called the writ de excommunicato capiendo, upon which the person excommunicated was arrested and imprisoned, till he was reconciled to the Church by penance and absolution. This, however, must in many cases have been unnecessary.

Heresy, apostasy, atheism, blasphemy—every form of dissent from orthodoxy—were always ecclesiastical crimes; and, when it is said that persecution in England began towards the end of the 14th century, all that is meant is that it was not till then that the clergy began to require the support of the civil power, not only in enforcing submission to censures, but in the infliction of superadded temporal punishments. In the course of this article I shall have occasion to return several times to the history of these Courts, and to point out some curious and little-known features in their position.

The first great instance of the calling in of the secular arm in England was in the year 1381. Wycliffe was then dead, but the Lollards had spread their opinions all over England, and the effect was to weaken the moral influence of the clergy to such an extent as to cause them to call for the intervention of the royal power. Accordingly, an Act was passed, 5 Richard II., c. 5 (A.D. 1381). The preamble recites that divers evil persons go from county to county, and town to town, without licence, preaching daily, “not only in churches and churchyards, but also in parkers, fairs, and other open places,” sermons containing heresies. These preachers will not obey the summons of the ordinaries, “nor care for their monitions, nor censures of the Holy Church, but expressly despise them.” It is in consequence ordained that the sheriffs and other ministers of the King, upon a certificate from the bishops, are to arrest all such preachers, “and hold them in arrest and strong prison till they will justify them according to the law and reason of holy Church.” This statute was only a moderate extension of the common law proceeding de excommunicato capiendo. It appears not to have been effective, for in the year 1400 a second statute was passed (2 Hen. IV., c. 15) of a very different character. This statute recites that—
“False and perverse people of a certain new sect, of the faith of the sacraments of the Church, and the authority of the same damnably thinking. - - ... perversely and maliciously preach and teach . . . . divers new doctrines and wicked, heretical, and erroneous opinions . . . . . and the ways of the Church, with the censures of the Church, do utterly contemn and despise.”
It then enacted that no one shall preach without license, or “anything preach, hold, teach, or instruct, openly or privily, or make or write any book contrary to the Catholic faith or determination of the Holy Church.” The Diocesan might try any person suspected according to the Canon Law (what this implied will be seen immediately), and if he refuse to abjure, or relapse, and was “sententially convict so that according to the Canons he ought to be left to the secular court,” he was to be delivered to the sheriff or mayor, who were to attend the Court if required, and who “the same persons after such sentence promulgate shall receive and there before the people in an high place do to be burnt, that such punishment may strike fear in the minds of other.” This was the famous statute de heretico comburendo. It was afterwards strengthened to some extent by an Act, 2 Hen. W. c. 7 (A.D. 1414), the most important provision in which was that justices of the peace might inquire into heresies and commit heretics. Under these provisions various Lollards were burnt in the course of the 15th century, particularly William Sawtre in 1400, William Thorpe in 1409, and Sir John Oldcastle (Lord Cobham) in 1413. [See their cases in 1 State Trials, 163—268. Oldcastle, like Friar Forest, was both hanged and burnt as a traitor and heretic.]

Perhaps the most remarkable point in this famous statute is that it contains no definition whatever of heresy. The matter is left entirely at large, and the ecclesiastical judges could define it as they pleased. They were to a certain slight extent checked in the abuse of this power by the Civil Courts, but the lengths to which they were prepared to go, and the necessity for some check upon them, is shown by two remarkable cases reported by Lord Coke. [Coke's 3rd Institute, p. 42.] John Keyser was excommunicated by the Archbishop of Canterbury for a suit connected with the administration of the goods of a person deceased—a purely temporal matter, though no doubt within the jurisdiction of the Archbishop's Court. Keyser remained excommuicated for eight months, and—
“openly affirmed that the said sentence was not to be feared, neither did he fear it; and albeit the Archbishop or his commissary have excommunicated me, yet before God I am not excommunicated; and he said that he spake nothing but the truth, and so it appeared, for that he the last harvest standing so excommunicate had as great plenty of wheat and other grain as any of his neighbours, saying to them in scorn that a man excommunicated should not have such plenty of wheat.”
For this he was committed to Maidstone Gaol, because, said the Archbishop, “in respect of publishing the said words: Dictum Johannem non immerito habemus de harrest suspectum.” The Court of King's Bench released him on Habeas Corpus, considering “upon mature deliberation and upon conference with divines,” that for such words Keyser was not to be suspected of heresy. Afterwards William Warner was imprisoned by the Bishop of London because he “held opinion and published quod non temebatur solvere aliquas decimas curatori sire ecclesia parochali ubi inhabitabat.” Warner sued the Bishop for false imprisonment, and recovered judgment against him—I hope with exemplary damages, but that does not appear.

The law stood thus till the Reformation, when the legislation of Henry VIII. put the whole subject of the punishment of heresy upon a new basis. It seems to me that from want of attention to the legal view of the subject the effect of his legislation has often been misunderstood. His first Act on the subject— 25 Hen. VIII., c. 14 (A.D. 1533), which repealed 2 Hen. IV. c. 15, and confirmed 5 Richard II., c. 5, and 2 Hen. W., c. 7.-did not abolish the practice of burning for heresy; but, instead of leaving the initiative to the ecclesiastical judge, it provided that lay persons should be empanelled to present heretics to the ordinary on oath. Upon such presentments, which were to be founded upon the oaths of two witnesses, the ordinary might proceed to conviction and burning. But the Act recited that—
“It is not reasonable that any ordinary, by any suspicion conceived of his own fantasie, without due accusation or presentment, should put any subject of this realm in the infamy and slander of heresy to the peril of life, loss of name and goods.” 
The Act did not define heresy positively, but declared negatively (with great verbosity) that—
“No manner speaking, doing communication, or holding against the said Bishop of Rome, or his pretended power or authority, &c., &c., or against any laws called spiritual laws made by authority of the See of Rome by the policy of men, &c., &c., shall be deemed, reputed, accepted, or taken to be heresy.”
The effect of this statute was that hardly anything could be affirmed about heresy, except that it was not heresy to deny the doctrines of the Roman Catholics.

This explains, in some measure, the famous Act of the six articles, 31 Hen. VIII. c. 14 (A.D. 1538). This Act lays down six opinions upon transubstantiation, and other subjects. Those who erred about transubstantiation were to be burnt as heretics, and those who erred on the other subjects to be hanged as felons. I may observe in passing that when this statute was passed Henry VIII. stood between the clergy on the one side, who, by the law as he found it, could define heresy at pleasure, and burn everyone who fell within their definition, and the body of the people, who were divided between furious supporters and at least as furious opponents of the clergy. A policy of absolute indifference, like that which we follow in India between Mahommedans and Hindoos, was impossible on every ground, but especially because there was no power to enforce it. If the heresy was to be a crime it had to be defined, and if it was to be defined and punished by law it was far better that the King should make the law, and inflict the punishment, than that it should be left to the clergy or to popular fanaticism to discharge that office. Henry VIII.'s definition of heresy was absurd enough, and everyone was interested in pointing out its absurdity; but any other definition would have been equally absurd, and it was difficult to do altogether without one. Some alterations in procedure were made by this Act, which it is not necessary to specify.

The whole of the ecclesiastical legislation of Richard II., Henry IV., Henry V., and Henry VIII., was repealed by 1 Edward VI., c. 12. Mary revived the Acts of Richard II., Henry IV., and Henry W.; and it was under their powers that the great persecution inseparably associated with her name took place. The only remark which they call for here is that Mary tried to carry into force and give full effect to the ancient ecclesiastical laws of the country, reinforced by the statutes made against the Lollards, as it was necessary that they should be if they were not to fall into desuetude. The horror which the attempt produced, the exaggerated odium which has ever since attached to “bloody Mary,” the fierceness of the flame, never to be put out, which her faggots lighted in England, are no doubt exaggerated and misdirected, in so far as they have for their object a pious, narrow-minded woman who meant well; but they are neither exaggerated nor misplaced, in so far as they have for their object the claims of the clergy to be the stewards and dispensers of divine, immutable truth. If they were what they said they were, they were right to persecute. When regarded on their principles it became quite clear that they were not what they said they were.

Elizabeth's first Act on coming to the throne was to reverse absolutely the whole policy of her sister. By the memorable Act “to Restore to the Crown the Ancient Jurisdiction over the Estate Ecclesiastical and Spiritual,” 1 Eliz. c. 1. (A.D. 1558), the three Acts of Richard II., Henry IV., and Henry V., were repealed (s.15), and the Queen was invested with power to institute what was afterwards known as the High Commission Court, “to visit, reform, redress, order, correct, and amend all such heresies, schisms, abuses, offences, contempts, and enormities whatsoever, which by any manner of spiritual or ecclesiastical power, authority, or jurisdiction,” could be dealt with in any way. Almost the only limitation put upon the Commissioners was that they were not to
“determine or adjudge any matter or cause to be heresy, but only such, as have heretofore been determined, ordered, or adjudged to be heresy by the authority of the Canonical Scriptures, or by the first four General" Councils, or any of them, or by any other General Council, wherein the same was declared heresy by the express and plain words of the said Canonical Scriptures.” 
The effect of this Act was to establish a court, arbitrary and, high-handed no doubt, but infinitely less formidable than the  bishops and archbishops' Courts in the 15th century, and restricted, by the negative definition of heresy quoted above, within much narrower limits as to the opinions which they might condemn. Moreover, it must have been understood in Elizabeth's time that the repeal of the statutes against the Lollards had put an end to the punishment of death for heresy. No one in this reign suffered merely for his opinions. With all her weaknesses and faults, the Queen had very little bigotry in her nature, and persecuted no doctrines except those which either attacked her person or her power, or disturbed, or were supposed to be likely to disturb, the public peace. If her reign could not be described as tolerant, her intolerance was at least worldly and practical. It aimed at the temporal prosperity of the nation, not at securing their orthodoxy.

James I., with many fine qualities, for which he has received no credit, had a taste for theology, and a delight in playing the part of a local Pope of an improved and modernized pattern. He piqued himself on his orthodoxy, and in particular took occasion to play a leading part in condemning and burning an Arian, or, as we should now call him, a Unitarian, whose opinions gave great scandal at the time. This was a man named Legatt, whose “damnable tenets,” twelve in number, caused him to be tried by the Bishop of London in his Consistory Court. [“Bartholomew Legatt, native county Essex, person comely, complexion black. age about forty years, of a bold spirit, confident carriage, fluent tongue, excellently skilled in the Scriptures. His conversation, for aught I can learn to the contrary, was very unblamable.”—(Fuller, printed in 2 S. T. 727.)] He was duly convicted, and declared “an obdurate, contumacious, and incorrigible heretic.” This conviction the Bishop certified into the Chancery, and thereupon King James, who had done his best to convict Legatt by arguments of his own, and had failed, issued a writ de heretico comburendo, although the statute of 2 Henry IV. had been repealed fifty-four years before. Some of the judges (Lord Coke dissenting, [See 12 Coke, Rep. 93 & 56.] as I think most persons would now admit, on conclusive grounds) advised the King that the writ could issue at common law, and apart from the statute. Legatt accordingly, “refusing all mercy, was burnt to ashes.” The same course was taken about the same time with one Wightman, at Lichfield. It would be difficult to find any executions in the whole history of England more illegal, and in every way more shameful than these. The Marian persecutions were legal, and were in the nature of a serious act of war. Elizabeth's severities were inflicted for serious political reasons. Legatt and Wightman were burnt illegally, without the shadow of a political reason for it, solely in order to gratify theological bitterness and royal vanity. They were the last victims of the writ de heretico comburendo. The writ itself, and all proceedings upon and connected with it, was finally abolished by the 29th Charles II., c. 9 (A.D. 1678), from which time capital punishment for heresy, whether by statute or common law, has been unknown in England. [Not in Scotland. See Aikenhead's case (A.D. 1696), 13 St. Tri. 917, &c. The case is also referred to in Lord Macaulay's History of England. The statutes under which Aikenhead suffered (he was hanged) were repealed by the statute referred to below. 55 Geo. III. c. 160 (A.D. 1813).] The Act which abolished this writ contained the following remarkable clause:—
“Nothing in this act shall extend or be construed to take away or abridge the jurisdiction of Protestant archbishops or bishops, or any other judges of any Ecclesiastical Courts, in cases of atheism, blasphemy, heresy, or schism, and other damnable doctrines and opinions, but that they may proceed to punish the crime according to His Majesty's ecclesiastical laws by excommunication, deprivation, degradation, and other ecclesiastical censures not extending to death, in such sort and no other as they might have done before the making of this Act.”
The unwritten ecclesiastical law as to heresy remains to this day in the state in which it was left by this statute. In order to appreciate its practical importance, it is necessary to go back to a state of things which is now forgotten, but which exercised a much more powerful influence on English history than many events which are much better remembered. I refer to the ordinary jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Court as it stood before the year 1640.

Students of law reports frequently come across statements that this or that is a matter of “ecclesiastical concern,” or a matter “merely spiritual.” Such, for instance, till the year 1855, would have been the proper mode of describing all defamation by words only which did not impute crime, &c., to the person defamed. The same is the case in the present day with all sexual immorality (with one or two exceptions) such as fornication and incest. Such expressions are in the present day practically equivalent to saying that the acts in question, however immoral, are not in the legal sense criminal. They are, however, vestiges of a state of things which can still be described, and which in its time was of the utmost importance.

From the very commencement of English history, down to the year 1640, England was covered with Ecclesiastical Courts, as indeed it still is. No one in these days is made aware of their existence, as since the establishment of the Probate Courts they have hardly anything to do of the least importance. Anciently, they were like modern Police Courts, presided over by college tutors. If we imagine all England to be one vast college, with tutors and deputy-tutors in the shape of the judges of Ecclesiastical Courts, dotted all over it at convenient intervals, charged with the duty of “convening” every one, no matter what might be his religious opinions or position in life, who used improper language, got drunk, was guilty of immorality in any of its forms, or showed the slightest disrespect in act or word to any ecclesiastical institution, or who did not go to church, or take the communion at proper intervals, we shall have a very complete idea of the old Ecclesiastical Courts. We must, however, understand their procedure in order to appreciate their full character. They proceeded in three ways—by accusation, denunciation, or inquisition ex officio. “Accusation” was where a specified accuser “promoted the office of the judge”—i.e., instituted proceedings in his own name. “Denunciation” was where the judge proceeded on information given him by a person who did not (as the accuser did) make himself responsible for what he said. This mode of accusation, since the canons of 1603, can now be practised only by ministers' churchwardens under the name of Presentment, and has therefore become obsolete. “Inquisition ex officio’’ was where the judge, on his own knowledge or suspicion, convened or cited the party before him. On doing so, he had the right to administer to him an oath, called the ea officio oath, “to make true answer to such questions as should be demanded of him.” The accused was then questioned as to his guilt. If he refused to answer, he was in contempt. If he swore falsely, he committed perjury. If he admitted any guilt whatever, penance was enjoined, and in case of obedience he was absolved. If he was contumacious he was excommunicated, and if the excommunication was signified by the bishop to the Chancery, a writ de excommunicato capiendo might issue, on which he would be imprisoned till he submitted.

Thus, with milder punishments and smaller powers, the Ecclesiastical Courts were an Inquisition. The system lasted in full vigour down to the year 1640, with an interruption, as it would seem, of about nine years (1546 to 1554), in the time of Edward VI. I believe it to have been one of the main causes of the passionate hatred with which the bishops and the clergy were regarded by the people at large in Charles the First's time. The Courts of High Commission and Star Chamber were, in fact, only specimens on the largest scale of what went on in every part of England. Laud's famous determination that “the discipline of the Church should be seen and felt, as well as talked of.” was indeed no more than a determination to execute strictly, and on high and low alike, a law which must have been odious beyond conception. It is difficult now to realize, by an act of the imagination, a state of things in which the archdeacon or his official had a right to send for any one in his jurisdiction, and to examine him upon oath as to his chastity, his sobriety, or his religious opinions; but we have conclusive evidence that this was the daily business of the Ecclesiastical Courts. The preceding account is condensed from an extremely curious book, which attracted far less attention than it deserved, by the late Archdeacon Hale. [A Series of Precedents and Proceedings in Criminal Cases extending from the Year 1475 to 1640, Extracted from Act-books of Ecclesiastical Courts in the Diocese of London, Illustrative of the Discipline of the Church of England. To which is prefixed an Introductory Essay by William Hale, M.A., Archdeacon of London. Rivington, 1847.]

The introductory essay describes the Courts. The precedents are, in fact, a journal of their proceedings. Both the one and the other contains abundance of matter curious and interesting to the last degree. I will make a few extracts, which show the character of the system. Archdeacon Hale's collections range over 165 years. I will take an illustration or two from different parts of this period. A very large proportion of the offences consisted of acts of immorality. Thus:—“Johannes Godwin adulteravit cum eaclem Rosa Williamson et erat deprehensus cum eådem per aliam mulierem et habet uxorem satis venustam.” Rosa Williamson was the cause of six convictions, four of the parties being priests. [A.D. 1489]

A certain Cecilia, “moram trahens apud le Pewterpote,” was accused of improper conduct with one Beucham. She brought compurgators who swore that she was innocent. Beucham said he was married to her. She on the other hand declared, that two years before
“In mente suá erat determinata eum habere in virum suum, eteå intentione eum diligebat et non aliter, nec pro aliqua alià causā; sed dicit quod jam non ita bene eum diligit pro eo quod prodigaliter se habet in suis expensis, et in illicitis ludis expendit pecunias suas—viz.: at the dise et the cardis.”

Nicholas Calff and Ralph Hustin conspired to call priests by very indecent names:–“Etiam sic dicendo.—‘I wold ther never a prest in England.’” They were acquitted. Johannes Bowkyn, “Cobbelyr fovet opiniones hereticas tenendo candelam in manu suâ et dicendo—“As this candill doyth vaad, and gooeth out, lykwyse my soolle shall goo, and assend to hevyn,” which seems a very odd opinion. One Elenor Dulok, among other things, expressed a wish “utinizavit (I suppose from utinam) se fuissein inferno quamdiu Deus erit in coelo ut potuisset uneis infernalibus vindicare se de quédam Johanne Gybbes mortuo.” James Aunseter was admonished, under pain of excommunication, not to let his servants be rude to his wife (to whom he was unfaithful). Michael Mumford said to his parish clergyman, “Leve thy preaching, for it is nott worth a -----.” [P. 83. A.D. 1509. The blank is in the original, so that it will never be known what the defendant thought of the sermons.] Cases of bigamy are of frequent occurrence, and there are others (mostly involving immorality) which would now be prosecuted in the ordinary courts. Profane oaths, drunkenness, and Sabbath-breaking were continually prosecuted. One of the strangest cases of all is against a curate, who committed the double offence of absenting himself from a procession to go and see people hung, [P. 136. A.D. 1554. Tempore processionis presens fuit in publico spectaculo apud Tybourne dum quidam transgressorcs . . . mortem subierunt.”] and observing that “yt grieveth him to hear confessions, specially when any person uttereth—any particular matter—sounding to fylthyness.” The cases do not appear to have diminished in frequency as long as the system lasted. Between November, 1639, and November, 1640, there were 30 sittings in the Court of the Archdeacon of London, the number of causes being more than 2,500. They were of much the same character as in earlier times. Thus, on the 18th January, 1630, John Strutt, Joseph Bridge, Joanne Goodman, and Amy Thorpe got drunk at William Chaundlin's ale-house. Strutt went to sleep in the fields, and did not get to evening church at all. Joanne Goodman went to church, but “lay down at the end of the chancell, and there lay asleep till the latter end of the sermon.” Robert Lincoln countenanced his brother Charles in incontinence, and dissuaded him from marrying a woman whom the clergyman thought he ought to marry; moreover, he “scandalously abused the parson” in language which need not be reproduced, but which was not unnatural, considering what sort of a sister-in-law the clergyman wanted to inflict upon him. Practical joking was a crime in these Courts. Two women were prosecuted for going into a man's room “with intent to sew him up in a sheet.” One of the latest presentments of all shows how unspeakably unpopular such proceedings must have been. “John King was prosecuted November 7, 1639, for refusing to let the churchwardens into his house (an inn) on Sunday, when they came to search for company in time of Divine Service.”

Discipline of this sort is possible, and, as the experience of Scotland and other countries has shown, it is not necessarily unpopular when the power is in the hands of a body of elders and ministers who really represent the convictions of the people. In England, however, it is a wonder that people submitted to its exercise as long and as patiently as they did, when it was exercised by a body of men whose leaders ostentatiously claimed the very same sort of powers as those which had been denied to the Roman Catholic clergy, and the claim of which had led to their downfall, and that upon a title which rested on less plausible grounds.

The illustrations which I have given, will perhaps throw new light on the utterances of one of the last victims of the Star Chamber, who—
“Began to thunder it out against the bishops, and told them that they required three oaths of the King's subjects—namely, the oath of churchwardenship, and the oath of canonical obedience, and the oath of office, which are all against the law of the land, and by which they deceive and perjure thousands of the King's subjects in a year.”—(3 S. T., 1325.)
The development given to the system by the Courts of High Commission and Star Chamber in Charles the First's time, was fatal to it, to him, and to his principal Ministers, as the most familiar passages in our history show. The exact legal results of the legislation of that time are less clearly understood than their general effect. These results were as follows:—The Act of 1640 (16 Charles I., c. 11), which abolished the Court of High Commission, and the oath ex officio also provided (s. 4), in very broad words, that no Ecclesiastical Court should inflict any “pain, penalty, fine, amercement, imprisonment, or other corporal punishment” on anybody, for anything whatever. This swept away the whole coercive authority of the Ecclesiastical Courts over laymen, and left to them only whatever influence their spiritual censures might give them, and I think it is to be wished that the matter had been left on that footing. It was, however, not so left. On the Restoration, an Act was passed (13 Charles II., c. 12, A.D. 1661), which restored their “ordinary power and authority” to the Ecclesiastical Courts, and enabled them to use all “censures and coercions” which they might have used before 1640. The High Commission Court, and the ex officio oath, only were not to be revived. I have already pointed out the care with which this jurisdiction was reserved to the Ecclesiastical Courts when the writ de heretico comburendo was abolished by statute.

Summing up the whole of this long story, the result is that the Ecclesiastical Courts have to this day power to proceed criminally against any person whatever, clerical or lay, Protestant, Catholic, infidel, Jew, or anyone else—
“In cases of atheism, blasphemy, heresy, or schism, and other damnable doctrines and opinions, and they may proceed to punish the crime according to His Majesty's ecclesiastical laws, by excommunication, deprivation, degradation, and other ecclesiastical censures not extending to death.”
Mere nonconformity, (going to chapel instead of church) is no doubt protected by the Toleration Act (1 Will. and Mary, c. 18), and the subsequent statutes, which extend its benefits to persons who were at first excluded from them; but the Toleration Act does not do away with the crime of heresy. Its object is much narrower. The preamble is in these words:–
“Forasmuch as some ease to scrupulous consciences in the exercise of religion may be an effectual means to unite their Majesty's Protestant subjects in interest and affection.”
And it then goes on to enact that everyone, with certain exceptions (removed by subsequent legislation), who will take certain oaths, is to be freed from the penalties of certain statutes enumerated in the second section. I cannot find a word or an expression in it which tends to narrow or in any way affect the unwritten ecclesiastical law about heresy, or which would prevent the Courts from taking cognizance of the “damnable doctrines and opinions” specified in the 29 Charles II., s. 2. [A faint doubt on this subject is suggested by Sir Robert Phillimore, Eccles. Law, 108, 4] The inference appears to be that the publication of any opinions which could be described as heretical, atheistical, or blasphemous, might be prosecuted in an Ecclesiastical Court and punished by excommunication. To take an instance, which can offend no one, as the author is dead : I think that Mr. Mill might have been prosecuted and excommunicated for his three Essays on Religion. It is natural to ask what would be the consequence of excommunication? Why should anyone fear it who is not a Christian The answer is, because the Court can order the party to pay costs, and can enjoin upon him the performance of penance; or, as an alternative, imprisonment not exceeding six months, until the penance is performed, and costs paid, and their judgment can be executed by a writ de ex communicato capiendo. This can be done under 53 George III., c. 127, ss. 2 & 3. The object of this Act was to modernize the procedure of the Ecclesiastical Courts. It abolished excommunication as a mode of enforcing civil process, and substituted a writ de contumace capiendo for the old writ de excommunicato capiendo; but it carefully preserved the power of the Court to excommunicate in definitive sentences, and whilst it abolished all the other civil disabilities which formerly attached to excommunication (e. g., a person excommunicated could not sue) [Comyn's Digest, Excommengement.]  it substituted the power of inflicting six months' imprisonment as a mode of compelling compliance with the order of the Court to do penance. There are, no doubt, cases—as for instance prosecutions against clergymen—where this might be proper, and these cases were more likely to occur in 1813 than at present. The Ecclesiastical Courts then, and long afterwards, took cognizance of defamation, and now and then of gross immorality, such as incest. Their jurisdiction as to defamation was taken away by 18 & 19 Vict., c. 41 (A.D. 1855). [In the year 1849 or 1850, when I was at Cambridge, a man was ordered to do penance in a white sheet, in Fen Ditton Church, for some scandal which he had uttered about (I think) the clergyman. He blacked his face, got drunk, and went into church with a crowd of other drunken people, who pelted the clergyman back to his house with hassocks and Prayer-books amongst other things.”] The power might be meant to apply to such cases; but be this as it may, the incidental effect of this statute appears to me to be that Mr. Mill might have been called upon to retract publicly the opinions contained in his book, under pain of six months' imprisonment. The living authors who might be proceeded against in the same way, are numerous and well-known, but it would be invidious to name them.

A person accused of such an offence before an Ecclesiastical Court would be entitled to one defence, which it would not be be very satisfactory to urge. It is a principle of law that the jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Courts does not extend to anything which is a temporal offence, and they might be restrained by prohibition from entertaining any charge which amounted to a charge of a temporal offence. Now, there can be no doubt that a large proportion of the offences of which the Ecclesiastical Court could take cognizance, as heresy, blasphemy, or atheism, would constitute crimes at common law. If, therefore, a person cited before an Ecclesiastical Court could convince one of the Courts at Westminster that he was accused of an offence for which he could be tried by a jury at the Old Bailey, the Ecclesiastical Court would be prohibited from proceeding in the case. However effective practically this right to pass from the frying-pan into the fire is, it is not a natural nor quite a satisfactory way of being protected against persecution.

I will now proceed to consider the provisions of the common and statute law as to the expression of religious opinions. The first statute now in force which bears upon the subject, and which treats the expression of a religious opinion as a temporal crime, is (I am disposed to think) older than the common law on the subject. It is the 1st Edward VI., c. 1, (A.D. 1547), and is entitled “An Act against such as shall unreverently speak against the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ, commonly called the Sacrament of the Altar, and for the receiving thereof in both kinds.” The last part of it, as to the receiving of the Sacrament in both kinds, is practically superseded by the Prayer-book and the 30th Article of Religion, which forms part of the Act of Uniformity. The first part, after setting forth at great length the King's anxiety for religious concord, “the great and highe mysteryes” of the Sacrament, and much else, enacts that whoever “shall deprave, despise, or contemn the said most blessed Sacrament in contempt thereof, by any contemptuous words, or by any words of depraving, despising, or reviling,” or “shall advisedly in any other wise contemn, despise, or revile the said most blessed Sacrament contrary to the effect and declaration aforesaid” (i.e., the theological statements in the preamble) “shall suffer imprisonment of his or their bodies, and make fine and ransom at the King's will and pleasure.”

The offence may be tried at the Quarter Sessions, and the justices are in such cases to issue a writ to the bishop of the Diocese, requiring him to attend personally, or by his chancellor, Or some other deputy, to advise him on the trial of the offender. Offenders are to be prosecuted within three months.

 It is a curious proof of the extreme scrupulousness of the Statute Law Revision Commissioners, that they did not venture to include this amongst the obsolete statutes, which it is their duty to repeal. It is duly printed as a statute, still in force in the revised edition of the Statutes. After much experience of Courts of Quarter Session, I think the justices would be as much surprised at having to try such a case, as the bishop at being cited to come and advise them.

The next point to be noticed is the common law upon the subject of blasphemy and blasphemous libel. The common opinion as to the common law is that it is a system of immemorial antiquity, and no doubt certain parts of it are as old as English history. Of course, however, the great bulk of it as we now know it, consists of judicial decisions. These rest for the most part on principles which were always accepted, but have been gradually extended as they had to be applied to new states of fact; but there are some cases in which the judges have taken upon themselves distinctly and unequivocally legislative power—in which they have made law under pretence of declaring it. I know of no instance in which this has been done so boldly as in the case of the law as to blasphemy and blasphemous libel.

As I have already shown, blasphemy was regarded down to the year 1640 as a matter of ecclesiastical concern. There are numerous instances of prosecutions for it in Archdeacon Hale's precedents, and the Act of Charles II., abolishing the writ de heretico comburendo, puts the power of the Ecclesiastical Courts in this matter beyond a doubt. In days when Arians were liable to be burnt, a person who denied the authority of the Scriptures, the truth of the gospel history, or the being of God, would have been treated as a heretic of the very worst kind, and dealt with accordingly. [The Reformatio Legum Ecclesiasticarum, was published in 1571. It was written in the reign of Edward VI., and was intended as an ecclesiastical code to supersede the hopeless mass of canons, &c., which are still called the King's Ecelesiastical Laws. It met the fate of most attempts at codification in this country, but it is interesting as showing what was then understood to be the law. Its second head relates to heresy, the origin of which is ascribed to Satan. The first place amongst heretics is thus alloted: “In quo genere teterrimi illi sunt qui sacras Scripturas ad infirmorum tantum hominum debilitatem ablegant et detrudunt.” Claiming for themselves “peculiaren quendam spiritum a quo sibi omnia suppeditari."] Some of the German sects had made considerable advances towards such opinions, but they did not become common in England till near the end of the 17th century. The first instance of a prosecution for blasphemy as a temporal offence with which I am acquainted, is the case of James Naylor, the Quaker, who acted rather the part of a madman than a blasphemer, in Bristol, in 1656. It is remarkable that he was tried and punished, not by any ordinary tribunal, though the Courts of the Protector were distinguished for their ability, and were not likely to be indulgent to blasphemy, but by a committee of the House of Commons, by whose orders he was cruelly whipped, burnt in the tongue, and imprisoned for three years, when he recanted, and admitted in effect that he had been mad. The case goes to show that blasphemy was not regarded at that time as an offence known to the ordinary courts of justice. [The proceedings against Naylor are reported in 5 S. T., 801. R. v. Atwool (A.D. 1616), Cro. Jac. 421, is referred to by Starkie as an earlier case; but the report is miserably poor, it is ambiguous, and the marginal note seems to contradict the text. Moreover, it does not state the conclusion at which the Court arrived, and the words charged seem rather seditious than blasphemous.]

Another occasion on which the question would appear to have been mooted, had reference to the first great English writer, so far as I know, who incurred the suspicion of atheism—Hobbes. It is stated in Somers's Tracts that—
 “In 1666 the House of Commons entertained a Bill to punish atheism and profaneness, the penalties of which were distinctly understood to be levelled against Hobbes, whose book of the Leviathan and de cive had excited great and just reprehension.”—(Vol. vii., 373.)
In reference to this, Hobbes published a pamphlet (printed in Somers's Tracts, and in the 4th volume of Sir W. Molesworth's edition of his English works) called “An Historical Narrative Concerning Heresy and the Punishment Thereof.” which is in every respect admirably written. Whether on account of his arguments, or upon other grounds, the Bill was laid aside.

The creation by the temporal courts of the crime of blasphemy was of somewhat later date, and was part of a policy which the Court of King's Bench deliberately followed in the reign of Charles II. Its nature is indicated in the case of Sir Charles Sedley in 1663. When drunk, Sedley conducted himself in a most disgusting manner in Covent Garden. For one thing, “he stripped himself naked, and with eloquence preached blasphemy to the people.” The judges upon this told him—
“Yet notwithstanding there was not then any Star Chamber, yet they would have him know that the Court of King's Bench was the custos morum of all the king's subjects, and that it was then high time to punish such profane actions committed against all modesty, which were as frequent as if not only Christianity but morality also had been neglected.”—(17 S. T., 155, and see 1 Keble, 620.)
It is impossible not to approve of the action of the Court in this case, but in order to justify its conduct, it laid down a principle capable of the most formidable extension. Nor did the judges fail to extend it as opportunity occurred. Some years afterwards [In 1676. See 3 Keble, 607.] a man named Taylor was convicted upon an information for applying vile language to Jesus Christ and for saying (inter alia) that religion was a cheat.

Lord Hale said that such words were not only an offence against God but a crime against the law; that Christianity is parcel of the laws of England, and therefore to reproach the Christian religion is to speak in subversion of the law. This doctrine, which has acquired great celebrity, has been repeated and acted upon in many later cases. The expression has hardly any specific meaning, and may at pleasure be either so much contracted as to mean little or nothing, or so much expanded as to give the ordinary courts of common law a censorship over all publications on religious subjects. It must also be observed that even if Christianity (however we understand the word) is part of the law of the land, it does not follow that the denial of its truth should be forcibly prevented, for the law of the land may, and notoriously does, require alteration in many particulars, and is in many instances founded on errors of different kinds. To point out those particulars and the proper way of reforming them is not a crime, but a laudable action.

It is difficult to give an accurate notion of the manner in which Lord Hale's principle has been applied, without going through the different cases which have been decided upon the subject. [A full abstract of those which had been decided up to 1838 is to be seen in 2 Starkie on Slander, p. 129-154. The decisions since that time have been very few.]  Such a review would be out of place here, and could hardly fail to be wearisome. Moreover, I doubt whether any branch of the slaw is in such a fluid condition. The earlier cases are miserably reported. For instance, the report of “R. v. Taylor,” in Keble, in which Lord Hale is said to have decided that Christianity was “parcel of the law,” consists of a few lines, which read like, and obviously are, a hasty note of a judgment of some length. The later cases are all, with one or two exceptions, cases tried by single judges, whose views of the law have to be gathered from their directions to the jury. So far as I am aware, there are only two cases in which the matter has been discussed in banco, and the principles laid down on those occasions were exceedingly narrow, and were strictly confined to the special circumstances of the cases under consideration.

The fair result of the different cases may, I think, be expressed somewhat as follows:—
1. The application of abusive language to God, Jesus Christ, the Bible, Christianity in general, and perhaps to some other persons and things which are the objects of reverence amongst Christians, is a crime.
2. Language which would be criminal under (1), does not cease to be criminal merely because it is mixed up with and forms part of a serious argument against the truth of Christianity, or any Christian doctrine.
3. The question whether the simple denial of the truth of the doctrines of natural or revealed religion without the use of abusive or indecent language is or is not criminal at common law may possibly admit of some doubt. There is abundance of authority in favour of the affirmative, but it might perhaps be argued with fairness that much of the language used by the various judges who have tried cases of this character, was not necessary to the decision of the matters before them, and that the principles stated above, and numbered (1) and (2), are really wide enough to cover most, though not all of the convictions which have taken place from time to time for offences of this nature. It is not at all unlikely that in consideration of the strong feeling of the day in favour of practically unlimited freedom of discussion, judges might feel justified in leaving to the jury the question whether the object of the publication was serious and bond-side discussion, or mere verging upon, and not unlikely to produce, a breach of the peace. I think that the general current of legal authority is as much opposed to this course as the general current of public opinion would be in its favour, but the case is eminently one of those in which the judges practically legislate ex post facto, by declaring the law upon the particular cases in which its application is required. It must, however, be observed that in whatever degree the common law recedes the unwritten ecclesiastical law would advance. To deny the truth of the Christian history, or the fundamental propositions of natural religion in language perfectly unobjectionable, and in the most complete good faith, is, beyond all question, heresy, whether it is or is not blasphemy or blasphemous libel at common law. If it is a crime at common law, the Ecclesiastical Court would be restrained from inquiring into it. If it is not, I do not see what is to prevent anyone who publishes such opinions, whatever his religion, his race, or his education may be, from being cited before an Ecclesiastical Court, and there enjoined to do penance and retract, or suffer six months' imprisonment.

This view of the existing law must be completed by reference to a statute which contains very much the most precise and definite provisions on the subject to be found in the whole range of the law. This is the Act 9 & 10 William III., c. 35, which is as follows:—
“Whereas, many persons have of late openly avowed and published many blasphemous and impious opinions contrary to the doctrines and principles of the Christian religion greatly tending to the dishonour of Almighty God, and may (sic) prove destructive to the peace and welfare of the kingdom. Wherefore, for the more effectual suppressing of the said detestable crimes, be it enacted, that if any person or persons having been educated in, or at any time having made profession of the Christian religion within this realm, shall by writing, printing, teaching, or advised speaking deny any one of the persons of the Holy Trinity to be God, or shall assert or maintain there are more Gods than one, or shall deny the Christian religion to be true; or the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be of divine authority,” he shall, upon conviction, for the first offence “be adjudged incapable, and disabled in law . . . . to have or enjoy any office or offices, employment or employments, ecclesiastical, civil, or military, or any part in them, or any profit or advantage appertaining to them, or any of them.”

And he is also to forfeit any office which he holds at the time of his conviction. In case of a second conviction the person convicted—
“shall from thenceforth be disabled to sue, prosecute, plead, or use any action or information in any court of law or equity, or to be guardian of any child, or executor or administrator of any person, or capable of any legacy or deed of gift, or to bear any office, civil or military, or benefice ecclesiastical, for ever within this realm; and shall also suffer imprisonment for the space of three years, without bail or mainprize from the time of such conviction.” 
By the 55 George III. c. 160 (A.D. 1813) this Act “so far as relates to persons denying as therein-mentioned respecting the Holy Trinity,” was repealed, and the expression of Unitarian opinions ceased to be a crime. The rest of the statute, however, is at this day in full force, and might at any moment be applied to any one who denies the Divine authority of the Bible, or the truth of the Christian religion, in private conversation. Persons convicted under this provision would do well to keep silence upon such subjects for the future, unless they see their way to a change of their opinions, for the Court has no power, on a second conviction, to mitigate the judgment to be pronounced against them. Civil disabilities of the most ruinous kind and three years imprisonment must be their lot. Minimum punishments in nearly every case are now exploded in the ordinary course of English criminal justice. For every common offence—except only treason, murder, and certain crimes which I need not specify—the Court may, if so minded, award a single day's imprisonment, or less. In most cases, two years' imprisonment is the maximum which can be given, but for the most temperate admission made in private conversation—say by a father to a son—of disbelief in the Divine authority of Scripture, nothing less than three years' imprisonment, and civil infamy can upon a second conviction be awarded by law.

I am not aware that this Act has ever been put in force, but it has been treated by the judges as imposing cumulative penalties upon what was already an offence at common law, and it may perhaps be taken as a statutory indication of the meaning of the dictum, that Christianity is part of the law of the land. Lord Wynford made some remarks on it in 1822, which are worth quoting as an explanation of its objects. Its object, he said, is—
“to give security to the Government by rendering men incapable of office who entertained opinions hostile to the established religion. The only penalty imposed by that statute is exclusion from office” (this is altogether incorrect), “and that penalty is incurred by any manifestations of dangerous opinions, without proof of the intention in the person entertaining it, either to induce others to be of that opinion, or in any manner to disturb persons of a different persuasion.”
In other words, the object of the statute is the punishment of the expression of opinions supposed to be dangerous to society— however private, however temperate, may be the mode of expression, and however legitimate may be the occasion which calls for it. If a pious public servant, sorely tried by the controversies of the day, were to confide to the parish clergyman the fact that he had ceased to believe in the Divine authority of the Scriptures, and were to ask for arguments by which his former belief might be restored, he must, on a first offence, be dismissed and rendered incapable of public employment, and if he repeated his crime, he must, on conviction, be imprisoned for three years, and subjected to the incapacities specified. Mr. James Mill no doubt communicated his views on the subject of religion to his son. Whether this was an offence for which he might have been ruined by expulsion from the India House would depend on the question whether a post under the East India Company could properly be called a civil employment. Mr. John S. Mill might say what he pleased (subject to the law as to heresy, blasphemy, blasphemous libel, and despising the Sacrament), because he was not educated as a Christian, and never professed the Christian religion. Names of very distinguished living public servants, who might at any moment be utterly ruined (to the great injury of the public service) by the application of this Act, must occur to everyone. For obvious reasons I do not mention them here.

This completes the review which I undertook of the existing state of the law upon this subject. Its mere statement supersedes the necessity for any elaborate discussion of its merits and demerits. It is surely so plain as to need no proof that the law, as I have stated it, is in hopeless and direct opposition to the general current of principle and opinion in the present day. Nor is it difficult to see why this is so. The practical administration of the law generally reflects, not unfaithfully, the temper of the times; but the theory of the law alters at a much slower rate. The law of England was originally framed upon the theory that a certain set of theological doctrines were absolutely true, and that it was a crime to deny any of them. The extreme rarity of the crime, and the circumstance that it could hardly be committed by any one but a clergyman, caused it for some time to be treated with mildness. When the doctrines of the Church were seriously attacked, and when heresy came to be common amongst the laity, heresy was treated as a crime worthy of death, and serious (and for a time not altogether unsuccessful) attempts were made to put it down by main force. When the King and the Pope quarrelled, heresy did not cease to be criminal, though the definition of it was narrowed, and though it was less frequently, and in most cases less severely punished. The intense unpopularity of the High Commission Court and of its smaller, but perhaps more irritating local representatives, led, as I have shown, to the abolition of the inquisitorial procedure, which was characteristic of it, but the theory of persecution remained untouched, though the practice of it was crippled. The Toleration Act, and the subsequent statutes which enlarged it, are all exceptions to the general rule of law, which is persecution; and the invention by the judges of the offences of blasphemy at common law, and blasphemous libel, and the enactment by the legislature of the statute of William III., were meant to supply, and to a certain extent have supplied and do supply, the place of the ecclesiastical procedure, which was swept away in 1640, and revived in the crippled condition in which it still exists in 1661.

 Ought this state of things to continue? I am most earnestly of opinion that it ought not, and I rest that opinion not upon any abstract theory about liberty of conscience, but on several broad, patent, notorious facts. First, it is plain and notorious that the truth of Christianity, the Divine authority of Scripture, the existence of God, and the very possibility of a future life, are, as a matter of fact, denied by a large and increasing number of persons in good faith, upon intelligible grounds, and as any other opinions might be denied or affirmed. That there are in England many conscientious and respectable atheists and infidels of different kinds is as simple and notorious a fact as that there are in England many conscientious and respectables Roman Catholics, Quakers, and Jews. Moreover, the laws which I have stated have proved utterly incompetent to prevent the spread of these opinions; they are systematically defied with impunity, and if any man who holds, has held, or could hope to hold the office of Attorney General were to attempt to put them in force, the Ministry to which he belonged would either have to turn him out of his place or be themselves turned out of power. A penal law which cannot be enforced, and which the guardians of the law dare not enforce, is like a loaded fire-arm too old and rusty to be fired, lying about in a lumber-room. It may do no harm for years, but any accident may cause it to go off, and if it does, it will in all probability hardly do anything but mischief. Look at the different laws one by one which I have cited, and say which of them could ever be useful under any conceivable circumstances? Who could ever wish to see a man tried at the Quarter Sessions for “despising the Sacrament?” Would the Church of England survive the scandal of the prosecution of a layman for heresy, and his being sentenced to six months' imprisonment for refusing to do penance? The cruel and capricious statute of William III.-capricious because it omits to punish atheism, cruel for reasons already stated—never has been and never could be put in force without exciting universal disgust. It exists only because it is forgotten. Prosecutions for blasphemy and blasphemous libel are the only other form under which those who reject Christianity can be punished. Have such prosecutions ever caused—can they ever cause—any results which the most ardent friend of Christianity can approve off This may deserve a little consideration.

The prosecutions which have occurred may be divided into two principal classes—namely, prosecutions of persons guilty of blasphemy in the common sense of the word—that is, of levelling coarse abuse against things and persons regarded as sacred, and prosecutions of persons who have argued seriously and in good faith against Christianity. Whether the publication of a perfectly decent and respectful attack upon Christianity is or is not criminal—I am disposed to think that it is, though the point is not so perfectly plain as to prevent the judges from holding the contrary if they liked—I think no case of such a prosecution has occurred, at all events, for about 150 years.

Of prosecutions for blasphemy proper it is not necessary to say much. Such conduct is obviously wrong upon any theory as to the truth of religion. It cannot be otherwise than a breach of good manners and an act of disrespect to established institutions. I think, however, that it ought not to be prosecuted, unless indeed it is committed under circumstances likely to produce a breach of the peace, in which case I would deal with it on that ground only. By punishing mere coarseness of expression, a mischievous, irrational sensitiveness is encouraged. A man of sense ought not to be pained, and I think most English gentlemen would not, in fact, be pained by being coarsely abused. They would feel simple contempt for the person who called them names; and rational men, I think, would feel in the same way about blasphemy. That at all events is the state of mind which the law should encourage in this case as it does in others. Mere vulgar abuse of individuals is not actionable. Why should vulgar abuse of religion be punishable, unless of course it has a direct and obvious tendency to produce a breach of the peace?

 Again, unequal justice is injustice, and it is surely inexpedient, and would appear to common apprehension to be unjust, to allow polished ridicule to go unpunished when coarse railing is treated as a crime. Ridicule, however, is too subtle and refined a matter for legal punishment if it were otherwise desirable to prevent it. I would invite any one who thinks that coarse abuse of religion should be punished, to read over again Gibbon's historical account of the doctrine of the Trinity, not far from the beginning of the twenty-first chapter of the Decline and Fall, ending with the expression—“Within these limits the almost invisible and tremulous ball of orthodoxy was allowed securely to vibrate.” This celebrated passage was no doubt intended to produce, and has in fact produced, an amount of scepticism upon the subject to which it relates incomparably greater than that of any amount of coarseness and brutality. Yet to make it the subject of criminal prosecution would be perfectly monstrous, unless indeed a thoroughgoing persecution is directed against scepticism. To send a poor miserable labourer to gaol for writing offensive remarks about Christianity on a five-barred gate with a piece of chalk, whilst Gibbon is read by every educated man in the country, and edited by Milman and Guizot, is like punishing the throwing of stones and rewarding systematic poisoning.

The great objection, however, to treating mere blasphemy as a crime, is to be found in considering the second of the two classes of prosecutions mentioned above. Practically, prosecutions for the employment of coarse and disrespectful expressions are used in order to suppress serious arguments. People are prosecuted not because their publications are blasphemous, but because they are anti-Christian, and because, to a devout believer in Christianity, every pointed denial of its doctrine, every exposure of the weak side of any common opinion, appears blasphemous. In politics, it has long been recognized that if discussion is to be real it must be altogether unbridled and unrestrained, except by the silent checks of good taste and judgment. If a man thinks his antagonist foolish, absurd, and mischievous, he must be allowed to say so in the plainest terms. He will not be able to do justice to his views unless he can say what he likes. Wherever this license is extended to all alike, the same result inevitably follows—which is, that people learn that coarseness, hard words, and the calling of names are faults and weaknesses; that they put those who are guilty of them in the wrong, and expose them to mortifying and humiliating retorts. Language was far ruder and coarser than it now is, both in political and religious discussion, when the law both of political and blasphemous libel was a formidable reality instead of being a mere relic of the past. The coarseness and brutality of Paine greatly diminished his influence. If he had been as polished a writer as Bishop Watson, his antagonist, he would have produced far more effect than he did, though the effect which he certainly did produce was very considerable, and was not much diminished by the prosecutions directed against his publishers.

To these considerations, it must be added that the present law is so utterly opposed to the present state of feeling that in the course of the last forty years it has hardly ever been put in force, though during the last fifteen years Christianity, and even the belief in God and a future state, have been combated with an energy, pertinacity, and plainness of speech altogether unexampled. When such books as Strauss' Confession, and Supernatural Religion (I confine my illustrations to deceased or anonymous authors) are read in all directions, and when periodicals—to which persons of the highest eminence avowedly contribute—publish continually articles denying the Divine authority of the Scriptures, and the truth of the Christian religion, the laws which forbid such discussions may be said to have broken down, and ought to be repealed—to recur to my former illustration—on the principle on which it is prudent to unload a blunderbuss too rusty to be fired.

If we look back upon what such prosecutions actually effected, I think the argument against them is as strong as if we look at the manner in which the law is now defined. That they did not check the open growth of scepticism, or preserve the institutions which they were intended to defend, is obvious from the result. They had one effect, however. They threw the open advocacy of anti-Christian opinions, and the publication of open attacks upon Christianity, into the hands of men who had nothing to lose in character and position—authors like Paine, and booksellers like Eaton or Carlile. They helped to complete the alliance between religious and political disaffection, and they forced serious and quiet unbelievers to take up a line of covert hostility to Christianity which was injurious to their own honesty and directness of purpose on the one hand, and doubly injurious to Christianity itself in the long run. It is impossible to imagine anything more paltry and wretched than the advantages which Christianity obtained by the law against blasphemous libels. Bella geri placuit nullos habitura triumphos. I will recall a few of these miserable victories. In 1796, and again a few years later, the publishers of Paine's Age of Reason were prosecuted. The first of these was a man named Williams [See his case, 26 S.T.] against whom Lord Erskine delivered a tawdry piece of declamation which was much admired at the time. Williams's counsel, one Stewart Kyd, defended his client by justifying what Paine had said, in a speech which, though as injudicious as possible from the advocate's point of view, is in many parts forcible. Lord Kenyon summed up with touching horror, and is reported to have told the jury that the truth of Christianity [P.704] was originally established by discussion, and that persons acquainted with literature “have seen what Julian, Justin Martyr, and other apologists have written, and have been of opinion that the argument was in favour of these very publications,” (i.e., the books of the Bible). Williams was of course convicted and sentenced to a year's imprisonment and hard labour, and bound over to be of good behaviour for life in his own recognizance of £1,000. Paine's Age of Reason has been republished again and again ever since, and may at this day be procured by any one who wishes to read it. [I may observe that all the principal points of it are extracted and reprinted in the report of the trial, where I first read them when a boy many years ago, as I have no doubt is the case with many other persons.]

 This is one side of the story. Here is another side of it. In the notes to the report of the case, is published a wonderfully egotistical letter from Erskine to Mr. Howell, the editor of the State Trials, about the law and practice of retainers. In the midst of a number of paltry anecdotes about himself and his exploits, it contains this touching passage, which shows what sort of people used to be hit by prosecution for blasphemous libels—
 “Having convicted Williams, as will appear by your report of his trial. and before he had notice to attend the Court to receive judgment, I happened to pass one day through the old Turnstile from Holborn into Lincoln's Inn Fields, when, in the narrowest part of it, I felt something pulling me by the coat, when, on turning round, I saw a woman at my feet, bathed in tears, and emaciated with disease and sorrow, who contrived almost to drag me into a miserable hovel in the passage, where I found she was attending upon two or three unhappy children with the confluent small-pox, and in the same apartment, not above ten or twelve feet square, the wretched man I had convicted was sewing up little religious tracts, which had been his principal employment in his trade. I was fully convinced that his poverty, and not his will, had led to the publication of this infamous book, as, without any kind of stipulation for mercy on my part, he voluntarily and eagerly engaged to find out all the copies in circulation, and to bring them to me to be destroyed.”  
To the credit of his humanity and sagacity, Erskine represented these facts to the Society for the Suppression of Vice, by whom the prosecution of Williams had been instituted, and suggested to the eminent persons who composed it (Mr. Wilberforce, I am grieved to say, was one of the committee who considered the application) that it would be at once kind, wise, and highly popular to allow him to recommend the wretched man to mercy, on the ground of his ignorance, misery, and absence of any intention to offend. The committee unanimously refused to interfere, and Williams received the sentence I have mentioned, saying, “I trust it may not be too great an indulgence that I may have a bed;” and received from Lord Kenyon the answer, “I cannot order that.”

The last instance, so far as I know, of a prosecution of this sort, occurred in the summer of 1857, when a labourer was convicted before Mr. Justice Coleridge, at Bodmin, for scrawling profane remarks with chalk on gates and walls. He received a sentence of eighteen months' imprisonment, which was afterwards reduced to either two or three by the Home Secretary. The vehement, and in many respects unjust and scandalous charges brought in connection with this case by Mr. Buckle against both Sir John Coleridge and the present Lord Coleridge, who was counsel for the Crown, are well known. Whatever might be thought of Mr. Buckle's articles, I doubt whether anyone could fail to regret that the prosecution ever took place at all. Considering the state of English literature, both in 1857 and since, there never was such an instance of straining at gnats and swallowing camels.

If successful prosecutions for these offences are wretched successes, unsuccessful ones are real defeats. Hone's acquittal upon three successive informations, tried before Justice Abbott and Lord Ellenborough, covered those who were concerned in the prosecution with disgrace, and exhibited to the world the spectacle of the Lord Chief Justice of England baffled, humiliated, and trampled in the dust in his own Court by an obscure keeper of a bookstall, who happened also to be a man of singular spirit, courage, and reading. The truth is, that in such prosecutions the judge is, and always must be, at a disadvantage. If he allows the defendant to say what he likes (which in practice he is always forced to do, under an awkward affectation of treating him with contempt), the trial produces a repetition of the offence, and ends either in a triumph for the defendant or in his martyrdom. If, on the other hand, he interferes, he plays the part of a persecutor and an oppressor. The defendant threatens (as Hone did) to sit down and make no defence at all, and the result always is that the judge has to give way. The law, in short, can never in practice produce any desirable result. It can effect nothing but scandal—the scandal of ruining and crushing some poor, helpless, defenceless creature who is not worth notice, or the scandal of producing a conflict between the law and a man of spirit and courage, in which the law must of necessity get the worst of the encounter.

I have only one further remark to make on this part of the subject. Let anyone read the autobiography of Mr. John Mill, compare it with his works, and ask himself whether every one of them does not show the clearest traces of a deep-seated hostility to religion, carefully instilled into the son by the father, and of a settled determination on the part of the son to sap the very foundations of religion, by means of a mode of attack which no law short of the Spanish Inquisition could possibly reach. Let him further ask, whether this state of mind was not produced in John Mill—a man who had a strong natural leaning to some parts of the Christian system—by the restraint as to the expression of his real opinions, which lay so heavily both on his father and on himself. Probably hardly any work of our day has done so much to shake the foundations of theology as Mill's Logic, and if read in the light of its author's Autobiography, it is impossible not to believe that this result was intended. I well remember, many years ago, hearing of an Oxford student who said that he had read every word of it carefully, and that it contained not one word which was inconsistent with atheism. The remark was perfectly true. Read, again, the Essay on Liberty. The principles of the book, which has had astonishing popularity, appear to me, for reasons which I have elsewhere stated at large, [See a book called Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity.] to be fatal to all government whatever. Look at the Autobiography, and I think it is clear that the book is like an invective against shoes written by a man whose shoes pinch. If the author had felt quite safe, legally and socially, in speaking his mind against Christianity, or the parts of it which he did not like, he would not have found it necessary to write what is, in terms, an attack on all government whatever. If anyone had said to him, “Why don't you speak out like a man? Why don't you expose the superstitions and falsehoods, as you consider them, under which we are all groaning, boldly and decisively, and with all the powers of your mind? Why will you write about logic, and metaphysics, and liberty, when you really care about politics and religion?” he would have replied, “I will not do what you suggest for two reasons. First, I will not put it in the power of any bigot, who thinks he would do God service by so doing, to deprive me of my place at the India Office and to send me to gaol; and in the next place, you will find in the long run that the zig-zag mode of approach is good in controversy as well as in sieges. The sap and the mine must in time take us into the heart of the place. If we try to storm the town now, we shall simply be knocked on the head.” Is Christianity a gainer by this? Is it not obvious that the real alternative is between complete freedom and that thoroughgoing and effective persecution, which no one in these days would think of?

 For these reasons it appears to me that the whole of the law which can possibly be applied to the punishment of the expression of religious opinions should be abolished. It might be effected by the following short Act, which I respectfully offer to any member of Parliament who cares to take the matter up:
“Whereas certain laws now in force and intended for the promotion of religion are no longer suitable for that purpose, and it is expedient to repeal them,
Be it enacted as follows:–
“1. After the passing of this Act no criminal proceedings shall be instituted in any Court whatever, against any person whatever, for atheism, blasphemy at common law, blasphemous libel, heresy, or schism, except only criminal proceedings instituted in Ecclesiastical Courts against clergymen of the Church of England.
 “2. An Act passed in the 1st year of his late Majesty King Edward VI., c. 1, intituled “An Act against such as shall unreverently speak against the Sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, commonly called the Sacrament of the Altar, and for the receiving thereof in both kinds,’ and an Act passed in the 9th and 10th year of his late Majesty King William III., c. 35, intituled “An Act for the more effectual suppressing of blasphemy and profaneness,’ are hereby repealed. “3. Provided that nothing herein contained shall be deemed to affect the provisions of an Act passed in the 19th year of his late Majesty King George II., c. 21, intituled “An Act more effectually to prevent profane cursing and swearing, or any other provision of any other Act of Parliament not hereby expressly repealed.”

Contemporary Review, February 1875.