it continues to stagnate. But if, like Greece or Rome, it had realised
anything higher, through the energy, patriotism, and enlargement of
mind, which as national qualities are the fruits solely of freedom, it
relapses in a few generations into the Oriental state. And that
state does not mean stupid tranquillity, with security against
change for the worse; it often means being overrun, conquered, and
reduced to domestic slavery, either by a stronger despot, or by the
nearest barbarous people who retain along with their savage rudeness
the energies of freedom.

  Such are not merely the natural tendencies, but the inherent
necessities of despotic government; from which there is no outlet,
unless in so far as the despotism consents not to be despotism; in
so far as the supposed good despot abstains from exercising his power,
and, though holding it in reserve, allows the general business of
government to go on as if the people really governed themselves.
However little probable it may be, we may imagine a despot observing
many of the rules and restraints of constitutional government. He
might allow such freedom of the press and of discussion as would
enable a public opinion to form and express itself on national
affairs. He might suffer local interests to be managed, without the
interference of authority, by the people themselves. He might even
surround himself with a council or councils of government, freely
chosen by the whole or some portion of the nation; retaining in his
own hands the power of taxation, and the supreme legislative as well
as executive authority. Were he to act thus, and so far abdicate as
a despot, he would do away with a considerable part of the evils
characteristic of despotism. Political activity and capacity for
public affairs would no longer be prevented from growing up in the
body of the nation; and a public opinion would form itself not the
mere echo of the government. But such improvement would be the
beginning of new difficulties. This public opinion, independent of the
monarch's dictation, must be either with him or against him; if not
the one, it will be the other. All governments must displease many
persons, and these having now regular organs, and being able to
express their sentiments, opinions adverse to the measures of
government would often be expressed. What is the monarch to do when
these unfavourable opinions happen to be in the majority? Is he to
alter his course? Is he to defer to the nation? If so, he is no longer
a despot, but a constitutional king; an organ or first minister of the
people, distinguished only by being irremovable. If not, he must
either put down opposition by his despotic power, or there will
arise a permanent antagonism between the people and one man, which can
have but one possible ending. Not even a religious principle of
passive obedience and "right divine" would long ward off the natural
consequences of such a position. The monarch would have to succumb,
and conform to the conditions of constitutional royalty, or give place
to some one who would. The despotism, being thus chiefly nominal,
would possess few of the advantages supposed to belong to absolute
monarchy; while it would realise in a very imperfect degree those of a
free government; since however great an amount of liberty the citizens
might practically enjoy, they could never forget that they held it
on sufferance, and by a concession which under the existing
constitution of the state might at any moment be resumed; that they
were legally slaves, though of a prudent, or indulgent, master.

  It is not much to be wondered at if impatient or disappointed
reformers, groaning under the impediments opposed to the most salutary
public improvements by the ignorance, the indifference, the
intractableness, the perverse obstinacy of a people, and the corrupt
combinations of selfish private interests armed with the powerful
weapons afforded by free institutions, should at times sigh for a
strong hand to bear down all these obstacles, and compel a
recalcitrant people to be better governed. But (setting aside the
fact, that for one despot who now and then reforms an abuse, there are
ninety-nine who do nothing but create them) those who look in any such
direction for the realisation of their hopes leave out of the idea
of good government its principal element, the improvement of the
people themselves. One of the benefits of freedom is that under it the
ruler cannot pass by the people's minds, and amend their affairs for
them without amending them. If it were possible for the people to be
well governed in spite of themselves, their good government would last
no longer than the freedom of a people usually lasts who have been
liberated by foreign arms without their own co-operation. It is
true, a despot may educate the people; and to do so really, would be
the best apology for his despotism. But any education which aims at
making human beings other than machines, in the long run makes them
claim to have the control of their own actions. The leaders of
French philosophy in the eighteenth century had been educated by the
Jesuits. Even Jesuit education, it seems, was sufficiently real to
call forth the appetite for freedom. Whatever invigorates the
faculties, in however small a measure, creates an increased desire for
their more unimpeded exercise; and a popular education is a failure,
if it educates the people for any state but that which it will
certainly induce them to desire, and most probably to demand.

  I am far from condemning, in cases of extreme exigency, the
assumption of absolute power in the form of a temporary
dictatorship. Free nations have, in times of old, conferred such power
by their own choice, as a necessary medicine for diseases of the
body politic which could not be got rid of by less violent means.
But its acceptance, even for a time strictly limited, can only be
excused, if, like Solon or Pittacus, the dictator employs the whole
power he assumes in removing the obstacles which debar the nation from
the enjoyment of freedom. A good despotism is an altogether false
ideal, which practically (except as a means to some temporary purpose)
becomes the most senseless and dangerous of chimeras. Evil for evil, a
good despotism, in a country at all advanced in civilisation, is
more noxious than a bad one; for it is far more relaxing and
enervating to the thoughts, feelings, and energies of the people.