Autobiography by John Stuart Mill (classic children's novels .txt) 📕

commencement from my reading, or rather study, of M. de Tocqueville's

_Democracy in America_, which fell into my hands immediately after its

first appearance. In that remarkable work, the excellences of democracy

were pointed out in a more conclusive, because a more specific manner

than I had ever known them to be, even by the most enthusiastic

democrats; while the specific dangers which beset democracy, considered

as the government of the numerical majority, were brought into equally

strong light, and subjected to a masterly analysis, not as reasons for

resisting what the author considered as an inevitable result of human

progress, but as indications of the weak points of popular government,

the defences by which it needs to be guarded, and the correctives which

must be added to it in order that while full play is given to its

beneficial tendencies, those which are of a different nature may be

neutralized or mitigated. I was now well prepared for speculations of

this character, and from this time onward my own thoughts moved more and

more in the same channel, though the consequent modifications in my

practical political creed were spread over many years, as would be shown

by comparing my first review of _Democracy in America_, written and

published in 1835, with the one in 1840 (reprinted in the _Dissertations_),

and this last, with the _Considerations on Representative Government_.

A collateral subject on which also I derived great benefit from the

study of Tocqueville, was the fundamental question of centralization.

The powerful philosophic analysis which he applied to American and to

French experience, led him to attach the utmost importance to the

performance of as much of the collective business of society, as can

safely be so performed, by the people themselves, without any

intervention of the executive government, either to supersede their

agency, or to dictate the manner of its exercise. He viewed this

practical political activity of the individual citizen, not only as one

of the most effectual means of training the social feelings and

practical intelligence of the people, so important in themselves and so

indispensable to good government, but also as the specific counteractive

to some of the characteristic infirmities of democracy, and a necessary

protection against its degenerating into the only despotism of which, in

the modern world, there is real danger--the absolute rule of the head

of the executive over a congregation of isolated individuals, all equals

but all slaves. There was, indeed, no immediate peril from this source

on the British side of the channel, where nine-tenths of the internal

business which elsewhere devolves on the government, was transacted by

agencies independent of it; where centralization was, and is, the

subject not only of rational disapprobation, but of unreasoning

prejudice; where jealousy of Government interference was a blind feeling

preventing or resisting even the most beneficial exertion of legislative

authority to correct the abuses of what pretends to be local

self-government, but is, too often, selfish mismanagement of local

interests, by a jobbing and _borné_ local oligarchy. But the more

certain the public were to go wrong on the side opposed to

centralization, the greater danger was there lest philosophic reformers

should fall into the contrary error, and overlook the mischiefs of which

they had been spared the painful experience. I was myself, at this very

time, actively engaged in defending important measures, such as the

great Poor Law Reform of 1834, against an irrational clamour grounded on

the anti-centralization prejudice: and had it not been for the lessons

of Tocqueville, I do not know that I might not, like many reformers

before me, have been hurried into the excess opposite to that, which,

being the one prevalent in my own country, it was generally my business

to combat. As it is, I have steered carefully between the two errors,

and whether I have or have not drawn the line between them exactly in

the right place, I have at least insisted with equal emphasis upon the

evils on both sides, and have made the means of reconciling the

advantages of both, a subject of serious study.

In the meanwhile had taken place the election of the first Reformed

Parliament, which included several of the most notable of my Radical

friends and acquaintances--Grote, Roebuck, Buller, Sir William

Molesworth, John and Edward Romilly, and several more; besides

Warburton, Strutt, and others, who were in parliament already. Those who

thought themselves, and were called by their friends, the philosophic

Radicals, had now, it seemed, a fair opportunity, in a more advantageous

position than they had ever before occupied, for showing what was in

them; and I, as well as my father, founded great hopes on them. These

hopes were destined to be disappointed. The men were honest, and

faithful to their opinions, as far as votes were concerned; often in

spite of much discouragement. When measures were proposed, flagrantly at

variance with their principles, such as the Irish Coercion Bill, or the

Canada Coercion in 1837, they came forward manfully, and braved any

amount of hostility and prejudice rather than desert the right. But on

the whole they did very little to promote any opinions; they had little

enterprise, little activity: they left the lead of the Radical portion

of the House to the old hands, to Hume and O'Connell. A partial

exception must be made in favour of one or two of the younger men; and

in the case of Roebuck, it is his title to permanent remembrance, that

in the very first year during which he sat in Parliament, he originated

(or re-originated after the unsuccessful attempt of Mr. Brougham) the

parliamentary movement for National Education; and that he was the first

to commence, and for years carried on almost alone, the contest for the

self-government of the Colonies. Nothing, on the whole equal to these

two things, was done by any other individual, even of those from whom

most was expected. And now, on a calm retrospect, I can perceive that

the men were less in fault than we supposed, and that we had expected

too much from them. They were in unfavourable circumstances. Their lot

was cast in the ten years of inevitable reaction, when, the Reform

excitement being over, and the few legislative improvements which the

public really called for having been rapidly effected, power gravitated

back in its natural direction, to those who were for keeping things as

they were; when the public mind desired rest, and was less disposed than

at any other period since the Peace, to let itself be moved by attempts

to work up the Reform feeling into fresh activity in favour of new

things. It would have required a great political leader, which no one is

to be blamed for not being, to have effected really great things by

parliamentary discussion when the nation was in this mood. My father and

I had hoped that some competent leader might arise; some man of

philosophic attainments and popular talents, who could have put heart

into the many younger or less distinguished men that would have been

ready to join him--could have made them available, to the extent of

their talents, in bringing advanced ideas before the public--could

have used the House of Commons as a rostra or a teacher's chair for

instructing and impelling the public mind; and would either have forced

the Whigs to receive their measures from him, or have taken the lead of

the Reform party out of their hands. Such a leader there would have

been, if my father had been in Parliament. For want of such a man, the

instructed Radicals sank into a mere _Côté Gauche_ of the Whig party.

With a keen, and as I now think, an exaggerated sense of the

possibilities which were open to the Radicals if they made even ordinary

exertion for their opinions, I laboured from this time till 1839, both

by personal influence with some of them, and by writings, to put ideas

into their heads, and purpose into their hearts. I did some good with

Charles Buller, and some with Sir William Molesworth; both of whom did

valuable service, but were unhappily cut off almost in the beginning of

their usefulness. On the whole, however, my attempt was vain. To have

had a chance of succeeding in it, required a different position from

mine. It was a task only for one who, being himself in Parliament, could

have mixed with the Radical members in daily consultation, could himself

have taken the initiative, and instead of urging others to lead, could

have summoned them to follow.

What I could do by writing, I did. During the year 1833 I continued

working in the _Examiner_ with Fonblanque who at that time was zealous

in keeping up the fight for Radicalism against the Whig ministry. During

the session of 1834 I wrote comments on passing events, of the nature of

newspaper articles (under the title "Notes on the Newspapers"), in the

_Monthly Repository_, a magazine conducted by Mr. Fox, well known as a

preacher and political orator, and subsequently as member of parliament

for Oldham; with whom I had lately become acquainted, and for whose sake

chiefly I wrote in his magazine. I contributed several other articles

to this periodical, the most considerable of which (on the theory of

Poetry), is reprinted in the "Dissertations." Altogether, the writings

(independently of those in newspapers) which I published from 1832 to

1834, amount to a large volume. This, however, includes abstracts of

several of Plato's Dialogues, with introductory remarks, which, though

not published until 1834, had been written several years earlier; and

which I afterwards, on various occasions, found to have been read, and

their authorship known, by more people than were aware of anything else

which I had written, up to that time. To complete the tale of my

writings at this period, I may add that in 1833, at the request of

Bulwer, who was just then completing his _England and the English_ (a

work, at that time, greatly in advance of the public mind), I wrote for

him a critical account of Bentham's philosophy, a small part of which

he incorporated in his text, and printed the rest (with an honourable

acknowledgment), as an appendix. In this, along with the favourable,

a part also of the unfavourable side of my estimation of Bentham's

doctrines, considered as a complete philosophy, was for the first time

put into print.

But an opportunity soon offered, by which, as it seemed, I might have it

in my power to give more effectual aid, and at the same time, stimulus,

to the "philosophic Radical" party, than I had done hitherto. One of the

projects occasionally talked of between my father and me, and some of

the parliamentary and other Radicals who frequented his house, was the

foundation of a periodical organ of philosophic radicalism, to take the

place which the _Westminster Review_ had been intended to fill: and the

scheme had gone so far as to bring under discussion the pecuniary

contributions which could be looked for, and the choice of an editor.

Nothing, however, came of it for some time: but in the summer of 1834

Sir William Molesworth, himself a laborious student, and a precise and

metaphysical thinker, capable of aiding the cause by his pen as well as

by his purse, spontaneously proposed to establish a Review, provided I

would consent to be the real, if I could not be the ostensible, editor.

Such a proposal was not to be refused; and the Review was founded, at

first under the title of the _London Review_, and afterwards under that

of the _London and Westminster_, Molesworth having bought the

_Westminster_ from its proprietor, General Thompson, and merged the two

into one. In the years between 1834 and 1840 the conduct of this Review

occupied the greater part of my spare time. In the beginning, it did

not, as a whole, by any means represent my opinions. I was under the

necessity of conceding much to my inevitable associates. The _Review_

was established to be the representative of the "philosophic Radicals,"

with most of whom I was now at issue on many essential points, and among

whom I could not even claim to be the most important individual. My

father's co-operation as a writer we all deemed indispensable, and he

wrote largely in it until prevented by his last illness. The subjects of

his articles, and the strength and decision with which his opinions were

expressed in them, made the _Review_ at first derive its tone and

colouring from him much more than from any of the other writers. I could

not exercise editorial control over his articles, and I was sometimes

obliged to sacrifice to him portions of my own. The old _Westminster

Review_ doctrines, but little modified, thus formed the staple of the

_Review_; but I hoped by the side of these, to introduce other ideas and

another tone, and to obtain for my own shade of opinion a fair

representation, along with those of