History of Civilization in England, Vol. 1 of 3

Note A

‘Der Begriff der Freiheit ist ein reiner Vernunftbegriff, der eben darum für die theoretische Philosophie transcendent, d. i. ein solcher ist, dem kein angemessenes Beispiel in irgend einer möglichen Erfahrung gegeben werden kann, welcher also keinen Gegenstand einer uns möglichen theoretischen Erkenntniss ausmacht, und schlechterdings nicht für ein constitutives, sondern lediglich als regulatives, und zwar nur bloss negatives Princip der speculativen Vernunft gelten kann, im praktischen Gebrauche der selben aber seine Realität durch praktische Grundsätze beweist, die, als Gesetze, eine Causalität der reinen Vernunft, unabhängig von allen empirischen Bedingungen (dem Sinnlichen überhaupt), die Willkühr zu bestimmen, und einen reinen Willen in uns beweisen, in welchem die sittlichen Begriffe und Gesetze ihren Ursprung haben.’ Metaphysik der Sitten, in Kant's Werke, vol. v. pp. 20, 21. ‘Würden die Gegenstände der Sinnenwelt für Dinge an sich selbst genommen, und die oben angeführten Naturgesetze für Gesetze der Dinge an sich selbst, so wäre der Widerspruch’ (i. e. between Liberty and Necessity) ‘unvermeidlich. Ebenso, wenn das Subject der Freiheit gleich den übrigen Gegenständen als blose Erscheinung vorgestellt würde, so könnte ebensowohl der Widerspruch nicht vermieden werden; denn es würde ebendasselbe von einerlei Gegenständen in derselben Bedeutung zugleich bejaht und verneint werden. Ist aber Naturnothwendigkeit bloss auf Erscheinungen bezogen, und Freiheit bloss auf Dinge an sich selbst, so entspringt kein Widerspruch, wenn man gleich beide Arten von Causalität annimmt oder zugibt, so schwer oder unmöglich es auch sein möchte, die von der letzteren Art begreiflich zu machen.’ … ‘Natur also und Freiheit eben demselben Dinge, aber in verschiedener Beziehung, einmal als Erscheinung, das andre Mal als einem Dinge an sich selbst ohne Widerspruch beigelegt werden können.’ … ‘Nun kann ich ohne Widerspruch sagen: alle Handlungen vernünftiger Wesen, sofern sie Erscheinungen sind (in irgend einer Erfahrung angetroffen werden), stehen unter der Naturnothwendigkeit; eben dieselben Handlungen aber, bloss respective auf das vernünftige Subject und dessen Vermögen, nach blosser Vernunft zu handeln, sind frei.’ Prolegomena zu jeder künftigen Metaphysik, in Kant's Werke, vol. iii. pp. 268–270. ‘Denn ein Geschöpf zu sein und als Naturwesen bloss dem Willen seines Urhebers zu folgen; dennoch aber als freihandelndes Wesen (welches seinen vom äusseren Einfluss unabhängigen Willen hat, der dem ersteren vielfältig zuwider sein kann), der Zurechnung fähig zu sein, und seine eigene That doch auch zugleich als die Wirkung eines höheren Wesens anzusehen: ist eine Vereinbarung von Begriffen, die wir zwar in der Idee einer Welt, als des höchsten Gutes, zusammen denken müssen; die aber nur der einsehen kann, welcher bis zur Kenntniss der übersinnlichen (intelligiblen) Welt durchdringt und die Art einsieht, wie sie der Sinnenwelt zum Grunde liegt.’ Theodicee, in Kant's Werke, vol. vi. p. 149. ‘Nun wollen wir annehmen, die durch unsere Kritik nothwendig gemachte Unterscheidung der Dinge, als Gegenstände der Erfahrung, von eben denselben, als Dingen an sich selbst, wäre gar nicht gemacht, so müsste der Grundsatz der Causalität und mithin der Naturmechanismus in Bestimmung derselben durchaus von allen Dingen überhaupt als wirkenden Ursachen gelten. Von eben demselben Wesen also, z. B. der menschlichen Seele, würde ich nicht sagen können, ihr Wille sei frei, und er sei doch zugleich der Naturnothwendigkeit unterworfen, d. i. nicht frei, ohne in einen offenbaren Widerspruch zu gerathen; weil ich die Seele in beiden Sätzen in eben derselben Bedeutung, nämlich als Ding überhaupt (als Sache an sich selbst), genommen habe und, ohne vorhergehende Kritik, auch nicht anders nehmen konnte. Wenn aber die Kritik nicht geirrt hat, da sie das Object in zweierlei Bedeutung nehmen lehrt, nämlich als Erscheinung, oder als Ding an sich selbst; wenn die Deduction ihrer Verstandesbegriffe richtig ist, mithin auch der Grundsatz der Causalität nur auf Dinge im ersten Sinne genommen, nämlich so fern sie Gegenstände der Erfahrung sind, geht, eben dieselben aber nach der zweiten Bedeutung ihm nicht unterworfen sind, so wird eben derselbe Wille in der Erscheinung (den sichtbaren Handlungen) als dem Naturgesetze nothwendig gemäss und so fern nicht frei, und doch andererseits, als einem Dinge an sich selbst angehörig, jenem nicht unterworfen, mithin als frei gedacht, ohne dass hiebei ein Widerspruch vorgeht.’ Kritik der reinen Vernunft, in Kant's Werke, vol. ii. p. 24. ‘Und hier zeigt die zwar gemeine, aber betrügliche Voraussetzung der absoluten Realität der Erscheinungen sogleich ihren nachtheiligen Einfluss, die Vernunft zu verwirren. Denn sind Erscheinungen Dinge an sich selbst, so ist Freiheit nicht zu retten. Alsdann ist Natur die vollständige und an sich hinreichend bestimmende Ursache jeder Begebenheit, und die Bedingung derselben ist jederzeit nur in der Reihe der Erscheinungen enthalten, die sammt ihrer Wirkung unter dem Naturgesetze nothwendig sind. Wenn dagegen Erscheinungen für Nichts mehr gelten, als sie in der That sind, nämlich nicht für Dinge an sich, sondern blosse Vorstellungen, die nach empirischen Gesetzen zusammenhängen, so müssen sie selbst noch Gründe haben, die nicht Erscheinungen sind.’ … ‘Hier habe ich nur die Anmerkung machen wollen, dass, da der durchgängige Zusammenhang aller Erscheinungen in einem Context der Natur ein unnachlässliches Gesetz ist, dieses alle Freiheit nothwendig umstürzen müsste, wenn man der Realität der Erscheinungen hartnäckig anhängen wollte. Daher auch diejenigen, welche hierin der gemeinen Meinung folgen, niemals dahin haben gelangen können, Natur und Freiheit mit einander zu vereinigen.’ Kritik, in Werke, vol. ii. pp. 419, 420. Finally, at p. 433, ‘Man muss wohl bemerken, dass wir hiedurch nicht die Wirklichkeit der Freiheit, als eines der Vermögen, welche die Ursache von den Erscheinungen unserer Sinnenwelt enthalten, haben darthun wollen. Denn ausser dass dieses gar keine transcendentale Betrachtung, die bloss mit Begriffen zu thun hat, gewesen sein würde, so könnte es auch nicht gelingen, indem wir aus der Erfahrung niemals auf Etwas, was gar nicht nach Erfahrungsgesetzen gedacht werden muss, schliessen können. Ferner haben wir auch gar nicht einmal die Möglichkeit der Freiheit beweisen wollen; denn dieses wäre auch nicht gelungen, weil wir überhaupt von keinem Realgrunde und keiner Causalität aus blossen Begriffen a priori die Möglichkeit erkennen können. Die Freiheit wird hier nur als transcendentale Idee behandelt, wodurch die Vernunft die Reihe der Bedingungen in der Erscheinung durch das sinnlich Unbedingte schlechthin aufzuheben denkt, dabei sich in eine Antinomie mit ihren eigenen Gesetzen, welche sie dem empirischen Gebrauche des Verstandes vorschreibt, verwickelt. Dass nun diese Antinomie auf einem blossen Scheine beruhe, und dass Natur der Causalität aus Freiheit wenigstens nicht widerstreite, das war das Einzige, was wir leisten konnten, und woran es uns auch einzig und allein gelegen war.’

These passages prove that Kant saw that the phenomenal reality of Free Will is an indefensible doctrine: and as the present work is an investigation of the laws of phenomena, his transcendental philosophy does not affect my conclusions. According to Kant's view (and with which I am inclined to agree) the ordinary metaphysical and theological treatment of this dark problem is purely empirical, and therefore has no value. The denial of the supremacy of consciousness follows as a natural consequence, and is the result of the Kantian philosophy, and not, as is often said, the base of it.

CHAPTER II

INFLUENCE EXERCISED BY PHYSICAL LAWS OVER THE ORGANIZATION OF SOCIETY AND OVER THE CHARACTER OF INDIVIDUALS

If we inquire what those physical agents are by which the human race is most powerfully influenced, we shall find that they may be classed under four heads: namely, Climate, Food, Soil, and the General Aspect of Nature; by which last, I mean those appearances which, though presented chiefly to the sight, have, through the medium of that or other senses, directed the association of ideas, and hence in different countries have given rise to different habits of national thought. To one of these four classes, may be referred all the external phenomena by which Man has been permanently affected. The last of these classes, or what I call the General Aspect of Nature, produces its principal results by exciting the imagination, and by suggesting those innumerable superstitions which are the great obstacles to advancing knowledge. And as, in the infancy of a people, the power of such superstitions is supreme, it has happened that the various Aspects of Nature have caused corresponding varieties in the popular character, and have imparted to the national religion peculiarities which, under certain circumstances, it is impossible to efface. The other three agents, namely, Climate, Food, and Soil, have, so far as we are aware, had no direct influence of this sort; but they have, as I am about to prove, originated the most important consequences in regard to the general organization of society, and from them there have followed many of those large and conspicuous differences between nations, which are often ascribed to some fundamental difference in the various races into which mankind is divided. But while such original distinctions of race are altogether hypothetical,38 the discrepancies which are caused by difference of climate, food, and soil, are capable of a satisfactory explanation, and, when understood, will be found to clear up many of the difficulties which still obscure the study of history. I purpose, therefore, in the first place, to examine the laws of these three vast agents in so far as they are connected with Man in his social condition; and having traced the working of those laws with as much precision as the present state of physical knowledge will allow, I shall then examine the remaining agent, namely, the General Aspect of Nature, and shall endeavour to point out the most important divergencies to which its variations have, in different countries, naturally given rise.

Beginning, then, with climate, food, and soil, it is evident that these three physical powers are in no small degree dependent on each other: that is to say, there is a very close connexion between the climate of a country and the food which will ordinarily be grown in that country; while at the same time the food is itself influenced by the soil which produces it, as also by the elevation or depression of the land, by the state of the atmosphere, and, in a word, by all those conditions to the assemblage of which the name of Physical Geography is, in its largest sense, commonly given.39

The union between these physical agents being thus intimate, it seems advisable to consider them not under their own separate heads, but rather under the separate heads of the effects produced by their united action. In this way we shall rise at once to a more comprehensive view of the whole question; we shall avoid the confusion that would be caused by artificially separating phenomena which are in themselves inseparable; and we shall be able to see more clearly the extent of that remarkable influence, which, in an early stage of society, the powers of Nature exercise over the fortunes of Man.

Of all the results which are produced among a people by their climate, food, and soil, the accumulation of wealth is the earliest, and in many respects the most important. For although the progress of knowledge eventually accelerates the increase of wealth, it is nevertheless certain that, in the first formation of society, the wealth must accumulate before the knowledge can begin. As long as every man is engaged in collecting the materials necessary for his own subsistence, there will be neither leisure nor taste for higher pursuits; no science can possibly be created, and the utmost that can be effected will be an attempt to economise labour by the contrivance of such rude and imperfect instruments as even the most barbarous people are able to invent.

In a state of society like this, the accumulation of wealth is the first great step that can be taken, because without wealth there can be no leisure, and without leisure there can be no knowledge. If what a people consume is always exactly equal to what they possess, there will be no residue, and therefore, no capital being accumulated, there will be no means by which the unemployed classes may be maintained.40 But if the produce is greater than the consumption, an overplus arises, which, according to well-known principles, increases itself, and eventually becomes a fund out of which, immediately or remotely, every one is supported who does not create the wealth upon which he lives. And now it is that the existence of an intellectual class first becomes possible, because for the first time there exists a previous accumulation, by means of which men can use what they did not produce, and are thus enabled to devote themselves to subjects for which at an earlier period the pressure of their daily wants would have left them no time.

Thus it is that of all the great social improvements the accumulation of wealth must be the first, because without it there can be neither taste nor leisure for that acquisition of knowledge on which, as I shall hereafter prove, the progress of civilization depends. Now, it is evident that among an entirely ignorant people, the rapidity with which wealth is created will be solely regulated by the physical peculiarities of their country. At a later period, and when the wealth has been capitalized, other causes come into play; but until this occurs, the progress can only depend on two circumstances: first on the energy and regularity with which labour is conducted, and secondly on the returns made to that labour by the bounty of nature. And these two causes are themselves the result of physical antecedents. The returns made to labour are governed by the fertility of the soil, which is itself regulated partly by the admixture of its chemical components, partly by the extent to which, from rivers or from other natural causes, the soil is irrigated, and partly by the heat and humidity of the atmosphere. On the other hand, the energy and regularity with which labour is conducted, will be entirely dependent on the influence of climate. This will display itself in two different ways. The first, which is a very obvious consideration, is, that if the heat is intense, men will be indisposed, and in some degree unfitted, for that active industry which in a milder climate they might willingly have exerted. The other consideration, which has been less noticed, but is equally important, is, that climate influences labour not only by enervating the labourer or by invigorating him, but also by the effect it produces on the regularity of his habits.41 Thus we find that no people living in a very northern latitude have ever possessed that steady and unflinching industry for which the inhabitants of temperate regions are remarkable. The reason of this becomes clear, when we remember that in the more northern countries the severity of the weather, and, at some seasons, the deficiency of light, render it impossible for the people to continue their usual out-of-door employments. The result is, that the working classes being compelled to cease from their ordinary pursuits, are rendered more prone to desultory habits; the chain of their industry is as it were broken, and they lose that impetus which long-continued and uninterrupted practice never fails to give. Hence there arises a national character more fitful and capricious than that possessed by a people whose climate permits the regular exercise of their ordinary industry. Indeed, so powerful is this principle, that we may perceive its operation even under the most opposite circumstances. It would be difficult to conceive a greater difference in government, laws, religion, and manners, than that which distinguishes Sweden and Norway on the one hand, from Spain and Portugal on the other. But these four countries have one great point in common. In all of them, continued agricultural industry is impracticable. In the two southern countries, labour is interrupted by the heat, by the dryness of the weather, and by the consequent state of the soil. In the two northern countries, the same effect is produced by the severity of the winter and the shortness of the days. The consequence is, that these four nations, though so different in other respects, are all remarkable for a certain instability and fickleness of character; presenting a striking contrast to the more regular and settled habits which are established in countries whose climate subjects the working classes to fewer interruptions, and imposes on them the necessity of a more constant and unremitting employment.42

These are the great physical causes by which the creation of wealth is governed. There are, no doubt, other circumstances which operate with considerable force, and which, in a more advanced state of society, possess an equal, and sometimes a superior, influence. But this is at a later period; and looking at the history of wealth in its earliest stage, it will be found to depend entirely on soil and climate: the soil regulating the returns made to any given amount of labour; the climate regulating the energy and constancy of the labour itself. It requires but a hasty glance at past events, to prove the immense power of these two great physical conditions. For there is no instance in history of any country being civilized by its own efforts, unless it has possessed one of these conditions in a very favourable form. In Asia, civilization has always been confined to that vast tract where a rich and alluvial soil has secured to man that wealth without some share of which no intellectual progress can begin. This great region extends, with a few interruptions, from the east of Southern China to the western coasts of Asia Minor, of Phœnicia, and of Palestine. To the north of this immense belt, there is a long line of barren country which has invariably been peopled by rude and wandering tribes, who are kept in poverty by the ungenial nature of the soil, and who, as long as they remained on it, have never emerged from their uncivilized state. How entirely this depends on physical causes, is evident from the fact that these same Mongolian and Tartarian hordes have, at different periods, founded great monarchies in China, in India, and in Persia, and have, on all such occasions, attained a civilization nowise inferior to that possessed by the most nourishing of the ancient kingdoms. For in the fertile plains of Southern Asia,43 nature has supplied all the materials of wealth; and there it was that these barbarous tribes acquired for the first time some degree of refinement, produced a national literature, and organized a national polity; none of which things they, in their native land, had been able to effect.44 In the same way, the Arabs in their own country have, owing to the extreme aridity of their soil,45 always been a rude and uncultivated people; for in their case, as in all others, great ignorance is the fruit of great poverty. But in the seventh century they conquered Persia;46 in the eighth century they conquered the best part of Spain;47 in the ninth century they conquered the Punjaub, and eventually nearly the whole of India.48 Scarcely were they established in their fresh settlements, when their character seemed to undergo a great change. They, who in their original land were little else than roving savages, were now for the first time able to accumulate wealth, and, therefore, for the first time did they make some progress in the arts of civilization. In Arabia they had been a mere race of wandering shepherds;49 in their new abodes they became the founders of mighty empires – they built cities, endowed schools, collected libraries; and the traces of their power are still to be seen at Cordova, at Bagdad, and at Delhi.50 Precisely in the same manner, there is adjoining Arabia at the north, and only separated from it elsewhere by the narrow waters of the Red Sea, an immense sandy plain, which, covering the whole of Africa in the same latitude, extends westward until it reaches the shores of the Atlantic.51 This enormous tract is, like Arabia, a barren waste;52 and therefore, as in Arabia, the inhabitants have always been entirely uncivilized, acquiring no knowledge, simply because they have accumulated no wealth.53 But this great desert is, in its eastern part, irrigated by the waters of the Nile, the overflowing of which covers the sand with a rich alluvial deposit, that yields to labour the most abundant, and indeed the most extraordinary, returns.54 The consequence is, that in that spot, wealth was rapidly accumulated, the cultivation of knowledge quickly followed, and this narrow strip of land55 became the seat of Egyptian civilization; a civilization which, though grossly exaggerated,56 forms a striking contrast to the barbarism of the other nations of Africa, none of which have been able to work out their own progress, or emerge, in any degree, from the ignorance to which the penury of nature has doomed them.

These considerations clearly prove that of the two primary causes of civilization, the fertility of the soil is the one which in the ancient world exercised most influence. But in European civilization, the other great cause, that is to say, climate, has been the most powerful; and this, as we have seen, produces an effect partly on the capacity of the labourer for work, partly on the regularity or irregularity of his habits. The difference in the result has curiously corresponded with the difference in the cause. For, although all civilization must have for its antecedent the accumulation of wealth, still what subsequently occurs will be in no small degree determined by the conditions under which the accumulation took place. In Asia, and in Africa, the condition was a fertile soil, causing an abundant return; in Europe, it was a happier climate, causing more successful labour. In the former case, the effect depends on the relation between the soil and its produce; in other words, the mere operation of one part of external nature upon another. In the latter case, the effect depends on the relation between the climate and the labourer; that is, the operation of external nature not upon itself, but upon man. Of these two classes of relations, the first, being the less complicated, is the less liable to disturbance, and therefore came sooner into play. Hence it is, that, in the march of civilization, the priority is unquestionably due to the most fertile parts of Asia and Africa. But although their civilization was the earliest, it was very far, indeed, from being the best or most permanent. Owing to circumstances which I shall presently state, the only progress which is really effective depends, not upon the bounty of nature, but upon the energy of man. Therefore it is, that the civilization of Europe, which, in its earliest stage, was governed by climate, has shown a capacity of development unknown to those civilizations which were originated by soil. For the powers of nature, notwithstanding their apparent magnitude, are limited and stationary; at all events, we have not the slightest proof that they have ever increased, or that they will ever be able to increase. But the powers of man, so far as experience and analogy can guide us, are unlimited; nor are we possessed of any evidence which authorizes us to assign even an imaginary boundary at which the human intellect will, of necessity, be brought to a stand. And as this power which the mind possesses of increasing its own resources, is a peculiarity confined to man, and one eminently distinguishing him from what is commonly called external nature, it becomes evident that the agency of climate, which gives him wealth by stimulating his labour, is more favourable to his ultimate progress than the agency of soil, which likewise gives him wealth, but which does so, not by exciting his energies, but by virtue of a mere physical relation between the character of the soil and the quantity or value of the produce that it almost spontaneously affords.

Thus far as to the different ways in which climate and soil affect the creation of wealth. But another point of equal, or perhaps of superior, importance remains behind. After the wealth has been created, a question arises as to how it is to be distributed; that is to say, what proportion is to go to the upper classes, and what to the lower. In an advanced stage of society, this depends upon several circumstances of great complexity, and which it is not necessary here to examine.57 But in a very early stage of society, and before its later and refined complications have begun, it may, I think, be proved that the distribution of wealth is, like its creation, governed entirely by physical laws; and that those laws are moreover so active as to have invariably kept a vast majority of the inhabitants of the fairest portion of the globe in a condition of constant and inextricable poverty. If this can be demonstrated, the immense importance of such laws is manifest. For since wealth is an undoubted source of power, it is evident that, supposing other things equal, an inquiry into the distribution of wealth is an inquiry into the distribution of power, and, as such, will throw great light on the origin of those social and political inequalities, the play and opposition of which form a considerable part of the history of every civilized country.