Enlightenment ideas and Europe's rulers, 1740–1790

No man can be judged a criminal until he be found guilty; nor can society take from him the public protection until it has been proved that he has violated the conditions on which it was granted. What right, then, but that of mere power can authorize the punishment of a citizen so long as there remains any doubt of his guilt? . . .

How happy were mankind if laws were now to be first formed, now that we see on the thrones of Europe benevolent monarchs, friends to the virtues of peace, to the arts and sciences, fathers of their people, though crowned, yet citizens; the increase of whose authority augments the happiness of their subjects by destroying that intermediate despotism which intercepts the prayers of the people to the throne. If these humane princes have suffered the old laws to subsist, it is doubtless because they are disturbed by the numberless obstacles which oppose the subversion of errors by the sanction of many ages; and therefore every wise citizen will wish for the increase of their authority.

All outlays that are not absolutely necessary should be abandoned, since I could never bring myself to think it right to skin two hundred good peasants to pay one do-nothing lord more than he ought to have. . . .

In order to keep for the advantage of the State the greatest number of men of ability capable of serving it, I should order, in spite of anything that the Pope and all the monks in the world might say, that none of my subjects should embrace any ecclesiastical profession before they had attained the age of twenty-five years. . . .

Accordingly any individual, in particular foreigners, who only bring in one copy [of a banned book], shall be left alone, since it is not the business of the sovereign to watch over individual consciences but only over the general good. . . . I freely profess that in trivial matters and questions of taste I believe that full liberty should be left to men and that we should confine our rigor to matters affecting the State, where the subject should submit blindly and see matters from the same point of view as his sovereign.

If the laws are good, they will be clear in their definitions . . . . It is perhaps superfluous to add that the penalty ought never to exceed the crime; that violence ought never to supersede law; and that it were better the sovereign should be too merciful than too severe. . . .

That taxes may be equally and not arbitrarily laid on, surveys and registers should be made by which, if the people are properly classed, the money will be proportionate to the income of the persons paying. . . .

The monarch is only the first servant of the State, who is obliged to act with probity and prudence, and to remain as totally disinterested as if he were each moment liable to render an account of his administration to his fellow-citizens. Thus he is culpable if he be prodigal of the money of the people, dispersing the produce of the taxes in luxury, pomp, or licentiousness.

[A merchant asks the king's permission to buy a country estate for 40,000 thalers.] Frederick's note: "Forty thousand thalers invested in commerce will bring in 8 percent, in landed property only 4. So this man does not understand his own business. A cobbler should continue a cobbler; a merchant should think of his trade, and not of buying estates."

[A count's creditors ask the king to suspend a legal proceeding in the courts.] Frederick's note: "The administration of justice in my dominions shall in no way be infringed upon, because the laws must govern all."

[A forestry official asks that his son not be forced into the army.] Frederick's note: "He will be better educated in a regiment than in a village."

[Meyer Benjamin, a Jewish resident of Magdeburg, asks for the same privileges as Christian tradesmen.] Frederick's note: "Let the Jew immediately take himself away from Magdeburg, or the commandant shall kick him out."

Her character extends throughout her whole administration; and although she is rigidly obeyed, yet she has introduced a lenity [mildness] in the mode of government to which, till her reign, this country was a stranger. . . .

In an absolute monarchy everything depends on the disposition and character of the sovereign . . . .

If we turn our reflections to the interior administration of government, I fear the result of them will not be more advantageous. A mistaken lenity, arising either from fear or indolence, has subverted the great purposes of law and justice. The great men oppress their inferiors wantonly; the inferiors pilfer and steal in security. From a conviction of this remissness, and from the special pretext of the cruelty of their lords, we have seen a rebellion break out in the heart of the empire, which, had it been led by men of judgment or courage, would have shaken it to its foundations.

As soon as the Emperor [Joseph II] governs this country alone a revolution will take place here that will render the present inhabitants a phenomenon to the next generation. He is a philosopher in the true sense of the word . . . . Hitherto, however, his mother's different way of thinking has prevented much of his theory from being carried into practice. . . .

In order to have any idea of the government of this place, it is necessary to attend to the three contending parties of the State. The first and strongest is that of the Empress [Maria Theresa]; it consists of the great personage herself, Cardinal Migazzi, the archbishop, some monks, principally Capuchins, and a few old ladies who make their court to the Empress by imitating her peculiarities. This party is always busy with commissions on improving morals, prohibition of books, driving away dangerous preachers and professors, increasing the papal power, and persecuting the new philosophy. A great part of the old nobility, whose prerogatives stand upon the same ground as those of the priesthood, adhere very strongly to this party.

Enlightening is, man's quitting the nonage occasioned by himself. Nonage or minority is the inability of making use of one's own understanding without the guidance of another. . . . Sapere aude! Have courage to make use of thy own understanding! is therefore the dictum of enlightening. . . .

If it is now enquired, do we live at present in an enlightened age? The answer is, No, but by all means in an age of enlightening. . . . In this respect the present age is the age of enlightening, or Frederick's century. . . .

But only he, who, enlightened himself, is not only not afraid of his shadow, but has at hand a well-disciplined numerous army as a security for the public tranquillity, can say, what a free state dares not risk: reason as much as you please, and on what you please, but obey!