His Craftsman, appearing weekly or semiweekly for a full ten years, from 1726 to 1736, roasted Walpole's administration in crackling fires of ridicule and denunciation. Its savage, bitter, relentless attacks were indistinguishable from Cato's polemics on major points of political criticism. The Craftsman, in fact, quoted the writings of Trenchard and Gordon freely, and otherwise, in almost identical language, decried the corruption of the age and warned of the dangers of incipient autocracy. The Scottish philosopher, Francis Hutcheson, and the nonconformist schoolmaster, Philip Doddridge, were also figures of this generation the colonists knew and cited in the same general context, as was Isaac Watts, the hymnologist and writer on questions of church and education.

The tradition continued into the Revolutionaries' own generation, promoted by Richard Baron, republican and dissenter, associate and literary heir of Thomas Gordon, who republished in the 1750's political works of Milton and Sidney and issued also an anthology of the writings of the later radicals, including Jonathan Mayhew; and promoted even more effectively by that extraordinary one-man propaganda machine in the cause of liberty, the indefatigable Thomas Hollis, whose correspondence in the 1760's first with Mayhew and then with Andrew Eliot illustrates vividly the directness of the influence of this radical and opposition tradition on the ideological origins of the Revolution. In the Revolutionary years proper a group of still younger writers renewed the earlier ideas, extended them still further, and, together with the leading spokesmen for the colonies, applied them to the Anglo-American controversy. Foremost among these later English advocates of reform in politics and religion were Richard Price, Joseph Priestley, and John Cartwright; but the key book of this generation was the three-volume Political Disquisitions published in 1774 by the schoolmaster, political theorist, and moralist, James Burgh. The republican historian Catharine Macaulay, whose History of England has aptly been called “an imaginative work in praise of republican principles under the title of a History of England,” was also an important intellectual figure of this generation to the colonists, but among the many Whig historians the Americans knew and referred to — including Bulstrode Whitelock, Gilbert Burnet, William Guthrie, and James Ralph — their preference was for the exiled Huguenot, Paul de Rapin-Thoyras. His “inestimable treasure,” the vast, radically Whiggish Histoire d'Angleterre, published in English between 1725 and 1731, together with his earlier sketch of the whole, A Dissertation on the ... Whigs and Tories (1717: reprinted in Boston in 1773), provided indisputable proof of the theories of all of the radical and anti-establishment writers by demonstrating their validity through a thousand years of English history. But all history, not only English history, was vital to the thought of the Revolutionary generation, and it is a matter of particular consequence that among the best, or at least the most up-to-date, translations of Sallust and Tacitus available to the colonists were those by the ubiquitous Thomas Gordon, “under whose hands [Tacitus] virtually became an apologist for English Whiggery"; he prefaced his translations with introductory "Discourses” of prodigious length in which he explained beyond all chance of misunderstanding the political and moral meaning of those ancient historians.

To say simply that this tradition of opposition thought was quickly transmitted to America and widely appreciated there is to understate the fact. Opposition thought, in the form it acquired at the turn of the seventeenth century and in the early eighteenth century, was devoured by the colonists. From the earliest years of the century it nourished their political thought and sensibilities. There seems never to have been a time after the Hanoverian succession when these writings were not central to American political expression or absent from polemical politics.

But important as all of these clusters of ideas were, they did not in themselves form a coherent intellectual pattern, and they do not exhaust the elements that went into the making of the Revolutionary frame of mind. There were among them, in fact, striking incongruities and contradictions. The common lawyers the colonists cited, for example, sought to establish right by appeal to precedent and to an unbroken tradition evolving from time immemorial, and they assumed, if they did not argue, that the accumulation of the ages, the burden of inherited custom, contained within it a greater wisdom than any man or group of men could devise by the power of reason. Nothing could have been more alien to the Enlightenment rationalists whom the colonists also quoted — and with equal enthusiasm. These theorists felt that it was precisely the heavy crust of custom that was weighing down the spirit of man; they sought to throw it off and to create by the unfettered power of reason a framework of institutions superior to the accidental inheritance of the past. And the covenant theologians differed from both in continuing to assume the ultimate inability of man to improve his condition by his own powers and in deriving the principles of politics from divine intent and from the network of obligations that bound redeemed man to his maker.

What brought these disparate strands of thought together, what dominated the colonists' miscellaneous learning and shaped it into a coherent whole, was the influence of still another group of writers, a group whose thought overlapped with that of those already mentioned but which was yet distinct in its essential characteristics and unique in its determinative power. The ultimate origins of this distinctive ideological strain lay in the radical social and political thought of the English Civil War and of the Commonwealth period; but its permanent form had been acquired at the turn of the seventeenth century and in the early eighteenth century, in the writings of a group of prolific opposition theorists, “country” politicians and publicists.

Among the seventeenth-century progenitors of this line of eighteenth-century radical writers and opposition politicians united in criticism of “court” and ministerial power, Milton was an important figure — not Milton the poet so much as Milton the radical tractarian, author of Eikonoklastes and The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates (both published in 1649). The American Revolutionary writers referred with similar respect if with less understanding to the more systematic writing of Harrington and to that of the like-minded Henry Neville; above all, they referred to the doctrines of Algernon Sidney, that “martyr to civil liberty” whose Discourses Concerning Government (1698) became, in Caroline Robbins' phrase, a “textbook of revolution” in America.

The colonists identified themselves with these seventeenth-century heroes of liberty: but they felt closer to the early eighteenth-century writers who modified and enlarged this earlier body of ideas, fused it into a whole with other, contemporary strains of thought, and, above all, applied it to the problems of eighteenth-century English politics. These early eighteenth-century writers — coffeehouse radicals and opposition politicians, spokesmen for the anti-Court independents within Parliament and the disaffected without, draftsmen of a "country" vision of English politics that would persist throughout the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth — faded subsequently into obscurity and are little known today. But more than any other single group of writers they shaped the mind of the American Revolutionary generation.

To the colonists the most important of these publicists and intellectual middlemen were those spokesmen for extreme libertarianism, John Trenchard (1662–1723) and Thomas Gordon (d. 1750). The former, a west-country squire of ample means and radical ideas, was a 57-year-old veteran of the pamphlet wars that surrounded the Glorious Revolution when in 1719 he met Gordon, “a clever young Scot ...

James Franklin's New England Courant began excerpting Cato's Letters eleven months after the first of them appeared in London; before the end of 1722 his brother Benjamin had incorporated them into his Silence Dogood papers. Isaac Norris I in 1721 ordered his London bookseller to send him the separate issues of The Independent Whig as they appeared, and that whole collection was reprinted in Philadelphia in 1724 and 1740. John Peter Zenger's famous New York Weekly Journal (1733 ff.) was in its early years a veritable anthology of the writings of Trenchard and Gordon. By 1728, in fact, Cato's Letters had already been fused with Locke, Coke, Pufendorf, and Grotius to produce a prototypical American treatise in defense of English liberties overseas, a tract indistinguishable from any number of publications that would appear in the Revolutionary crisis fifty years later. So popular and influential had Cato's Letters become in the colonies within a decade and a half of their first appearance, so packed with ideological meaning, that, reinforced by Addison's universally popular play Cato and the colonists' selectively Whiggish reading of the Roman historians, it gave rise to what might be called a “Catonic” image, central to the political theory of the time, in which the career of the half-mythological Roman and the words of the two London journalists merged indistinguishably. Everyone who read the Boston Gazette of April 26, 1756, understood the double reference, bibliographical and historical, that was intended by an anonymous writer who concluded an address to the people of Massachusetts — as he put it without further explanation — “in the words of Cato to the freeholders of Great Britain."

Testimonies to the unique influence of this opposition literature — evidences of this great "hinterland of belief” from which would issue the specific arguments of the American Revolution — are everywhere in the writings of eighteenth-century Americans. Sometimes they are explicit, as when Jonathan Mayhew wrote that, having been “initiated, in youth, in the doctrines of civil liberty, as they were taught by such men ... as Sidney and Milton, Locke, and Hoadly, among the moderns, I liked them; they seemed rational"; or when John Adams insisted, against what he took to be the massed opinion of informed Englishmen, that the root principles of good government could be found only in “Sidney, Harrington, Locke, Milton, Nedham, Neville, Burnet, and Hoadly"; or again, when he listed the great political thinkers of 1688 as "Sidney, Locke, Hoadly, Trenchard, Gordon, Plato Redivivus [Neville]"; or when Josiah Quincy, Jr., bequeathed to his son in 1774 “Algernon Sidney's works, — John Locke's works, — Lord Bacon's works, — Gordon's Tacitus, — and Cato's Letters. May the spirit of liberty rest upon him!" More often, the evidence is implicit, in the degree to which the pamphleteers quoted from, plagiarized, and modeled their writings on Cato's Letters and The Independent Whig. Above all, their influence may be seen in the way the peculiar bent of mind of the writers in this tradition was reflected in the ideas and attitudes of the Americans.

(*This pamphlet was written by one of the profoundest thinkers in Europe, and first published in London in 1849, fifteen years after the fatal experiment of emancipation.)

My Philanthropic Friends — It is my painful duty to address some words to you this evening, on the Rights of Negroes. Taking, as we hope we do, an extensive survey of social affairs, which we find all in a state of the frightfullest embroilment, and as it were, of inextricable final bankruptcy, just at present; and being desirous to adjust ourselves in that huge up-break, and unutterable welter of tumbling ruins, and to see well that our grand proposed Association of Associations, the Universal Abolition-of-Pain Association, which is meant to be the consummate golden flower and summary of modern philanthropisms all in one, do not issue as a universal “Sluggard-and-Scoundrel Protection Society” — we have judged that, before constituting ourselves, it would be proper to commune earnestly with one another and discourse together on the leading elements of our great Problem, which surely is one of the greatest. With this view the Council has decided, both that the Negro Question, as lying at the bottom, was to be the first handled, and if possible the first settled; and then also, what was of much more questionable wisdom, that — that, in short, I was to be speaker on the occasion. An honorable duty; yet, as I said, a painful one! Well, you shall hear what I have to say on the matter; and probably you will not in the least like it.

West Indian affairs, as we all know, and as some of us know to our cost, are rather in a troublous condition this good while. In regard to West Indian affairs, however, Lord John Russell is able to comfort us with one fact, indisputable where so many are dubious, that the negroes are all very happy and doing well. A fact very comfortable indeed. West Indian whites, it is admitted, are far enough from happy; West Indian Colonies not unlike sinking wholly into ruin; at home, too, the British whites are rather badly off, several millions of them hanging on the verge of continual famine; and in single towns, many thousands of them very sore put to it, at this time, not to live “well,” or as a man should, in any sense temporal or spiritual, but to live at all — these, again, are uncomfortable facts; and they are extremely extensive and important ones. But, thank heaven, our interesting black population, equalling almost in number of heads one of the Ridings of Yorkshire, and in worth, in (quantity of intellect, faculty, docility, energy, and available human valor and value) perhaps one of the streets of Seven Dials, are all doing remarkably well. “Sweet blighted lilies,” as the American epitaph on the nigger child has it, sweet blighted lilies, they are holding up their heads again! How pleasant, in the universal bankruptcy abroad, and dun, dreary stagnancy at home, as if for England too there remained nothing but to suppress Chartist riots, banish united Irishmen, vote the supplies, and wait with arms crossed till black anarchy and social death devoured us also, as it has the others; how pleasant to have always this fact to fall back upon: our beautiful black darlings are at least happy; with lit- tie labor except to the teeth, which, surely, in those excellent horse-jaws of theirs, will not fail!

Exeter Hall, my philanthropic friends, has had its way in this matter. The twenty millions* (*Twenty millions of pounds — one hundred millions of dollars, — The sum paid for emancipation.), a mere trifle despatched with a single dash of the pen, are paid; and far over the sea, we have a few black persons rendered extremely “free” indeed. Sitting yonder, with their beautiful muzzles up to the ears in pumpkins, imbibing sweet pulps and juices; the grinder and incisor teeth ready for every new work, and the pumpkins cheap as grass in those rich climates, while the sugar-crops rot round them uncut, because labor cannot be hired, so cheap are the pumpkins; and at home we are required but to rasp from the break- fast loaves of our own English laborers some slight “differential sugar-duties,” and lend a poor half million, or a few poor millions now and then, to keep that beautiful state of matters April, going on. A state of matters lovely to contemplate in these emancipated epochs of the human mind; which has earned us not only the praises of Exeter Hall, and loud, long eared hallelujahs of laudatory psalmody from the friends of freedom everywhere, but lasting favor (it is hoped) from the Heavenly Powers themselves, and which may, at least, justly appeal to the Heavenly Powers, and ask them, if ever in terrestrial procedure they saw the match of it? Certainly in the past history of the human species it has no parallel: nor, one, hopes, will it have in the future. [Some emotion in the audience, which the chairman suppressed.]

Sunk in deep froth oceans of “Benevolence,” “Fraternity,” “Emancipation-principle,” “Christian Philanthropy,” and other amiable-looking, but most baseless, and in the end baleful and all-bewildering jargon, sad product of a sceptical eighteenth century, and of poor human hearts left destitute of any earnest guidance, and disbelieving that there ever was any, Christian or Heathen, and reduced to believe in rose-pink Sentimentalism alone, and to cultivate the same under its Christian, Antichristian, Broad-brimmed, Brutus-braded, and other forms, has not the human species gone strange roads during that period? And poor Exeter Hall, cultivating the Broad-brimmed form of Christian Sentimentalism, and long talking and bleating and braying in that strain, has it not worked out results? Our West Indian legislatings, with their spoutings, anti-spoutings, and interminable jangle and babble; our twenty millions down on the nail for blacks of our own; thirty gradual millions more, and many brave British lives to boot, in watching blacks of other people’s; and now at last our ruined sugar-estates, differential sugar-duties, “immigration loan,” and beautiful blacks sitting there up to the ears in pumpkins, and doleful whites sitting here without potatoes to eat: never till now, I think, did the sun look down on such a jumble of human nonsenses. God grant that the measure may now at last be full! But no, it is not yet full; we have a long way to travel back, and terrible flounderings to make, and in fact an immense load of nonsense to dislodge from our poor heads, and manifold cobwebs to rend from our poor eyes, before we get into the road again, and can begin to act as serious men that have work to do in this universe, and no longer as windy sentimentalists that merely have speeches to deliver and despatches to write. O, Heaven, in West Indian matters, and in all manner of matters, it is so with us: the more is the sorrow!

The West Indies, it appears, are short of labor, as indeed is very conceivable in those circumstances. Where a black man, by working about half an hour a day (such is the calculation), can supply himself, by aid of sun and soil, with as much pumpkin as will suffice, he is likely to be a little stiff to raise into hard work! Supply and demand, which science says should be brought to bear on him, have an uphill task of it with such a man. Strong sun supplies itself gratis, rich soil in those unpeopled, or half-peopled regions almost gratis; these are his “supply,” and half an hour a day, directed upon these, will produce pumpkin, which is his “demand.” The fortunate black man, very swiftly does he settle his account with supply and demand ; not so swiftly the less fortunate white man of those tropical localities. A bad case his, just now. He himself cannot work; and his black neighbor, rich in pumpkin, is in no haste to help him. Sunk to the ears in pumpkin, imbibing saccharine juices, and much at his ease in the creation, he can listen to the less fortunate white man’s “demand,” and take his own time in supplying it. Higher wages, massa; higher, for your cane-crop cannot wait; still higher, till no conceivable opulence of cane-crop will cover such wages. In Demerara, as I read in the blue book of last year, the cane-crop, far and wide, stands rotting; the fortunate black gentlemen, strong in their pumpkins, having all struck till the “demand” rise a little. Sweet, blighted lilies, now getting up their heads again!

Science, however, has a remedy still. Since the demand is so pressing, and the supply so inadequate, (equal in fact to nothing in some places, as appears,) increase the supply; bring more blacks into the labor market, then will the rate fall, says science. Not the least surprising part of our West-Indian policy is this recipe of “immigration;” of keeping down the labor-market in those islands by importing new Africans to labor and live there.* (* What Carlyle here states was a fact. After it was found that the emancipated negroes would not work, the Exeter Hall fanatics actually proposed to import from some region a fresh supply of negroes.) If the Africans that are already there could be made to lay down their pumpkins, and labor for their living, there are already Africans enough. If the new Africans, after laboring a little, take to pumpkins like the others, what remedy is there? To bring in new and ever new Africans, say you, till pumpkins themselves grow dear; till the country is crowded with Africans; and black men there, like white men here, are forced by hunger to labor for their living? That will be a consummation. To have “emancipated” the West Indies into a Black Ireland; “free,” indeed, but an Ireland, and Black! The world may yet see prodigies; and reality be stranger than a nightmare dream.

Our own white or sallow Ireland, sluttishly starving from age to age on its act-of-parliament “freedom,” was hitherto the flower of mismanagement among the nations; but what will this be to a Negro Ireland, with pumpkins themselves fallen scarce like potatoes? Imagination cannot fathom such an object; the belly of Chaos never held the like. The human mind, in its wide wanderings, has not dreamt yet of such a “freedom” as that will be. Towards that, if Exeter Hall and science of supply and demand are to continue our guides in the matter, we are daily traveling, and even struggling, with loans of half a million and such like, to accelerate ourselves.

Truly, my philanthropic friends, Exeter Hall philanthropy is wonderful. And the social science — not a “gay science,” but a rueful — which finds the secret of this universe in “supply and demand,” and reduces the duty of human governors to that of letting men alone, is also wonderful. Not a “gay science,” I should say, like some we have heard of; no, a dreary, desolate, and indeed quite abject and distressing one; what we might call, by way of eminence, the dismal science. These two, Exeter Hall philanthropy and the dismal science, led by any sacred cause of black emancipation, or the like, to fall in love and make a wedding of it, will give birth to progenies and prodigies; dark, extensive moon-calves, unnameable abortions, wide-coiled monstrosities, such as the world has not seen hitherto! [Increased emotion, again suppressed by the chairman.]

In fact, it will behoove us of this English nation to overhaul our West Indian procedure from top to bottom, and ascertain a little better what it is that fact and nature demand of us, and what only Exeter Hall wedded to the Dismal Science demands. To the former set of demands we will endeavor, at our peril, and worse peril than our purse’, at our soul’s peril, to give all obedience. To the latter we will very frequently demur, and try if we can — not stop short where they contradict the former, and especially before arriving at the black throat of ruin, whither they appear to be leading us. Alas! in many other provinces besides the West Indian, that unhappy wedlock of Philanthropic Liberalism and the Dismal Science has engendered such all-enveloping delusions, of the moon-calf sort, and wrought huge woe for us, and the poor civilized world, in these days. And sore will be the battle with said moon-calves; and terrible the struggle to return out of our delusions, floating rapidly on which, not the West Indies alone, but Europe generally, is nearing the Niagara Falls. [Here various persons, in an agitated manner, with an air of indignation, left the room, especially one very tall gentleman in white trousers, whose boots creaked much. The President, in a resolved voice, with a look of official rigor, whatever his own private feelings might be, enjoined “silence, silence!” The meeting again sat motionless.]

My philanthropic friends, can you discern no fixed headlands in this wide-weltering deluge of benevolent twaddle and revolutionary grape-shot, that has burst forth on us; no sure bearings at all? Fact and Nature, it seems to me, say a few words to us, if happily we have still an ear for fact and nature. Let us listen a little and try.

And first, with regard to the West Indies, it may be laid down as a principle, which no eloquence in Exeter Hall, or Westminster Hall, or elsewhere, can invalidate or hide, except for a short time only, that no black man who will not work according to what ability the gods have given him for working, has the smallest right to eat pumpkin, or to any fraction of land that will grow pumpkin, however plentiful such land may be; but has an indisputable and perpetual right to be compelled, by the real proprietors of said land, to do competent work for his living. This is the everlasting duty of all men, black or white, who are born into this world. To do competent work, to labor honestly according to the ability given them; for that and for no other purpose was each one of us sent into this world; and woe is to every man who, by friend or by foe, is prevented from fulfilling this the end of his being. That is the “unhappy” lot; lot equally unhappy cannot otherwise be provided for man. Whatsoever prohibits or prevents a man from this his sacred appointment to labor while he lives on earth, that, I say, is the man’s deadliest enemy; and all men are called upon to do what is in their power or opportunity towards delivering him from that. If it be his own indolence that prevents and prohibits him, then his own indolence is the enemy he must be delivered from: and the first “right” he has, poor, indolent blockhead, black or white, is, that every unprohibited man, whatsoever wiser, more industrious person may be passing that way, shall endeavor to “emancipate” him from his indolence, and by some wise means, as I said, compel him, since inducing will not serve, to do the work he is fit for. Induce him if you can; yes, sure enough, by all means try what inducement will do; and indeed every coachman and carman knows that secret, without our preaching, and applies it to his very horses as the true method: — but if your nigger will not be induced? In that case, it is full certain he must be compelled; should and must; and the tacit prayer he makes (unconsciously he, poor blockhead,) to you, and to me, and to all the world who are wiser than himself, is “compel me!” For indeed he must, or else do and suffer worse, he as well as we. It were better the work did come out of him! It was the meaning of the gods with him and with us, that his gift should turn, to use in this creation, and not lie poisoning the thorough-fares, as a rotten mass of idleness, agreeable to neither heaven nor earth. For idleness does, in all cases, inevitably rot, and become putrescent; and I say deliberately, the very devil is in it.

None of you, my friends, have been in Demerara lately, I apprehend. May none of you go till matters mend there a little. Under the sky there are uglier sights than perhaps were seen hitherto. Dead corpses, the rotting body of a brother man, whom fate or unjust men have killed, this is not a pleasant spectacle; but what say you to the dead soul of a man, in a body which still pretends to be vigorously alive, and can drink rum? An idle white gentleman is not pleasant to me; though I confess the real work for him is not easy to find, in these our epochs; and perhaps he is seeking, poor soul, and may find at last. But what say you to an idle black gentleman, with his rum-bottle in his hand, (for a little additional pumpkin you can have red herrings and rum in Demerara,) rum- bottle in his hand, no breeches on his body, pumpkin at discretion, and the fruitfullest region of the earth going back to jungle round him? Such things the sun looks down upon in our fine times; and I, for one, would rather have no hand in them.* (* What a frightful picture of the results of emancipation! What a looking-glass for us to see our foolish faces in!)

Yes, this is the eternal law of nature for a man, my beneficent Exeter Hall friends; this, that he shall be permitted, encouraged, and if need be, compelled to do what work the Maker of him has intended by the making of him for this world. Not that he should eat pumpkin with never such felicity in the West India Islands is, or can be, the blessedness of our black friend but that he should do useful work there, according as the gifts have been bestowed on him for that. And his own happiness, and that of others round him, will alone be possible by his and their getting into such a relation that this can be permitted him, and in case of need that this can be compelled him. I beg you to understand this; for you seem to have a little forgotten it, and there lie a thousand inferences in it, not quite useless for Exeter Hall, at present. The idle black man in the West Indies had, not long since, the right, and will again under better form, if it please Heaven, have the right (actually the first “right of man” for an indolent person) to be compelled to work as he was fit, and to do the Maker’s will who had constructed him with such and such capabilities, and prefigurements of capability. And I incessantly pray Heaven, all men, the whitest alike and the blackest, the richest and the poorest, in other regions of the world, had attained precisely the same right, the divine right of being compelled (if “permitted” will not answer) to do the work they are appointed for, and not to go idle another minute, in a life which is so short, and where idleness so soon runs to putrescence. Alas! we had then a perfect world; and the Millennium, and true “Organization of Labor,” and complete blessedness, for all workers and men, had then arrived, which in these our own poor districts of the Planet, as we all lament to know, it is very far from having yet done. (More withdrawals; but the rest sitting with increased attention.).

I’m not afraid to calmly assert today, at 60 years of age, after all my experiences with men and books, with speeches and situations, that the great speech by Donoso on dictatorship on January 4th, 1849 is the greatest speech in world literature. And with that I make no exceptions to Pericles and Demosthenes, nor for Cicero or Mirabeau or Burke.

Gentlemen.

The long speech delivered yesterday by Mr. Cortina, and to which I am about to reply, considering it from a limited perspective in spite of its length, was nothing more than an epilogue; the epilogue of the errors of the Progressive Party, which, at the same time are nothing more than another epilogue; the epilogue of all the errors that have spawned over the last three centuries and which have shaken up all human societies of today.

Mr. Cortina, at the beginning of his speech, stated with the good faith appropriate to a member of the House, and that so much enhances his flair, that he himself had sometimes come to suspect whether his principles were false, whether his ideas would be disastrous, seeing as they were never in power, and always in the opposition. I will let the member of this House know that, as soon as he reflects on this, his doubts will be turned into certainty. Your ideas are not in power, but rather in the opposition entirely, because they are opposition ideas. Gentlemen, they are infertile ideas, sterile ideas, disastrous ideas, that must be fought until they die, that must be fought until they are buried here, in their natural cemetery, under these vaults, at the foot of this tribune.

Mr. Cortina, following the customs of the party which he leads and represents; following, the customs of this party since the February revolution, delivered a speech divided into three parts, which I shall call inevitable.

First, a eulogy of the party, based on an account of its past merits. Second, a memorial of the party's present grievances. Third, a program, that is to say, an account of the party's future merits.

Members of the majority, I come here to defend your principles, but do not expect from me a single eulogy. You are the victors, and nothing sits on the victor's brow like a crown of modesty.

Do not expect from me, gentlemen, to speak of your grievances. You have no personal grievances to avenge, but the grievances done to society and to the throne by traitors to their Queen and to the homeland. I will not speak of your list of merits. To what end should I talk about them? So that the nation can get to know them? The nation knows them by heart.

Mr. Cortina, divided his speech into two questions, which are of course well known to all Members of Parliament. He touched on the Government’s foreign policy and he called the past events in Paris, London, and Rome, important items of foreign policy for Spain. I shall also touch on these matters.

The Member of this House then turned to domestic policy, and domestic policy, as Mr. Cortina has dealt with it, is divided into two parts: one, a question of principles, and the other, a question of facts. One, a question of system, and the other, a question of conduct. The question of facts, the question of conduct, has already been answered by the Ministry, which is the one who should have answered, which is the one who has the information to do so, by the authorities of the Prime Minister and the Minister of Home Affairs4, who have carried out this task with the eloquence they have accustomed us to. The question of principle remains for me mostly unanswered. This question alone I will take up. But I will take it up, if the Congress will allow me, in full.

Gentlemen, what is Mr. Cortina's principle? Mr. Cortina’s principle, if we analyze his speech properly, is as follows. In domestic policy: legality, everything for legality, everything by legality, legality always, legality in all circumstances, legality in all cases. And I, gentlemen, who believe that laws were made for society, and not society for laws, say that society, everything for society, everything by society, society always, society in all circumstances, society in all cases.

When legality is enough to save society, legality; when it is not enough, dictatorship. Gentlemen, this tremendous word, which is tremendous, though not as tremendous as the word ‘revolution,’ which is the most tremendous of all. I say that this tremendous word has been pronounced here by a man you all know, he was certainly not cut from the cloth of dictators. I was born to understand them, I was not born to imitate them. Two things are impossible for me: to condemn dictatorship and to exercise it. That is why I declare it here loudly, nobly and frankly. I am incapable of governing. I cannot accept government in good conscience. I could not accept it without putting half of myself at war with the other half, by putting my instinct at war with my reason, by putting my reason at war with my instinct.

This is why, gentlemen, and I appeal to the testimony of all those who know me, no one can stand either here or elsewhere, who has stumbled with me on the path of ambition, so crowded. No one. But all will find me, all have found me in the modest path of good citizens. Only thus, gentlemen, when my days are numbered, when I go down to the grave, will I go down without the remorse of having left society attacked on a dismal manner, without defense, and at the same time without the bitter and, for me, unbearable pain of having done wrong to a man.

I say, gentlemen, that dictatorship in certain circumstances, in given circumstances, in circumstances such as the present, is a legitimate government. It is a good government. It is an advantageous government like any other government. It is a rational government, which can be defended in theory, as it can be defended in practice. And if not, gentlemen, see what social life is. Social life, gentlemen, like human life, is composed of action and reaction, of the ebb and flow of certain invading forces and of certain resisting forces.

This is social life, just as this is human life. Well then, the invading forces, called diseases in the human body, as well as in the social body, but being essentially the same thing, have two states. There is one in which they are spread over the whole of society, in which these invading forces are re-concentrated only in individuals. There is another very acute state of disease, in which they are more re-concentrated, and are represented by political associations. Furthermore, I say that since the resisting forces do not exist in the human body as well as in the social body, but only to repel the invading forces, they must necessarily be proportioned to their state. When the invading forces are scattered, the resisting forces are scattered too. They are scattered by the government, by the authorities and by the courts, and in a word, by the whole social body. But when the invading forces are intensified in political associations, then necessarily, without anyone being able to prevent it, without anyone having the right to prevent it, the resisting forces themselves are concentrated into a single hand. This is the clear, gleaming, indestructible theory of dictatorship.

And this theory, gentlemen, which is a truth in the rational order, is a constant fact in the historical order. Give me a society which has not had a dictatorship, give one to me. In Athens, this omnipotent power was in the hands of the people, and it was called ostracism. In Rome, this omnipotent power was in the hands of the Senate, which delegated it to a consul and it was called dictatorship, as it is today. Look at modern societies, gentlemen; look at France in all its hardships. I will not speak of the First Republic, which was a gigantic dictatorship without end, full of blood and horrors. I am speaking of later times. In the Charter of the Restoration, the dictatorship had sought refuge or asylum in article 14. In the Charter of 1830, it was found in the preamble. And in the present republic, let us say nothing of this one. What else is it but a dictatorship under the name of ‘Republic’?

Mr. Gálvez Cañero has quoted here, in an ill-timed manner, the English Constitution. Gentlemen, the English Constitution is quite rightly the only one in the world, so wise are the Englishmen, in which dictatorship is not exceptional law but the law of the land. And this matter is clear: Parliament has this power at all times, in all places, when it wills, for it has no limit but that of all human powers: Prudence. It has all the powers, and these constitute the dictatorial power, to do all everything, except turning a woman into a man, or a man a woman, as their legal experts say. It has powers to suspend habeas corpus, to proscribe by a bill of attainder: it can change the constitution, it can change even the dynasty, and not only the dynasty, but even the religion, and suppress religious consciences; in a word: it can do everything. Who ever saw, gentlemen, a more monstrous dictatorship?

I have proved that dictatorship is a truth in the theoretical order and a fact in the historical order. But now I will say more: dictatorship, one could say, is another fact in the divine order.

Gentlemen, God, to a certain extent, has left to men the government of human societies, and has reserved to Himself exclusively the government of the universe. The Universe is governed by God, if I may say so; and if these terms of parliamentary language could be applied to such high things, I would say that God governs the world constitutionally. And, gentlemen, the matter seems to me to be of the greatest clarity, and, above all, of the greatest evidence. It is governed by certain precise, indispensable laws, which are called secondary causes. And what are these laws, if not laws analogous to those which are called fundamental in relation to human societies?

Then, gentlemen, if with regard to the physical world, God is the legislator, as the legislators are to human societies, if only on a different manner; does God always govern by those same laws which He imposed upon himself in his eternal wisdom, and to which he subjected us all? No, gentlemen, for sometimes He directly, clearly, and explicitly manifests His sovereign will, breaking those same laws which He imposed upon Himself, and twisting the natural course of things. Well, gentlemen, when He acts in this way, could it not be said, if human language could be applied to divine things, that He acts dictatorially?

This proves, gentlemen, how great is the delirium of a political party that believes it can govern with less means than God, renouncing for itself the sometimes necessary means of dictatorship. Gentlemen, this being so, the question, reduced to its true terms, no longer consists in ascertaining whether dictatorship is sustainable, whether in certain circumstances it is good. The question consists in ascertaining whether these circumstances have taken place in Spain. This is the most important point, and it is the one to which I am now going to confine myself exclusively. For this I shall have to take a glance, and in this I shall do no more than to follow in the footsteps of all the speakers who have preceded me; a glance into Europe and another glance into Spain.

Gentlemen, the February revolution came as death comes, suddenly. God, gentlemen, had condemned the French monarchy. In vain had this institution undergone a profound transformation to adapt itself to the circumstances and to the times; even this did not avail it. Its sentence was unappealable, and its loss unerring. The monarchy of divine right ended with Louis XVI on a scaffold. The monarchy of Glory ended with Napoleon on an island. The hereditary monarchy ended with Charles X in exile. And with Louis Philippe, the last of all possible monarchies, the monarchy of Prudence, has ended. A sad and lamentable spectacle, gentlemen, that for a most venerable, most ancient, most glorious institution, for whom neither divine right, nor legitimacy, nor prudence, nor glory are of any value!

Gentlemen, when the great news of this great revolution came to Spain, we were all dismayed and astonished. Nothing was comparable to our astonishment and dismay, but the dismay and astonishment of the defeated monarchy. I stand corrected, there was even a greater astonishment, a greater consternation than that of the vanquished Monarchy, and that was that of the victorious Republic. Even now, ten months since its triumph; ask her how it won; ask her why she won; ask her with what forces she won, and she will not know how to answer you. This is because the Republic did not win, the Republic was the instrument of victory of a higher power.

That power, gentlemen, when its work is accomplished, just as it was strong enough to destroy the monarchy like the Republic did, will be strong enough, if necessary and appropriate to its ends, to overthrow the Republic with the heed of an empire, or with the heed of a monarchy. This revolution, gentlemen, has been the subject of a great debate on its causes and its effects, in all the forums of Europe, and among others in the Spanish forum. I have contemplated here and there the pitiful slackness with which the deep causes of revolutions are inspected. Gentlemen, here, as elsewhere, revolutions are attributed only to the defects of governments. When catastrophes are all-encompassing, unforeseen, and simultaneous, they are always providential. For, gentlemen, these and no other are the characteristics which distinguish the works of God from the works of men.

When revolutions present such symptoms, rest assured that they come from heaven, and that they come through the fault and for the punishment of all. Do you wish, gentlemen, to know the truth, and the whole truth concerning the causes of the last French revolution? For the truth came on the day of the great liquidation of all classes of society with Providence, and on that dreadful day all have been found a failure. And I say it again, that on that day they came for a liquidation with Providence, and that in that liquidation they have all found themselves a failure. I say more, gentlemen: the Republic itself, on the very day of its victory, declared itself bankrupt. The Republic had said of herself that she had come to establish in the world the domination of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, those three dogmas that do not come from the Republic, but come from the Calvary. Well, gentlemen, what did she do next? In the name of Liberty, she has made dictatorship necessary, she has proclaimed, she has accepted dictatorship. In the name of Equality, with the title of republicans of the yesteryear, of republicans of the day after, of republicans by birth, she has invented a certain kind of aristocratic democracy and a certain kind of ridiculous coat of arms. In short, gentlemen, in the name of Fraternity, she has restored the pagan fraternity, the fraternity of Eteocles and Polynices; and the brothers have devoured one another in the streets of Paris, in the most gigantic battle that the centuries have witnessed within the walls of any city. This Republic, the so-called Republic of the three truths, I disavow. It is the Republic of the three blasphemies, the Republic of the three lies.

Coming now to the causes of this revolution, the Progressive Party presents the same diagnosis for everything. Mr. Cortina told us yesterday that there are revolutions because there are illegalities, and because the instinct of the people raises them uniformly and spontaneously against tyrants. Earlier, Mr. Ordax Avecilla had told us: “You want to avoid revolutions, feed the hungry.” Here, is the theory of the Progressive Party in its full extent: the causes of revolution are poverty on the one hand, and tyranny on the other. Gentlemen, this theory is opposite, in complete opposition to History. I ask you to cite an example of a revolution made and carried out by slave peoples or starving peoples. Revolutions are diseases of rich peoples; revolutions are diseases of free peoples. The ancient world was a command in which slaves made up the greater part of the human race; give me a revolution made by those slaves.

From the benches on the left side of Parliament: “Spartacus’ Rebellion!”

The most they could do was to push for a few civil wars; but the profound revolutions have always been carried out by the most powerful aristocrats. No, gentlemen, it is not in slavery, it is not in misery that the germ of revolutions lies, the germ of revolutions lies in the overexcited desires of the masses, caused by the politicians who exploit and benefit from them:

‘And you shall be like the rich.’ That is the formula of the socialist revolutions against the middle classes.

‘And you shall be like the nobles.’ That is the formula of the revolutions of the middle classes against the noble classes.

‘And you will be like kings.’ That is the formula of the revolutions of the noble classes against the kings.

Finally, gentlemen, ‘and you will be like Gods.’ That is the formula of the first rebellion of the first man against God. From Adam, the first rebel, to Proudhon, the last impious, that is the formula of all revolutions.

The Spanish government, as it was its duty, did not want this formula to be applied in Spain, especially since the internal situation was not the most flattering; and it was necessary to prevent both internal and external eventualities. In order not to have done so, it was necessary to have been completely unaware of the magnetic current which flows from the centers of revolutionary action, and which infects everything in the world.

The domestic situation, in a nutshell, was thus. The political question was not, nor has never been completely resolved. Political questions are not so easily resolved in societies so rife with passions. The dynastic question was not settled because, although it is true that in it we are the victors, we did not get the resignation of the vanquished, which is the complement of victory. The religious question was in a very bad state. The question of the wedding of the Queen, as you all know, was exacerbated. I ask you, gentlemen, supposing, as I have already proved, that the dictatorship is, in certain circumstances, legitimate, in given circumstances beneficial, were we or were we not in those circumstances? If not, tell me how many more grave ones have appeared in the world.

Experience has shown that the calculations of the government and the foresight of this House had not been unfounded. All of you know, gentlemen, that the republic was proclaimed by the fire of blunderbusses in the streets of Madrid. All of you know that parts of the garrison of Madrid and Seville were taken over. All of you know that without the active, energetic resistance of the Government, the whole of Spain, from the Pillars of Hercules to the Pyrenees, from one sea to another, would have been a lake of blood. And not only Spain. Do you know what evils, had the revolution triumphed, would have spread throughout the world? Ah, gentlemen! When one thinks of these things, one must proclaim that the Executive, who knew how to resist and how to win, was worthy of its country.

This question has been complicated by the English question. Before I go into it (and I mention to you now that I shall only go into it in order to leave it immediately, because I think it is convenient and appropriate), Congress must allow me to present some general ideas which seem to me to be appropriate.

Gentlemen, I have always believed that blindness is a sign of perdition in men, in governments, as well as in nations. I believe that God always begins by blinding those He wants to lose; I believe that in order that they may not see the abyss He places at their feet, He begins by troubling their minds. Applying these ideas to the general policy pursued for some years now by England and France, gentlemen, I will say here, I have long since predicted great misfortunes and catastrophes. A historical fact, an established fact, an indisputable fact is that the providential task of France is to be the instrument of Providence in the propagation of new ideas, political as well as religious and social. In modern times three great ideas have invaded Europe: the Catholic idea, the philosophical idea, the revolutionary idea.

Well, gentlemen, in these three eras, France has made man to propagate these ideas: Charlemagne was France made man to propagate the Catholic idea, Voltaire was France made man to propagate the philosophical idea, Napoleon has been France made man to propagate the revolutionary idea. In the same way I believe that the providential duty of England is to maintain the just moral equilibrium of the world, in perpetual contrast with France. France is the flow, and England, the ebb of the sea.

Imagine for a moment the ebb without the flow; the seas would spread over all the continents. Imagine the flow without the ebb, the seas would disappear from the earth. Imagine France without England; the world would move only in convulsions, every day would have a new constitution, every hour a new form of government. Imagine England without France: the world would always grow under the charter of the venerable John Lackland, which is the permanent type of all British constitutions. What then, gentlemen, does the coexistence of these two mighty nations mean? It means, gentlemen, progress limited by stability, stability animated by progress.

Well, gentlemen, for some years now, and I appeal to recent history and to your memories, these two great nations have lost the memory of their deeds, they have lost the memory of their providential task in the world. France, instead of spreading new ideas on earth, preached everywhere the status quo: the status quo in France, the status quo in Spain, the status quo in Italy, the status quo in the East. And England, instead of preaching stability, preached revolts everywhere: in Spain, in Portugal, in France, in Italy and in Greece. And what was the result of this? What was bound to happen; that the two nations, playing a role which had never been theirs, played it poorly. France wanted to turn from a devil into a preacher; England from a preacher into a devil.

This, gentlemen, is the contemporary history. But speaking only of England, for it is England that I intend to speak about very briefly, I will say that I pray to heaven, gentlemen, that the catastrophes which she deserves because of her mistakes may not come upon her, as they have come upon France; for nothing is comparable to the mistake of England in supporting everywhere the revolutionary parties. How miserable! Does she not know that in the day of danger those parties with more instinct than herself will turn their backs on her? Has this not already happened? And it must have happened, gentlemen, because all the revolutionaries of the world know that when revolutions are in earnest, when the clouds gather, when the horizons darken, when the waves rise high, the ship of the revolution has no other pilot than France.

Gentlemen, this was the policy pursued by England, or rather by her government and her agents during the last era. I have said, and I repeat, that I do not wish to deal with this question; I am moved by great considerations. First: the consideration of the public good, because I must solemnly declare here that I want the closest alliance, the most complete union between the Spanish nation and the English nation, whom I admire and respect as perhaps the freest, strongest and most worthy nation on earth. Therefore, I do not wish to exacerbate this question by my words, nor do I wish to prejudice or embarrass further negotiations. There is another consideration which moves me to speak no more of this matter. To speak of ‘him’ I should have to do so in the same manner as I would speak of a man I was friends with, more of a friend than Mr. Cortina was; but I cannot help him to the extent that Mr. Cortina helped him. Honor restricts me to speak no further on this matter.

“Bulwer!”, the name of the British ambassador, is echoed from the benches.

Mr. Cortina, in dealing with this issue, let me honestly tell you, had a sort of dizzy spell, and he forgot who he was, where he was and who we were. He thought he was a lawyer, and he was not a lawyer, he was a speaker in Parliament. The right honorable gentleman thought he was speaking before judges, but he was speaking before deputies. He thought he was speaking in a court, but he was speaking in an assembly hall. He thought he was speaking of a lawsuit, but he was speaking of a great, national, political affair, which, if it was ever a lawsuit, it was a lawsuit between two nations. Now then, gentlemen, must it hurt Mr. Cortina deeply to have been the lawyer of the party opposing the Spanish nation? And what, gentlemen, is that patriotism? Is that to be patriotic? Ah, no. Do you know what it is to be patriotic? To be a patriot, gentlemen, is to love, is to hate, is to feel how our country loves, how it hates.

I said, gentlemen, that I would pass very lightly over this question, and I have already passed.

After the time set for this procedure is exceeded, the Congress is asked if the session shall be extended. After a display of unanimity from the benches, this was agreed.

But, gentlemen, neither the internal circumstances, which were so serious, nor the external circumstances, which were so complicated and dangerous, are enough to diminish the opposition of the gentlemen who sit on those benches. And Liberty, they tell us. So what! Liberty, is it not above all? And Liberty, at least individual liberty, has it not been sacrificed? Liberty, gentlemen! Do you know the principle you proclaim and the name uttered by those who pronounce that sacred word? Do you know the times in which you live? Hasn’t the sound of the latest catastrophes reached us, gentlemen? Don’t you know at this hour that Liberty is at an end? What then, have you not witnessed, as I have witnessed with the eyes of my spirit, her painful passion? What then, gentlemen, have you not seen her vexed, scorned, and grievously wounded by all the demagogues of the world? Have you not seen Liberty carry her anguish over the mountains of Switzerland, along the banks of the Seine, along the banks of the Rhine and the Danube, along the banks of the Tiber? Have you not seen her climb the Quirinal, which has been her Calvary?

Gentlemen, the word is a terrible one; but we must not shrink from uttering terrible words if they speak the truth, and I am resolved to speak it. Liberty is finished! It will not end, gentlemen, not on the third day, nor in the third year, nor in the third century. Do you like the tyranny we suffer, gentlemen? You are not fearful enough; you shall see greater things. And here I beg you, gentlemen, to keep my words in your memory, because what I am going to say, the events that I am going to announce in the nearer or more distant future, but not too distant, will be fulfilled to the letter.

The basis, gentlemen, of all your errors (addressing the benches on the left) consists in not knowing what is the direction of civilization and of the world. You think that civilization and the world are advancing, when civilization and the world are withdrawing. The world, gentlemen, is rapidly moving towards the constitution of a despotism, the most gigantic and devastating despotism in human memory. This is what civilization is moving towards, and this is what the world is moving towards. To announce these things I need not be a prophet. It is enough for me to consider the dreadful combination of human events from their only true point of view, from the Catholic perspective.

Gentlemen, there are but two possible repressions, one internal and the other external; the religious and the political. These are of such a nature that when the religious thermometer is high, the thermometer of political repression is low. And when the religious thermometer is low, the political thermometer, political repression, tyranny is high. This is a law of humanity, a law of history. And if not, gentlemen, see what the world was like, see what the society on the other side of the cross of Christ was like, see what it was like when there was no internal repression, when there was no religious repression. Then it was a society of tyrannies and slaves. Name a single town where there were no slaves and where there was no tyranny. This is an incontrovertible fact, this is an incontrovertible fact, this is an obvious fact.

Liberty, true liberty, the liberty of all and for all came into the world only with the Savior of the world. This is also an incontrovertible fact, a fact accepted even by the socialists themselves, who confess it. The socialists call Jesus a divine man, and the socialists do more, they call themselves his continuators. His continuators, good God! They, the men of blood and vengeance, continuators of the One who lived only to do good, who opened His mouth only to bless, who did no wonders except to deliver sinners from sin, the dead from death, who in the space of three years brought the greatest revolution that the centuries have witnessed, and accomplished it without shedding more blood than His own?

Gentlemen, I beg your attention; I am going to place you in the presence of the most splendid parallelism that History has to offer. You have seen that in the ancient world, when religious repression could not go down any further because there was none, political repression went up until it could not go any further, because it had gone up to the level of tyranny. Well, with Jesus Christ, where religious repression is born, political repression disappears completely. This is so true that Jesus Christ, having founded a society with his disciples, was the only society that ever existed without government. Between Jesus and His disciples there was no government except the love of the Master for the disciples and the love of the disciples for the Master. That is to say, when repression was complete, freedom was absolute.

Let us continue with the parallelism. We come to the apostolic times, from which I will continue, because it suits my purpose now, from the apostolic times proper to the rise of Christianity to the Capitol in the time of Constantine the Great. At that time, gentlemen, the Christian religion, that is to say, internal religious repression, was at its height. But although it was at its height, what happens in all societies composed of men happened, that a germ began to develop, nothing more than a germ of religious liberty and freedom. Well, gentlemen, observe the parallelism: to this principle of descent in the religious thermometer corresponds a principle of ascent in the political thermometer. There is no government yet, there is no need for government, but a germ of government is already necessary. Thus in Christian society at that time there were in fact no real magistrates, but arbitration judges and amicable mediators, who are the embryo of government. The Christians of apostolic times did not have lawsuits, they did not go to court, they decided their disputes by arbitration. Observe, gentlemen, how government grows with corruption.

Feudal times came, and in those times religion was still at its height, but to a certain extent tainted by human passions. What is happening, gentlemen, at this time in the political world? That a real and effective government is now necessary, but that the weakest of all is sufficient, and so the feudal monarchy, the weakest of all monarchies, is established.

Let us continue with the parallelism. Gentlemen, the 16th century arrived. In this century, with the great Lutheran Reformation, with that great political and social as well as religious controversy, with that act of intellectual and moral emancipation of the peoples, the following institutions appear. In the first place, at that moment, monarchies, from feudalism, become absolute. Would you believe, gentlemen, that a monarchy cannot be more than absolute: a government, what can be more than absolute? But it was necessary, gentlemen, that the thermometer of political repression should rise higher, because the religious thermometer continued to fall; and indeed it rose higher. And what new institution was created? And do you know, gentlemen, what standing armies are? To know, it is enough to know what a soldier is: a soldier is a slave in uniform. So you see that the moment religious repression descends, political repression rises to absolutism, and goes beyond it. It was not enough for governments to be absolute; they asked for and obtained the privilege of being absolute and having a million arms.

In spite of this, gentlemen, it was necessary for the political thermometer to rise further, because the religious thermometer was still falling; and it rose further. What new institution, gentlemen, was then created? The governments said: we have a million arms and they are not enough; we need more, we need a million eyes. And they had the police, and with the police a million eyes. In spite of this, gentlemen, the political thermometer and political repression still had to rise, because in spite of everything, the religious thermometer kept falling. And they rose.

It was not enough for the governments, gentlemen, to have a million arms; it was not enough for them to have a million eyes; they wanted to have a million ears, and they got them with administrative centralization, through which all complaints and grievances come to the government.

Well, gentlemen, that was not enough, because the religious thermometer continued to fall, and it was necessary for the political thermometer to rise further. Gentlemen, how high! Well, it went higher.

The governments said: a million arms are not enough to suppress, a million eyes are not enough to suppress, a million ears are not enough to suppress; we need more. We need the privilege of being everywhere at the same time. And they had it; and then the telegraph was invented.

Gentlemen, such was the state of Europe and of the world when the first outbreak of the last revolution came to announce to us, to announce to us all, that there was not enough despotism in the world; for the religious thermometer was below zero. Now, gentlemen, one of two things…

I have promised, and I will keep my word, to speak frankly today.

Well, one of two things: either the religious reaction will come or it will not: If there is a religious reaction, you will see, gentlemen, how, as the religious thermometer rises, the political thermometer will begin to fall naturally, spontaneously, without any effort on the part of peoples, governments or men, until it points to the temperate day of the freedom of the peoples. But if, on the contrary, gentlemen, and this is serious; it is not the custom to draw the attention of deliberative assemblies to the questions to which I have drawn it today, but the gravity of the events of the world grants me, and I believe that your benevolence will also allow me to do it. Well, gentlemen, I say that if the religious thermometer continues to fall, I do not know where we will end up. I do not know, gentlemen, and I tremble when I think about it. Consider the analogies which I have laid before your eyes. And if religious repression was at its height there was no need of any government at all, when religious repression does not exist, there will be no government of any kind, and all despotisms will be few in number.

Gentlemen, this is the question of Spain, the question of Europe, the question of Humanity, the question of the World.

Consider one thing, gentlemen. In the ancient world tyranny was fierce and ravaging, and yet that tyranny was physically limited, because all the States were small, and because international relations were impossible in every respect; therefore in antiquity there could be no tyrannies on a large scale, but only one, that of Rome. But now, gentlemen, how things have changed! Gentlemen, the paths are set for a gigantic, colossal, all-encompassing, immense tyrant Everything is prepared for it. Gentlemen, look at it well. There is no longer any physical or moral resistance. No physical resistance, because with steamships and railways there are no frontiers. No physical resistance, because with the electric telegraph there are no distances. And no moral resistance, because all minds are split and all patriotisms are dead. Tell me, then, whether I am right or wrong when I worry about the near future of the world; tell me whether I am not dealing with the real question when I deal with this question.

Only one thing can avert the catastrophe, one thing and nothing else: it cannot be averted by giving more freedom, more guarantees, new constitutions. It can be averted by all of us trying, as far as we can, to provoke a wise, religious reaction. Now then, gentlemen, is such a reaction possible? It is possible, but is it probable? Gentlemen, I speak here with the deepest sorrow, I do not think it is likely. I have seen, gentlemen, and I have known many individuals who have left the faith and returned to it. Unfortunately, gentlemen, I have never seen any people who have returned to the faith after having lost it.

If I still had any hope left, it would have been faded, gentlemen, by the recent events in Rome. And here I will say two words on this question, which has also been dealt with by Mr. Cortina.

Gentlemen, the events in Rome do not have a name, for what would you call them, gentlemen? Would you call them deplorable? Deplorable, all the events I have mentioned are deplorable. They are much more than this. Would you call them horrible? Gentlemen, these events are above all horrors.

There was in Rome, and there is no longer, on the most eminent throne, the most just man, the most evangelical man on earth. What has the city of Rome done with that evangelical man, with that just man, what has that city done where heroes, Caesars and pontiffs have reigned? It has exchanged the throne of pontiffs for the throne of demagogues. Rebellious to God, it has fallen under the worship of the dagger. That is what has been done. The dagger, gentlemen, the demagogic dagger, the bloody dagger, that is the idol of Rome. That is the idol that has brought down Pius IX. That is the idol that troops of Caribbeans parade through the streets. Did I say Caribbeans? I got it wrong, because the Caribbeans are ferocious, but the Caribbeans are not ungrateful.

Gentlemen, I have proposed to speak frankly, and I will speak. I say that it is necessary that the King of Rome should return to Rome, or that there should be no stone left in Rome, even if Mr. Cortina should regret it.

The Catholic world cannot and will not consent to the virtual destruction of Christianity by a single city given over to a frenzy of madness. Civilized Europe cannot and will not consent to the collapse, gentlemen, of the dome of the edifice of European civilization. The world, gentlemen, cannot and will not consent to the accession to the throne of a new and strange dynasty, the dynasty of crime, in Rome, that foolish city. And let it not be said, gentlemen, as Mr. Cortina says, as the gentlemen who sit on those benches say in newspapers and speeches (addressing the benches on the left), that there are two questions there, one temporal and the other spiritual, and that the question has been between the temporal king and his people; that the pontiff still exists. Two words on this question, two words, gentlemen, will explain everything.

The spiritual power is undoubtedly the principal aspect of the Pope, the temporal is an accessory; but this accessory is necessary. The Catholic world has the right to demand that the infallible oracle of its dogmas be free and independent. The Catholic world cannot have a certain knowledge, as is necessary, that it is independent and free, except when it is sovereign, because the sovereign alone does not depend on anyone. Therefore, gentlemen, the question of sovereignty, which is a political question everywhere, is also in Rome a religious question. The people, who can be sovereign everywhere, cannot be sovereign in Rome. Constituent assemblies, which can exist everywhere, cannot exist in Rome. In Rome there can be no constituent power but the constituted power. Rome, gentlemen, the Papal States, do not belong to the State of Rome, they do not belong to the Pope. The Papal States belong to the Catholic world. The Catholic world has recognized them to the Pope so that he may be free and independent, and the Pope himself cannot divest himself of this sovereignty, of this independence.

Gentlemen, I am going to conclude, because Congress is quite tired and so am I. Gentlemen, I must announce that I cannot go on any longer because I have a wound in my mouth, and it has been a miracle that I can speak. But the main thing I had to say, I have already said.

Having dealt with the three external questions that Mr. Cortina addressed, I shall now return, in conclusion, to the internal one. Gentlemen, from the beginning of the world until now it has been a matter of debate whether the system of resistance or the system of concessions was more appropriate, in order to avoid revolutions and upheavals. But fortunately, gentlemen, this question, which has been a question from the first year of creation until ‘48, in the year of grace of ‘48 is no longer a question of any kind, because it has been resolved. I would, gentlemen, if the wound I have in my mouth would allow me, make a review of all the events from February until now, which prove these assertions; but I will content myself with recalling two. That of France, gentlemen. There, the monarchy, which did not yield, was defeated by the Republic, which hardly had any strength to move. And the Republic, which hardly had any strength to move, defeated socialism, because the former did resist.

In Rome, which is another example I would like to give, what happened? Was not your model present there? Tell me, if you were painters and you wanted to paint the model of a king, would you find any other model than his original, Pius IX? Gentlemen, Pius IX wanted to be, like his divine Master, magnificent and generous. He found outlaws in his country, and he stretched out his hand to them and returned them to their homeland. There were reformers, gentlemen, and he gave them reforms. There were liberals, gentlemen, and he made them free. Every word of his, gentlemen, was for their benefit. And now, gentlemen, tell me, aren’t his concessions equal to his humiliations, even exceeding them? And in view of this, gentlemen, is not the system of concessions a settled matter?

Gentlemen, if it were a matter of choice here, of choosing between liberty on the one hand and dictatorship on the other, there would be no dissent here; for who, being able to embrace liberty, would kneel before a dictatorship? But that is not the point. Freedom does not in fact exist in Europe. The constitutional governments which used to represent it years ago are almost everywhere, gentlemen, but a shell of a lifeless skeleton. Remember one thing, remember Imperial Rome. In Imperial Rome there are all the Republican institutions, there are the omnipotent dictators, there are the inviolable tribunes, there are the senatorial families, there are the eminent consuls. All this, gentlemen, exists; only one thing is lacking, and only one thing in excess: there is one man too many and a Republic is left out.

Well, these, gentlemen, are the constitutional governments in almost all of Europe; without thinking about it, without knowing it, Mr. Cortina showed us the other day; did you not tell us that you prefer, and rightly so, what History says to what theories say? I appeal to History. What are these governments, Mr. Cortina, with their legitimate majorities, always defeated by turbulent minorities, with their responsible ministers who answer for nothing, with their inviolable kings who are always violated? So, gentlemen, the question, as I said before, is not between liberty and dictatorship; if it were between liberty and dictatorship, I would vote for liberty, as all of us who sit here would. But the question is this, and I conclude: it is a question of choosing between the dictatorship of insurrection and the dictatorship of the Government; since in this case I choose the dictatorship of the Government, as being less burdensome and less disgraceful.