{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3286/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3286","id":"gutenberg_3286","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3286","summary":null,"tags":["Burke, Edmund, 1729-1797","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Politics","Essays","Political science","Speeches, addresses, etc."],"text":"Produced by Sue Asscher, from the book made available by Mike Alder\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nSELECTIONS FROM THE SPEECHES AND WRITINGS OF EDMUND BURKE.\n\nBy Edmund Burke\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY ESSAY.\n\n...\n\n\"Id dico, eum qui sit orator, virum bonum esse oportere. In omnibus\nquae dicit tanta auctoritas inest, ut dissentire pudeat; nec advocati\nstudium, sed testis aut judicis afferat fidem.\"--Quintilianus.\n\n\"Democracy is the most monstrous of all governments, because it is\nimpossible at once to act and control; and, consequently, the Sovereign\nPower is then left without any restraint whatever. That form of\ngovernment is the best which places the efficient direction in the hands\nof the aristocracy, subjecting them in its exercise to the control of\nthe people at large.\"--Sir James Mackintosh.\n\n...\n\nThe intellectual homage of more than half a century has assigned to\nEdmund Burke a lofty pre-eminence in the aristocracy of mind, and we may\njustly assume succeeding ages will confirm the judgment which the Past\nhas thus pronounced. His biographical history is so popularly known,\nthat it is almost superfluous to record it in this brief introduction.\nIt may, however, be summed up in a few sentences. He was born at Dublin\nin 1730. His father was an attorney in extensive practice, and his\nmother's maiden name was Nogle, whose family was respectable, and\nresided near Castletown, Roche, where Burke himself received five years\nof boyish education under the guidance of a rustic schoolmaster. He was\nentered at Trinity College, Dublin, in 1746, but only remained there\nuntil 1749. In 1753 he became a member of the Middle Temple, and\nmaintained himself chiefly by literary toil. Bristol did itself the\nhonour to elect him for her representative in 1774, and after years of\nsplendid usefulness and mental triumph, as an orator, statesman,\nand patriot, he retired to his favourite retreat, Beaconsfield, in\nBuckinghamshire, where he died on July 9th, 1797. He was buried here;\nand the pilgrim who visits the grave of this illustrious man, when\nhe gazes on the simple tomb which marks the earthly resting place of\nhimself, brother, son, and widow, may feelingly recall his own pathetic\nwish uttered some forty years before, in London:--\"I would rather sleep\nin the southern corner of a little country churchyard, than in the tomb\nof the Capulets. I should like, however, that my dust should mingle\nwith kindred dust. The good old expression, 'family burying-ground,' has\nsomething pleasing in it, at least to me.\" Alluding to his approaching\ndissolution, he thus speaks, in a letter addressed to a relative of his\nearliest schoolmaster:--\"I have been at Bath these four months for no\npurpose, and am therefore to be removed to my own house at Beaconsfield\nto-morrow, to be nearer a habitation more permanent, humbly and\nfearfully hoping that my better part may find a better mansion.\" It is\na source of deep thankfulness for those who reverence the genius and\neloquence of this great man, to state, that Burke's religion was that\nof the Cross, and to find him speaking of the \"Intercession\" of our\nRedeeming Lord, as \"what he had long sought with unfeigned anxiety, and\nto which he looked with trembling hope.\" The commencing paragraph in\nhis Will also authenticates the genuine character of his personal\nChristianity. \"According to the ancient, good, and laudable custom, of\nwhich my heart and understanding recognise the propriety, I BEQUEATH MY\nSOUL TO GOD, HOPING FOR HIS MERCY ONLY THROUGH THE MERITS OF OUR LORD\nAND SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST. My body I desire to be buried in the church of\nBeaconsfield, near to the bodies of my dearest brother, and my dearest\nson, in all humility praying, that as we have lived in perfect unity\ntogether, we may together have part in the resurrection of the just.\"\n(In the \"Epistolary Correspondence of the Right Hon. Edmund Burke and\nDr. French Laurence\", Rivingtons, London, 1827), are several touching\nallusions to that master-grief which threw a mournful shadow over the\nclosing period of Burke's life. In one letter the anxious father says,\n\"The fever continues much as it was. He sleeps in a very uneasy way from\ntime to time?-but his strength decays visibly, and his voice is, in a\nmanner, gone. But God is all-sufficient--and surely His goodness and his\nmother's prayers may do much\" (page 30). Again, in another communication\naddressed to his revered correspondent, we find a beautiful allusion\nto his departed son, which involves his belief in that most soothing\ndoctrine of the Church,--a recognition of souls in the kingdom of the\nBeatified. \"Here I am in the last retreat of hunted infirmity; I am\nindeed 'aux abois.' But, as through the whole of a various and long\nlife I have been more indebted than thankful to Providence, so I am now\nsingularly so, in being dismissed, as hitherto I appear to be, so gently\nfrom life, AND SENT TO FOLLOW THOSE WHO IN COURSE OUGHT TO HAVE FOLLOWED\nME, WHOM, I TRUST, I SHALL YET, IN SOME INCONCEIVABLE MANNER, SEE AND\nKNOW; AND BY WHOM I SHALL BE SEEN AND KNOWN\" (pages 53, 54).\n\nIn reference to the intellectual grandeur, the eloquent genius, and\nprophetic wisdom of Burke, which have caused his writings to become\noracles for future statesmen to consult, it is quite unnecessary for\ncontemporary criticism to speak. By the concurring judgment, both of\npolitical friends and foes, as well as by the highest arbiters of taste\nthroughout the civilized world, Burke has been pronounced, not only\n\"primus inter pares,\" but \"facile omnium princeps.\" At the termination\nof these introductory remarks, the reader will be presented with\ncritical portraitures of Burke from the writings and speeches of men,\nwho, while opposed to him in their principles of legislative policy,\nwith all the chivalry and candour of genius paid a noble homage to the\nvastness and variety of his unrivalled powers. Meanwhile, it may not\nbe presumptuous for a writer, on an occasion like the present, to\ncontemplate this great man under certain aspects, which, perhaps, are\nnot sufficiently regarded in their DISTINCTIVE bearings on the worth and\nwisdom of his character and writings. We say \"distinctive,\" because the\neloquence of Burke, beyond that of all other orators and statesmen\nwhich Great Britain has produced, is featured with expressions, and\ncharacterised by qualities, as peculiar as they are immortal. So far\nas invention, imagination, moral fervour, and metaphorical richness of\nillustration, combined with that intense \"pathos and ethos,\" which the\nRoman critic describes (\"Huc igitur incumbat orator: hoc opus ejus, hic\nlabor est; sine quo caetera nuda, jejuna, infirma, ingrata sunt: adeo\nvelut spiritus operis hujus atque animus est IN AFFECTIBUS. Horum autem,\nsicut antiquitus traditum accepimus, duae sunt species: alteram Graeci\npathos vocant, quem nos vertentes recte ac proprie AFFECTUM dicimus;\nalteram ethos, cujus nomine (ut ego quidem sentio) caret sermo Romanus,\nmores appellantur.\"--Quintilian, \"Instit. Orat.\" lib. vi. cap. 2.) as\nessential to the true orator, are concerned, the author of \"Reflections\non the French Revolution,\" and \"Letters on a Regicide Peace,\" is\njustly admired and appreciated. Moreover, if what we understand by the\n\"sublime\" in eloquence has ever been embodied, the speeches and writings\nof Burke appear to have been drawn from those five sources (\"pegai\")\nto which Longinus alludes. In the 8th chapter of his fragment \"On the\nSublime,\" he observes, that if we assume an ability for speaking\nwell, as a common basis, there are five copious fountains from whence\nsublimity in eloquence may be said to flow; viz.\n\n1. Boldness and grandeur of thought.\n\n2. The pathetic, or the power of exciting the passions into an\nenthusiastic reach and noble degree.\n\n3. A skilful application of figures, both from sentiment and language.\n\n4. A graceful, finished, and ornate style, embellished by tropes and\nmetaphors.\n\n5. Lastly, as that which completes all the rest,--the structure of\nperiods, in dignity and grandeur.\n\nThese five sources of the sublime, the same philosophical critic\ndistinguishes into two classes; the first two he asserts to be gifts\nof nature, and the remaining three are considered to depend, in a great\nmeasure, upon literature and art. Again, if we may linger for a moment\nin the attractive region of classical authorship, how justly applicable\nare the words of Cicero in his \"De Oratore,\" to the vastness and variety\nof Burke's attainments! \"Ac mea quidem sententia, nemo poterit esse omni\nlaude cumulatus orator, nisi erit OMNIUM RERUM MAGNARUM ATQUE ARTIUM\nSCIENTIAM CONSECUTUS.\"--Cic. \"De Orat.\" lib. i. cap. 6. Equally\ndescriptive of Burke's power in raising the dormant sensibilities of our\nmoral nature by his intuitive perception of what that nature really\nand fundamentally is, are the following expressions of the same great\nauthority:--\"Quis enim nescit, maximam vim existere oratoris, in hominum\nmentibus vel ad iram aut ad odium, aut dolorem incitandis, vel, ab\nhisce, iisdem permonitionibus, ad lenitatem misericordiamque revocandis?\nQuare, NISI QUI NATURAS HOMINUM, VIMQUE OMNEM HUMANITATIS, CAUSASQUE\nEAS QUIBUS MENTES AUT EXCITANTUR, AUT REFLECTUNTUR, PENITUS PERSPEXERIT,\nDICENDO, QUOD VOLET, PERFICERE NON POTERIT.\"--Cic. \"De Orat.\" lib. i.\ncap. 12.\n\nBut to return. If a critical analysis of Burke, as an exhibition of\ngenius, be attempted, his characteristic endowments may, probably, be\nnot incorrectly represented by the following succinct statement.\n\n1. Endless variety in connection with exhaustless vigour of mind.\n\n2. A lofty power of generalisation, both in speculative views and in his\nargumentative process.\n\n3. Vivid intensity of conception, which caused abstractions to stand\nout with almost living force and visible feature, in his impassioned\nmoments.\n\n4. An imagination of oriental luxuriance, whose incessant play in\ntropes, metaphors, and analogies, frequently causes his speeches to\ngleam on the intellectual eye, as Aeschylus says the ocean does, when\nthe Sun irradiates its bosom with the \"anerithmon gelasma\" of countless\nbeams. 5. His positive acquirements in all the varied realms of art,\nscience, and literature, endowed him with such vast funds of knowledge\n(In the wealth of his multitudinous acquirements, Burke seems to realise\nCicero's ideal of what a perfect orator should know:--\"Equidem omnia,\nquae pertinent ad usum civium, morem hominum, quae versantur in\nconsuetudine vitae, in ratione reipublicae, in hac societate civili, in\nsensu hominum communi, in natura, in moribus, co hendenda esse oratori\nputo.\"--Cicero \"De Orat.\" lib. ii. cap. 16.), that Johnson declared of\nBurke--\"Enter upon what subject you will, and Burke is ready to meet\nyou.\"\n\n6. In addition to these high gifts, may be added, an ability to wield\nthe weapons of sarcasm and irony, with a keenness of application and\neffect rarely equalled. But, in all candour, it may be added, that just\nas a profusion of figures and metaphors sometimes tempted this great\norator into incongruous images and coarse analogies, so his passion for\nirony was occasionally too intense. Hence, there are occasions where\nhis pungency is embittered into acrimony, strength degenerates into\nvulgarism, and the vehemence of satire is infuriated with the fierceness\nof invective.\n\n7. With regard to language and style, it may be truly said, they were\nthe absolute vassals of his Genius, and did homage to its command in\nevery possible mode by which it chose to employ them. Thus, in his\n\"Letters on a Regicide Peace,\" and above all, in \"French Revolutions,\"\nthe reader will find almost every conceivable manner of style and\nmode of expression the English language can develop; and what is\nmore,--together with classical richness, there are also the pointed\nseriousness and persuasive simplicity of our own vernacular Saxon, which\nincrease the attractions of Burke's style to a wonderful extent. But,\nbeyond controversy, among these great endowments, the imaginative\nfaculty is that which appears to be the most transcendent in the mental\nconstitution of Burke. And so truly is this the case, that both among\nhis contemporaries, as well as among his successors, this predominance\nof imagination has caused his just claims as a philosophic thinker and\nstatesman to be partially overlooked. The union of ideal theory and\npractical realisation, of imaginative creation with logical induction,\nis indeed so rare, we cannot be surprised at the injustice which the\ngenius of Burke has had to endure in this respect. And yet, in the\nnature of our faculties themselves, there exists no necessity why a\nvivid power to conceive ideas, should NOT be combined with a dialectic\nskill in expressing them. Degerando, an admirable French writer, in one\nof his Treatises, has some profound observations on this subject; and\ndoes not hesitate to define poetry itself as a species of \"logique\ncachee.\"\n\nBut when we assert that these excellencies, which have thus been\nsuccinctly exhibited, characterise the mental constitution of Burke,\nwe do not mean that others have not, in their degree, possessed similar\nendowments. Such an inference would be an absurd extravagance. But what\nwe mean to affirm is--the qualifications enumerated have never been\ncombined into co-operative harmony, and developed in proportionable\neffect, as they appear in the speeches and writings of this wonderful\nman. But after all, we have not reached what may be considered a\npeerless excellence, the peculiar gift,--the one great and glorious\ndistinction, which separates Burke's oratory from that of all others,\nand which has caused his speeches to be blended with political History,\nand to incorporate themselves with the moral destiny of Europe,--namely,\nHIS INTUITIVE PERCEPTION OF UNIVERSAL PRINCIPLES. The truth of this\nstatement may be verified, by comparing the eloquence of Burke with\nspecimens of departed orators; or by a reference to existing standards\nin the parliamentary debates. Compared, then, either with the speeches\nof Chatham, Holland, Pitt, Fox, etc. etc., we perceive at once the grand\ndistinction to which we refer. These illustrious men were effective\ndebaters, and, in various senses, orators of surpassing excellency.\nBut how is it, that with all their allowed grandeur of intellect and\npolitical eminence, they have ceased to operate upon the hearts and\nminds of the present Age, either as teachers of political Truth, or\noracles of legislative Wisdom? Simply, BECAUSE they were too popular in\ntemporary effect, ever to become influential by permanent inspiration.\nIn their highest moods, and amid their noblest hours of triumph, they\nwere \"of the earth earthy.\" Party; personality; crushing rejoinders,\nor satirical attacks; a felicitous exposure of inconsistency, or\na triumphant self-vindication; brilliant repartees, and logical\ngladiatorship,--such are among the prominent characteristics which\ncaused parliamentary debates in Burke's day to be so animating and\ninteresting to those who heard, or perused them, amid the excitements of\nthe hour. It is not to be denied that commanding eloquence, vast genius,\npolitical ardour, intellectual enthusiasm, together with indignant\ndenunciation and argumentative subtlety, were thus summoned into\nexercise by the perils of the Nation, and the contentions of Party.\nNevertheless, the local, the temporal, the conventional, and the\nindividual, in all which relates to the science of politics or the\ntactics of partisanship,--are sufficient to excite and employ the\nenergies and qualities which made the general parliamentary debates of\nBurke's period so captivating. But when we revert to his own speeches\nand writings, we at once perceive WHY, as long as the mind can\ncomprehend what is true, the heart appreciate what is pure, or the\nconscience authenticate the sanction of heaven and the distinctions\nbetween right and wrong,--Edmund Burke will continue to be admired,\nrevered, and consulted, not only as the greatest of English orators,\nbut as the profoundest teacher of political Science. It was not that he\ndespised the arrangement of facts, or overlooked the minutiae of\ndetail; on the contrary, as may be proved by his speeches on \"economical\nreform,\" and Warren Hastings; in these respects his research was\nboundless, and his industry inexhaustible. Moreover, he was quite alive\nto the claims of a crisis, and with the coolness and calm of a practical\nstatesman, knew how to confront a sudden emergency, and to contend\nwith a gigantic difficulty. Yet all these qualifications recede before\nBurke's amazing power of expanding particulars into universals, and of\nassociating the accidents of a transient discussion with the essential\nproperties of some permanent Law in policy, or abstract Truth in morals.\nHis genius looked through the local to the universal; in the temporal\nperceived the eternal; and while facing the features of the Individual,\nwas enabled to contemplate the attributes of a Race. (Cicero, in many\nrespects a counterpart of Burke, both in statesmanship and oratory,\nappears to recognise what is here expressed when he says:--\"Plerique\nduo genera ad dicendum dederunt; UNUM DE CERTA DEFINITAQUE CAUSA, quales\nsunt quae in litibus, quae in deliberationibus versantur;--alterum, quod\nappellant omnes fere scriptores, explicat nemo, INFINITAM GENERIS SINE\nTEMPORE, ET SINE PERSONA quaestionem.\"--\"De Orat.\" lib. ii. cap. 15.)\nHence his speeches are virtual prophecies; and his writings a storehouse\nof pregnant axioms and predictive enunciations, as limitless in\ntheir range as they are undying in duration. In one word, no speeches\ndelivered in the English Parliament, are so likely to be eternalized\nas Burke's, because he has combined with his treatment of some especial\ncase or contingency before him, the assertion of immutable Principles,\nwhich can be detached from what is local and national, and thus made\nto stand forth alone in all the naked grandeur of their truth and\ntheir tendency. Let us be permitted to investigate this topic a little\nfurther. If, then, what Quintilian asserted of the Roman orator may\nbe applied to our own British Cicero,--\"Ille se profecisse sciat, cui\nCicero valde placebit;\" and if, moreover, this pre-eminence be chiefly\ndiscovered in Burke's instinctive grasp of that moral essence which\nis incorporated with all questions of political Science, and social\nEthics--from WHENCE came this diviner energy of his Genius? No believer\nin Christian revelation will hesitate to appropriate, even to this\nsubject, the apostolic axiom, \"EVERY good gift, and EVERY perfect gift\nis from above.\" But while we subscribe with reverential sincerity to\nthis announcement, it is equally true, that the Infinite Inspirer of\nall good adjusts His secret energies by certain laws, and condescends\nto work by analogous means. Bearing this in mind, we venture to think\nBurke's gift of almost prescient insight into the recesses of our common\nnature, and his consummate faculty of instructing the Future through the\nmedium of the Present,--were partly derived from the elevation of his\nsentiments, and the purity of his private life. (The action and reaction\nmaintained between our moral and intellectual elements is but remotely\ndiscussed by Quintilian in his \"Institutes.\" But still, in more than\none passage, he most impressively declares, that mental proficiency is\ngreatly retarded by perversity of heart and will. For instance, on one\noccasion we find him speaking thus:--\"Nihil enim est tam occupatum, tam\nmultiforme, tot ac tam variis affectibus concisum, atque laceratum, quam\nmala ac improba mens. Quis inter haec, literis, aut ulli bonae arti,\nlocus? Non hercle magis quam frugibus, in terra sentibus ac rubis\noccupata.\"--\"Nothing is so flurried and agitated, so self-contradictory,\nor so violently rent and shattered by conflicting passions, as a bad\nheart. In the distractions which it produces, what room is there for\nthe cultivation of letters, or the pursuits of any honourable art?\nAssuredly, no more than there is for the growth of corn in a field\noverrun with thorns and brambles.\") It would be unwise to draw invidious\ncomparisons, but no student of the period in which Burke was in\nParliament, can deny that, compared with SOME of his illustrious\ncontemporaries, he was indeed a model of what reason and conscience\nalike approve in all the relative duties and personal conduct of a man,\nwhen beheld in his domestic career. It is, indeed, a source of deep\nthankfulness, the admirer of Burke's genius in public, has no reason to\nblush for his character in private; and that when we have listened to\nhis matchless oratory upon the arena of the House of Commons, we have\nnot to mourn over dissipation, impurity, and depravity amid the\ncircles of private history. Our theory, then, is, that beyond what\nhis distinctive genius inspired, Burke's wondrous power of enunciating\neverlasting principles and of associating the loftiest abstractions\nof wisdom with the commonest themes of the hour,--was sustained and\nstrengthened by the purity of his heart, and the subjection of passion\nto the law of conscience. And if the worshippers of mere intellect,\napart from, or as opposed to, moral elevation, are inclined to ridicule\nthis view of Burke's genius, we beg to remind them, that \"One greater\nthan the Temple\" of mortal Wisdom, and all the idols enshrined therein,\nhas asserted a positive connection to exist between mental insight and\nmoral purity. We allude to the Redeemer's words, when He declares,--\"If\nany man WILLS to do His will, he shall KNOW of the doctrine.\" HOW the\npassions act upon our perceptions, and by what process the motions of\nthe Will elevate or depress the forces of the Intellect, is beyond\nour metaphysics to analyse. But that there exists a real, active, and\ninfluential connection between our moral and mental life, is undeniable:\nand since Burke's power of seizing the essential Idea, or fundamental\nPrinciple of every complex detail which came before him, was\npre-eminently his gift,--the intellectual insight such gift developed,\nwas not only an expression of senatorial wisdom, but also a witness for\nthe elevation of his moral character. We must now allude to the public\nconduct of Burke, as a Statesman and Politician, and only regret the\nlimited range of a popular essay confines us to one view, namely, his\nalleged inconsistency. There WAS a period when charges of apostasy were\nbrought against him with reckless audacity: but Time, the instructor of\nignorance, and the subduer of prejudice, is now beginning to place the\nconduct of Burke in its true light. The facts of the case are briefly\nthese. Up to the period of 1791, Fox and Burke fought in the same rank\nof opposition, and stood together upon a basis of complete identity in\nprinciple and sentiment. But even before the celebrated disruption of\n1791, the progress of Republicanism in America, and the approaching\nseparation of the colonies from their parent state, Burke's views of\npolitical liberty had received extensive modifications; and the ardour\nof his confidence in the so-called friends of freedom had been greatly\ncooled. But in 1791, the disruption between Burke and Fox became open,\nabsolute, and final, when the latter statesman uttered, in the hearing\nof his friend, this fearful eulogium on the French Revolution:--\"The new\nconstitution of France is the most stupendous and glorious edifice of\nliberty which had been erected on the foundation of human integrity\nin any age or country!\" (That ancient Sage unto whose political wisdom\nfrequent reference has been made in this essay, thus speaks on the\nreverence due unto an existing government, even when contemplated from\nits weakest side:--\"Formidable as these arguments seem, they may be\nopposed by others of not less weight; arguments which prove that even\nthe rust of government is to be respected, and that its fabric is never\nto be touched but with a fearful and trembling hand. When the evil of\npersevering in hereditary institutions is small, it ought always to\nbe endured, because the evil of departing from them is certainly very\ngreat. Slight imperfections, therefore, whether in the laws themselves,\nor in those who administer and execute the laws, ought always to be\noverlooked, because they cannot be corrected without occasioning a much\ngreater mischief, and tending to weaken that reverence which the safety\nof all governments requires that the citizens at large should entertain,\ncultivate, and cherish for the hereditary institutions of their country.\nThe comparison drawn from the improvement of arts does not apply to the\namendment of laws. To change or improve an art, and to alter or amend a\nlaw, are things as dissimilar in their operation as different in their\ntendency; for laws operate as practical principles of moral action; and,\nlike all the rules of morality, derive their force and efficacy, as even\nthe name imports, from the customary repetition of habitual acts, and\nthe slow operation of time. Every alteration of the laws, therefore,\ntends to subvert that authority on which the persuasive agency of all\nlaws is founded, and to abridge, weaken, and destroy the power of the\nlaw itself.\"--Aristotle's \"Politics.\") The reply of Burke to this burst\nof Jacobinism, with all its consequences in the political history of\nEurope, is far too well known to be quoted here. But, since it was at\nthis point in the career of Burke the charge of apostasy was commenced,\nand which has never quite died away, even in existing times, we may be\npermitted, first, to cite a noble passage from Burke's self-vindication;\nand secondly, to adduce a still more impressive evidence of his\npolitical rectitude and wisdom, derived from the admission of those who\nwere once his uncompromising opponents. In relation to the attacks of\nFox upon his supposed inconsistency, Mr. Burke thus replies:--\n\n\"I pass to the next head of charge,--Mr. Burke's inconsistency. It is\ncertainly a great aggravation of his fault in embracing false opinions,\nthat in doing so he is not supposed to fill up a void, but that he is\nguilty of a dereliction of opinions that are true and laudable. This is\nthe great gist of the charge against him. It is not so much that he is\nwrong in his book (that however is alleged also), as that he has therein\nbelied his whole life. I believe, if he could venture to value himself\nupon anything, it is on the virtue of consistency that he would value\nhimself the most. Strip him of this, and you leave him naked indeed.\n\n\"In the case of any man who had written something, and spoken a great\ndeal, upon very multifarious matter, during upwards of twenty-five\nyears' public service, and in as great a variety of important events as\nperhaps have ever happened in the same number of years, it would appear\na little hard, in order to charge such a man with inconsistency, to see\ncollected by his friend, a sort of digest of his sayings, even to such\nas were merely sportive and jocular. This digest, however, has been\nmade, with equal pains and partiality, and without bringing out those\npassages of his writings which might tend to show with what restrictions\nany expressions, quoted from him, ought to have been understood. From a\ngreat statesman he did not quite expect this mode of inquisition. If\nit only appeared in the works of common pamphleteers, Mr. Burke might\nsafely trust to his reputation. When thus urged, he ought, perhaps, to\ndo a little more. It shall be as little as possible, for I hope not much\nis wanting. To be totally silent on his charges would not be respectful\nto Mr. Fox. Accusations sometimes derive a weight from the persons who\nmake them, to which they are not entitled for their matter. \"A man who,\namong various objects of his equal regard, is secure of some, and full\nof anxiety for the fate of others, is apt to go to much greater lengths\nin his preference of the objects of his immediate solicitude than Mr.\nBurke has ever done. A man so circumstanced often seems to undervalue,\nto vilify, almost to reprobate and disown, those that are out of danger.\nThis is the voice of nature and truth, and not of inconsistency and\nfalse pretence. The danger of anything very dear to us removes, for the\nmoment, every other affection from the mind. When Priam had his whole\nthoughts employed on the body of his Hector, he repels with indignation,\nand drives from him with a thousand reproaches, his surviving sons, who\nwith an officious piety crowded about him to offer their assistance. A\ngood critic (there is no better than Mr. Fox) would say, that this is a\nmaster-stroke, and marks a deep understanding of nature in the father of\npoetry. He would despise a Zoilus, who would conclude from this passage\nthat Homer meant to represent this man of affliction as hating, or being\nindifferent and cold in his affections to the poor relics of his house,\nor that he preferred a dead carcass to his living children.\n\n\"Mr. Burke does not stand in need of an allowance of this kind,\nwhich, if he did, by candid critics ought to be granted to him. If the\nprinciples of a mixed constitution be admitted, he wants no more to\njustify to consistency everything he has said and done during the course\nof a political life just touching to its close. I believe that gentleman\nhas kept himself more clear of running into the fashion of wild,\nvisionary theories, or of seeking popularity through every means, than\nany man perhaps ever did in the same situation.\n\n\"He was the first man who, on the hustings, at a popular election,\nrejected the authority of instructions from constituents; or who, in any\nplace, has argued so fully against it. Perhaps the discredit into which\nthat doctrine of compulsive instructions under our constitution is since\nfallen, may be due, in a great degree, to his opposing himself to it in\nthat manner, and on that occasion.\n\n\"The reformers in representation, and the Bills for shortening the\nduration of Parliaments, he uniformly and steadily opposed for many\nyears together, in contradiction to many of his best friends. These\nfriends, however, in his better days, when they had more to hope from\nhis service and more to fear from his loss than now they have, never\nchose to find any inconsistency between his acts and expressions in\nfavour of liberty, and his votes on those questions. But there is a time\nfor all things.\" We need not, however, confine our vindication of Burke\nto his own eloquence, but invite the especial attention of his accusers\nand defamers unto two forgotten facts: 1st. A few weeks before Fox died,\nhe dictated a despatch to Lord Yarmouth, which confirmed all the policy\nfor which Pitt for fifteen years had contended: moreover, in a debate\non Wyndham's \"Military System,\" 1806, Fox thus delivered his own\nrecantation:--\"Indeed, by the circumstances of Europe, I AM READY\nTO CONFESS I HAVE BEEN WEANED FROM THE OPINIONS I FORMERLY HELD WITH\nRESPECT TO THE FORCE WHICH MIGHT SUFFICE IN TIME OF PEACE: nor do I\nconsider this any inconsistency, because I see no rational prospect\nof any peace, which would exempt us from the necessity of watchful\npreparation and powerful establishment.\" But the change of Fox's\nopinions, and their similarity to those maintained by Pitt, with\nreference to our war with France, are by no means ALL which history can\nproduce in justification of Burke's political wisdom and consistency.\nThe whole civilized world has read the \"Reflections on the French\nRevolution,\" whose sale, in one year, achieved the enormous number of\n30,000 copies, in connection with medals or marks of honour from almost\nevery Court in Europe. Now, of all the replies made to this masterpiece\nof reasoning and reflection, Mackintosh's \"Vindiciae Gallicae\" was\nincontestably the ablest and profoundest. And yet, the greatest of\nall his intellectual opponents thus addresses Burke, as appears from\n\"Memoirs\" of Mackintosh, volume i. page 87:--\"The enthusiasm with which\nI once embraced the instruction conveyed in your writings is now ripened\ninto solid conviction by the experience and conviction of more mature\nage. For a time, SEDUCED BY THE LOVE OF WHAT I THOUGHT LIBERTY, I\nventured to oppose, without ceasing to venerate, that writer who\nhad nourished my understanding with the most wholesome principles\nof political wisdom...Since that time, A MELANCHOLY EXPERIENCE HAS\nUNDECEIVED ME ON MANY SUBJECTS, IN WHICH I WAS THE DUPE OF MY OWN\nENTHUSIASM.\" Let us part from this branch of our subject by quoting\nBurke's own words, uttered, as it were, on the very brink of eternity.\nThey attest, to the latest moment of his life, with what a sacred\nintensity and unflinching sincerity he clung to his original sentiments\ntouching the French Revolution. Nor let the present writer shrink\nfrom adding, they constitute but one of the many specimens of that\ninstinctive prescience, whereby this profoundest of philosophical\nstatesmen was enabled to herald from afar the final triumphs of courage,\npatriotism, and truth. The passage occurs towards the conclusion of his\n\"Letters on a Regicide Peace,\" and is as follows:--\"Never succumb. It is\na struggle for your existence as a nation. If you must die, die with the\nsword in your hand. But I have no fear whatever for the result. There\nis a salient living principle of energy in the public mind of England,\nwhich only requires proper direction to enable her to withstand this,\nor any other ferocious foe. Persevere, therefore, till this tyranny be\nover-past.\"\n\nIf from the glare of public history, we follow this great man into\nthe shades of domestic seclusion, or watch the features of his social\ncharacter unfolding themselves in the varied circle which he graced\nby his presence, or dignified by his worth,--he is alike the object of\nrespectful esteem and love. Warmth of heart, chivalry of sentiment,\nand that true high-breeding which springs from the soul rather than a\npedigree, eminently characterise the history of Burke in private life.\nAbove all, a sympathising tendency for the children of Genius, and a\ncatholic largeness of view in all which relates unto mental\neffort, combined with the utmost charity for human failings and\ninfirmities,--cannot but endear him to our deepest affections, while his\nunrivalled endowments command our highest admiration. To illustrate\nwhat is here alluded to, let the reader recall Burke's noble generosity\ntowards that erratic victim of genius and grief,--the painter Barry; or\nhis instantaneous sympathy in behalf of Crabbe the poet, when almost a\nfoodless wanderer in our vast metropolis; and our estimate of Burke's\nexcellencies as a man, will not be deemed overdrawn.\n\nIt now remains for the selector of the following pages to offer a few\nremarks on their nature, and design. Accustomed, from the earliest\nperiod of his mental life to read and study the writings of Edmund\nBurke, he has long wished that such a selection as now appears, should\nbe published. The works of Burke extend through a vast range of large\nvolumes; and it is feared thousands have been deterred from holding\ncommunion with a master-spirit of British literature, by the magnitude\nof his labours. Hence, a concentrated specimen of his intellect may not\nonly tempt the \"reading public\" (Coleridge's horror, yet an author's\nfriend!) to study some of Burke's noblest passages, but even ultimately\nto introduce them into a full acquaintance with his entire products.\nLet it be distinctly understood, the selection now published, is not a\nsecond-hand one, grafted on some pre-existing volume; but the result\nof a diligent, careful, and analytical perusal of Burke's writings. In\nattempting such a work, there was one difficulty, which none but those\nwho have intimately studied this great orator can appreciate,--we allude\nto the giving general titles, or descriptive headings, to passages\nselected for quotation. There is a mental fulness, a moral variety, and\nsuch a rapid transition of idea, in most of Burke's speeches, that it\nalmost baffles ability to abbreviate the spirit of his paragraphs, so\nas to exhibit under some general head the bearing of the whole. The\nselector, in this respect, can only say, he has done his best; and those\nwho are most competent to appreciate difficulty, will be least inclined\nto criticise failure.\n\nFinally, as to the leading design of this volume, its title, \"First\nPrinciples,\" is sufficiently descriptive to save much explanation. Burke\nrepresents an unrivalled combination of patriot, senator, and orator;\nand as such, the moral and intellectual nature of the Age will be\npurified and expanded, when brought into contact with the attributes of\nhis character, and the productions of his mind. Nor can the meditative\nstatesman, whose party is his country, and whose political creed is\nbased upon a true philosophy of human nature, forget,--that while the\nFrench revolution, as involving FACTS, belongs to History, as\nenclosing PRINCIPLES, it appertains to Humanity: and hence, the abiding\napplication of Burke's profound views, not only to France and England,\nbut to the world. Of course, those who reverence the majesty of\neloquence, and are fascinated by a florid richness of style, boundless\nimagination, inexhaustible metaphor, and all the attending graces of\nconsummate rhetoric, will also be charmed by the appropriate supply\nthese pages afford. But, without seeking to be homiletical, let the\nwriter be permitted to add, a far higher purpose than mere literary\namusement, or the gratification of taste, is designed by the present\nvolume. It is the selector's most earnest hope, that the \"First\nPrinciples\" these pages so eloquently inculcate, may be transcribed in\nall their purity, loftiness, and truth, into the Reason and Conscience\nof his countrymen. And among these, for whose especial guidance he\nventures to think the profound wisdom of these pages to be invaluable,\nare the rising statesmen and senators of the day, who are either being\ntrained in our Public Schools, at the Universities, or about to enter\nupon the difficult but inspiring arena of the House of Commons. In\nreference to this sphere of legislative action, with all reverence to\nits claims and character, let it be said,--material ends (a boundless\npassion for physical good, whether indulged in by a nation, or professed\nby an individual, is rebuked with solemn wisdom in the following passage\nfrom Aristotle:--\"The external advantages of power and fortune are\nacquired and maintained by virtue, but virtue is not acquired and\nmaintained by them; and whether we consider the virtuous energies\nthemselves, or the fruits which they unceasingly produce, THE SOVEREIGN\nGOOD OF LIFE MUST EVIDENTLY BE FOUND IN MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL\nEXCELLENCE, MODERATELY SUPPLIED WITH EXTERNAL ACCOMMODATIONS, RATHER\nTHAN IN THE GREATEST ACCUMULATION OF EXTERNAL ADVANTAGES, UNIMPROVED\nAND UNADORNED BY VIRTUE. External prosperity is, indeed, instrumental in\nproducing happiness, and, therefore, like every other instrument, must\nhave its assigned limits, beyond which it is inconvenient or hurtful.\nBut to mental excellence no limit can be assigned; the further it\nextends the more USEFUL it becomes, if the epithet of 'USEFUL' need ever\nbe added to that of HONOURABLE. Besides this, the relative importance\nof qualities is best estimated by that of their respective subjects. But\nthe mind, both in itself and in reference to man, is far better than the\nbody, or than property. The excellencies of the mind, therefore, are\nin the same proportion to be preferred to the highest perfection of the\nbody, and the best disposition of external circumstances. The two last\nare of a far inferior, and merely subservient nature; since no man of\nsense covets or pursues them, but for the sake of the mind, with a view\nto promote its genuine improvement and augment its native joys. Let this\ngreat truth then be acknowledged,--A TRUTH EVINCED BY THE DEITY HIMSELF,\nWHO IS HAPPY, NOT FROM ANY EXTERNAL CAUSE, BUT THROUGH THE INHERENT\nATTRIBUTES OF HIS DIVINE NATURE.\"--\"Politics,\" lib. iv.), commercial\nobjects, and secular aggrandizement, are now receiving an idolatrous\nhomage and passionate regard, which no Christian patriot can contemplate\nwithout anxiety. The ideal, the imaginative, and the religious element,\nis almost sneered out of the House of Commons at the existing moment;\nand any glowing exhibition of oratory, or splendid manifestation of\nintellect, is derided, as being \"unpractical\" and ill-adapted to the\nsobriety of the English Senate! Against this heartless materialism and\nunholy mammon-worship, Burke's pages are a magnificent protest; and are\nadmirably suited to protect the political youth and dawning statesmen\nof our country, from the blight and the blast of doctrines which decry\nEnthusiasm as folly, and condemn the Beautiful as worthless and untrue.\nShips, colonies, and commerce; exports and imports; taxes and imposts;\ncharters and civic arrangements,--none but a madman will depreciate\nwhat such themes involve, of duty, energy, and zeal, in political life.\nStill, let it be fearlessly maintained, neither wealth, nor commerce, IN\nTHEMSELVES, can constitute the real greatness of an empire; it is\nonly because they stand in relation to the higher destinies and holier\nresponsibilities of an Empire, that a true statesman will regard them as\nvitally wound up with the vigour and prosperity of national development.\nSuch, at least, is the philosophy of Politics, breathed from the undying\npages of Edmund Burke. He who studies this great writer, will, more\nand more, sympathise with what Hooker taught, and Bishop Sanderson\ninculcates. In one word, he will learn to venerate with increasing\nreverence THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION, as\n\n    \"That peerless growth of patriotic mind,\n     The great eternal Wonder of mankind!\"\n\nBurke traced the ultimate origin of civil government to the Divine\nWill, both as declared in Revelation, and imaged forth by the moral\nConstitution of man. In this respect, it is well-known how fundamentally\nhe differs from the theories of Hobbes, Mandeville, Shaftesbury, and\nHutcheson. Not less also, is he opposed to Locke, who tells us,--\"The\noriginal compact which begins and ACTUALLY CONSTITUTES ANY POLITICAL\nSOCIETY, IS NOTHING BUT THE CONSENT OF ANY NUMBER OF FREEMEN CAPABLE OF\nA MAJORITY, TO UNITE AND INCORPORATE INTO SUCH A SOCIETY. AND THIS IS\nTHAT, AND THAT ONLY, WHICH COULD GIVE BEGINNING TO ANY LAWFUL GOVERNMENT\nIN THE WORLD.\" In one word, Locke declares that civil government is not\nfrom God in the way of principle, but from man in the way of fact; and\nthus, being a mere contingency, or moral accident in the history of\nhuman development, self-government is the essential prerogative of our\nnature. In accordance with this irrational and unscriptural hypothesis,\nwe find Price and Priestly expanding Locke's views at the period of\nBurke; while in the writings of that apostle of political Antinomianism,\nRousseau, and his English counterpart Tom Paine,--the principles of the\nASSUMED \"CONTRAT SOCIAL\" display their utmost virulence. This is not\nthe place to discuss the origin of Civil Government; but the classical\nreader, who has been taught to revere the political wisdom of those\nancient Teachers, whose insight was almost prophetical in abstract\nscience, will thank us for an extract from Aristotle's \"Politics,\" which\nbears upon this subject. It presents a most striking coincidence of\nsentiment between two master-spirits on the philosophy of government;\nand will at once remind the reader of Burke's memorable passage,\nbeginning with, \"Society is a partnership,\" etc. etc. The passage to\nwhich we allude in Aristotle's \"Politics,\" begins thus: \"Ote men oun e\npolis phusei proteron e ekastos,\" k.t.l. The whole passage may be thus\nfreely translated. \"A participation in rights and advantages forms the\nbond of political society; AN INSTITUTION PRIOR, IN THE INTENTION OF\nNATURE, TO THE FAMILIES AND INDIVIDUALS FROM WHOM IT IS CONSTITUTED.\nWhat members are to the body, that citizens are to a commonwealth.\nThe hands or foot, when separated from the body, retains its name, but\ntotally changes its nature, because it is completely divested of its\nuses and powers. In the same manner a citizen is a constituent part of\na whole system, which invests him with powers and qualifies him for\nfunctions for which, in his individual capacity, he is totally unfit;\nand independently of such system, he might subsist indeed as a lonely\nsavage, but could never attain that improved and happy state to which\nhis progressive nature invariably tends. Perfected by the offices and\nduties of social life, man is the best; but, rude and undisciplined, he\nis the very worst, of animals. For nothing is more detestable than armed\nimprobity; and man is armed with craft and courage, which, uncontrolled\nby justice, he will most wickedly pervert, and become at once the most\nimpious and fiercest of monsters, the most abominable in gluttony,\nand shameless in personality. But justice is the fundamental virtue\nof political society, since the order of Society cannot be maintained\nwithout law, and laws are constituted to proclaim what is just.\" Let us\nadd to this noble passage, Aristotle remarks in his \"Ethics\" (lib. x. c.\n8), that a higher destination than political virtue is the true end\nof man. In this respect, he concurs with Plato; who teaches us in his\n\"Theaetetus,\" the main object of human pursuit ought to be \"omoiosis to\ntheo kata to dunaton,\" etc. etc.; i.e. \"A similitude unto God as far\nas possible; which similitude consists in an imitation of His justice,\nholiness, and wisdom.\" To conclude: the noblest end of all Policy on\nearth, is to educate Human Nature for that august \"politeuma\" (Phil.\niii. v. 20), that Eternal Commonwealth which awaits perfected Spirits\nabove, when, through infinite grace, they are finally admitted into a\n\"CITY which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.\" (Heb.\nxi. 10.) (The dim approximations of Platonic philosophy to certain\ndiscoveries in Divine Revelation, have rightly challenged the attention\nof theological enquirers. The above quotation from St. Paul suggests\na reference to one of these, which occurs towards the termination of\nPlato's ninth book of \"The Republic.\" He is uttering a protest against\nour concluding, that because degeneracy appears to be the invariable law\nor destiny of all human commonwealths, THEREFORE, no Archetypal Model\nexists of any perfect state, or polity: and then, in opposition to this\npolitical scepticism, Plato adds these remarkable words:--\"en\nourano isos paradeigma anakeitai to boulomeno oran kai oronti eauton\nkatoikizein,\" etc. etc.--\"The state we have here established, which\nexists only in our reasoning, but it seems to me, HAS NO EXISTENCE ON\nEARTH. BUT IN HEAVEN, PROBABLY, I REPLIED, THERE IS A MODEL OF IT FOR\nANY ONE INCLINED TO CONTEMPLATE THE SAME, AND BY SO CONTEMPLATING IT, TO\nREGULATE HIMSELF ACCORDINGLY.\")\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\nThe following are the critical sketches of Burke's character, alluded\nto in the commencement of this Essay. They are from the pens of his most\ndistinguished contemporaries, WHO WERE OPPOSED TO HIM in their political\nviews and public career.\n\n(From SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.)\n\n\"There can be no hesitation in according to him a station among the\nmost extraordinary men that ever appeared; and we think there is now but\nlittle diversity of opinion as to the kind of place which it is fit to\nassign him. He was a writer of the first class, and excelled in almost\nevery kind of composition. Possessed of most extensive knowledge, and\nof the most various description; acquainted alike with what different\nclasses of men knew, each in his own province, and with much that hardly\nany one ever thought of learning; he could either bring his masses of\ninformation to bear directly upon the subjects to which they severally\nbelonged,--or he could avail himself of them generally to strengthen\nhis faculties, and enlarge his views,--or he could turn any of them\nto account for the purpose of illustrating his theme, or enriching his\ndiction. Hence, when he is handling any one matter, we perceive that we\nare conversing with a reasoner or a teacher, to whom almost every other\nbranch of knowledge is familiar: his views range over all the cognate\nobjects; his reasonings are derived from principles applicable to other\nthemes, as well as the one in hand; arguments pour in from all sides, as\nwell as those which start up under our feet,--the natural growth of the\npath he is leading us over; while to throw light round our steps,\nand either explore its darkest places, or serve for our recreation;\nillustrations are fetched from a thousand quarters, and an imagination\nmarvellously quick to descry unthought of resemblances, points to our\nuse the stores, which a love yet more marvellously has gathered from\nall ages and nations, and arts and tongues. We are, in respect of the\nargument, reminded of Bacon's multifarious knowledge, and the exuberance\nof his learned fancy; whilst the many-lettered diction recalls to mind\nthe first of English poets, and his immortal verse, rich with the spoils\nof all sciences and all times.\n\n...\n\n\"He produced but one philosophical treatise; but no man lays down\nabstract principles more soundly, or better traces their application.\nAll his works, indeed, even his controversial, are so infused with\ngeneral reflection, so variegated with speculative discussion, that they\nwear the air of the Lyceum, as well as the Academy.\"\n\n(From LORD ERSKINE.)\n\n\"I shall take care to put Burke's work on the French Revolution into the\nhands of those whose principles are left to my protection. I shall take\ncare that they have the advantage of doing, in the regular progression\nof youthful studies, what I have done even in the short intervals of\nlaborious life; that they shall transcribe with their own hands from all\nthe works of this most extraordinary person, and from this last, among\nthe rest, the soundest truths of religion, the justest principles\nof morals, inculcated and rendered delightful by the most sublime\neloquence; the highest reach of philosophy brought down to the level\nof common minds by the most captivating taste; the most enlightened\nobservations on history, and the most copious collection of useful\nmaxims for the experience of common life.\"\n\n(From KING, Bishop of Rochester.) \"In the mind of Mr. Burke political\nprinciples were not objects of barren speculation. Wisdom in him was\nalways practical. Whatever his understanding adopted as truth, made its\nway to his heart, and sank deep into it; and his ardent and generous\nfeelings seized with promptitude every occasion of applying it to\nmankind. Where shall we find recorded exertions of active benevolence\nat once so numerous, so varied, and so important, made by one man? Among\nthose, the redress of wrongs, and the protection of weakness from the\noppression of power, were most conspicuous.\n\n...\n\nThe assumption of arbitrary power, in whatever shape it appeared,\nwhether under the veil of legitimacy, or skulking in the disguise\nof State necessity, or presenting the shameless front of\nusurpation--whether the prescriptive claim of ascendancy, or the career\nof official authority, or the newly-acquired dominion of a mob,--was the\npure object of his detestation and hostility; and this is not a fanciful\nenumeration of possible cases,\" etc.\n\n\n\n\nSELECTIONS FROM THE SPEECHES AND WRITINGS OF EDMUND BURKE.\n\n\n\n\nNATURE AND FUNCTIONS OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.\n\nWhatever alterations time and the necessary accommodation of business\nmay have introduced, this character can never be sustained, unless\nthe House of Commons shall be made to bear some stamp of the actual\ndisposition of the people at large. It would (among public misfortunes)\nbe an evil more natural and tolerable, that the House of Commons should\nbe infected with every epidemical frenzy of the people, as this\nwould indicate some consanguinity, some sympathy of nature with their\nconstituents, than that they should in all cases be wholly untouched by\nthe opinions and feelings of the people out of doors. By this want of\nsympathy they would cease to be a house of commons. For it is not the\nderivation of the power of that house from the people, which makes it in\na distinct sense their representative. The king is the representative of\nthe people; so are the lords, so are the judges. They all are trustees\nfor the people, as well as the commons; because no power is given for\nthe sole sake of the holder; and although government certainly is an\ninstitution of Divine authority, yet its forms, and the persons who\nadminister it, all originate from the people.\n\nA popular origin cannot therefore be the characteristical distinction\nof a popular representative. This belongs equally to all parts of\ngovernment, and in all forms. The virtue, spirit, and essence of a house\nof commons consists in its being the express image of the feelings of\nthe nation. It was not instituted to be a control UPON the people, as of\nlate it has been taught, by a doctrine of the most pernicious tendency.\nIt was designed as a control FOR the people. Other institutions have\nbeen formed for the purpose of checking popular excesses; and they are,\nI apprehend, fully adequate to their object. If not, they ought to be\nmade so. The House of Commons, as it was never intended for the support\nof peace and subordination, is miserably appointed for that service;\nhaving no stronger weapon than its mace, and no better officer than its\nserjeant-at-arms, which it can command of its own proper authority.\nA vigilant and jealous eye over executory and judicial magistracy; an\nanxious care of public money; an openness, approaching towards facility,\nto public complaint; these seem to be the true characteristics of a\nhouse of commons. But an addressing house of commons, and a petitioning\nnation; a house of commons full of confidence, when the nation is\nplunged in despair; in the utmost harmony with ministers, whom the\npeople regard with the utmost abhorrence; who vote thanks, when the\npublic opinion calls upon them for impeachments; who are eager to grant,\nwhen the general voice demands account; who, in all disputes between the\npeople and administration, presume against the people; who punish their\ndisorders, but refuse even to inquire into the provocations to them;\nthis is an unnatural, a monstrous state of things in this constitution.\nSuch an assembly may be a great, wise, awful senate; but it is not, to\nany popular purpose, a house of commons. This change from an immediate\nstate of procuration and delegation to a course of acting as from\noriginal power, is the way in which all the popular magistracies in\nthe world have been perverted from their purposes. It is indeed their\ngreatest and sometimes their incurable corruption. For there is a\nmaterial distinction between that corruption by which particular points\nare carried against reason (this is a thing which cannot be prevented\nby human wisdom, and is of less consequence), and the corruption of the\nprinciple itself. For then the evil is not accidental, but settled. The\ndistemper becomes the natural habit.\n\n\n\n\nRETROSPECT AND RESIGNATION.\n\nYou are but just entering into the world; I am going out of it. I have\nplayed long enough to be heartily tired of the drama. Whether I have\nacted my part in it well or ill, posterity will judge with more candour\nthan I, or than the present age, with our present passions, can possibly\npretend to. For my part, I quit it without a sigh, and submit to the\nsovereign order without murmuring. The nearer we approach to the goal of\nlife, the better we begin to understand the true value of our existence,\nand the real weight of our opinions. We set out much in love with both:\nbut we leave much behind us as we advance. We first throw away the tales\nalong with the rattles of our nurses; those of the priest keep their\nhold a little longer; those of our governors the longest of all. But the\npassions which prop these opinions are withdrawn one after another; and\nthe cool light of reason, at the setting of our life, shows us what\na false splendour played upon these objects during our more sanguine\nseasons.\n\n\n\n\nMODESTY OF MIND.\n\nIf any inquiry thus carefully conducted should fail at last of\ndiscovering the truth, it may answer an end perhaps as useful, in\ndiscovering to us the weakness of our own understanding. If it does not\nmake us knowing, it may make us modest. If it does not preserve us\nfrom error, it may at least from the spirit of error; and may make us\ncautious of pronouncing with positiveness or with haste, when so much\nlabour may end in so much uncertainty.\n\n\n\n\nNEWTON AND NATURE.\n\nWhen Newton first discovered the property of attraction, and settled\nits laws, he found it served very well to explain several of the most\nremarkable phenomena in nature; but yet with reference to the general\nsystem of things, he could consider attraction but as an effect, whose\ncause at that time he did not attempt to trace. But when he afterwards\nbegan to account for it by a subtle elastic aether, this great man (if\nin so great a man it be not impious to discover anything like a blemish)\nseemed to have quitted his usual cautious manner of philosophising:\nsince, perhaps, allowing all that has been advanced on this subject to\nbe sufficiently proved, I think it leaves us with as many difficulties\nas it found us. That great chain of causes, which linking one to another\neven to the throne of God himself, can never be unravelled by any\nindustry of ours. When we go but one step beyond the immediate sensible\nqualities of things, we go out of our depth. All we do after is but a\nfaint struggle, that shows we are in an element which does not belong to\nus.\n\n\n\n\nTHEORY AND PRACTICE.\n\nIt is, I own, not uncommon to be wrong in theory, and right in practice;\nand we are happy that it is so. Men often act right from their feelings,\nwho afterwards reason but ill on them from principle: but as it is\nimpossible to avoid an attempt at such reasoning, and equally impossible\nto prevent its having some influence on our practice, surely it is worth\ntaking some pains to have it just, and founded on the basis of sure\nexperience.\n\n\n\n\nINDUCTION AND COMPARISON.\n\nWe must not attempt to fly, when we can scarcely pretend to creep.\nIn considering any complex matter, we ought to examine every distinct\ningredient in the composition, one by one; and reduce everything to\nthe utmost simplicity; since the condition of our nature binds us to a\nstrict law and vary narrow limits. We ought afterwards to re-examine the\nprinciples by the effect of the composition, as well as the composition\nby that of the principles. We ought to compare our subject with things\nof a similar nature, and even with things of a contrary nature; for\ndiscoveries may be, and often are, made by the contrast, which would\nescape us on the single view. The greater number of the comparisons we\nmake, the more general and the more certain our knowledge is likely to\nprove, as built upon a more extensive and perfect induction.\n\n\n\n\nDIVINE POWER ON THE HUMAN IDEA.\n\nWhilst we consider the Godhead merely as he is an object of the\nunderstanding, which forms a complex idea of power, wisdom, justice,\ngoodness, all stretched to a degree far exceeding the bounds of our\ncomprehension, whilst we consider the Divinity in this refined and\nabstracted light, the imagination and passions are little or nothing\naffected. But because we are bound, by the condition of our nature,\nto ascend to these pure and intellectual ideas, through the medium of\nsensible images, to judge of these divine qualities by their evident\nacts and exertions, it becomes extremely hard to disentangle our idea of\nthe cause from the effect by which we are led to know it. Thus, when we\ncontemplate the Deity, his attributes and their operation, coming united\non the mind, form a sort of sensible image, and as such are capable\nof affecting the imagination. Now, though in a just idea of the Deity,\nperhaps none of his attributes are predominant, yet, to our imagination,\nhis power is by far the most striking. Some reflection, some comparing,\nis necessary to satisfy us of his wisdom, his justice, and his goodness.\nTo be struck with his power, it is only necessary that we should open\nour eyes. But whilst we contemplate so vast an object, under the arm,\nas it were of almighty power, and invested upon every side with\nomnipresence, we shrink into the minuteness of our own nature, and are,\nin a manner, annihilated before him.\n\n\n\n\nUNION OF LOVE AND DREAD IN RELIGION.\n\nTrue religion has, and must have, a large mixture of salutary fear; and\nfalse religions have generally nothing else but fear to support them.\nBefore the Christian religion had, as it were, humanized the idea of the\nDivinity, and brought it somewhat nearer to us, there was very little\nsaid of the love of God. The followers of Plato have something of it,\nand only something; the other writers of pagan antiquity, whether\npoets or philosophers, nothing at all. And they who consider with what\ninfinite attention, by what a disregard of every perishable object,\nthrough what long habits of piety and contemplation it is that any man\nis able to attain an entire love and devotion to the Deity, will\neasily perceive that it is not the first, the most natural and the most\nstriking, effect which proceeds from that idea.\n\n\n\n\nOFFICE OF SYMPATHY.\n\nWhenever we are formed by nature to any active purpose, the passion\nwhich animates us to it is attended with delight, or a pleasure of some\nkind, let the subject-matter be what it will; and as our Creator had\ndesigned that we should be united by the bond of sympathy, he has\nstrengthened that bond by a proportionable delight; and there most where\nour sympathy is most wanted,--in the distresses of others.\n\n\n\n\nWORDS.\n\nNatural objects affect us, by the laws of that connexion which\nProvidence has established between certain motions and configurations of\nbodies, and certain consequent feelings in our mind. Painting affects\nin the same manner, but with the superadded pleasure of imitation.\nArchitecture affects by the laws of nature, and the law of reason; from\nwhich latter result the rules of proportion, which make a work to be\npraised or censured, in the whole or in some part, when the end for\nwhich it was designed is or is not properly answered. But as to words;\nthey seem to me to affect us in a manner very different from that\nin which we are affected by natural objects, or by painting or\narchitecture; yet words have as considerable a share in exciting ideas\nof beauty and of the sublime as many of those, and sometimes a much\ngreater than any of them.\n\n\n\n\nNATURE ANTICIPATES MAN.\n\nWhenever the wisdom of our Creator intended that we should be affected\nwith anything, he did not confide the execution of his design to the\nlanguid and precarious operation of our reason; but he endued it with\npowers and properties that prevent the understanding, and even the\nwill; which, seizing upon the senses and imagination, captivate the soul\nbefore the understanding is ready either to join with them, or to oppose\nthem. It is by a long deduction, and much study, that we discover the\nadorable wisdom of God in his works: when we discover it, the effect is\nvery different, not only in the manner of acquiring it, but in its own\nnature, from that which strikes us without any preparation from the\nsublime or the beautiful.\n\n\n\n\nSELF-INSPECTION.\n\nWhatever turns the soul inward on itself, tends to concentre its forces,\nand to fit it for greater and stronger flights of science. By looking\ninto physical causes our minds are opened and enlarged; and in this\npursuit, whether we take or whether we lose our game, the chase is\ncertainly of service.\n\n\n\n\nPOWER OF THE OBSCURE.\n\nPoetry, with all its obscurity, has a more general, as well as a more\npowerful, dominion over the passions, than the other art. And I think\nthere are reasons in nature, why the obscure idea, when properly\nconveyed, should be more affecting than the clear. It is our ignorance\nof things that causes all our admiration, and chiefly excites our\npassions. Knowledge and acquaintance make the most striking causes\naffect but little. It is thus with the vulgar; and all men are as\nthe vulgar in what they do not understand. The ideas of eternity and\ninfinity, are among the most affecting we have: and yet perhaps there\nis nothing of which we really understand so little, as of infinity and\neternity.\n\n\n\n\nFEMALE BEAUTY.\n\nThe object therefore of this mixed passion, which we call love, is the\nBEAUTY of the SEX. Men are carried to the sex in general, as it is\nthe sex, and by the common law of nature; but they are attached to\nparticulars by personal BEAUTY. I call beauty a social quality; for\nwhere women and men, and not only they, but when other animals give us a\nsense of joy and pleasure in beholding them (and there are many that do\nso), they inspire us with sentiments of tenderness and affection towards\ntheir persons; we like to have them near us, and we enter willingly into\na kind of relation with them, unless we should have strong reasons to\nthe contrary.\n\n\n\n\nNOVELTY AND CURIOSITY.\n\nCuriosity is the most superficial of all the affections; it changes its\nobject perpetually, it has an appetite which is very sharp, but\nvery easily satisfied; and it has always an appearance of giddiness,\nrestlessness, and anxiety. Curiosity, from its nature, is a very active\nprinciple; it quickly runs over the greatest part of its objects, and\nsoon exhausts the variety which is commonly to be met with in nature;\nthe same things make frequent returns, and they return with less and\nless of any agreeable effect. In short, the occurrences of life, by the\ntime we come to know it a little, would be incapable of affecting the\nmind with any other sensations than those of loathing and weariness, if\nmany things were not adapted to affect the mind by means of other powers\nbesides novelty in them, and of other passions besides curiosity in\nourselves.\n\n\n\n\nPLEASURES OF ANALOGY.\n\nThe mind of man has naturally a far greater alacrity and satisfaction\nin tracing resemblances than in searching for differences: because\nby making resemblances we produce NEW IMAGES; we unite, we create, we\nenlarge our stock; but in making distinctions we offer no food at all\nto the imagination; the task itself is more severe and irksome, and\nwhat pleasure we derive from it is something of a negative and indirect\nnature.\n\n\n\n\nAMBITION.\n\nGod has planted in man a sense of ambition, and a satisfaction arising\nfrom the contemplation of his excelling his fellows in something deemed\nvaluable amongst them. It is this passion that drives men to all the\nways we see in use of signalizing themselves, and that tends to make\nwhatever excites in a man the idea of this distinction so very pleasant.\nIt has been so strong as to make very miserable men take comfort, that\nthey were supreme in misery; and certain it is, that, where we cannot\ndistinguish ourselves by something excellent, we begin to take a\ncomplacency in some singular infirmities, follies, or defects of one\nkind or other. It is on this principle that flattery is so prevalent;\nfor flattery is no more than what raises in a man's mind an idea of a\npreference which he has not.\n\n\n\n\nEXTENSIONS OF SYMPATHY.\n\nFor sympathy must be considered as a sort of substitution, by which we\nare put into the place of another man, and affected in many respects as\nhe is affected; so that this passion may either partake of the nature\nof those which regard self-preservation, and turning upon pain may be a\nsource of the sublime; or it may turn upon ideas of pleasure; and then\nwhatever has been said of the social affections, whether they regard\nsociety in general, or only some particular modes of it, may be\napplicable here. It is by this principle chiefly that poetry, painting,\nand other affecting arts, transfuse their passions from one breast to\nanother, and are often capable of grafting a delight on wretchedness,\nmisery, and death itself.\n\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHY OF TASTE.\n\nSo far, then, as taste belongs to the imagination, its principle is\nthe same in all men; there is no different in the manner of their being\naffected, nor in the causes of the affection; but in the DEGREE there\nis a difference, which arises from two causes principally; either from\na greater degree of natural sensibility, or from a closer and longer\nattention to the object.\n\n\n\n\nCLEARNESS AND STRENGTH IN STYLE.\n\nWe do not sufficiently distinguish, in our observations upon language,\nbetween a clear expression and a strong expression. These are frequently\nconfounded with each other, though they are in reality extremely\ndifferent. The former regards the understanding; the latter belongs to\nthe passions. The one describes a thing as it is; the latter describes\nit as it is felt. Now, as there is a moving tone of voice, an\nimpassioned countenance, an agitated gesture, which affect independently\nof the things about which they are exerted, so there are words, and\ncertain dispositions of words, which being peculiarly devoted to\npassionate subjects, and always used by those who are under the\ninfluence of any passion, touch and move us more than those which far\nmore clearly and distinctly express the subject-matter. We yield\nto sympathy what we refuse to description. The truth is, all verbal\ndescription, merely as naked description, though never so exact, conveys\nso poor and insufficient an idea of the thing described, that it could\nscarcely have the smallest effect, if the speaker did not call in to\nhis aid those modes of speech that mark a strong and lively feeling in\nhimself. Then, by the contagion of our passions, we catch a fire already\nkindled in another, which probably might never have been struck out\nby the object described. Words, by strongly conveying the passions, by\nthose means which we have already mentioned, fully compensate for their\nweakness in other respects.\n\n\n\n\nUNITY OF IMAGINATION.\n\nSince the imagination is only the representation of the senses, it can\nonly be pleased or displeased with the images, from the same principle\non which the sense is pleased or displeased with the realities;\nand consequently there must be just as close an agreement in the\nimaginations as in the senses of men. A little attention will convince\nus that this must of necessity be the case.\n\n\n\n\nEFFECT OF WORDS.\n\nIf words have all their possible extent of power, three effects arise\nin the mind of the hearer. The first is, the SOUND; the second, the\nPICTURE, or representation of the thing signified by the sound; the\nthird is, the AFFECTION of the soul produced by one or by both of the\nforegoing. COMPOUNDED ABSTRACT words, of which we have been speaking\n(honour, justice, liberty, and the like), produce the first and the\nlast of these effects, but not the second. SIMPLE ABSTRACTS, are used to\nsignify some one simple idea without much adverting to others which may\nchance to attend it, as blue, green, hot, cold, and the like; these\nare capable of effecting all three of the purposes of words; as the\nAGGREGATE words, man, castle, horse, etc. are in a yet higher degree.\nBut I am of opinion, that the most general effect, even of these words,\ndoes not arise from their forming pictures of the several things\nthey would represent in the imagination; because, on a very diligent\nexamination of my own mind, and getting others to consider theirs, I do\nnot find that once in twenty times any such picture is formed, and, when\nit is, there is most commonly a particular effort of the imagination\nfor that purpose. But the aggregate words operate, as I said of the\ncompound-abstracts, not by presenting any image to the mind, but by\nhaving from use the same effect on being mentioned, that their original\nhas when it is seen.\n\n\n\n\nINVESTIGATION.\n\nI am convinced that the method of teaching which approaches most nearly\nto the method of investigation is incomparably the best; since, not\ncontent with serving up a few barren and lifeless truths, it leads to\nthe stock on which they grew; it tends to set the reader himself in\nthe track of invention, and to direct him into those paths in which the\nauthor has made his own discoveries, if he should be so happy as to have\nmade any that are valuable.\n\nTHE SUBLIME.\n\nWhatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger,\nthat is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about\nterrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is\na source of the SUBLIME; that is, it is productive of the strongest\nemotion which the mind is capable of feeling.\n\n\n\n\nOBSCURITY.\n\nThose despotic governments which are founded on the passions of men, and\nprincipally upon the passion of fear, keep their chief as much as may\nbe from the public eye. The policy has been the same in many cases\nof religion. Almost all the heathen temples were dark. Even in the\nbarbarous temples of the Americans at this day, they keep their idol\nin a dark part of the hut which is consecrated to his worship. For this\npurpose too the Druids performed all their ceremonies in the bosom of\nthe darkest woods, and in the shade of the oldest and most spreading\noaks. No person seems better to have understood the secret of\nheightening, or of setting terrible things, if I may use the expression,\nin their strongest light, by the force of a judicious obscurity, than\nMilton.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCIPLES OF TASTE.\n\nWhatever certainty is to be acquired in morality and the science of\nlife; just the same degree of certainty have we in what relates to them\nin works of imitation. Indeed, it is for the most part in our skill in\nmanners, and in the observances of time and place, and of decency in\ngeneral, which is only to be learned in those schools to which Horace\nrecommends us, that what is called taste, by way of distinction,\nconsists; and which is in reality no other than a more refined judgment.\nOn the whole it appears to me, that what is called taste, in its most\ngeneral acceptation, is not a simple idea, but is partly made up of a\nperception of the primary pleasures of sense, of the secondary pleasures\nof the imagination, and of the conclusions of the reasoning faculty,\nconcerning the various relations of these, and concerning the human\npassions, manners, and actions. All this is requisite to form taste, and\nthe ground-work of all these is the same in the human mind; for as the\nsenses are the great originals of all our ideas, and consequently of\nall our pleasures, if they are not uncertain and arbitrary, the\nwhole ground-work of taste is common to all, and therefore there is a\nsufficient foundation for a conclusive reasoning on these matters.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL.\n\nBeauty is a thing much too affecting not to depend upon some positive\nqualities. And, since it is no creature of our reason, since it strikes\nus without any reference to use, and even where no use at all can\nbe discerned, since the order and method of nature is generally very\ndifferent from our measures and proportions, we must conclude that\nbeauty is, for the greater part, some quality in bodies acting\nmechanically upon the human mind by the intervention of the senses.\n\n\n\n\nTHE REAL AND THE IDEAL.\n\nChoose a day on which to represent the most sublime and affecting\ntragedy we have: appoint the most favourite actors; spare no cost\nupon the scenes and decorations; unite the greatest efforts of poetry,\npainting, and music; and when you have collected your audience, just\nat the moment when their minds are erect with expectation, let it be\nreported that a state criminal of high rank is on the point of being\nexecuted in the adjoining square; in a moment the emptiness of the\ntheatre would demonstrate the comparative weakness of the imitative\narts, and proclaim the triumph of the real sympathy. I believe that this\nnotion of our having a simple pain in the reality, yet a delight in\nthe representation, arises from hence, that we do not sufficiently\ndistinguish what we would by no means choose to do, from what we should\nbe eager enough to see if it was once done. We delight in seeing things,\nwhich so far from doing, our heartiest wishes would be to see redressed.\nThis noble capital, the pride of England and of Europe, I believe no man\nis so strangely wicked as to desire to see destroyed by a conflagration\nor an earthquake, though he should be removed himself to the greatest\ndistance from the danger. But suppose such a fatal accident to have\nhappened, what numbers from all parts would crowd to behold the ruins,\nand amongst them many who would have been content never to have seen\nLondon in its glory!\n\n\n\n\nJUDGMENT IN ART.\n\nA rectitude of judgment in the arts, which may be called a good taste,\ndoes in a great measure depend upon sensibility; because, if the mind\nhas no bent to the pleasures of the imagination, it will never apply\nitself sufficiently to works of that species to acquire a competent\nknowledge in them. But, though a degree of sensibility is requisite to\nform a good judgment, yet a good judgment does not necessarily arise\nfrom a quick sensibility of pleasure.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL EFFECTS OF LANGUAGE.\n\nThis arises chiefly from these three causes. First. That we take an\nextraordinary part in the passions of others, and that we are easily\naffected and brought into sympathy by any tokens which are shown of\nthem; and there are no tokens which can express all the circumstances\nof most passions so fully as words; so that if a person speaks upon any\nsubject, he can not only convey the subject to you, but likewise the\nmanner in which he is himself affected by it. Certain it is, that the\ninfluence of most things on our passions is not so much from the things\nthemselves, as from our opinions concerning them; and these again depend\nvery much on the opinions of other men, conveyable for the most part by\nwords only. Secondly. There are many things of a very affecting nature,\nwhich can seldom occur in the reality, but the words that represent them\noften do; and thus they have an opportunity of making a deep impression\nand taking root in the mind, whilst the idea of the reality was\ntransient; and to some perhaps never really occurred in any shape, to\nwhom it is notwithstanding very affecting, as war, death, famine, etc.\nBesides, many ideas have never been at all presented to the senses of\nany men but by words, as God, angels, devils, heaven, and hell, all of\nwhich have, however, a great influence over the passions. Thirdly. By\nwords we have it in our power to make such COMBINATIONS as we cannot\npossibly do otherwise. By this power of combining, we are able, by the\naddition of well-chosen circumstances, to give a new life and force\nto the simple object. In painting we may represent any fine figure we\nplease; but we never can give it those enlivening touches which it may\nreceive from words. To represent an angel in a picture, you can only\ndraw a beautiful young man winged: but what painting can furnish out\nanything so grand as the addition of one word, \"the angel of the LORD?\"\n\n\n\n\nSECURITY OF TRUTH.\n\nI then thought, and am still of the same opinion, that error, and not\ntruth of any kind, is dangerous; that ill conclusions can only flow from\nfalse propositions; and that, to know whether any proposition be true\nor false, it is a preposterous method to examine it by its apparent\nconsequences.\n\n\n\n\nIMITATION AN INSTINCTIVE LAW.\n\nFor as sympathy makes us take a concern in whatever men feel, so this\naffection prompts us to copy whatever they do; and consequently we have\na pleasure in imitating, and in whatever belongs to imitation merely\nas it is such, without any intervention of the reasoning faculty, but\nsolely from our natural constitution, which Providence has framed in\nsuch a manner as to find either pleasure or delight, according to the\nnature of the object, in whatever regards the purposes of our being. It\nis by imitation far more than by precept, that we learn everything;\nand what we learn thus, we acquire not only more effectually, but more\npleasantly. This forms our manners, our opinions, our lives. It is one\nof the strongest links of society; it is a species of mutual compliance,\nwhich all men yield to each other, without constraint to themselves, and\nwhich is extremely flattering to all.\n\n\n\n\nSTANDARD OF REASON AND TASTE.\n\nIt is probable that the standard both of reason and taste is the same in\nall human creatures. For if there were not some principles of judgment\nas well as of sentiment common to all mankind, no hold could possibly be\ntaken either on their reason or their passions, sufficient to maintain\nthe ordinary correspondence of life.\n\n\n\n\nUSE OF THEORY.\n\nA theory founded on experiment, and not assumed, is always good for\nso much as it explains. Our inability to push it indefinitely is no\nargument at all against it. This inability may be owing to our ignorance\nof some necessary MEDIUMS; to a want of proper application; to many\nother causes besides a defect in the principles we employ.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICAL OUTCASTS.\n\nIn the mean time, that power, which all these changes aimed at securing,\nremains still as tottering and as uncertain as ever. They are delivered\nup into the hands of those who feel neither respect for their persons,\nnor gratitude for their favours; who are put about them in appearance\nto serve, in reality to govern them; and, when the signal is given, to\nabandon and destroy them, in order to set up some new dupe of ambition,\nwho in his turn is to be abandoned and destroyed. Thus, living in\na state of continual uneasiness and ferment, softened only by the\nmiserable consolation of giving now and then preferments to those for\nwhom they have no value; they are unhappy in their situation, yet\nfind it impossible to resign. Until, at length, soured in temper, and\ndisappointed by the very attainment of their ends, in some angry, in\nsome haughty, or some negligent moment, they incur the displeasure of\nthose upon whom they have rendered their very being dependent. Then\nperierunt tempora longi servitii; they are cast off with scorn; they are\nturned out, emptied of all natural character, of all intrinsic worth, of\nall essential dignity, and deprived of every consolation of friendship.\nHaving rendered all retreat to old principles ridiculous, and to old\nregards impracticable, not being able to counterfeit pleasure, or to\ndischarge discontent, nothing being sincere or right, or balanced in\ntheir minds, it is more than a chance, that, in the delirium of the\nlast stage of their distempered power, they make an insane political\ntestament, by which they throw all their remaining weight and\nconsequence into the scale of their declared enemies, and the avowed\nauthors of their destruction.\n\n\n\n\nINJUSTICE TO OUR OWN AGE.\n\nIf these evil dispositions should spread much farther they must end in\nour destruction; for nothing can save a people destitute of public and\nprivate faith. However, the author, for the present state of things, has\nextended the charge by much too widely; as men are but too apt to take\nthe measure of all mankind from their own particular acquaintance.\nBarren as this age may be in the growth of honour and virtue, the\ncountry does not want, at this moment, as strong, and those not a few,\nexamples as were ever known, of an unshaken adherence to principle, and\nattachment to connexion, against every allurement of interest. Those\nexamples are not furnished by the great alone; nor by those, whose\nactivity in public affairs may render it suspected that they make such a\ncharacter one of the rounds in their ladder of ambition; but by men more\nquiet, and more in the shade, on whom an unmixed sense of honour alone\ncould operate.\n\n\n\n\nFALSE COALITIONS.\n\nNo system of that kind can be formed, which will not leave room fully\nsufficient for healing coalitions: but no coalition which, under the\nspecious name of independency, carries in its bosom the unreconciled\nprinciples of the original discord of parties, ever was, or will be, an\nhealing coalition. Nor will the mind of our sovereign ever know repose,\nhis kingdom settlement, or his business order, in efficiency or grace\nwith his people, until things are established upon the basis of some set\nof men, who are trusted by the public, and who can trust one another.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICAL EMPIRICISM.\n\nMen of sense, when new projects come before them, always think a\ndiscourse proving the mere right or mere power of acting in the manner\nproposed, to be no more than a very unpleasant way of mispending time.\nThey must see the object to be of proper magnitude to engage them; they\nmust see the means of compassing it to be next to certain: the mischiefs\nnot to counterbalance the profit; they will examine how a proposed\nimposition or regulation agrees with the opinion of those who are likely\nto be affected by it; they will not despise the consideration even of\ntheir habitudes and prejudices. They wish to know how it accords or\ndisagrees with the true spirit of prior establishments, whether\nof government or of finance; because they well know, that in the\ncomplicated economy of great kingdoms, and immense revenues, which in\na length of time, and by a variety of accidents, have coalesced into\na sort of body, an attempt towards a compulsory equality in all\ncircumstances, and an exact practical definition of the supreme rights\nin every case, is the most dangerous and chimerical of all enterprises.\nThe old building stands well enough, though part Gothic, part Grecian,\nand part Chinese, until an attempt is made to square it into uniformity.\nThen it may come down upon our heads altogether, in much uniformity of\nruin; and great will be the fall thereof.\n\n\n\n\nA VISIONARY.\n\nEnough of this visionary union; in which much extravagance appears\nwithout any fancy, and the judgment is shocked without anything to\nrefresh the imagination. It looks as if the author had dropped down from\nthe moon, without any knowledge of the general nature of this globe, of\nthe general nature of its inhabitants, without the least acquaintance\nwith the affairs of this country.\n\n\n\n\nPARTY DIVISIONS.\n\nParty divisions, whether on the whole operating for good or evil,\nare things inseparable from free government. This is a truth which, I\nbelieve, admits little dispute, having been established by the uniform\nexperience of all ages. The part a good citizen ought to take in these\ndivisions has been a matter of much deeper controversy. But God forbid\nthat any controversy relating to our essential morals should admit of no\ndecision. It appears to me, that this question, like most of the others\nwhich regard our duties in life, is to be determined by our station in\nit. Private men may be wholly neutral, and entirely innocent; but they\nwho are legally invested with public trust, or stand on the high ground\nof rank and dignity, which is trust implied, can hardly in any\ncase remain indifferent, without the certainty of sinking into\ninsignificance; and thereby in effect deserting that post in which,\nwith the fullest authority, and for the wisest purposes, the laws and\ninstitutions of their country have fixed them. However, if it be the\noffice of those who are thus circumstanced, to take a decided part, it\nis no less their duty that it should be a sober one.\n\n\n\n\nDECORUM IN PARTY.\n\nIt ought to be circumscribed by the same laws of decorum, and balanced\nby the same temper, which bound and regulate all the virtues. In a\nword, we ought to act in party with all the moderation which does not\nabsolutely enervate that vigour, and quench that fervency of spirit,\nwithout which the best wishes for the public good must evaporate in\nempty speculation.\n\n\n\n\nNOT SO BAD AS WE SEEM.\n\nOur circumstances are indeed critical; but then they are the critical\ncircumstances of a strong and mighty nation. If corruption and meanness\nare greatly spread, they are not spread universally. Many public men are\nhitherto examples of public spirit and integrity. Whole parties, as far\nas large bodies can be uniform, have preserved character. However they\nmay be deceived in some particulars, I know of no set of men amongst\nus which does not contain persons on whom the nation, in a difficult\nexigence, may well value itself. Private life, which is the nursery of\nthe commonwealth, is yet in general pure, and on the whole disposed to\nvirtue; and the people at large want neither generosity nor spirit.\nNo small part of that very luxury, which is so much the subject of the\nauthor's declamation, but which, in most parts of life, by being well\nbalanced and diffused, is only decency and convenience, has perhaps\nas many or more good than evil consequences attending it. It certainly\nexcites industry, nourishes emulation, and inspires some sense of\npersonal value into all ranks of people. What we want is to establish\nmore fully an opinion of uniformity, and consistency of character, in\nthe leading men of the state; such as will restore some confidence to\nprofession and appearance, such as will fix subordination upon esteem.\nWithout this all schemes are begun at the wrong end.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICS WITHOUT PRINCIPLE.\n\nPeople not very well grounded in the principles of public morality find\na set of maxims in office ready made for them, which they assume as\nnaturally and inevitably, as any of the insignia or instruments of the\nsituation. A certain tone of the solid and practical is immediately\nacquired. Every former profession of public spirit is to be considered\nas a debauch of youth, or, at best, as a visionary scheme of\nunattainable perfection. The very idea of consistency is exploded. The\nconvenience of the business of the day is to furnish the principle for\ndoing it. Then the whole ministerial cant is quickly got by heart.\nThe prevalence of faction is to be lamented. All opposition is to\nbe regarded as the effect of envy and disappointed ambition. All\nadministrations are declared to be alike. The same necessity justifies\nall their measures. It is no longer a matter of discussion, who or what\nadministration is; but that administration is to be supported, is\na general maxim. Flattering themselves that their power is become\nnecessary to the support of all order and government, everything which\ntends to the support of that power is sanctified, and becomes a part of\nthe public interest.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL DEBASEMENT PROGRESSIVE.\n\nI believe the instances are exceedingly rare of men immediately passing\nover a clear, marked line of virtue into declared vice and corruption.\nThere are a sort of middle tints and shades between the two extremes;\nthere is something uncertain on the confines of the two empires\nwhich they first pass through, and which renders the change easy and\nimperceptible. There are even a sort of splendid impositions so well\ncontrived, that, at the very time the path of rectitude is quitted\nfor ever, men seem to be advancing into some higher and nobler road\nof public conduct. Not that such impositions are strong enough in\nthemselves; but a powerful interest, often concealed from those whom it\naffects, works at the bottom, and secures the operation. Men are thus\ndebauched away from those legitimate connexions, which they had formed\non a judgment, early perhaps but sufficiently mature, and wholly\nunbiassed.\n\n\n\n\nDESPOTISM.\n\nIt is the nature of despotism to abhor power held by any means but its\nown momentary pleasure; and to annihilate all intermediate situations\nbetween boundless strength on its own part, and total debility on the\npart of the people.\n\n\n\n\nJUDGMENT AND POLICY.\n\nNothing can render this a point of indifference to the nation, but what\nmust either render us totally desperate, or sooth us into the security\nof idiots. We must soften into a credulity below the milkiness of\ninfancy, to think all men virtuous. We must be tainted with a malignity\ntruly diabolical, to believe all the world to be equally wicked and\ncorrupt. Men are in public as in private, some good, some evil. The\nelevation of the one, and the depression of the other, are the first\nobjects of all true policy. But that form of government, which, neither\nin its direct institutions, nor in their immediate tendency, has\ncontrived to throw its affairs into the most trustworthy hands, but\nhas left its whole executory system to be disposed of agreeably to the\nuncontrolled pleasures of any one man, however excellent or virtuous, is\na plan of polity defective not only in that member, but consequentially\nerroneous in every part of it.\n\n\n\n\nPOPULAR DISCONTENT.\n\nTo complain of the age we live in, to murmur at the present possessors\nof power, to lament the past, to conceive extravagant hopes of the\nfuture, are the common dispositions of the greatest part of mankind;\nindeed, the necessary effects of the ignorance and levity of the vulgar.\nSuch complaints and humours have existed in all times; yet as all\ntimes have NOT been alike, true political sagacity manifests itself\nin distinguishing that complaint which only characterises the general\ninfirmity of human nature, from those which are symptoms of the\nparticular distemperature of our own air and season.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PEOPLE AND THEIR RULERS.\n\nI am not one of those who think that the people are never in the wrong.\nThey have been so, frequently and outrageously, both in other countries\nand in this. But I do say, that in all disputes between them and their\nrulers, the presumption is at least upon a par in favour of the people.\nExperience may perhaps justify me in going farther. When popular\ndiscontents have been very prevalent, it may well be affirmed and\nsupported, that there has been generally something found amiss in\nthe constitution, or in the conduct of government. The people have no\ninterest in disorder. When they do wrong, it is their error, and not\ntheir crime.\n\n\n\n\nGOVERNMENT FAVOURITISM.\n\nIt is this unnatural infusion of a government which in a great part of\nits constitution is popular, that has raised the present ferment in the\nnation. The people, without entering deeply into its principles, could\nplainly perceive its effects, in much violence, in a great spirit of\ninnovation, and a general disorder in all the functions of government.\nI keep my eye solely on this system; if I speak of those measures which\nhave arisen from it, it will be so far only as they illustrate the\ngeneral scheme. This is the fountain of all those bitter waters, of\nwhich, through an hundred different conduits, we have drunk until we are\nready to burst. The discretionary power of the Crown in the formation of\nministry, abused by bad or weak men, has given rise to a system which,\nwithout directly violating the letter of any law, operates against the\nspirit of the whole constitution.\n\nA plan of favouritism for our executory government is essentially at\nvariance with the plan of our legislature. One great end undoubtedly of\na mixed government like ours, composed of monarchy, and of controls, on\nthe part of the higher people and the lower, is that the prince shall\nnot be able to violate the laws. This is useful indeed and fundamental.\nBut this, even at first view, in no more than a negative advantage; an\narmour merely defensive. It is therefore next in order, and equal in\nimportance, THAT THE DISCRETIONARY POWERS WHICH ARE NECESSARILY VESTED\nIN THE MONARCH, WHETHER FOR THE EXECUTION OF THE LAWS, OR FOR THE\nNOMINATION TO MAGISTRACY AND OFFICE, OR FOR CONDUCTING THE AFFAIRS OF\nPEACE AND WAR, OR FOR ORDERING THE REVENUE, SHOULD ALL BE EXERCISED\nUPON PUBLIC PRINCIPLES AND NATIONAL GROUNDS, AND NOT ON THE LIKINGS OR\nPREJUDICES, THE INTRIGUES OR POLICIES, OF A COURT.\n\n\n\n\nADMINISTRATION AND LEGISLATION.\n\nIn arbitrary governments, the constitution of the ministry follows the\nconstitution of the legislature. Both the law and the magistrate are\nthe creatures of will. It must be so. Nothing, indeed, will appear more\ncertain, on any tolerable consideration of this matter, than that EVERY\nSORT OF GOVERNMENT OUGHT TO HAVE ITS ADMINISTRATION CORRESPONDENT TO ITS\nLEGISLATURE. If it should be otherwise, things must fall into a hideous\ndisorder. The people of a free commonwealth, who have taken such care\nthat their laws should be the result of general consent, cannot be so\nsenseless as to suffer their executory system to be composed of persons\non whom they have no dependence, and whom no proofs of the public love\nand confidence have recommended to those powers, upon the use of which\nthe very being of the state depends.\n\n\n\n\nINFLUENCE OF THE CROWN.\n\nThe power of the Crown, almost dead and rotten as Prerogative, has grown\nup anew, with much more strength, and far less odium, under the name\nof Influence. An influence, which operated without noise and without\nviolence; an influence which converted the very antagonist into the\ninstrument of power; which contained in itself a perpetual principle of\ngrowth and renovation; and which the distresses and the prosperity of\nthe country equally tend to augment, was an admirable substitute for a\nprerogative, that, being only the offspring of antiquated prejudices,\nhad moulded into its original stamina irresistible principles of decay\nand dissolution. The ignorance of the people is a bottom but for\na temporary system; the interest of active men in the state is a\nfoundation perpetual and infallible.\n\n\n\n\nVOICE OF THE PEOPLE.\n\nGovernment is deeply interested in everything which, even through the\nmedium of some temporary uneasiness, may tend finally to compose the\nminds of the subjects, and to conciliate their affections. I have\nnothing to do here with the abstract value of the voice of the people.\nBut as long as reputation, the most precious possession of every\nindividual, and as long as opinion, the great support of the state,\ndepend entirely upon that voice, it can never be considered as a thing\nof little consequence either to individuals or to governments. Nations\nare not primarily ruled by laws; less by violence. Whatever original\nenergy may be supposed either in force or regulation, the operation of\nboth is, in truth, merely instrumental. Nations are governed by the\nsame methods, and on the same principles, by which an individual without\nauthority is often able to govern those who are his equals or his\nsuperiors--by a knowledge of their temper, and by a judicious management\nof it; I mean, when public affairs are steadily and quietly conducted;\nand when government is nothing but a continued scuffle between the\nmagistrate and the multitude; in which sometimes the one and sometimes\nthe other is uppermost; in which they alternately yield and prevail,\nin a series of contemptible victories, and scandalous submissions. The\ntemper of the people amongst whom he presides ought therefore to be the\nfirst study of a statesman. And the knowledge of this temper it is by no\nmeans impossible for him to attain, if he has not an interest in being\nignorant of what it is his duty to learn.\n\n\n\n\nFALLACY OF EXTREMES.\n\nIt is a fallacy in constant use with those who would level all things,\nand confound right with wrong, to insist upon the inconveniences which\nare attached to every choice, without taking into consideration the\ndifferent weight and consequence of those inconveniences. The question\nis not concerning ABSOLUTE discontent or PERFECT satisfaction in\ngovernment; neither of which can be pure and unmixed at any time, or\nupon any system. The controversy is about that degree of good humour in\nthe people, which may possibly be attained, and ought certainly to be\nlooked for. While some politicians may be waiting to know whether the\nsense of every individual be against them, accurately distinguishing the\nvulgar from the better sort, drawing lines between the enterprises of\na faction and the efforts of a people, they may chance to see the\ngovernment, which they are so nicely weighing, and dividing, and\ndistinguishing, tumble to the ground in the midst of their wise\ndeliberation. Prudent men, when so great an object as the security of\ngovernment, or even its peace, is at stake, will not run the risk of a\ndecision which may be fatal to it. They who can read the political sky\nwill see a hurricane in a cloud no bigger than a hand at the very edge\nof the horizon, and will run into the first harbour. No lines can be\nlaid down for civil or political wisdom. They are a matter incapable\nof exact definition. But, though no man can draw a stroke between the\nconfines of day and night, yet light and darkness are, upon the whole,\ntolerably distinguishable. Nor will it be impossible for a prince to\nfind out such a mode of government, and such persons to administer\nit, as will give a great degree of content to his people; without any\ncurious and anxious research for that abstract, universal, perfect\nharmony, which, while he is seeking, he abandons those means of ordinary\ntranquillity which are in his power without any research at all.\n\n\n\n\nPRIVATE CHARACTER A BASIS FOR PUBLIC CONFIDENCE.\n\nBefore men are put forward into the great trusts of the state, they\nought, by their conduct, to have obtained such a degree of estimation in\ntheir country, as may be some sort of pledge and security to the public,\nthat they will not abuse those trusts. It is no mean security for a\nproper use of power, that a man has shown by the general tenor of his\nactions, that the affection, the good opinion, the confidence of his\nfellow citizens, have been among the principal objects of his life; and\nthat he has owed none of the degradations of his power or fortune to a\nsettled contempt, or occasional forfeiture of their esteem.\n\nThat man who before he comes into power has no friends, or who coming\ninto power is obliged to desert his friends, or who losing it has no\nfriends to sympathise with him; he who has no sway among any part of the\nlanded or commercial interest, but whose whole importance has begun with\nhis office, and is sure to end with it; is a person who ought never\nto be suffered by a controlling parliament to continue in any of\nthose situations which confer the lead and direction of all our public\naffairs; because such a man HAS NO CONNECTION WITH THE INTEREST OF THE\nPEOPLE. Those knots or cabals of men who have got together avowedly\nwithout any public principle, in order to sell their conjunct iniquity\nat the higher rate, and are therefore universally odious, ought never\nto be suffered to domineer in the state; because they have NO CONNECTION\nWITH THE SENTIMENTS AND OPINIONS OF THE PEOPLE.\n\n\n\n\nPREVENTION.\n\nEvery good political institution must have a preventive operation as\nwell as a remedial. It ought to have a natural tendency to exclude bad\nmen from government, and not to trust for the safety of the state to\nsubsequent punishment alone: punishment, which has ever been tardy and\nuncertain, and which, when power is suffered in bad hands, may chance to\nfall rather on the injured than the criminal.\n\n\n\n\nCONFIDENCE IN THE PEOPLE.\n\nThey may be assured, that however they amuse themselves with a variety\nof projects for substituting something else in the place of that great\nand only foundation of government, the confidence of the people, every\nattempt will but make their condition worse. When men imagine that their\nfood is only a cover for poison, and when they neither love nor trust\nthe hand that serves it, it is not the name of the roast beef of Old\nEngland, that will persuade them to sit down to the table that is spread\nfor them. When the people conceive that laws, and tribunals, and even\npopular assemblies, are perverted from the ends of their institution,\nthey find in those names of degenerated establishments only new motives\nto discontent. Those bodies which, when full of life and beauty, lay in\ntheir arms, and were their joy and comfort, when dead and putrid, become\nbut the more loathsome from remembrance of former endearments. A sullen\ngloom and furious disorder prevail by fits: the nation loses its relish\nfor peace and prosperity; as it did in that season of fulness which\nopened our troubles in the time of Charles the First. A species of\nmen to whom a state of order would become a sentence of obscurity,\nare nourished into a dangerous magnitude by the heat of intestine\ndisturbances; and it is no wonder that, by a sort of sinister piety,\nthey cherish, in their turn, the disorders which are the parents of all\ntheir consequence.\n\n\n\n\nFALSE MAXIMS ASSUMED AS FIRST PRINCIPLES.\n\nIt is an advantage to all narrow wisdom and narrow morals, that their\nmaxims have a plausible air; and, on a cursory view, appear equal to\nfirst principles. They are light and portable. They are as current\nas copper coin; and about as valuable. They serve equally the first\ncapacities and the lowest; and they are, at least, as useful to the\nworst men as to the best. Of this stamp is the cant of NOT MEN, BUT\nMEASURES; a sort of charm by which many people get loose from every\nhonourable engagement. When I see a man acting this desultory and\ndisconnected part, with as much detriment to his own fortune as\nprejudice to the cause of any party, I am not persuaded that he is\nright; but I am ready to believe he is in earnest. I respect virtue in\nall its situations; even when it is found in the unsuitable company of\nweakness. I lament to see qualities rare and valuable, squandered away\nwithout any public utility. But when a gentleman with great visible\nemoluments abandons the party in which he has long acted, and tells you,\nit is because he proceeds upon his own judgment; that he acts on the\nmerits of the several measures as they arise; and that he is obliged\nto follow his own conscience, and not that of others; he gives reasons\nwhich it is impossible to controvert, and discovers a character which it\nis impossible to mistake. What shall we think of him who never differed\nfrom a certain set of men until the moment they lost their power, and\nwho never agreed with them in a single instance afterwards? Would not\nsuch a coincidence of interest and opinion be rather fortunate? Would\nit not be an extraordinary cast upon the dice, that a man's connexions\nshould degenerate into faction, precisely at the critical moment when\nthey lose their power, or he accepts a place? When people desert their\nconnexions, the desertion is a manifest FACT, upon which a direct simple\nissue lies, triable by plain men. Whether a MEASURE of government be\nright or wrong, IS NO MATTER OF FACT, but a mere affair of opinion, on\nwhich men may, as they do, dispute and wrangle without end. But whether\nthe individual THINKS the measure right or wrong, is a point at still a\ngreater distance from the reach of all human decision. It is therefore\nvery convenient to politicians, not to put the judgment of their conduct\non overt acts, cognizable in any ordinary court, but upon such matter\nas can be triable only in that secret tribunal, where they are sure of\nbeing heard with favour, or where at worst the sentence will be only\nprivate whipping.\n\n\n\n\nLORD CHATHAM.\n\nAnother scene was opened, and other actors appeared on the stage. The\nState, in the condition I have described it, was delivered into the\nhands of Lord Chatham--a great and celebrated name; a name that keeps\nthe name of this country respectable in every other on the globe. It may\nbe truly called--\n\n    Clarum et venerabile nomen\n    Gentibus, et multum nostrae quod proderat urbi.\n\nSir, the venerable age of this great man, his merited rank, his superior\neloquence, his splendid qualities, his eminent services, the vast space\nhe fills in the eye of mankind; and, more than all the rest, his\nfall from power, which, like death, canonizes and sanctifies a great\ncharacter, will not suffer me to censure any part of his conduct. I am\nafraid to flatter him; I am sure I am not disposed to blame him. Let\nthose, who have betrayed him by their adulation, insult him with their\nmalevolence. But what I do not presume to censure, I may have leave to\nlament. For a wise man, he seemed to me at that time to be governed too\nmuch by general maxims. I speak with the freedom of history, and I hope\nwithout offence. One or two of these maxims, flowing from an opinion\nnot the most indulgent to our unhappy species, and surely a little too\ngeneral, led him into measures that were greatly mischievous to himself;\nand for that reason, among others, perhaps fatal to his country;\nmeasures, the effects of which, I am afraid, are for ever incurable.\nHe made an administration, so checkered and speckled; he put together\na piece of joinery, so crossly indented and whimsically dove-tailed; a\ncabinet so variously inlaid; such a piece of diversified mosaic; such a\ntesselated pavement without cement; here a bit of black stone, and there\na bit of white; patriots and courtiers, king's friends and republicans;\nWhigs and Tories; treacherous friends and open enemies; that it was\nindeed a very curious show; but utterly unsafe to touch, and unsure to\nstand on. The colleagues whom he had assorted at the same boards, stared\nat each other, and were obliged to ask, \"Sir, your name?--Sir, you\nhave the advantage of me--Mr. Such-a-one--I beg a thousand pardons--\"\nI venture to say, it did so happen, that persons had a single office\ndivided between them, who had never spoken to each other in their lives,\nuntil they found themselves, they knew not how, pigging together, heads\nand points, in the same truckle-bed.\n\nSir, in consequence of this arrangement, having put so much the larger\npart of his enemies and opposers into power, the confusion was such,\nthat his own principles could not possibly have any effect or influence\nin the conduct of affairs. If ever he fell into a fit of the gout, or if\nany other cause withdrew him from public cares, principles directly the\ncontrary were sure to predominate. When he had executed his plan, he had\nnot an inch of ground to stand upon. When he had accomplished his scheme\nof administration, he was no longer a minister. When his face was hid\nbut for a moment, his whole system was on a wide sea, without chart or\ncompass. The gentlemen, his particular friends, who, with the names of\nvarious departments of ministry, were admitted to seem as if they\nacted a part under him, with a modesty that becomes all men, and with a\nconfidence in him, which was justified even in its extravagance by\nhis superior abilities, had never, in any instance, presumed upon any\nopinion of their own. Deprived of his guiding influence, they were\nwhirled about, the sport of every gust, and easily driven into any port;\nand as those who joined with them in manning the vessel were the most\ndirectly opposite to his opinions, measures, and character, and far the\nmost artful and most powerful of the set, they easily prevailed, so as\nto seize upon the vacant, unoccupied, and derelict minds of his friends;\nand instantly they turned the vessel wholly out of the course of his\npolicy. As if it were to insult as well as to betray him, even long\nbefore the close of the first session of his administration, when\neverything was publicly transacted, and with great parade, in his name,\nthey made an act, declaring it highly just and expedient to raise a\nrevenue in America. For even then, Sir, even before this splendid orb\nwas entirely set, and while the western horizon was in a blaze with his\ndescending glory, on the opposite quarter of the heavens arose another\nluminary, and, for his hour, became lord of the ascendant.\n\n\n\n\nGRENVILLE.\n\nMr. Grenville was a first-rate figure in this country. With a masculine\nunderstanding, and a stout and resolute heart, he had an application\nundissipated and unwearied. He took public business not as a duty which\nhe was to fulfil, but as a pleasure he was to enjoy; and he seemed to\nhave no delight out of this house, except in such things as some\nway related to the business that was to be done within it. If he was\nambitious, I will say this for him, his ambition was of a noble and\ngenerous strain. It was to raise himself, not by the low, pimping\npolitics of a court, but to win his way to power, through the laborious\ngradations of public service; and to secure himself a well-earned\nrank in Parliament, by a thorough knowledge of its constitution, and a\nperfect practice in all its business.\n\nSir, if such a man fell into errors, it must be from defects not\nintrinsical; they must be rather sought in the particular habits of his\nlife; which though they do not alter the ground-work of character, yet\ntinge it with their own hue. He was bred in a profession. He was bred to\nthe law, which is, in my opinion, one of the first and noblest of\nhuman sciences; a science which does more to quicken and invigorate the\nunderstanding, than all the other kinds of learning put together; but\nit is not apt, except in persons very happily born, to open and to\nliberalize the mind exactly in the same proportion. Passing from that\nstudy he did not go very largely into the world; but plunged into\nbusiness; I mean into the business of office; and the limited and\nfixed methods and forms established there. Much knowledge is to be\nhad undoubtedly in that line; and there is no knowledge which is not\nvaluable. But it may be truly said, that men too much conversant in\noffice are rarely minds of remarkable enlargement. Their habits of\noffice are apt to give them a turn to think the substance of business\nnot to be much more important than the forms in which it is conducted.\nThese forms are adapted to ordinary occasions; and therefore persons\nwho are nurtured in office do admirably well as long as things go on\nin their common order; but when the high roads are broken up, and\nthe waters out, when a new and troubled scene is opened, and the file\naffords no precedent, then it is that a greater knowledge of mankind,\nand a far more extensive comprehension of things, is requisite, than\never office gave, or than office can ever give.\n\n\n\n\nCHARLES TOWNSHEND.\n\nThis light too is passed and set for ever. You understand, to be sure,\nthat I speak of Charles Townshend, officially the reproducer of this\nfatal scheme; whom I cannot even now remember without some degree of\nsensibility. In truth, Sir, he was the delight and ornament of this\nhouse, and the charm of every private society which he honoured with his\npresence. Perhaps there never arose in this country, nor in any country,\na man of a more pointed and finished wit; and (where his passions were\nnot concerned) of a more refined, exquisite, and penetrating judgment.\nIf he had not so great a stock, as some have had who flourished\nformerly, of knowledge long treasured up, he knew better by far, than\nany man I ever was acquainted with, how to bring together within a\nshort time, all that was necessary to establish, to illustrate, and to\ndecorate that side of the question he supported. He stated his matter\nskilfully and powerfully. He particularly excelled in a most luminous\nexplanation and display of his subject. His style of argument was\nneither trite and vulgar, nor subtle and abstruse. He hit the house just\nbetween wind and water. And not being troubled with too anxious a zeal\nfor any matter in question, he was never more tedious, or more earnest,\nthan the pre-conceived opinions and present temper of his hearers\nrequired; to whom he was always in perfect unison. He conformed exactly\nto the temper of the house; and he seemed to guide, because he was\nalways sure to follow it.\n\n\n\n\nPARTY AND PLACE.\n\nParty is a body of men united, for promoting by their joint endeavours\nthe national interest, upon some particular principle in which they are\nall agreed. For my part, I find it impossible to conceive that any one\nbelieves in his own politics, or thinks them to be of any weight, who\nrefuses to adopt the means of having them reduced into practice. It is\nthe business of the speculative philosopher to mark the proper ends of\ngovernment. It is the business of the politician, who is the philosopher\nin action, to find out proper means towards those ends, and to employ\nthem with effect. Therefore every honourable connection will avow it is\ntheir first purpose to pursue every just method to put the men who hold\ntheir opinions into such a condition as may enable them to carry their\ncommon plans into execution, with all the power and authority of the\nstate. As this power is attached to certain situations, it is their duty\nto contend for these situations. Without a proscription of others, they\nare bound to give to their own party the preference in all things; and\nby no means, for private considerations, to accept any offers of power\nin which the whole body is not included; nor to suffer themselves to\nbe led, or to be controlled, or to be overbalanced, in office or in\ncouncil, by those who contradict the very fundamental principles on\nwhich their party is formed, and even those upon which every fair\nconnection must stand. Such a generous contention for power, on such\nmanly and honourable maxims, will easily be distinguished from the mean\nand interested struggle for place and emolument. The very style of such\npersons will serve to discriminate them from those numberless imposters\nwho have deluded the ignorant with professions incompatible with human\npractice, and have afterwards incensed them by practices below the level\nof vulgar rectitude.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICAL CONNECTIONS.\n\nEvery profession, not excepting the glorious one of a soldier, or the\nsacred one of a priest, is liable to its own particular vices, which,\nhowever, form no argument against those ways of life; nor are the vices\nthemselves inevitable to every individual in those professions. Of such\na nature are connections in politics; essentially necessary for the full\nperformance of our public duty, accidentally liable to degenerate into\nfaction. Commonwealths are made of families, free commonwealths of\nparties also; and we may as well affirm, that our natural regards and\nties of blood tend inevitably to make men bad citizens, as that the\nbonds of our party weaken those by which we are held to our country.\n\nSome legislators went so far as to make neutrality in party a crime\nagainst the state. I do not know whether this might not have been rather\nto overstrain the principle. Certain it is, the best patriots in\nthe greatest commonwealths have always commended and promoted such\nconnections. Idem sentire de republica, was with them a principal ground\nof friendship and attachment; nor do I know any other capable of forming\nfirmer, dearer, more pleasing, more honourable, and more virtuous\nhabitudes. The Romans carried this principle a great way. Even the\nholding of offices together, the disposition of which arose from chance,\nnot selection, gave rise to a relation which continued for life. It\nwas called necessitudo sortis; and it was looked upon with a sacred\nreverence. Breaches of any of these kinds of civil relation were\nconsidered as acts of the most distinguished turpitude. The whole people\nwas distributed into political societies, in which they acted in support\nof such interests in the state as they severally affected. For it was\nthen thought no crime to endeavour, by every honest means, to advance\nto superiority and power those of your own sentiments and opinions. This\nwise people was far from imagining that those connections had no tie,\nand obliged to no duty; but that men might quit them without shame, upon\nevery call of interest. They believed private honour to be the great\nfoundation of public trust; that friendship was no mean step towards\npatriotism; that he who, in the common intercourse of life, showed\nhe regarded somebody besides himself, when he came to act in a public\nsituation, might probably consult some other interest than his own.\n\n\n\n\nNEUTRALITY.\n\nThey were a race of men (I hope in God the species is extinct) who, when\nthey rose in their place, no man living could divine, from any known\nadherence to parties, to opinions, or to principles, from any order\nor system in their politics, or from any sequel or connection in\ntheir ideas, what part they were going to take in any debate. It is\nastonishing how much this uncertainty, especially at critical times,\ncalled the attention of all parties on such men. All eyes were fixed\non them, all ears open to hear them; each party gaped, and looked\nalternately for their vote, almost to the end of their speeches. While\nthe house hung on this uncertainty, now the HEAR HIMS rose from this\nside--now they rebellowed from the other; and that party, to whom they\nfell at length from their tremulous and dancing balance, always received\nthem in a tempest of applause. The fortune of such men was a temptation\ntoo great to be resisted by one to whom a single whiff of incense\nwithheld gave much greater pain than he received delight in the clouds\nof it which daily rose about him from the prodigal superstition of\ninnumerable admirers. He was a candidate for contradictory honours; and\nhis great aim was to make those agree in admiration of him who never\nagreed in anything else.\n\n\n\n\nWEAKNESS IN GOVERNMENT.\n\nLet us learn from our experience. It is not support that is wanting to\ngovernment, but reformation. When ministry rests upon public opinion,\nit is not indeed built upon a rock of adamant; it has, however, some\nstability. But when it stands upon private humour, its structure is of\nstubble, and its foundation is on quicksand. I repeat it again--He that\nsupports every administration subverts all government. The reason is\nthis: The whole business in which a court usually takes an interest goes\non at present equally well, in whatever hands, whether high or low, wise\nor foolish, scandalous or reputable; there is nothing, therefore, to\nhold it firm to any one body of men, or to any one consistent scheme of\npolitics. Nothing interposes to prevent the full operation of all\nthe caprices and all the passions of a court upon the servants of the\npublic. The system of administration is open to continual shocks\nand changes, upon the principles of the meanest cabal, and the most\ncontemptible intrigue. Nothing can be solid and permanent. All good men\nat length fly with horror from such a service. Men of rank and ability,\nwith the spirit which ought to animate such men in a free state, while\nthey decline the jurisdiction of dark cabal on their actions and their\nfortunes, will, for both, cheerfully put themselves upon their country.\nThey will trust an inquisitive and distinguishing parliament; because it\ndoes inquire, and does distinguish. If they act well, they know that, in\nsuch a parliament, they will be supported against any intrigue; if they\nact ill, they know that no intrigue can protect them. This situation,\nhowever awful, is honourable. But in one hour, and in the self-same\nassembly, without any assigned or assignable cause, to be precipitated\nfrom the highest authority to the most marked neglect, possibly into the\ngreatest peril of life and reputation, is a situation full of danger,\nand destitute of honour. It will be shunned equally by every man of\nprudence, and every man of spirit.\n\n\n\n\nAMERICAN PROGRESS.\n\nNothing in the history of mankind is like their progress. For my part,\nI never cast an eye on their flourishing commerce, and their cultivated\nand commodious life, but they seem to me rather ancient nations grown\nto perfection through a long series of fortunate events, and a train\nof successful industry, accumulating wealth in many centuries, than the\ncolonies of yesterday; than a set of miserable outcasts, a few years\nago, not so much sent as thrown out, on the bleak and barren shore of\na desolate wilderness, three thousand miles from all civilized\nintercourse.\n\n\n\n\nCOMBINATION, NOT FACTION.\n\nThat connection and faction are equivalent terms, is an opinion\nwhich has been carefully inculcated at all times by unconstitutional\nstatesmen. The reason is evident. Whilst men are linked together, they\neasily and speedily communicate the alarm of any evil design. They are\nenabled to fathom it with common counsel, and to oppose it with united\nstrength. Whereas, when they lie dispersed, without concert, order,\nor discipline, communication is uncertain, counsel difficult, and\nresistance impracticable. Where men are not acquainted with each\nother's principles, nor experienced in each other's talents, nor at all\npractised in their mutual habitudes and dispositions by joint efforts\nin business; no personal confidence, no friendship, no common interest,\nsubsisting among them; it is evidently impossible that they can act a\npublic part with uniformity, perseverance, or efficacy. In a connection,\nthe most inconsiderable man, by adding to the weight of the whole,\nhas his value, and his use; out of it, the greatest talents are wholly\nunserviceable to the public. No man, who is not inflamed by vain-glory\ninto enthusiasm, can flatter himself that his single, unsupported,\ndesultory, unsystematic endeavours, are of power to defeat the subtle\ndesigns and united cabals of ambitious citizens. When bad men combine,\nthe good must associate; else they will fall, one by one, an unpitied\nsacrifice in a contemptible struggle.\n\n\n\n\nGREAT MEN.\n\nGreat men are the guide-posts and land-marks in the state. The credit of\nsuch men at court, or in the nation, is the sole cause of all the public\nmeasures. It would be an invidious thing (most foreign, I trust, to what\nyou think my disposition) to remark the errors into which the authority\nof great names has brought the nation, without doing justice at the same\ntime to the great qualities whence that authority arose. The subject\nis instructive to those who wish to form themselves on whatever of\nexcellence has gone before them. There are many young members in the\nhouse (such of late has been the rapid succession of public men) who\nnever saw that prodigy, Charles Townshend; nor of course know what a\nferment he was able to excite in everything by the violent ebullition of\nhis mixed virtues and failings. For failings he had undoubtedly--many of\nus remember them; we are this day considering the effect of them. But\nhe had no failings which were not owing to a noble cause; to an ardent,\ngenerous, perhaps an immoderate, passion for fame; a passion which is\nthe instinct of all great souls.\n\n\n\n\nPOWER OF CONSTITUENTS.\n\nThe power of the people, within the laws, must show itself sufficient to\nprotect every representative in the animated performance of his duty,\nor that duty cannot be performed. The House of Commons can never be\na control on other parts of government, unless they are controlled\nthemselves by their constituents; and unless these constituents possess\nsome right in the choice of that house, which it is not in the power\nof that house to take away. If they suffer this power of arbitrary\nincapacitation to stand, they have utterly perverted every other power\nof the House of Commons. The late proceeding I will not say IS contrary\nto law, it MUST be so; for the power which is claimed cannot, by any\npossibility, be a legal power in any limited member of government.\n\n\n\n\nINFLUENCE OF PLACE IN GOVERNMENT.\n\nIt is no inconsiderable part of wisdom, to know how much of an\nevil ought to be tolerated; lest, by attempting a degree of purity\nimpracticable in degenerate times and manners, instead of cutting off\nthe subsisting ill practices, new corruptions might be produced for the\nconcealment and security of the old. It were better, undoubtedly, that\nno influence at all could affect the mind of a member of Parliament. But\nof all modes of influence, in my opinion, a place under the government\nis the least disgraceful to the man who holds it, and by far the most\nsafe to the country. I would not shut out that sort of influence which\nis open and visible, which is connected with the dignity and the service\nof the state, when it is not in my power to prevent the influence of\ncontracts, of subscriptions, of direct bribery, and those innumerable\nmethods of clandestine corruption, which are abundantly in the hands\nof the court, and which will be applied as long as these means of\ncorruption, and the disposition to be corrupted, have existence among\nus. Our constitution stands on a nice equipoise, with steep precipices\nand deep waters upon all sides of it. In removing it from a dangerous\nleaning towards one side, there may be a risk of oversetting it on the\nother. Every project of a material change in a government so complicated\nas ours, combined at the same time with external circumstances,\nstill more complicated, is a matter full of difficulties: in which a\nconsiderate man will not be too ready to decide; a prudent man too ready\nto undertake; or an honest man too ready to promise. They do not respect\nthe public nor themselves, who engage for more than they are sure that\nthey ought to attempt, or that they are able to perform.\n\n\n\n\nTAXATION INVOLVES PRINCIPLE.\n\nNo man ever doubted that the commodity of tea could bear an imposition\nof threepence. But no commodity will bear threepence, or will bear a\npenny, when the general feelings of men are irritated, and two millions\nof people are resolved not to pay. The feelings of the colonies were\nformerly the feelings of Great Britain. Theirs were formerly the\nfeelings of Mr. Hampden when called upon for the payment of twenty\nshillings. Would twenty shillings have ruined Mr. Hampden's fortune?\nNo! but the payment of half twenty shillings, on the principle it was\ndemanded, would have made him a slave.\n\n\n\n\nGOOD MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT.\n\nTo be a good member of parliament is, let me tell you, no easy task;\nespecially at this time, when there is so strong a disposition to run\ninto the perilous extremes of servile compliance or wild popularity.\nTo unite circumspection with vigour is absolutely necessary; but it is\nextremely difficult. We are now members for a rich commercial CITY; this\ncity, however, is but a part of a rich commercial NATION, the interests\nof which are various, multiform, and intricate. We are members for\nthat great nation, which however is itself but part of a great EMPIRE,\nextended by our virtue and our fortune to the farthest limits of\nthe east and of the west. All these wide-spread interests must be\nconsidered; must be compared; must be reconciled, if possible. We are\nmembers for a FREE country; and surely we all know, that the machine of\na free constitution is no simple thing; but as intricate and as delicate\nas it is valuable. We are members in a great and ancient MONARCHY; and\nwe must preserve religiously the true legal rights of the sovereign,\nwhich form the key-stone that binds together the noble and\nwell-constructed arch of our empire and our constitution.\n\n\n\n\nFISHERIES OF NEW ENGLAND.\n\nAs to the wealth which the colonies have drawn from the sea by their\nfisheries, you had all that matter fully opened at your bar. You surely\nthought those acquisitions of value, for they seemed even to excite your\nenvy; and yet the spirit by which that enterprising employment has been\nexercised ought rather, in my opinion, to have raised your esteem and\nadmiration. And pray, Sir, what in the world is equal to it! Pass by the\nother parts, and look at the manner in which the people of New England\nhave of late carried on the whale fishery. Whilst we follow them among\nthe tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the\ndeepest frozen recesses of Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits, whilst we\nare looking for them beneath the arctic circle, we hear that they have\npierced into the opposite region of polar cold, that they are at the\nantipodes, and engaged under the frozen serpent of the south. Falkland\nIsland, which seemed too remote and romantic an object for the grasp of\nnational ambition, is but a stage and resting-place in the progress of\ntheir victorious industry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more discouraging\nto them, than the accumulated winter of both the poles. We know that\nwhilst some of them draw the line and strike the harpoon on the coast of\nAfrica, others run the longitude, and pursue their gigantic game along\nthe coast of Brazil. No sea but what is vexed by their fisheries. No\nclimate that is not witness to their toils. Neither the perseverance of\nHolland, nor the activity of France, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity\nof English enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hard\nindustry to the extent to which it has been pushed by this recent\npeople; a people who are still, as it were, but in the gristle, and not\nyet hardened into the bone of manhood.\n\n\n\n\nPREPARATION FOR PARLIAMENT.\n\nWhen I first devoted myself to the public service, I considered how\nI should render myself fit for it; and this I did by endeavouring to\ndiscover what it was that gave this country the rank it holds in the\nworld. I found that our prosperity and dignity arose principally, if not\nsolely, from two sources;--our constitution and commerce. Both these I\nhave spared no study to understand, and no endeavour to support.\n\nThe distinguishing part of our constitution is its liberty. To preserve\nthat liberty inviolate, seems the particular duty and proper trust of\na member of the House of Commons. But the liberty, the only liberty I\nmean, is a liberty connected with order; that not only exists along with\norder and virtue, but which cannot exist at all without them. It inheres\nin good and steady government, as in its substance and vital principle.\n\nThe other source of our power is commerce, of which you are so large\na part, and which cannot exist, no more than your liberty, without a\nconnection with many virtues. It has ever been a very particular and\na very favourite object of my study, in its principles, and in its\ndetails. I think many here are acquainted with the truth of what I say.\nThis I know, that I have ever had my house open, and my poor services\nready, for traders and manufacturers of every denomination. My favourite\nambition is to have those services acknowledged. I now appear before\nyou to make trial, whether my earnest endeavours have been so\nwholly oppressed by the weakness of my abilities as to be rendered\ninsignificant in the eyes of a great trading city; or whether you\nchoose to give a weight to humble abilities, for the sake of the honest\nexertions with which they are accompanied. This is my trial to-day.\nMy industry is not on trial. Of my industry I am sure, as far as my\nconstitution of mind and body admitted.\n\n\n\n\nBATHURST AND AMERICA'S FUTURE.\n\nLet us, however, before with descend from this noble eminence, reflect\nthat this growth of our national prosperity has happened within the\nshort period of the life of man. It has happened within sixty-eight\nyears. There are those alive whose memory might touch the two\nextremities. For instance, my Lord Bathurst might remember all the\nstages of the progress. He was, in 1704, of an age at least to be made\nto comprehend such things. He was then old enough \"acta parentum jam\nlegere, et quae sit poterit cognoscere virtus.\" Suppose, Sir, that the\nangel of this auspicious youth, foreseeing the many virtues which made\nhim one of the most amiable, as he is one of the most fortunate, men\nof his age, had opened to him in vision, that when, in the fourth\ngeneration, the third prince of the house of Brunswick had sat twelve\nyears on the throne of that nation, which (by the happy issue of\nmoderate and healing councils) was to be made Great Britain, he should\nsee his son, lord chancellor of England, turn back the current of\nhereditary dignity to its fountain, and raise him to a higher rank of\npeerage, whilst he enriched the family with a new one. If amidst these\nbright and happy scenes of domestic honour and prosperity, that angel\nshould have drawn up the curtain, and unfolded the rising glories of his\ncountry, and whilst he was gazing with admiration on the then commercial\ngrandeur of England, the genius should point out to him a little speck,\nscarce visible in the mass of the national interest, a small seminal\nprinciple, rather than a formed body, and should tell him--\"Young man,\nthere is America--which at this day serves for little more than to amuse\nyou with stories of savage men, and uncouth manners; yet shall, before\nyou taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce\nwhich now attracts the envy of the world. Whatever England has been\ngrowing to by a progressive increase of improvement, brought in\nby varieties of people, by succession of civilizing conquests and\ncivilizing settlements in a series of seventeen hundred years, you shall\nsee as much added to her by America in the course of a single life!\" If\nthis state of his country had been foretold to him, would it not\nrequire all the sanguine credulity of youth, and all the fervid glow of\nenthusiasm, to make him believe it? Fortunate man, he has lived to see\nit! Fortunate, indeed, if he lives to see nothing that shall vary the\nprospect, and cloud the setting of his day!\n\n\n\n\nCANDID POLICY.\n\nRefined policy ever has been the parent of confusion; and ever will\nbe so, as long as the world endures. Plain good intention, which is\nas easily discovered at the first view, as fraud is surely detected at\nlast, is, let me say, of no mean force in the government of mankind.\nGenuine simplicity of heart is a healing and cementing principle. My\nplan, therefore, being formed upon the most simple grounds imaginable,\nmay disappoint some people, when they hear it. It has nothing to\nrecommend it to the pruriency of curious ears. There is nothing at\nall new and captivating in it. It has nothing of the splendour of the\nproject which has been lately laid upon your table by the noble lord in\nthe blue riband. It does not propose to fill your lobby with squabbling\ncolony agents, who will require the interposition of your mace, at\nevery instant, to keep the peace amongst them. It does not institute\na magnificent auction of finance, where captivated provinces come to\ngeneral ransom by bidding against each other, until you knock down the\nhammer, and determine a proportion of payments beyond all the powers of\nalgebra to equalize and settle.\n\n\n\n\nWISDOM OF CONCESSION.\n\nPeace implies reconciliation; and where there has been a material\ndispute, reconciliation does in a manner always imply concession on the\none part or the other. In this state of things I make no difficulty\nin affirming that the proposal ought to originate from us. Great and\nacknowledged force is not impaired, either in effect or in opinion, by\nan unwillingness to exert itself. The superior power may offer peace\nwith honour and with safety. Such an offer from such a power will be\nattributed to magnanimity. But the concessions of the weak are the\nconcessions of fear. When such a one is disarmed, he is wholly at the\nmercy of his superior; and he loses for ever that time and those chances\nwhich, as they happen to all men, are the strength and resources of all\ninferior power.\n\n\n\n\nMAGNANIMITY.\n\nAs for the trifling petulance which the rage of party stirs up in little\nminds, though it should show itself even in this court, it has not made\nthe slightest impression on me. The highest flight of such clamorous\nbirds is winged in an inferior region of the air. We hear them, and we\nlook upon them, just as you, gentlemen, when you enjoy the serene air\non your lofty rocks, look down upon the gulls that skim the mud of your\nriver, when it is exhausted of its tide.\n\n\n\n\nDUTY OF REPRESENTATIVES.\n\nIt ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative to live in\nthe strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved\ncommunication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great\nweight with him; their opinion high respect; their business unremitted\nattention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his\nsatisfactions, to theirs; and above all, ever, and in all cases, to\nprefer their interest to his own. But, his unbiassed opinion, his mature\njudgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you,\nto any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from\nyour pleasure; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a\ntrust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable.\nYour representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment;\nand he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your\nopinion.\n\n\n\n\nPRUDENTIAL SILENCE.\n\nThough I gave so far into his opinion, that I immediately threw my\nthoughts into a sort of parliamentary form, I was by no means equally\nready to produce them. It generally argues some degree of natural\nimpotence of mind, or some want of knowledge of the world, to hazard\nplans of government except from a seat of authority. Propositions are\nmade, not only ineffectually, but somewhat disreputably, when the minds\nof men are not properly disposed for their reception: and for my part, I\nam not ambitious of ridicule; not absolutely a candidate for disgrace.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONIAL TIES.\n\nThey are \"our children;\" but when children ask for bread, we are not to\ngive a stone. Is it because the natural resistance of things, and the\nvarious mutations of time, hinders our government, or any scheme of\ngovernment, from being any more than a sort of approximation to\nthe right, is it therefore that the colonies are to recede from it\ninfinitely? When this child of ours wishes to assimilate to its parent,\nand to reflect with a true filial resemblance the beauteous countenance\nof British liberty, are we to turn to them the shameful parts of our\nconstitution? are we to give them our weakness for their strength? our\nopprobrium for their glory? and the slough of slavery, which we are not\nable to work off, to serve them for their freedom?\n\n\n\n\nGOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION.\n\nIf government were a matter of will upon any side, yours, without\nquestion, ought to be superior. But government and legislation are\nmatters of reason and judgment, and not of inclination; and what sort of\nreason is that, in which the determination precedes the discussion; in\nwhich one set of men deliberate, and another decide; and where those who\nform the conclusion are perhaps three hundred miles distant from those\nwho hear the arguments?\n\n\n\n\nPARLIAMENT.\n\nParliament is not a CONGRESS of ambassadors from different and hostile\ninterests, which interests each must maintain, as an agent and advocate,\nagainst other agents and advocates; but parliament is a DELIBERATIVE\nassembly of ONE nation, with ONE interest, that of the whole; where, not\nlocal purposes, not local prejudices, ought to guide, but the general\ngood, resulting from the general reason of the whole. You choose\na member indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not member of\nBristol, but he is a member of PARLIAMENT.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL LEVELLERS.\n\nThis moral levelling is a SERVILE PRINCIPLE. It leads to practical\npassive obedience far better than all the doctrines which the pliant\naccommodation of theology to power has ever produced. It cuts up by\nthe roots, not only all idea of forcible resistance, but even of civil\nopposition. It disposes men to an abject submission, not by opinion,\nwhich may be shaken by argument or altered by passion, but by the strong\nties of public and private interest. For if all men who act in a public\nsituation are equally selfish, corrupt, and venal, what reason can be\ngiven for desiring any sort of change, which, besides the evils which\nmust attend all changes, can be productive of no possible advantage?\nThe active men in the state are true samples of the mass. If they are\nuniversally depraved, the commonwealth itself is not sound. We may amuse\nourselves with talking as much as we please of the virtue of middle or\nhumble life; that is, we may place our confidence in the virtue of\nthose who have never been tried. But if the persons who are continually\nemerging out of that sphere be no better than those whom birth has\nplaced above it, what hopes are there in the remainder of the body,\nwhich is to furnish the perpetual succession of the state? All who have\never written on government are unanimous, that among a people generally\ncorrupt, liberty cannot long exist. And indeed how is it possible? when\nthose who are to make the laws, to guard, to enforce, or to obey them,\nare, by a tacit confederacy of manners, indisposed to the spirit of all\ngenerous and noble institutions.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLIC SALARY AND PATRIOTIC SERVICE.\n\nI am not possessed of an exact common measure between real service and\nits reward. I am very sure that states do sometimes receive services\nwhich it is hardly in their power to reward according to their worth. If\nI were to give my judgment with regard to this country, I do not think\nthe great efficient offices of the state to be overpaid. The service of\nthe public is a thing which cannot be put to auction, and struck down\nto those who will agree to execute it the cheapest. When the proportion\nbetween reward and service is our object, we must always consider of\nwhat nature the service is, and what sort of men they are that must\nperform it. What is just payment for one kind of labour, and full\nencouragement for one kind of talents, is fraud and discouragement to\nothers. Many of the great offices have much duty to do, and much expense\nof representation to maintain. A secretary of state, for instance, must\nnot appear sordid in the eyes of the ministers of other nations; neither\nought our ministers abroad to appear contemptible in the courts where\nthey reside. In all offices of duty, there is, almost necessarily,\na great neglect of all domestic affairs. A person in high office can\nrarely take a view of his family house. If he sees that the state takes\nno detriment, the state must see that his affairs should take as little.\nI will even go so far as to affirm, that if men were willing to serve in\nsuch situations without salary, they ought not to be permitted to do it.\nOrdinary service must be secured by the motives to ordinary integrity.\nI do not hesitate to say, that that state which lays its foundations in\nrare and heroic virtues, will be sure to have its superstructure in the\nbasest profligacy and corruption. An honourable and fair profit is the\nbest security against avarice and rapacity; as in all things else, a\nlawful and regulated enjoyment is the best security against debauchery\nand excess. For as wealth is power, so all power will infallibly draw\nwealth to itself by some means or other: and when men are left no way of\nascertaining their profits but by their means of obtaining them, those\nmeans will be increased to infinity. This is true in all the parts\nof administration, as well as in the whole. If any individual were\nto decline his appointments, it might give an unfair advantage to\nostentatious ambition over unpretending service; it might breed\ninvidious comparisons; it might tend to destroy whatever little unity\nand agreement may be found among ministers. And, after all, when an\nambitious man had run down his competitors by a fallacious show of\ndisinterestedness, and fixed himself in power by that means, what\nsecurity is there that he would not change his course, and claim as an\nindemnity ten times more than he has given up?\n\n\n\n\nRATIONAL LIBERTY.\n\nLiberty, too, must be limited in order to be possessed. The degree of\nrestraint it is impossible in any case to settle precisely. But it\nought to be the constant aim of every wise public council to find out\nby cautious experiments, and rational, cool endeavours, with how little,\nnot how much, of this restraint the community can subsist. For liberty\nis a good to be improved, and not an evil to be lessened. It is not only\na private blessing of the first order, but the vital spring and energy\nof the state itself, which has just so much life and vigour as there is\nliberty in it. But whether liberty be advantageous or not (for I know it\nis a fashion to decry the very principle), none will dispute that\npeace is a blessing; and peace must in the course of human affairs be\nfrequently bought by some indulgence and toleration at least to liberty.\nFor as the sabbath (though of Divine institution) was made for man, not\nman for the sabbath, government, which can claim no higher origin or\nauthority, in its exercise at least, ought to conform to the exigencies\nof the time, and the temper and character of the people with whom it\nis concerned; and not always to attempt violently to bend the people to\ntheir theories of subjection. The bulk of mankind on their part are\nnot excessively curious concerning any theories whilst they are really\nhappy; and one sure symptom of an ill-conducted state is the propensity\nof the people to resort to them.\n\n\n\n\nIRELAND AND MAGNA CHARTA.\n\nThe feudal baronage and the feudal knighthood, the roots of our\nprimitive constitution, were early transplanted into that soil, and grew\nand flourished there. Magna Charta, if it did not give us originally\nthe House of Commons, gave us at least a house of commons of weight and\nconsequence. But your ancestors did not churlishly sit down alone to\nthe feast of Magna Charta. Ireland was made immediately a partaker.\nThis benefit of English laws and liberties, I confess, was not at first\nextended to ALL Ireland. Mark the consequence. English authority and\nEnglish liberty had exactly the same boundaries. Your standard could\nnever be advanced an inch beyond your privileges. Sir John Davis shows,\nbeyond a doubt, that the refusal of a general communication of these\nrights was the true cause why Ireland was five hundred years in\nsubduing; and after the vain projects of a military government,\nattempted in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, it was soon discovered that\nnothing could make that country English, in civility and allegiance, but\nyour laws and your forms of legislature. It was not English arms, but\nthe English constitution, that conquered Ireland. From that time\nIreland has ever had a general parliament, as she had before a partial\nparliament. You changed the people; you altered the religion; but you\nnever touched the form or the vital substance of free government in\nthat kingdom. You deposed kings; you restored them; you altered the\nsuccession to theirs, as well as to your own crown; but you never\naltered their constitution; the principle of which was respected by\nusurpation; restored with the restoration of monarchy, and established,\nI trust, for ever, by the glorious Revolution.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONIES AND BRITISH CONSTITUTION.\n\nFor that service, for all service, whether of revenue, trade, or empire,\nmy trust is in her interest in the British constitution. My hold of the\ncolonies is in the close affection which grows from common names, from\nkindred blood, from similar privileges, and equal protection. These are\nties, which, though light as air, are as strong as links of iron. Let\nthe colonies always keep the idea of their civil rights associated with\nyour government;--they will cling and grapple to you; and no force under\nheaven will be of power to tear them from their allegiance. But let\nit be once understood that your government may be one thing, and their\nprivileges another; that these two things may exist without any mutual\nrelation; the cement is gone; the cohesion is loosened; and everything\nhastens to decay and dissolution. As long as you have the wisdom to keep\nthe sovereign authority of this country as the sanctuary of liberty, the\nsacred temple consecrated to our common faith, wherever the chosen race\nand sons of England worship freedom, they will turn their faces towards\nyou. The more they multiply, the more friends you will have; the more\nardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience.\nSlavery they can have anywhere. It is a weed that grows in every soil.\nThey may have it from Spain, they may have it from Prussia. But, until\nyou become lost to all feeling of your true interest and your natural\ndignity, freedom they can have from none but you. This is the commodity\nof price, of which you have the monopoly. This is the true act of\nnavigation, which binds to you the commerce of the colonies, and\nthrough them secures to you the wealth of the world. Deny them this\nparticipation of freedom, and you break that sole bond, which originally\nmade, and must still preserve, the unity of the empire. Do not entertain\nso weak an imagination, as that your registers and your bonds, your\naffidavits and your sufferances, your cockets and your clearances, are\nwhat form the great securities of your commerce. Do not dream that your\nletters of office, and your instructions, and your suspending clauses,\nare the things that hold together the great contexture of this\nmysterious whole. These things do not make your government. Dead\ninstruments, passive tools as they are, it is the spirit of the English\ncommunion that gives all their life and efficacy to them. It is the\nspirit of the English constitution, which, infused through the mighty\nmass, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies every part of the\nempire, even down to the minutest member.\n\n\n\n\nRECIPROCAL CONFIDENCE.\n\nAt the first fatal opening of this contest, the wisest course seemed\nto be to put an end as soon as possible to the immediate causes of\nthe dispute; and to quiet a discussion, not easily settled upon clear\nprinciples, and arising from claims, which pride would permit neither\nparty to abandon, by resorting as nearly as possible to the old,\nsuccessful course. A mere repeal of the obnoxious tax, with a\ndeclaration of the legislative authority of this kingdom, was then fully\nsufficient to procure peace to BOTH SIDES. Man is a creature of habit,\nand, the first breach being of very short continuance, the colonies\nfell back exactly into their ancient state. The congress has used an\nexpression with regard to this pacification, which appears to me truly\nsignificant. After the repeal of the Stamp Act, \"the colonies fell,\"\nsays this assembly, \"into their ancient state of UNSUSPECTING CONFIDENCE\nIN THE MOTHER COUNTRY.\" This unsuspecting confidence is the true centre\nof gravity amongst mankind, about which all the parts are at rest. It\nis this UNSUSPECTING CONFIDENCE that removes all difficulties, and\nreconciles all the contradictions which occur in the complexity of all\nancient, puzzled, political establishments. Happy are the rulers which\nhave the secret of preserving it!\n\n\n\n\nPENSIONS AND THE CROWN.\n\nWhen men receive obligations from the Crown, through the pious hands\nof fathers, or of connections as venerable as the paternal, the\ndependencies which arise from thence are the obligations of gratitude,\nand not the fetters of servility. Such ties originate in virtue, and\nthey promote it. They continue men in those habitudes of friendship,\nthose political connexions, and those political principles, in which\nthey began life. They are antidotes against a corrupt levity, instead\nof causes of it. What an unseemly spectacle would it afford, what a\ndisgrace would it be to the commonwealth that suffered such things, to\nsee the hopeful son of a meritorious minister begging his bread at the\ndoor of that treasury, from whence his father dispensed the economy\nof an empire, and promoted the happiness and glory of his country!\nWhy should he be obliged to prostrate his honour, and to submit his\nprinciples at the levee of some proud favourite, shouldered and thrust\naside by every impudent pretender, on the very spot where a few days\nbefore he saw himself adored?--obliged to cringe to the author of the\ncalamities of his house, and to kiss the hands that are red with his\nfather's blood.\n\n\n\n\nCOLONIAL PROGRESS.\n\nBut nothing in progression can rest on its original plan. We may as well\nthink of rocking a grown man in the cradle of an infant. Therefore as\nthe colonies prospered and increased to a numerous and mighty people,\nspreading over a very great tract of the globe; it was natural that\nthey should attribute to assemblies, so respectable in their formal\nconstitution, some part of the dignity of the great nations which they\nrepresented. No longer tied to by-laws, these assemblies made acts\nof all sorts and in all cases whatsoever. They levied money, not for\nparochial purposes, but upon regular grants to the Crown, following all\nthe rules and principles of a parliament to which they approached\nevery day more and more nearly. Those who think themselves wiser than\nProvidence, and stronger than the course of nature, may complain of all\nthis variation, on the one side or the other, as their several humours\nand prejudices may lead them. But things could not be otherwise; and\nEnglish colonies must be had on these terms, or not had at all.\n\n\n\n\nFEUDAL PRINCIPLES AND MODERN TIMES.\n\nIn the first place, it is formed, in many respects, upon FEUDAL\nPRINCIPLES. In the feudal times, it was not uncommon, even among\nsubjects, for the lowest offices to be held by considerable persons;\npersons as unfit by their incapacity, as improper from their rank, to\noccupy such employments. They were held by patent, sometimes for life,\nand sometimes by inheritance. If my memory does not deceive me, a person\nof no slight consideration held the office of patent hereditary cook to\nan earl of Warwick. The earl of Warwick's soups, I fear, were not\nthe better for the dignity of his kitchen. I think it was an earl\nof Gloucester, who officiated as steward of the household to the\narchbishops of Canterbury. Instances of the same kind may in some degree\nbe found in the Northumberland house-book, and other family records.\nThere was some reason in ancient necessities, for these ancient customs.\nProtection was wanted; and the domestic tie, thought not the highest,\nwas the closest. The king's household has not only several strong traces\nof this FEUDALITY, but it is formed also upon the principles of a BODY\nCORPORATE; it has its own magistrates, courts, and by-laws. This might\nbe necessary in the ancient times, in order to have a government within\nitself, capable of regulating the vast and often unruly multitude which\ncomposed and attended it. This was the origin of the ancient court\ncalled the GREEN CLOTH--composed of the marshal, treasurer, and other\ngreat officers of the household, with certain clerks. The rich subjects\nof the kingdom who had formerly the same establishments (only on a\nreduced scale) have since altered their economy; and turned the course\nof their expense from the maintenance of vast establishments within\ntheir walls, to the employment of a great variety of independent trades\nabroad. Their influence is lessened; but a mode of accommodation, and\na style of splendour, suited to the manners of the times, has been\nincreased. Royalty itself has insensibly followed; and the royal\nhousehold has been carried away by the resistless tide of manners: but\nwith this very material difference;--private men have got rid of\nthe establishments along with the reasons of them; whereas the royal\nhousehold has lost all that was stately and venerable in the antique\nmanners, without retrenching anything of the cumbrous charge of a Gothic\nestablishment. It is shrunk into the polished littleness of modern\nelegance and personal accommodation; it has evaporated from the gross\nconcrete into an essence and rectified spirit of expense, where you have\ntuns of ancient pomp in a vial of modern luxury.\n\n\n\n\nRESTRICTIVE VIRTUES.\n\nI know, that all parsimony is of a quality approaching to unkindness;\nand that (on some person or other) every reform must operate as a sort\nof punishment. Indeed, the whole class of the severe and restrictive\nvirtues are at a market almost too high for humanity. What is worse,\nthere are very few of those virtues which are not capable of being\nimitated, and even outdone, in many of their most striking effects, by\nthe worst of vices. Malignity and envy will carve much more deeply, and\nfinish much more sharply, in the work of retrenchment, than frugality\nand providence. I do not, therefore, wonder that gentlemen have kept\naway from such a task, as well from good-nature as from prudence.\nPrivate feeling might, indeed, be overborne by legislative reason; and a\nman of a longd-sighted and a strong-nerved humanity might bring himself,\nnot so much to consider from whom he takes a superfluous enjoyment, as\nfor whom in the end he may preserve the absolute necessaries of life.\n\n\n\n\nLIBELLERS OF HUMAN NATURE.\n\nI hope there are none of you corrupted with the doctrine taught by\nwicked men for the worst purposes, and received by the malignant\ncredulity of envy and ignorance, which is, that the men who act upon the\npublic stage are all alike; all equally corrupt; all influenced by no\nother views than the sordid lure of salary and pension. The thing I know\nby experience to be false. Never expecting to find perfection in men,\nand not looking for divine attributes in created beings, in my commerce\nwith my contemporaries, I have found much human virtue. I have seen not\na little public spirit; a real subordination of interest to duty; and a\ndecent and regulated sensibility to honest fame and reputation. The age\nunquestionably produces (whether in a greater or less number than former\ntimes, I know not) daring profligates, and insidious hypocrites. What\nthen? Am I not to avail myself of whatever good is to be found in the\nworld, because of the mixture of evil that will always be in it? The\nsmallness of the quantity in currency only heightens the value. They who\nraise suspicions on the good on account of the behaviour of ill men,\nare of the party of the latter. The common cant is no justification\nfor taking this party. I have been deceived, say they, by Titius and\nMaevius; I have been the dupe of this pretender or of that mountebank;\nand I can trust appearances no longer. But my credulity and want of\ndiscernment cannot, as I conceive, amount to a fair presumption against\nany man's integrity. A conscientious person would rather doubt his\nown judgment, than condemn his species. He would say, I have observed\nwithout attention, or judged upon erroneous maxims; I trusted to\nprofession, when I ought to have attended to conduct. Such a man will\ngrow wise, not malignant, by his acquaintance with the world. But he\nthat accuses all mankind of corruption, ought to remember that he is\nsure to convict only one. In truth I should much rather admit those,\nwhom at any time I have disrelished the most, to be patterns of\nperfection, than seek a consolation to my own unworthiness, in a general\ncommunion of depravity with all about me.\n\n\n\n\nREFUSAL A REVENUE.\n\nWhat (says the financier) is peace to us without money? Your plan gives\nus no revenue. No! But it does--for it secures to the subject the power\nof REFUSAL; the first of all revenues. Experience is a cheat, and fact a\nliar, if this power in the subject of proportioning his grant, or of\nnot granting at all, has not been found the richest mine of revenue ever\ndiscovered by the skill or by the fortune of man. It does not indeed\nvote you 152,752 pounds : 11 : 2 3/4ths, nor any other paltry limited\nsum. But it gives the strong box itself, the fund, the bank, from whence\nonly revenues can arise amongst a people sensible of freedom: Posita\nluditur arca. Cannot you in England; cannot you at this time of day;\ncannot you, a House of Commons, trust to the principle which has raised\nso mighty a revenue, and accumulated a debt of near 140 millions in this\ncountry? Is this principle to be true in England, and false everywhere\nelse? Is it not true in Ireland? Has it not hitherto been true in the\ncolonies? Why should you presume, that, in any country, a body duly\nconstituted for any function, will neglect to perform its duty, and\nabdicate its trust? Such a presumption would go against all governments\nin all modes. But, in truth, this dread of penury of supply, from a free\nassembly, has no foundation in nature. For first observe, that besides\nthe desire which all men have naturally of supporting the honour of\ntheir own government, that sense of dignity, and that security to\nproperty, which ever attend freedom, have a tendency to increase\nthe stock of the free community. Most may be taken where most is\naccumulated. And what is the soil or climate where experience has not\nuniformly proved, that the voluntary flow of heaped-up plenty, bursting\nfrom the weight of its own rich luxuriance, has ever run with a more\ncopious stream of revenue, than could be squeezed from the dry husks of\noppressed indigence, by the straining of all the politic machinery in\nthe world.\n\n\n\n\nA PARTY MAN.\n\nThe only method which has ever been found effectual to preserve any man\nagainst the corruption of nature and example, is a habit of life and\ncommunication of counsels with the most virtuous and public-spirited men\nof the age you live in. Such a society cannot be kept without advantage\nor deserted without shame. For this rule of conduct I may be called in\nreproach a PARTY MAN; but I am little affected with such aspersions.\nIn the way which they call party, I worship the constitution of your\nfathers; and I shall never blush for my political company. All reverence\nto honour, all idea of what it is, will be lost out of the world,\nbefore it can be imputed as a fault to any man, that he has been closely\nconnected with those incomparable persons, living and dead, with whom\nfor eleven years I have constantly thought and acted. If I have wandered\nout of the paths of rectitude into those of interested faction, it\nwas in company with the Saviles, the Dowdeswells, the Wentworths,\nthe Bentincks; with the Lenoxes, the Manchesters, the Keppels, the\nSaunderses; with the temperate, permanent, hereditary virtue of the\nwhole house of Cavendish; names, among which, some have extended\nyour fame and empire in arms, and all have fought the battle of your\nliberties in fields not less glorious. These, and many more like these,\ngrafting public principles on private honour, have redeemed the present\nage, and would have adorned the most splendid period in your history.\n\n\n\n\nPATRIOTISM AND PUBLIC INCOME.\n\nIs it not the same virtue which does everything for us here in England?\nDo you imagine, then, that it is the land-tax which raises your revenue?\nthat it is the annual vote in the committee of supply, which gives you\nyour army? or that it is the Mutiny Bill, which inspires it with bravery\nand discipline? No! surely no! It is the love of the people; it is their\nattachment to their government, from the sense of the deep stake they\nhave in such a glorious institution, which gives you your army and your\nnavy, and infuses into both that liberal obedience, without which your\narmy would be a base rabble, and your navy nothing but rotten timber.\n\nAll this, I know well enough, will sound wild and chimerical to the\nprofane herd of those vulgar and mechanical politicians, who have no\nplace among us; a sort of people who think that nothing exists but what\nis gross and material; and who therefore, far from being qualified to be\ndirectors of the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel\nin the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly taught, these\nruling and master principles, which, in the opinion of such men as I\nhave mentioned, have no substantial existence, are in truth everything,\nand all in all. Magnanimity in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom;\nand a great empire and little minds go ill together. If we are conscious\nof our situation, and glow with zeal to fill our places as becomes our\nstation and ourselves, we ought to auspicate all our public proceedings\non America, with the old warning of the Church, Sursum corda! We ought\nto elevate our minds to the greatness of that trust to which the order\nof Providence has called us. By adverting to the dignity of this high\ncalling, our ancestors have turned a savage wilderness into a glorious\nempire; and have made the most extensive, and the only honourable\nconquests, not by destroying, but by promoting the wealth, the number,\nthe happiness of the human race. Let us get an American revenue as we\nhave got an American empire. English privileges have made it all that it\nis; English privileges alone will make it all it can be.\n\n\n\n\nAMERICAN PROTESTANTISM.\n\nIf anything were wanting to this necessary operation of the form of\ngovernment, religion would have given it a complete effect. Religion,\nalways a principle of energy, in this new people is no way worn out or\nimpaired; and their mode of professing it is also one main cause of this\nfree spirit. The people are Protestants; and of that kind which is the\nmost adverse to all implicit submission of mind and opinion. This is a\npersuasion not only favourable to liberty, but built upon it. I do\nnot think, Sir, that the reason of this averseness in the dissenting\nchurches, from all that looks like absolute government, is so much to be\nsought in their religious tenets, as in their history. Every one knows\nthat the Roman Catholic religion is at least coeval with most of the\ngovernments where it prevails; that it has generally gone hand in hand\nwith them, and received great favour and every kind of support from\nauthority. The Church of England, too, was formed from her cradle, under\nthe nursing care of regular government. But the dissenting interests\nhave sprung up in direct opposition to all the ordinary powers of the\nworld; and could justify that opposition only on a strong claim to\nnatural liberty. Their very existence depended on the powerful and\nunremitted assertion of that claim. All Protestantism, even the most\ncold and passive, is a sort of dissent. But the religion most prevalent\nin our northern colonies is a refinement on the principle of resistance;\nit is the dissidence of dissent, and the Protestantism of the Protestant\nreligion.\n\n\n\n\nRIGHT OF TAXATION.\n\nI am resolved this day to have nothing at all to do with the question of\nthe right of taxation. Some gentlemen startle, but it is true; I put\nit totally out of the question. It is less than nothing in my\nconsideration. I do not indeed wonder, nor will you, Sir, that gentlemen\nof profound learning are fond of displaying it on this profound subject.\nBut my consideration is narrow, confined, and wholly limited to the\npolicy of the question. I do not examine whether the giving away a\nman's money be a power excepted and reserved out of the general trust\nof government; and how far all mankind, in all forms of polity, are\nentitled to an exercise of that right by the charter of nature. Or\nwhether, on the contrary, a right of taxation is necessarily involved in\nthe general principle of legislation, and inseparable from the ordinary\nsupreme power. These are deep questions, where great names militate\nagainst each other; where reason is perplexed; and an appeal to\nauthorities only thickens the confusion. For high and reverend\nauthorities lift up their heads on both sides; and there is no sure\nfooting in the middle. This point is the GREAT SERBONIAN BOG, BETWIXT\nDAMIATA AND MOUNT CASIUS OLD, WHERE ARMIES WHOLE HAVE SUNK. I do\nnot intend to be overwhelmed in that bog, though in such respectable\ncompany. The question with me is, not whether you have a right to render\nyour people miserable; but whether it is not your interest to make them\nhappy. It is not what a lawyer tells me I MAY do; but what humanity,\nreason, and justice tell me I ought to do. Is a politic act the worse\nfor being a generous one? Is no concession proper, but that which is\nmade from your want of right to keep what you grant? Or does it lessen\nthe grace or dignity of relaxing in the exercise of an odious claim,\nbecause you have your evidence-room full of titles, and your magazines\nstuffed with arms to enforce them? What signify all those titles, and\nall those arms? Of what avail are they, when the reason of the thing\ntells me, that the assertion of my title is the loss of my suit; and\nthat I could do nothing but wound myself by the use of my own weapons?\n\n\n\n\nCONTRACTED VIEWS.\n\nIt is exceedingly common for men to contract their love to their country\ninto an attachment to its petty subdivisions; and they sometimes even\ncling to their provincial abuses, as if they were franchises and local\nprivileges. Accordingly, in places where there is much of this kind of\nestate, persons will be always found who would rather trust to their\ntalents in recommending themselves to power for the renewal of their\ninterests, than to incumber their purses, though never so lightly,\nin order to transmit independence to their posterity. It is a great\nmistake, that the desire of securing property is universal among\nmankind. Gaming is a principle inherent in human nature. It belongs to\nus all. I would therefore break those tables; I would furnish no evil\noccupation for that spirit. I would make every man look everywhere,\nexcept to the intrigue of a court, for the improvement of his\ncircumstances, or the security of his fortune.\n\n\n\n\nASSIMILATING POWER OF CONTACT.\n\nI am sure that the only means of checking precipitate degeneracy is\nheartily to concur with whatever is the best in our time; and to have\nsome more correct standard of judging what that best is, than the\ntransient and uncertain favour of a court. If once we are able to\nfind, and can prevail on ourselves to strengthen, a union of such men,\nwhatever accidentally becomes indisposed to ill-exercised power, even by\nthe ordinary operation of human passions, must join with that society,\nand cannot long be joined without in some degree assimilating to it.\nVirtue will catch as well as vice by contact; and the public stock of\nhonest, manly principle will daily accumulate. We are not too nicely\nto scrutinize motives as long as action is irreproachable. It is enough\n(and for a worthy man perhaps too much) to deal out its infamy to\nconvicted guilt and declared apostacy.\n\n\n\n\nPRUDENCE OF TIMELY REFORM.\n\nBut there is a time when men will not suffer bad things because their\nancestors have suffered worse. There is a time when the hoary head of\ninveterate abuse will neither draw reverence nor obtain protection. If\nthe noble lord in the blue riband pleads \"not guilty\" to the charges\nbrought against the present system of public economy, it is not possible\nto give a fair verdict by which he will not stand acquitted. But\npleading is not our present business. His plea or his traverse may be\nallowed as an answer to a charge, when a charge is made. But if he\nputs himself in the way to obstruct reformation, then the faults of\nhis office instantly become his own. Instead of a public officer in\nan abusive department, whose province is an object to be regulated, he\nbecomes a criminal who is to be punished. I do most seriously put it\nto administration, to consider the wisdom of a timely reform. Early\nreformations are amicable arrangements with a friend in power;\nlate reformations are terms imposed upon a conquered enemy: early\nreformations are made in cool blood; late reformations are made under\na state of inflammation. In that state of things people behold in\ngovernment nothing that is respectable. They see the abuse, and they\nwill see nothing else: they fall into the temper of a furious populace\nprovoked at the disorder of a house of ill-fame; they never attempt to\ncorrect or regulate; they go to work by the shortest way--they abate the\nnuisance, they pull down the house.\n\n\n\n\nDIFFICULTIES OF REFORMERS.\n\nNothing, you know, is more common than for men to wish, and call loudly,\ntoo, for a reformation, who, when it arrives, do by no means like the\nseverity of its aspect. Reformation is one of those pieces which must be\nput at some distance in order to please. Its greatest favourers love it\nbetter in the abstract than in the substance. When any old prejudice\nof their own, or any interest that they value, is touched, they become\nscrupulous, they become captious, and every man has his separate\nexception. Some pluck out the black hairs, some the gray; one point must\nbe given up to one; another point must be yielded to another; nothing\nis suffered to prevail upon its own principle; the whole is so frittered\ndown, and disjointed, that scarcely a trace of the original scheme\nremains! Thus, between the resistance of power, and the unsystematical\nprocess of popularity, the undertaker and the undertaking are both\nexposed, and the poor reformer is hissed off the stage both by friends\nand foes.\n\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHY OF COMMERCE.\n\nIf honesty be true policy with regard to the transient interest of\nindividuals, it is much more certainly so with regard to the permanent\ninterests of communities. I know, that it is but too natural for us to\nsee our own CERTAIN ruin in the POSSIBLE prosperity of other people. It\nis hard to persuade us, that everything which is GOT by another is not\nTAKEN from ourselves. But it is fit that we should get the better of\nthese suggestions, which come from what is not the best and soundest\npart of our nature, and that we should form to ourselves a way of\nthinking, more rational, more just, and more religious. Trade is not a\nlimited thing; as if the objects of mutual demand and consumption could\nnot stretch beyond the bounds of our jealousies. God has given the earth\nto the children of men, and he has undoubtedly, in giving it to them,\ngiven them what is abundantly sufficient for all their exigencies; not\na scanty, but a most liberal, provision for them all. The author of our\nnature has written it strongly in that nature, and has promulgated\nthe same law in his written word, that man shall eat his bread by his\nlabour; and I am persuaded, that no man, and no combination of men, for\ntheir own ideas of their particular profit, can, without great impiety,\nundertake to say, that he SHALL NOT do so; that they have no sort of\nright, either to prevent the labour, or to withhold the bread.\n\n\n\n\nTHEORIZING POLITICIANS.\n\nThere are people who have split and anatomised the doctrine of free\ngovernment, as if it were an abstract question concerning metaphysical\nliberty and necessity; and not a matter of moral prudence and natural\nfeeling. They have disputed, whether liberty be a positive or a negative\nidea; whether it does not consist in being governed by laws, without\nconsidering what are the laws, or who are the makers; whether man has\nany rights by nature; and whether all the property he enjoys be not the\nalms of his government, and his life itself their favour and indulgence.\nOthers corrupting religion, as these have perverted philosophy, contend,\nthat Christians are redeemed into captivity; and the blood of the\nSaviour of mankind has been shed to make them the slaves of a few proud\nand insolent sinners. These shocking extremes provoking to extremes\nof another kind, speculations are let loose as destructive to all\nauthority, as the former are to all freedom; and every government is\ncalled tyranny and usurpation which is not formed on their fancies.\nIn this manner the stirrers-up of this contention, not satisfied with\ndistracting our dependencies and filling them with blood and slaughter,\nare corrupting our understandings; they are endeavouring to tear up,\nalong with practical liberty, all the foundations of human society, all\nequity and justice, religion and order.\n\n\n\n\nECONOMY AND PUBLIC SPIRIT.\n\nEconomy and public spirit have made a beneficent and an honest spoil;\nthey have plundered from extravagance and luxury, for the use of\nsubstantial service, a revenue of near four hundred thousand pounds. The\nreform of the finances, joined to this reform of the court, gives to the\npublic nine hundred thousand pounds a year and upwards.\n\nThe minister who does these things is a great man--but the king who\ndesires that they should be done is a far greater. We must do justice to\nour enemies--these are the acts of a patriot king. I am not in dread of\nthe vast armies of France; I am not in dread of the gallant spirit of\nits brave and numerous nobility; I am not alarmed even at the great\nnavy which has been so miraculously created. All these things Louis the\nFourteenth had before. With all these things, the French monarchy has\nmore than once fallen prostrate at the feet of the public faith of Great\nBritain. It was the want of public credit which disabled France from\nrecovering after her defeats, or recovering even from her victories and\ntriumphs. It was a prodigal court, it was an ill-ordered revenue, that\nsapped the foundations of all her greatness. Credit cannot exist under\nthe arm of necessity. Necessity strikes at credit, I allow, with a\nheavier and quicker blow under an arbitrary monarchy, than under a\nlimited and balanced government; but still necessity and credit are\nnatural enemies, and cannot be long reconciled in any situation. From\nnecessity and corruption, a free state may lose the spirit of that\ncomplex constitution which is the foundation of confidence.\n\n\n\n\nREFORM OUGHT TO BE PROGRESSIVE.\n\nWhenever we improve, it is right to leave room for a further\nimprovement. It is right to consider, to look about us, to examine\nthe effect of what we have done. Then we can proceed with confidence,\nbecause we can proceed with intelligence. Whereas in hot reformations,\nin what men, more zealous than considerate, call MAKING CLEAR WORK, the\nwhole is generally so crude, so harsh, so indigested; mixed with so much\nimprudence, and so much injustice; so contrary to the whole course of\nhuman nature and human institutions, that the very people who are most\neager for it are among the first to grow disgusted at what they have\ndone. Then some part of the abdicated grievance is recalled from its\nexile in order to become a corrective of the correction. Then the abuse\nassumes all the credit and popularity of a reform. The very idea of\npurity and disinterestedness in politics falls into disrepute, and is\nconsidered as a vision of hot and inexperienced men; and thus disorders\nbecome incurable, not by the virulence of their own quality, but by the\nunapt and violent nature of the remedies. A great part, therefore, of my\nidea of reform is meant to operate gradually; some benefits will come at\na nearer, some at a more remote period. We must no more make haste to be\nrich by parsimony, than by intemperate acquisition.\n\n\n\n\nCIVIL FREEDOM.\n\nCivil freedom, gentlemen, is not, as many have endeavoured to persuade\nyou, a thing that lies hid in the depth of abstruse science. It is a\nblessing and a benefit, not an abstract speculation; and all the just\nreasoning that can be upon it is of so coarse a texture, as perfectly to\nsuit the ordinary capacities of those who are to enjoy, and of those\nwho are to defend it. Far from any resemblance to those propositions\nin geometry and metaphysics, which admit no medium, but must be true or\nfalse in all their latitude; social and civil freedom, like all other\nthings in common life, are variously mixed and modified, enjoyed in\nvery different degrees, and shaped into an infinite diversity of forms,\naccording to the temper and circumstances of every community. The\nEXTREME of liberty (which is its abstract perfection, but its real\nfault) obtains nowhere, nor ought to obtain anywhere. Because extremes,\nas we all know, in every point which relates either to our duties or\nsatisfactions in life, are destructive both to virtue and enjoyment.\n\n\n\n\nTENDENCIES OF POWER.\n\nWhen any community is subordinately connected with another, the great\ndanger of the connection is the extreme pride and self-complacency of\nthe superior, which in all matters of controversy will probably decide\nin its own favour. It is a powerful corrective to such a very rational\ncause of fear if the inferior body can be made to believe that the party\ninclination, or political views, of several in the principal state\nwill induce them in some degree to counteract this blind and tyrannical\npartiality. There is no danger that any one acquiring consideration or\npower in the presiding state should carry this leaning to the inferior\ntoo far. The fault of human nature is not of that sort. Power, in\nwhatever hands, is rarely guilty of too strict limitations on itself.\nBut one great advantage to the support of authority attends such an\namicable and protecting connection, that those who have conferred\nfavours obtain influence; and from the foresight of future events can\npersuade men who have received obligations, sometimes to return them.\nThus, by the mediation of those healing principles (call them good or\nevil), troublesome discussions are brought to some sort of adjustment,\nand every hot controversy is not a civil war.\n\n\n\n\nINDIVIDUAL GOOD AND PUBLIC BENEFIT.\n\nThe individual good felt in a public benefit is comparatively so small,\ncomes round through such an involved labyrinth of intricate and tedious\nrevolutions; whilst a present, personal detriment is so heavy where it\nfalls, and so instant in its operation, that the cold commendation of\na public advantage never was, and never will be a match for the quick\nsensibility of a private loss: and you may depend upon it, sir, that\nwhen many people have an interest in railing, sooner or later, they will\nbring a considerable degree of unpopularity upon any measure, So that,\nfor the present at least, the reformation will operate against the\nreformers, and revenge (as against them at the least) will produce all\nthe effects of corruption.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLIC CORRUPTION.\n\nNor is it the worst effect of this unnatural contention, that our LAWS\nare corrupted. Whilst MANNERS remain entire, they will correct the vices\nof law, and soften it at length to their own temper. But we have to\nlament, that in most of the late proceedings we see very few traces\nof that generosity, humanity, and dignity of mind which formerly\ncharacterized this nation. War suspends the rules of moral obligation,\nand what is long suspended is in danger of being totally abrogated.\nCivil wars strike deepest of all into the manners of the people. They\nvitiate their politics; they corrupt their morals; they pervert even\nthe natural taste and relish of equity and justice. By teaching us to\nconsider our fellow-citizens in a hostile light, the whole body of our\nnation becomes gradually less dear to us. The very names of affection\nand kindred, which were the bond of charity whilst we agreed, become\nnew incentives to hatred and rage when the communion of our country is\ndissolved. We may flatter ourselves that we shall not fall into this\nmisfortune. But we have no charter of exemption, that I know of, from\nthe ordinary frailties of our nature.\n\n\n\n\nCRUELTY AND COWARDICE.\n\nA conscientious man would be cautious how he dealt in blood. He would\nfeel some apprehension at being called to a tremendous account for\nengaging in so deep a play, without any sort of knowledge of the game.\nIt is no excuse for presumptuous ignorance, that it is directed by\ninsolent passion. The poorest being that crawls on earth, contending to\nsave itself from injustice and oppression, is an object respectable\nin the eyes of God and man. But I cannot conceive any existence under\nheaven (which, in the depths of its wisdom, tolerates all sorts of\nthings) that is more truly odious and disgusting, than an impotent\nhelpless creature, without civil wisdom or military skill, without a\nconsciousness of any other qualification for power but his servility to\nit, bloated with pride and arrogance, calling for battles which he\nis not to fight, contending for a violent dominion which he can never\nexercise, and satisfied to be himself mean and miserable, in order to\nrender others contemptible and wretched.\n\n\n\n\nBAD LAWS PRODUCE BASE SUBSERVIENCY.\n\nBad laws are the worst sort of tyranny. In such a country as this they\nare of all bad things the worst, worse by far than anywhere else; and\nthey derive a particular malignity even from the wisdom and soundness of\nthe rest of our institutions. For very obvious reasons you cannot trust\nthe crown with a dispensing power over any of your laws. However,\na government, be it as bad as it may, will, in the exercise of a\ndiscretionary power, discriminate times and persons; and will not\nordinarily pursue any man when its own safety is not concerned. A\nmercenary informer knows no distinction. Under such a system, the\nobnoxious people are slaves, not only to the government, but they live\nat the mercy of every individual; they are at once the slaves of\nthe whole community, and of every part of it; and the worst and most\nunmerciful men are those on whose goodness they most depend.\n\nIn this situation men not only shrink from the frowns of a stern\nmagistrate, but they are obliged to fly from their very species. The\nseeds of destruction are sown in civil intercourse, in social habitudes.\nThe blood of wholesome kindred is infected. Their tables and beds are\nsurrounded with snares. All the means given by Providence to make\nlife safe and comfortable are perverted into instruments of terror and\ntorment. This species of universal subserviency, that makes the very\nservant who waits behind your chair the arbiter of your life and\nfortune, has such a tendency to degrade and abase mankind, and to\ndeprive them of that assured and liberal state of mind which alone can\nmake us what we ought to be, that I vow to God I would sooner bring\nmyself to put a man to immediate death for opinions I disliked, and so\nto get rid of the man and his opinions at once, than to fret him with\na feverish being, tainted with the jail-distemper of a contagious\nservitude, to keep him above ground an animated mass of putrefaction,\ncorrupted himself, and corrupting all about him.\n\n\n\n\nFALSE REGRET.\n\nIf we repent of our good actions, what, I pray you, is left for our\nfaults and follies? It is not the beneficence of the laws, it is the\nunnatural temper which beneficence can fret and sour that is to be\nlamented. It is this temper which, by all rational means, ought to be\nsweetened and corrected. If froward men should refuse this cure, can\nthey vitiate anything but themselves? Does evil so react upon good, as\nnot only to retard its motion, but to change its nature? If it can\nso operate, then good men will always be in the power of the bad;\nand virtue, by a dreadful reverse of order, must lie under perpetual\nsubjection and bondage to vice.\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH DOMINION IN EAST INDIA.\n\nWith very few, and those inconsiderable, intervals, the British\ndominion, either in the Company's name, or in the names of princes\nabsolutely dependent upon the Company, extends from the mountains that\nseparate India from Tartary to Cape Comorin,--that is, one-and-twenty\ndegrees of latitude!\n\nIn the northern parts it is a solid mass of land, about eight hundred\nmiles in length, and four or five hundred broad. As you go southward,\nit becomes narrower for a space. It afterwards dilates; but, narrower or\nbroader, you possess the whole eastern and north-eastern coast of that\nvast country, quite from the borders of Pegu. Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa,\nwith Benares (now unfortunately in our immediate possession), measure\n161,978 square English miles; a territory considerably larger than the\nwhole kingdom of France. Oude, with its dependent provinces, is 53,286\nsquare miles, not a great deal less than England. The Carnatic, with\nTanjore and the Circars, is 65,948 square miles, very considerably\nlarger than England; and the whole of the Company's dominions,\ncomprehending Bombay and Salsette, amounts to 281,412 square miles;\nwhich forms a territory larger than any European dominion, Russia and\nTurkey excepted. Through all that vast extent of country there is not\na man who eats a mouthful of rice but by permission of the East-India\nCompany.\n\nSo far with regard to the extent. The population of this great empire\nis not easily to be calculated. When the countries, of which it is\ncomposed, came into our possession, they were all eminently peopled,\nand eminently productive; though at that time considerably declined from\ntheir ancient prosperity. But, since they are come into our hands!--!\nHowever, if we make the period of our estimate immediately before the\nutter desolation of the Carnatic, and if we allow for the havoc which\nour government had even then made in these regions, we cannot, in\nmy opinion, rate the population at much less than thirty millions of\nsouls,--more than four times the number of persons in the Island of\nGreat Britain.\n\nMy next inquiry to that of the number, is the quality and description of\nthe inhabitants. This multitude of men does not consist of an abject and\nbarbarous populace; much less of gangs of savages, like the Guaranies\nand Chiquitos, who wander on the waste borders of the river of Amazons,\nor the Plate; but a people for ages civilized and cultivated; cultivated\nby all the arts of polished life, whilst we were yet in the woods.\nThere have been (and still the skeletons remain) princes once of great\ndignity, authority, and opulence. There are to be found the chiefs\nof tribes and nations. There is to be found an ancient and venerable\npriesthood, the depository of their laws, learning, and history, the\nguides of the people whilst living, and their consolation in death;\na nobility of great antiquity and renown; a multitude of cities, not\nexceeded in population and trade by those of the first class in Europe;\nmerchants and bankers, individual houses of whom have once vied in\ncapital with the Bank of England; whose credit had often supported a\ntottering state, and preserved their governments in the midst of war and\ndesolation; millions of ingenious manufacturers and mechanics; millions\nof the most diligent, and not the least intelligent, tillers of the\nearth. There are to be found almost all the religions professed by\nmen,--the Brahminical, the Mussulman, the Eastern and the Western\nChristian.\n\nIf I were to take the whole aggregate of our possessions there, I should\ncompare it, as the nearest parallel I can find, with the empire of\nGermany. Our immediate possessions I should compare with the Austrian\ndominions,--and they would not suffer in the comparison. The nabob of\nOude might stand for the king of Prussia; the nabob of Arcot I would\ncompare, as superior in territory and equal in revenue, to the elector\nof Saxony. Cheyt Sing, the rajah of Benares, might well rank with the\nprince of Hesse, at least; and the rajah of Tanjore (though hardly equal\nin extent of dominion, superior in revenue), to the elector of Bavaria.\nThe Polygars and the northern Zemindars, and other great chiefs, might\nwell class with the rest of the princes, dukes, counts, marquises, and\nbishops, in the empire; all of whom I mention to honour, and surely\nwithout disparagement to any or all of those most respectable princes\nand grandees. All this vast mass, composed of so many orders and classes\nof men, is again infinitely advocated by manners, by religion, by\nhereditary employment, through all their possible combinations. This\nrenders the handling of India a matter in a high degree critical and\ndelicate. But oh! it has been handled rudely indeed. Even some of\nthe reformers seem to have forgot that they had anything to do but to\nregulate the tenants of a manor, or the shopkeepers of the next county\ntown.\n\nIt is an empire of this extent, of this complicated nature, of this\ndignity and importance, that I have compared to Germany, and the German\ngovernment; not for an exact resemblance, but as a sort of a middle\nterm, by which India might be approximated to our understandings, and if\npossible to our feelings; in order to awaken something of sympathy\nfor the unfortunate natives, of which I am afraid we are not perfectly\nsusceptible, whilst we look at this very remote object through a false\nand cloudy medium.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICAL CHARITY.\n\nHonest men will not forget either their merit or their sufferings. There\nare men (and many, I trust, there are) who, out of love to their country\nand their kind, would torture their invention to find excuses for\nthe mistakes of their brethren; and who, to stifle dissension, would\nconstrue even doubtful appearances with the utmost favour: such men will\nnever persuade themselves to be ingenious and refined in discovering\ndisaffection and treason in the manifest, palpable signs of suffering\nloyalty. Persecution is so unnatural to them, that they gladly snatch\nthe very first opportunity of laying aside all the tricks and devices\nof penal politics; and of returning home, after all their irksome and\nvexatious wanderings, to our natural family mansion, to the grand social\nprinciple, that unites all men, in all descriptions, under the shadow of\nan equal and impartial justice.\n\n\n\n\nEVILS OF DISTRACTION.\n\nThe very attempt towards pleasing everybody discovers a temper always\nflashy, and often false and insincere. Therefore as I have proceeded\nstraight onward in my conduct, so I will proceed in my account of those\nparts of it which have been most excepted to. But I must first beg leave\njust to hint to you, that we may suffer very great detriment by being\nopen to every talker. It is not to be imagined how much of service is\nlost from spirits full of activity and full of energy, who are pressing,\nwho are rushing forward, to great and capital objects, when you oblige\nthem to be continually looking back. Whilst they are defending one\nservice, they defraud you of an hundred. Applaud us when we run; console\nus when we fall; cheer us when we recover; but let us pass on--for God's\nsake let us pass on.\n\n\n\n\nCHARLES FOX.\n\nAnd now, having done my duty to the bill, let me say a word to the\nauthor. I should leave him to his own noble sentiments, if the unworthy\nand illiberal language with which he has been treated, beyond all\nexample of parliamentary liberty, did not make a few words necessary;\nnot so much in justice to him, as to my own feelings. I must say, then,\nthat it will be a distinction honourable to the age, that the rescue\nof the greatest number of the human race that ever were so grievously\noppressed, from the greatest tyranny that was ever exercised, has fallen\nto the lot of abilities and dispositions equal to the task; that it\nhas fallen to one who has the enlargement to comprehend, the spirit to\nundertake, and the eloquence to support, so great a measure of hazardous\nbenevolence. His spirit is not owing to his ignorance of the state of\nmen and things; he well knows what snares are spread about his path,\nfrom personal animosity, from court intrigues, and possibly from popular\ndelusion. But he has put to hazard his ease, his security, his interest,\nhis power, even his darling popularity, for the benefit of a people whom\nhe has never seen. This is the road that all heroes have trod before\nhim. He is traduced and abused for his supposed motives. He will\nremember, that obloquy is a necessary ingredient in the composition\nof all true glory: he will remember, that it was not only in the Roman\ncustoms, but it is in the nature and constitution of things, that\ncalumny and abuse are essential parts of triumph. These thoughts will\nsupport a mind, which only exists for honour, under the burthen of\ntemporary reproach. He is doing indeed a great good; such as rarely\nfalls to the lot, and almost as rarely coincides with the desires, of\nany man. Let him use his time. Let him give the whole length of the\nreins to his benevolence. He is now on a great eminence, where the eyes\nof mankind are turned to him. He may live long, he may do much. But here\nis the summit. He never can exceed what he does this day.\n\nHe has faults; but they are faults that, though they may in a small\ndegree tarnish the lustre, and sometimes impede the march, of his\nabilities, have nothing in them to extinguish the fire of great virtues.\nIn those faults there is no mixture of deceit, of hypocrisy, of pride,\nof ferocity, of complexional despotism, or want of feeling for the\ndistresses of mankind. His are faults which might exist in a descendant\nof Henry the Fourth of France, as they did exist in that father of his\ncountry. Henry the Fourth wished that he might live to see a fowl in\nthe pot of every peasant in his kingdom. That sentiment of homely\nbenevolence was worth all the splendid sayings that are recorded of\nkings. But he wished perhaps for more than could be obtained, and the\ngoodness of the man exceeded the power of the king. But this gentleman,\na subject, may this day say this at least, with truth, that he secures\nthe rice in his pot to every man in India. A poet of antiquity thought\nit one of the first distinctions to a prince whom he meant to celebrate,\nthat through a long succession of generations, he had been the\nprogenitor of an able and virtuous citizen, who by force of the arts of\npeace, had corrected governments of oppression, and suppressed wars of\nrapine.\n\n    Indole proh quanta juvenis, quantumque daturus\n    Ausoniae populis ventura in saecula civem.\n    Ille super Gangem, super exauditus et Indos,\n    Implebit terras voce; et furialia bella\n    Fulmine compescet linguae.--\n\nThis was what was said of the predecessor of the only person to whose\neloquence it does not wrong that of the mover of this bill to be\ncompared. But the Ganges and the Indus are the patrimony of the fame of\nmy honourable friend, and not of Cicero. I confess, I anticipate with\njoy the reward of those, whose whole consequence, power, and authority,\nexist only for the benefit of mankind; and I carry my mind to all the\npeople, and all the names and descriptions, that, relieved by this bill,\nwill bless the labours of this parliament, and the confidence which the\nbest House of Commons has given to him who the best deserves it. The\nlittle cavils of party will not be heard, where freedom and happiness\nwill be felt. There is not a tongue, a nation, or religion in India\nwhich will not bless the presiding care and manly beneficence of this\nhouse, and of him who proposes to you this great work. Your names will\nnever be separated before the throne of the Divine goodness, in whatever\nlanguage, or with whatever rites, pardon is asked for sin, and reward\nfor those who imitate the Godhead in his universal bounty to his\ncreatures. These honours you deserve, and they will surely be paid, when\nall the jargon of influence, and party, and patronage, are swept into\noblivion.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMPRACTICABLE UNDESIRABLE.\n\nI know it is common for men to say, that such and such things are\nperfectly right--very desirable; but that, unfortunately, they are not\npracticable. Oh! no, sir, no. Those things, which are not practicable,\nare not desirable. There is nothing in the world really beneficial\nthat does not lie within the reach of an informed understanding, and a\nwell-directed pursuit. There is nothing that God has judged good for us\nthat he has not given us the means to accomplish, both in the natural\nand the moral world. If we cry, like children, for the moon, like\nchildren we must cry on.\n\n\n\n\nCONSTITUTION OF THE COMMONS.\n\nThe late House of Commons has been punished for its independence. That\nexample is made. Have we an example on record of a House of Commons\npunished for its servility? The rewards of a senate so disposed are\nmanifest to the world. Several gentlemen are very desirous of altering\nthe constitution of the House of Commons; but they must alter the frame\nand constitution of human nature itself before they can so fashion it by\nany mode of election that its conduct will not be influenced by reward\nand punishment, by fame, and by disgrace. If these examples take root in\nthe minds of men, what members hereafter will be bold enough not to be\ncorrupt? Especially as the king's highway of obsequiousness is so very\nbroad and easy. To make a passive member of parliament, no dignity of\nmind, no principles of honour, no resolution, no ability, no industry,\nno learning, no experience, are in the least degree necessary. To defend\na post of importance against a powerful enemy, requires an Elliot; a\ndrunken invalid is qualified to hoist a white flag, or to deliver up the\nkeys of the fortress on his knees.\n\n\n\n\nEMOLUMENTS OF OFFICE.\n\nNo man knows, when he cuts off the incitements to a virtuous ambition,\nand the just rewards of public service, what infinite mischief he may\ndo his country, through all generations. Such saving to the public may\nprove the worst mode of robbing it. The crown, which has in its hands\nthe trust of the daily pay for national service, ought to have in its\nhands also the means for the repose of public labour, and the\nfixed settlement of acknowledged merit. There is a time when the\nweather-beaten vessels of the state ought to come into harbour. They\nmust at length have a retreat from the malice of rivals, from the\nperfidy of political friends, and the inconstancy of the people. Many\nof the persons, who in all times have filled the great offices of state,\nhave been younger brothers, who had originally little, if any, fortune.\nThese offices do not furnish the means of amassing wealth. There ought\nto be some power in the crown of granting pensions out of the reach of\nits own caprices. An entail of dependence is a bad reward of merit.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL DISTINCTIONS.\n\nThose who are least anxious about your conduct are not those that\nlove you most. Moderate affection and satiated enjoyment are cold and\nrespectful; but an ardent and injured passion is tempered up with wrath,\nand grief, and shame, and conscious worth, and the maddening sense of\nviolated right. A jealous love lights his torch from the firebrands of\nthe furies. They who call upon you to belong WHOLLY to the people, are\nthose who wish you to return to your PROPER home; to the sphere of your\nduty, to the post of your honour, to the mansion-house of all genuine,\nserene, and solid satisfaction.\n\n\n\n\nELECTORS AND REPRESENTATIVES.\n\nLook, gentlemen, to the WHOLE TENOUR of your member's conduct. Try\nwhether his ambition or his avarice have jostled him out of the straight\nline of duty; or whether that grand foe of the offices of active\nlife, that master vice in men of business, a degenerate and inglorious\nsloth--has made him flag and languish in his course. This is the object\nof our inquiry. If our member's conduct can bear this touch, mark it for\nsterling. He may have fallen into errors; he must have faults; but our\nerror is greater, and our fault is radically ruinous to ourselves, if\nwe do not bear, if we do not even applaud, the whole compound and mixed\nmass of such a character. Not to act thus is folly; I had almost said it\nis impiety. He censures God, who quarrels with the imperfections of man.\n\nGentlemen, we must not be peevish with those who serve the people. For\nnone will serve us whilst there is a court to serve but those who are of\na nice and jealous honour. They who think everything, in comparison of\nthat honour, to be dust and ashes, will not bear to have it soiled and\nimpaired by those for whose sake they make a thousand sacrifices to\npreserve it immaculate and whole. We shall either drive such men from\nthe public stage, or we shall send them to the court for protection;\nwhere, if they must sacrifice their reputation, they will at least\nsecure their interest. Depend upon it, that the lovers of freedom will\nbe free. None will violate their conscience to please us, in order\nafterwards to discharge that conscience, which they have violated, by\ndoing us faithful and affectionate service. If we degrade and deprave\ntheir minds by servility, it will be absurd to expect, that they who\nare creeping and abject towards us, will ever be bold and incorruptible\nassertors of our freedom, against the most seducing and the most\nformidable of all powers. No! human nature is not so formed; nor shall\nwe improve the faculties or better the morals of public men, by our\npossession of the most infallible receipt in the world for making cheats\nand hypocrites.\n\nLet me say with plainness, I who am no longer in a public character,\nthat if by a fair, by an indulgent, by a gentlemanly behaviour to our\nrepresentatives, we do not give confidence to their minds, and a liberal\nscope to their understandings; if we do not permit our members to act\nupon a VERY enlarged view of things; we shall at length infallibly\ndegrade our national representation into a confused and scuffling bustle\nof local agency. When the popular member is narrowed in his ideas, and\nrendered timid in his proceedings, the service of the crown will be the\nsole nursery of statesmen. Among the frolics of the court, it may at\nlength take that of attending to its business. Then the monopoly of\nmental power will be added to the power of all other kinds it possesses.\nOn the side of the people there will be nothing but impotence: for\nignorance is impotence; narrowness of mind is impotence; timidity is\nitself impotence, and makes all other qualities that go along with it,\nimpotent and useless.\n\n\n\n\nPOPULAR OPINION A FALLACIOUS STANDARD.\n\nWhen we know, that the opinions of even the greatest multitudes are\nthe standard of rectitude, I shall think myself obliged to make those\nopinions the masters of my conscience. But if it may be doubted whether\nOmnipotence itself is competent to alter the essential constitution\nof right and wrong, sure I am that such THINGS, as they and I, are\npossessed of no such power. No man carries further than I do the policy\nof making government pleasing to the people. But the widest range of\nthis politic complaisance is confined within the limits of justice.\nI would not only consult the interest of the people, but I would\ncheerfully gratify their humours. We are all a sort of children that\nmust be soothed and managed. I think I am not austere or formal in my\nnature. I would bear, I would even myself play my part in any innocent\nbuffooneries to divert them. But I never will act the tyrant for their\namusement. If they will mix malice in their sports, I shall never\nconsent to throw them any living, sentient creature whatsoever--no, not\nso much as a kitling, to torment.\n\n\n\n\nENGLISH REFORMATION.\n\nThe condition of our nature is such, that we buy our blessings at\na price. The Reformation, one of the greatest periods of human\nimprovement, was a time of trouble and confusion. The vast structure of\nsuperstition and tyranny, which had been for ages in rearing, and which\nwas combined with the interest of the great and of the many, which was\nmoulded into the laws, the manners, and civil institutions of nations,\nand blended with the frame and policy of states, could not be brought\nto the ground without a fearful struggle; nor could it fall without\na violent concussion of itself and all about it. When this great\nrevolution was attempted in a more regular mode by government, it was\nopposed by plots and seditions of the people; when by popular efforts,\nit was repressed as a rebellion by the hand of power; and bloody\nexecutions (often bloodily returned) marked the whole of its progress\nthrough all its stages. The affairs of religion, which are no longer\nheard of in the tumult of our present contentions, made a principal\ningredient in the wars and politics of that time; the enthusiasm of\nreligion threw a gloom over the politics; and political interests\npoisoned and perverted the spirit of religion upon all sides. The\nProtestant religion in that violent struggle, infected, as the Popish\nhad been before, by worldly interests and worldly passions, became a\npersecutor in its turn, sometimes of the new sects, which carried their\nown principles further than it was convenient to the original reformers;\nand always of the body from whom they parted: and this persecuting\nspirit arose, not only from the bitterness of retaliation, but from the\nmerciless policy of fear.\n\nIt was long before the spirit of true piety and true wisdom, involved in\nthe principles of the Reformation, could be depurated from the dregs and\nfeculence of the contention with which it was carried through. However,\nuntil this be done, the Reformation is not complete; and those who think\nthemselves good Protestants, from their animosity to others, are in that\nrespect no Protestants at all.\n\n\n\n\nPROSCRIPTION.\n\nThis way of PROSCRIBING THE CITIZENS BY DENOMINATIONS AND GENERAL\nDESCRIPTIONS, dignified by the name of reason of state, and security for\nconstitutions and commonwealths, is nothing better at bottom, than the\nmiserable invention of an ungenerous ambition, which would fain hold the\nsacred trust of power, without any of the virtues or any of the energies\nthat give a title to it: a receipt of policy, made up of a detestable\ncompound of malice, cowardice, and sloth. They would govern men against\ntheir will; but in that government they would be discharged from the\nexercise of vigilance, providence, and fortitude; and therefore, that\nthey may sleep on their watch, they consent to take some one division\nof the society into partnership of the tyranny over the rest. But let\ngovernment, in what form it may be, comprehend the whole in its justice,\nand restrain the suspicious by its vigilance; let it keep watch and\nward; let it discover by its sagacity, and punish by its firmness, all\ndelinquency against its power, whenever delinquency exists in the overt\nacts; and then it will be as safe as ever God and nature intended it\nshould be. Crimes are the acts of individuals, and not of denominations;\nand therefore arbitrarily to class men under general descriptions,\nin order to proscribe and punish them in the lump for a presumed\ndelinquency, of which perhaps but a part, perhaps none at all, are\nguilty, is indeed a compendious method, and saves a world of trouble\nabout proof; but such a method, instead of being law, is an act of\nunnatural rebellion against the legal dominion of reason and justice;\nand this vice, in any constitution that entertains it, at one time or\nother will certainly bring on its ruin.\n\n\n\n\nJUST FREEDOM.\n\nI must fairly tell you, that so far as my principles are concerned,\n(principles that I hope will only depart with my last breath), I have no\nidea of a liberty unconnected with honesty and justice. Nor do I believe\nthat any good constitutions of government, or of freedom, can find\nit necessary for their security to doom any part of the people to a\npermanent slavery. Such a constitution of freedom, if such can be, is\nin effect no more than another name for the tyranny of the strongest\nfaction; and factions in republics have been, and are, full as capable\nas monarchs of the most cruel oppression and injustice. It is but\ntoo true, that the love, and even the very idea of genuine liberty is\nextremely rare. It is but too true, that there are many whose whole\nscheme of freedom is made up of pride, perverseness, and insolence. They\nfeel themselves in a state of thraldom, they imagine that their souls\nare cooped and cabined in, unless they have some man, or some body of\nmen, dependent on their mercy. The desire of having some one below them\ndescends to those who are the very lowest of all,--and a Protestant\ncobbler, debased by his poverty, but exalted by his share of the ruling\nchurch, feels a pride in knowing it is by his generosity alone that the\npeer, whose footman's instep he measures, is able to keep his chaplain\nfrom a gaol.\n\n\n\n\nENGLAND'S EMBASSY TO AMERICA.\n\nThey enter the capital of America only to abandon it; and these\nassertors and representatives of the dignity of England, at the tail\nof a flying army, let fly their Parthian shafts of memorials and\nremonstrances at random behind them. Their promises and their offers,\ntheir flatteries and their menaces, were all despised; and we were saved\nfrom the disgrace of their formal reception, only because the congress\nscorned to receive them; whilst the state-house of independent\nPhiladelphia opened her doors to the public entry of the ambassador of\nFrance. From war and blood we went to submission; and from submission\nplunged back again to war and blood; to desolate and be desolated,\nwithout measure, hope, or end. I am a Royalist, I blushed for this\ndegradation of the crown. I am a Whig, I blushed for the dishonour of\nparliament. I am a true Englishman, I felt to the quick for the disgrace\nof England. I am a man, I felt for the melancholy reverse of human\naffairs in the fall of the first power in the world.\n\n\n\n\nHOWARD, THE PHILANTHROPIST.\n\nI cannot name this gentleman without remarking that his labours and\nwritings have done much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind. He has\nvisited all Europe,--not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the\nstateliness of temples; not to make accurate measurements of the remains\nof ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of the curiosity of modern art;\nnot to collect medals, or collate manuscripts:--but to dive into the\ndepths of dungeons; to plunge into the infection of hospitals; to survey\nthe mansions of sorrow and pain; to take the gauge and dimensions of\nmisery, depression, and contempt; to remember the forgotten, to attend\nto the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and to compare and collate the\ndistresses of all men in all countries. His plan is original; and is\nas full of genius as it is of humanity. It was a voyage of discovery; a\ncircumnavigation of charity. Already the benefit of his labour is felt\nmore or less in every country; I hope he will anticipate his final\nreward by seeing all its effects fully realized in his own. He will\nreceive, not by detail, but in gross, the reward of those who visit\nthe prisoner; and he has so forestalled and monopolized this branch of\ncharity, that there will be, I trust, little room to merit by such acts\nof benevolence hereafter.\n\n\n\n\nPARLIAMENTARY RETROSPECT.\n\nIt is certainly not pleasing to be put out of the public service. But\nI wish to be a member of parliament, to have my share of doing good and\nresisting evil. It would therefore be absurd to renounce my objects in\norder to obtain my seat. I deceive myself indeed most grossly if I had\nnot much rather pass the remainder of my life hidden in the recesses\nof the deepest obscurity, feeding my mind even with the visions and\nimaginations of such things, than to be placed on the most splendid\nthrone of the universe, tantalized with a denial of the practice of all\nwhich can make the greatest situation any other than the greatest\ncurse. Gentlemen, I have had my day. I can never sufficiently express my\ngratitude to you for having set me in a place wherein I could lend the\nslightest help to great and laudable designs. If I have had my share in\nany measure giving quiet to private property, and private conscience;\nif by my vote I have aided in securing to families the best possession,\npeace; if I have joined in reconciling kings to their subjects, and\nsubjects to their prince; if I have assisted to loosen the foreign\nholdings of the citizen, and taught him to look for his protection to\nthe laws of his country, and for his comfort to the goodwill of his\ncountrymen--if I have thus taken my part with the best of men in the\nbest of their actions, I can shut the book;--I might wish to read a page\nor two more--but this is enough for my measure,--I have not lived in\nvain.\n\n\n\n\nPEOPLE AND PARLIAMENT.\n\nLet the commons in parliament assembled be one and the same thing with\nthe commons at large. The distinctions that are made to separate us are\nunnatural and wicked contrivances. Let us identify, let us incorporate,\nourselves with the people. Let us cut all the cables and snap the chains\nwhich tie us to an unfaithful shore, and enter the friendly harbour that\nshoots far out into the main its moles and jettees to receive us.--\"War\nwith the world, and peace with our constituents.\" Be this our motto,\nand our principle. Then, indeed, we shall be truly great. Respecting\nourselves, we shall be respected by the world. At present all is\ntroubled, and cloudy, and distracted, and full of anger and turbulence,\nboth abroad and at home; but the air may be cleared by this storm, and\nlight and fertility may follow it. Let us give a faithful pledge to the\npeople, that we honour indeed the crown, but that we BELONG to them;\nthat we are their auxiliaries, and not their task-masters,--the\nfellow-labourers in the same vineyard,--not lording over their rights,\nbut helpers of their joy: that to tax them is a grievance to ourselves;\nbut to cut off from our enjoyments to forward theirs, is the highest\ngratification we are capable of receiving.\n\n\n\n\nREFORMED CIVIL LIST.\n\nAs things now stand, every man, in proportion to his consequence at\ncourt, tends to add to the expense of the civil list, by all manner of\njobs, if not for himself, yet for his dependents. When the new plan is\nestablished, those who are now suitors for jobs will become the most\nstrenuous opposers of them. They will have a common interest with the\nminister in public economy. Every class, as it stands low, will become\nsecurity for the payment of the preceding class; and, thus, the persons\nwhose insignificant services defraud those that are useful, would\nthen become interested in their payment. Then the powerful, instead of\noppressing, would be obliged to support the weak; and idleness would\nbecome concerned in the reward of industry. The whole fabric of the\ncivil economy would become compact and connected in all its parts;\nit would be formed into a well-organized body, where every member\ncontributes to the support of the whole; and where even the lazy stomach\nsecures the vigour of the active arm.\n\n\n\n\nFRENCH AND ENGLISH REVOLUTION.\n\nHe felt some concern that this strange thing, called a Revolution in\nFrance, should be compared with the glorious event commonly called\nthe Revolution in England; and the conduct of the soldiery, on that\noccasion, compared with the behaviour of some of the troops of France in\nthe present instance. At that period the prince of Orange, a prince of\nthe blood-royal in England, was called in by the flower of the English\naristocracy to defend its ancient constitution, and not to level all\ndistinctions. To this prince, so invited, the aristocratic leaders who\ncommanded the troops went over with their several corps, in bodies,\nto the deliverer of their country. Aristocratic leaders brought up the\ncorps of citizens who newly enlisted in this cause. Military obedience\nchanged its object; but military discipline was not for a moment\ninterrupted in its principle. The troops were ready for war, but\nindisposed to mutiny. But as the conduct of the English armies was\ndifferent, so was that of the whole English nation at that time. In\ntruth, the circumstances of our revolution (as it is called) and that of\nFrance, are just the reverse of each other in almost every particular,\nand in the whole spirit of the transaction. With us it was the case of a\nlegal monarch attempting arbitrary power--in France it is the case of\nan arbitrary monarch, beginning, from whatever cause, to legalize his\nauthority. The one was to be resisted, the other was to be managed and\ndirected; but in neither case was the order of the state to be changed,\nlest government might be ruined, which ought only to be corrected and\nlegalized. With us we got rid of the man, and preserved the constituent\nparts of the state. There they get rid of the constituent parts of the\nstate, and keep the man. What we did was in truth and substance, and in\na constitutional light, a revolution, not made, but prevented. We took\nsolid securities; we settled doubtful questions; we corrected anomalies\nin our law. In the stable, fundamental parts of our constitution we\nmade no revolution; no, nor any alteration at all. We did not impair\nthe monarchy. Perhaps it might be shown that we strengthened it very\nconsiderably. The nation kept the same ranks, the same orders, the same\nprivileges, the same franchises, the same rules for property, the same\nsubordinations, the same order in the law, in the revenue, and in the\nmagistracy; the same lords, the same commons, the same corporations, the\nsame electors.\n\nThe church was not impaired. Her estates, her majesty, her splendour,\nher orders and gradations, continued the same. She was preserved in her\nfull efficiency, and cleared only of a certain intolerance, which was\nher weakness and disgrace. The church and the state were the same after\nthe revolution that they were before, but better secured in every part.\n\nWas little done because a revolution was not made in the constitution?\nNo! Everything was done; because we commenced with reparation, not with\nruin. Accordingly the state flourished. Instead of laying as dead, in a\nsort of trance, or exposed, as some others, in an epileptic fit, to\nthe pity or derision of the world, for her wild, ridiculous, convulsive\nmovements, impotent to every purpose but that of dashing out her brains\nagainst the pavement, Great Britain rose above the standard even of\nher former self. An era of a more improved domestic prosperity then\ncommenced, and still continues not only unimpaired, but growing, under\nthe wasting hand of time. All the energies of the country were awakened.\nEngland never preserved a firmer countenance, nor a more vigorous arm,\nto all her enemies, and to all her rivals. Europe under her respired and\nrevived. Everywhere she appeared as the protector, assertor, or avenger,\nof liberty. A war was made and supported against fortune itself. The\ntreaty of Ryswick, which first limited the power of France, was soon\nafter made; the grand alliance very shortly followed, which shook to\nthe foundations the dreadful power which menaced the independence of\nmankind. The states of Europe lay happy under the shade of a great and\nfree monarchy, which knew how to be great without endangering its\nown peace at home, or the internal or external peace of any of its\nneighbours.\n\n\n\n\nARMED DISCIPLINE.\n\nHe knew too well, and he felt as much as any man, how difficult it\nwas to accommodate a standing army to a free constitution, or to any\nconstitution. An armed, disciplined, body is, in its essence, dangerous\nto liberty; undisciplined, it is ruinous to society. Its component parts\nare, in the latter case, neither good citizens nor good soldiers. What\nhave they thought of in France, under such a difficulty as almost puts\nthe human faculties to a stand? They have put their army under such\na variety of principles of duty, that it is more likely to breed\nlitigants, pettifoggers, and mutineers, than soldiers. They have set\nup, to balance their crown army, another army, deriving under another\nauthority, called a municipal army--a balance of armies, not of\norders. These latter they have destroyed with every mark of insult and\noppression. States may, and they will best, exist with a partition of\ncivil powers. Armies cannot exist under a divided command. This state of\nthings he thought, in effect, a state of war, or, at best, but a truce\ninstead of peace, in the country.\n\n\n\n\nGILDED DESPOTISM.\n\nIn the last century, Louis the Fourteenth had established a greater\nand better disciplined military force than ever had been before seen\nin Europe, and with it a perfect despotism. Though that despotism was\nproudly arrayed in manners, gallantry, splendour, magnificence, and even\ncovered over with the imposing robes of science, literature, and arts,\nit was, in government, nothing better than a painted and gilded tyranny;\nin religion, a hard, stern intolerance, the fit companion and auxiliary\nto the despotic tyranny which prevailed in its government. The same\ncharacter of despotism insinuated itself into every court of Europe, the\nsame spirit of disproportioned magnificence--the same love of standing\narmies, above the ability of the people. In particular, our then\nsovereigns, King Charles and King James, fell in love with the\ngovernment of their neighbour, so flattering to the pride of kings. A\nsimilarity of sentiments brought on connections equally dangerous to\nthe interests and liberties of their country. It were well that the\ninfection had gone no farther than the throne. The admiration of a\ngovernment flourishing and successful, unchecked in its operations, and\nseeming therefore to compass its objects more speedily and effectually,\ngained something upon all ranks of people. The good patriots of that\nday, however, struggled against it. They sought nothing more anxiously\nthan to break off all communication with France, and to be get a total\nalienation from its councils and its example; which, by the animosity\nprevalent between the abettors of their religious system and the\nassertors of ours, was in some degree effected.\n\n\n\n\nOUR FRENCH DANGERS.\n\nIn the last age we were in danger of being entangled by the example of\nFrance in the net of a relentless despotism. It is not necessary to say\nanything upon that example. It exists no longer. Our present danger\nfrom the example of a people, whose character knows no medium, is,\nwith regard to government, a danger from anarchy; a danger of being led\nthrough an admiration of successful fraud and violence, to an\nimitation of the excesses of an irrational, unprincipled, proscribing,\nconfiscating, plundering, ferocious, bloody, and tyrannical democracy.\nOn the side of religion, the danger of their example is no longer from\nintolerance, but from atheism; a foul, unnatural vice, foe to all the\ndignity and consolation of mankind; which seems in France, for a long\ntime, to have been embodied into a faction, accredited, and almost\navowed.\n\n\n\n\nSIR GEORGE SAVILLE.\n\nWhen an act of great and signal humanity was to be done, and done with\nall the weight and authority that belonged to it, the world would cast\nits eyes upon none but him. I hope that few things which have a tendency\nto bless or to adorn life have wholly escaped my observation in my\npassage through it. I have sought the acquaintance of that gentleman,\nand have seen him in all situations. He is a true genius; with an\nunderstanding vigorous, and acute, and refined, and distinguishing even\nto excess; and illuminated with a most unbounded, peculiar, and\noriginal cast of imagination. With these he possesses many external and\ninstrumental advantages; and he makes use of them all. His fortune is\namong the largest; a fortune which, wholly unincumbered, as it is,\nwith one single charge from luxury, vanity, or excess, sinks under the\nbenevolence of its dispenser. This private benevolence, expanding itself\ninto patriotism, renders his whole being the estate of the public, in\nwhich he has not reserved a peculium for himself of profit, diversion,\nor relaxation. During the session, the first in, and the last out of\nthe House of Commons; he passes from the senate to the camp; and, seldom\nseeing the seat of his ancestors, he is always in the senate to serve\nhis country, or in the field to defend it.\n\n\n\n\nCORRUPTION NOT SELF-REFORMED.\n\nThose, who would commit the reformation of India to the destroyers of\nit, are the enemies to that reformation. They would make a distinction\nbetween directors and proprietors, which, in the present state of\nthings, does not, cannot exist. But a right honourable gentleman says,\nhe would keep the present government of India in the court of directors;\nand would, to curb them, provide salutary regulations;--wonderful! That\nis, he would appoint the old offenders to correct the old offences;\nand he would render the vicious and the foolish wise and virtuous,\nby salutary regulations. He would appoint the wolf as guardian of the\nsheep; but he has invented a curious muzzle, by which this protecting\nwolf shall not be able to open his jaws above an inch or two at the\nutmost. Thus his work is finished. But I tell the right honourable\ngentleman, that controlled depravity is not innocence; and that it is\nnot the labour of delinquency in chains that will correct abuses. Will\nthese gentlemen of the direction animadvert on the partners of their\nown guilt? Never did a serious plan of amending any old tyrannical\nestablishment propose the authors and abettors of the abuses as the\nreformers of them.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BRIBED AND THE BRIBERS.\n\nIf I am to speak my private sentiments, I think that in a thousand cases\nfor one it would be far less mischievous to the public, and full as\nlittle dishonourable to themselves, to be polluted with direct bribery,\nthan thus to become a standing auxiliary to the oppression, usury, and\npeculation, of multitudes, in order to obtain a corrupt support to\ntheir power. It is by bribing, not so often by being bribed, that wicked\npoliticians bring ruin on mankind. Avarice is a rival to the pursuits of\nmany. It finds a multitude of checks, and many opposers, in every walk\nof life. But the objects of ambition are for the few; and every person\nwho aims at indirect profit, and therefore wants other protection, than\ninnocence and law, instead of its rival becomes its instrument. There\nis a natural allegiance and fealty do you to this domineering, paramount\nevil, from all the vassal vices, which acknowledge its superiority,\nand readily militate under its banners; and it is under that discipline\nalone that avarice is able to spread to any considerable extent, or to\nrender itself a general, public mischief.\n\n\n\n\nHYDER ALI.\n\nWhen at length Hyder Ali found that he had to do with men who either\nwould sign no convention, or whom no treaty and no signature could bind,\nand who were the determined enemies of human intercourse itself,\nhe decreed to make the country possessed by these incorrigible and\npredestinated criminals a memorable example to mankind. He resolved,\nin the gloomy recesses of a mind capacious of such things, to leave\nthe whole Carnatic an everlasting monument of vengeance, and to put\nperpetual desolation as a barrier between him and those, against whom\nthe faith which holds the moral elements of the world together, was no\nprotection. He became at length so confident of his force, so collected\nin his might, that he made no secret whatsoever of his dreadful\nresolution. Having terminated his disputes with every enemy, and every\nrival, who buried their mutual animosities in their common detestation\nagainst the creditors of the nabob of Arcot, he drew from every quarter\nwhatever a savage ferocity could add to his new rudiments in the arts\nof destruction; and compounding all the materials of fury, havoc, and\ndesolation, into one black cloud, he hung for a while on the declivities\nof the mountains. Whilst the authors of all these evils were idly and\nstupidly gazing on this menacing meteor, which blackened all their\nhorizon, it suddenly burst, and poured down the whole of its contents\nupon the plains of the Carnatic. Then ensued a scene of woe, the like\nof which no eye had seen, no heart conceived, and which no tongue can\nadequately tell. All the horrors of war before known or heard of, were\nmercy to that new havoc. A storm of universal fire blasted every field,\nconsumed every house, destroyed every temple. The miserable inhabitants\nflying from their flaming villages, in part were slaughtered; others,\nwithout regard to sex, to age, to the respect of rank, or sacredness of\nfunction, fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped in\na whirlwind of cavalry, and amidst the goading spears of drivers, and\nthe trampling of pursuing horses, were swept into captivity, in an\nunknown and hostile land. Those who were able to evade the tempest fled\nto the walled cities. But escaping from fire, sword, and exile, they\nfell into the jaws of famine.\n\nThe alms of the settlement in this dreadful exigency, were certainly\nliberal; and all was done by charity that private charity could do;\nbut it was a people in beggary; it was a nation which stretched out its\nhands for food. For months together these creatures of sufferance, whose\nvery excess and luxury in their most plenteous days had fallen short of\nthe allowance of our austerest fasts, silent, patient, resigned, without\nsedition or disturbance, almost without complaint, perished by an\nhundred a day in the streets of Madras; every day seventy at least laid\ntheir bodies in the streets, or on the glacis of Tanjore, and expired\nof famine in the granary of India. I was going to awake your justice\ntowards this unhappy part of our fellow-citizens, by bringing before\nyou some of the circumstances of this plague of hunger. Of all the\ncalamities which beset and waylay the life of man, this comes the\nnearest to our heart, and is that wherein the proudest of us all feels\nhimself to be nothing more than he is: but I find myself unable to\nmanage it with decorum: these details are of a species of horror so\nnauseous and disgusting; they are so degrading to the sufferers and to\nthe hearers; they are so humiliating to human nature itself, that, on\nbetter thoughts, I think it more advisable to throw a pall over this\nhideous object, and to leave it to your general conceptions.\n\n\n\n\nREFORMATION AND ANARCHY CONTRASTED AND COMPARED.\n\nThat the house must perceive, from his coming forward to mark an\nexpression or two of his best friend, how anxious he was to keep the\ndistemper of France from the least countenance in England, where he was\nsure some wicked persons had shown a strong disposition to recommend an\nimitation of the French spirit of reform. He was so strongly opposed to\nany the least tendency towards the MEANS of introducing a democracy like\ntheirs, as well as to the END itself, that much as it would afflict him,\nif such a thing could be attempted, and that any friend of his could\nconcur in such measures (he was far, very far, from believing they\ncould), he would abandon his best friends, and join with his worst\nenemies to oppose either the means or the end; and to resist all violent\nexertions of the spirit of innovation, so distant from all principles of\ntrue and safe reformation; a spirit well calculated to overturn states,\nbut perfectly unfit to amend them.\n\nThat he was no enemy to reformation. Almost every business in which\nhe was much concerned, from the first day he sat in that house to that\nhour, was a business of reformation; and when he had not been employed\nin correcting, he had been employed in resisting, abuses. Some traces\nof this spirit in him now stand on their statute-book. In his opinion,\nanything which unnecessarily tore to pieces the contexture of the state,\nnot only prevented all real reformation, but introduced evils which\nwould call, but perhaps call in vain, for new reformation.\n\nThat he thought the French nation very unwise. What they valued\nthemselves on, was a disgrace to them. They had gloried (and some people\nin England had thought fit to take share in that glory) in making a\nrevolution; as if revolutions were good things in themselves. All\nthe horrors, and all the crimes of the anarchy which led to their\nrevolution, which attend its progress, and which may virtually attend it\nin its establishment, pass for nothing with the lovers of revolutions.\nThe French have made their way, through the destruction of their\ncountry, to a bad constitution, when they were absolutely in possession\nof a good one. They were in possession of it the day the states met in\nseparate orders. Their business, had they been either virtuous or wise,\nor had they been left to their own judgment, was to secure the stability\nand independence of the states, according to those orders, under the\nmonarch on the throne. It was then their duty to redress grievances.\n\nInstead of redressing grievances, and improving the fabric of their\nstate, to which they were called by their monarch, and sent by their\ncountry, they were made to take a very different course. They first\ndestroyed all the balances and counterpoises which serve to fix the\nstate, and to give it a steady direction, and which furnish sure\ncorrectives to any violent spirit which may prevail in any of the\norders. These balances existed in their oldest constitution; and in\nthe constitution of this country; and in the constitution of all the\ncountries in Europe. These they rashly destroyed, and then they melted\ndown the whole into one incongruous, ill-connected mass.\n\nWhen they had done this, they instantly, and with the most atrocious\nperfidy and breach of all faith among men, laid the axe to the root\nof all property, and consequently of all national prosperity, by the\nprinciples they established, and the example they set, in confiscating\nall the possessions of the church. They made and recorded a sort of\nINSTITUTE and DIGEST of anarchy, called the rights of man, in such a\npedantic abuse of elementary principles as would have disgraced boys\nat school; but this declaration of rights was worse than trifling and\npedantic in them, as by their name and authority they systematically\ndestroyed every hold of authority by opinion, religious or civil, on the\nminds of the people. By this mad declaration they subverted the state,\nand brought on such calamities as no country, without a long war, has\never been known to suffer; and which may in the end produce such a war,\nand perhaps many such.\n\nWith them the question was not between despotism and liberty. The\nsacrifice they made of the peace and power of their country was not made\non the altar of freedom. Freedom, and a better security for freedom than\nthat they have taken, they might have had without any sacrifice at all.\nThey brought themselves into all the calamities they suffer, not that\nthrough them they might obtain a British constitution; they plunged\nthemselves headlong into those calamities to prevent themselves from\nsettling into that constitution, or into anything resembling it.\n\n\n\n\nCONFIDENCE AND JEALOUSY.\n\nConfidence might become a vice, and jealousy a virtue, according to\ncircumstances. That confidence, of all public virtues, was the most\ndangerous, and jealousy in a house of commons, of all public vices, the\nmost tolerable; especially where the number and the charge of standing\narmies in time of peace was the question.\n\n\n\n\nECONOMY OF INJUSTICE.\n\nStrange as this scheme of conduct in ministry is, and inconsistent with\nall just policy, it is still true to itself, and faithful to its own\nperverted order. Those who are bountiful to crimes, will be rigid to\nmerit, and penurious to service. Their penury is even held out as a\nblind and cover to their prodigality. The economy of injustice is, to\nfurnish resources for the fund of corruption. Then they pay off their\nprotection to great crimes and great criminals by being inexorable to\nthe paltry frailties of little men; and these modern flagellants\nare sure, with a rigid fidelity, to whip their own enormities on the\nvicarious back of every small offender.\n\n\n\n\nSUBSISTENCE AND REVENUE.\n\nThe benefits of heaven to any community ought never to be connected with\npolitical arrangements, or made to depend on the personal conduct of\nprinces; in which the mistake, or error, or neglect, or distress, or\npassion of a moment on either side, may bring famine on millions, and\nruin an innocent nation perhaps for ages. The means of the subsistence\nof mankind should be as immutable as the laws of nature, let power and\ndominion take what course they may.\n\n\n\n\nAUTHORITY AND VENALITY.\n\nIt is difficult for the most wise and upright government to correct the\nabuses of remote, delegated power, productive of unmeasured wealth, and\nprotected by the boldness and strength of the same ill-got riches. These\nabuses, full of their own wild native vigour, will grow and flourish\nunder mere neglect. But where the supreme authority, not content with\nwinking at the rapacity of its inferior instruments, is so shameless and\ncorrupt as openly to give bounties and premiums for disobedience to its\nlaws, when it will not trust to the activity of avarice in the pursuit\nof its own gains, when it secures public robbery by all the careful\njealousy and attention with which it ought to protect property from such\nviolence, the commonwealth then is become totally perverted from its\npurposes; neither God nor man will long endure it; nor will it\nlong endure itself. In that case there is an unnatural infection, a\npestilential taint fermenting in the constitution of society, which\nfever and convulsions of some kind or other must throw off; or in which\nthe vital powers, worsted in an unequal struggle, are pushed back upon\nthemselves, and, by a reversal of their whole functions, fester to\ngangrene, to death; and instead of what was but just now the delight and\nboast of the creation, there will be cast out in the face of the sun\na bloated, putrid, noisome carcass, full of stench, and poison, an\noffence, a horror, a lesson to the world.\n\n\n\n\nPREROGATIVE OF THE CROWN AND PRIVILEGE OF PARLIAMENT.\n\nIt is the undoubted prerogative of the crown to dissolve parliament; but\nwe beg leave to lay before his majesty, that it is, of all the trusts\nvested in his majesty, the most critical and delicate, and that in which\nthis house has the most reason to require, not only the good faith, but\nthe favour of the crown. His commons are not always upon a par with his\nministers in an application to popular judgment: it is not in the power\nof the members of this house to go to their election at the moment the\nmost favourable to them. It is in the power of the crown to choose a\ntime for their dissolution whilst great and arduous matters of state and\nlegislation are depending, which may be easily misunderstood, and which\ncannot be fully explained before that misunderstanding may prove fatal\nto the honour that belongs, and to the consideration that is due, to\nmembers of parliament. With his majesty is the gift of all the rewards,\nthe honours, distinctions, favour, and graces of the state; with his\nmajesty is the mitigation of all the rigours of the law: and we rejoice\nto see the crown possessed of trusts calculated to obtain goodwill, and\ncharged with duties which are popular and pleasing. Our trusts are of a\ndifferent kind. Our duties are harsh and invidious in their nature; and\njustice and safety is all we can expect in the exercise of them. We\nare to offer salutary, which is not always pleasing, counsel; we are to\ninquire and to accuse: and the objects of our inquiry and charge will be\nfor the most part persons of wealth, power, and extensive connections:\nwe are to make rigid laws for the preservation of revenue, which of\nnecessity more or less confine some action, or restrain some function,\nwhich before was free: what is the most critical and invidious of all,\nthe whole body of the public impositions originate from us, and the hand\nof the House of Commons is seen and felt in every burthen that presses\non the people. Whilst, ultimately, we are serving them, and in the first\ninstance whilst we are serving his majesty, it will be hard, indeed, if\nwe should see a House of Commons the victim of its zeal and fidelity,\nsacrificed by his ministers to those very popular discontents, which\nshall be excited by our dutiful endeavours for the security and\ngreatness of his throne. No other consequence can result from such\nan example, but that, in future, the House of Commons, consulting its\nsafety at the expense of its duties, and suffering the whole energy of\nthe state to be relaxed, will shrink from every service, which, however\nnecessary, is of a great and arduous nature; or that, willing to provide\nfor the public necessities, and, at the same time, to secure the means\nof performing that task, they will exchange independence for protection,\nand will court a subservient existence through the favour of those\nministers of state, or those secret advisers, who ought themselves to\nstand in awe of the commons of this realm.\n\nA House of Commons respected by his ministers is essential to his\nmajesty's service: it is fit that they should yield to parliament, and\nnot that parliament should be new modelled until it is fitted to their\npurposes. If our authority is only to be held up when we coincide in\nopinion with his majesty's advisers, but is to be set at nought the\nmoment it differs from them, the House of Commons will sink into a mere\nappendage of administration; and will lose that independent character\nwhich, inseparably connecting the honour and reputation with the acts\nof this house, enables us to afford a real, effective, and substantial\nsupport to his government. It is the deference shown to our opinion\nwhen we dissent from the servants of the crown, which alone can give\nauthority to the proceedings of this house when it concurs with their\nmeasures.\n\nThat authority once lost, the credit of his majesty's crown will be\nimpaired in the eyes of all nations. Foreign powers, who may yet wish\nto revive a friendly intercourse with this nation, will look in vain for\nthat hold which gave a connection with Great Britain the preference to\nan alliance with any other state. A House of Commons, of which ministers\nwere known to stand in awe, where everything was necessarily discussed,\non principles fit to be openly and publicly avowed, and which could not\nbe retracted or varied without danger, furnished a ground of confidence\nin the public faith, which the engagement of no state dependent on the\nfluctuation of personal favour, and private advice, can ever pretend to.\nIf faith with the House of Commons, the grand security for the national\nfaith itself, can be broken with impunity, a wound is given to the\npolitical importance of Great Britain, which will not easily be healed.\n\n\n\n\nBURKE AND FOX.\n\nHis confidence in Mr. Fox was such, and so ample, as to be almost\nimplicit. That he was not ashamed to avow that degree of docility. That\nwhen the choice is well made, it strengthens instead of oppressing\nour intellect. That he who calls in the aid of an equal understanding\ndoubles his own. He who profits of a superior understanding raises\nhis powers to a level with the height of the superior understanding he\nunites with. He had found the benefit of such a junction, and would not\nlightly depart from it. He wished almost, on all occasions, that his\nsentiments were understood to be conveyed in Mr. Fox's words; and he\nwished, as amongst the greatest benefits he could wish the country, an\neminent share of power to that right honourable gentleman; because he\nknew, that, to his great and masterly understanding, he had joined the\ngreatest possible degree of that natural moderation, which is the best\ncorrective of power; that he was of the most artless, candid, open, and\nbenevolent disposition; disinterested in the extreme; of a temper mild\nand placable even to a fault; without one drop of gall in his whole\nconstitution.\n\n\n\n\nPEERS AND COMMONS.\n\nThe commons have the deepest interest in the purity and integrity of the\npeerage. The peers dispose of all the property in the kingdom, in the\nlast resort; and they dispose of it on their honour and not on their\noaths, as all the members of every other tribunal in the kingdom must\ndo; though in them the proceeding is not conclusive. We have, therefore,\na right to demand that no application shall be made to peers of such a\nnature as may give room to call in question, much less to attaint, our\nsole security for all that we possess. This corrupt proceeding appeared\nto the House of Commons, who are the natural guardians of the purity\nof parliament, and of the purity of every branch of judicature, a\nmost reprehensible and dangerous practice, tending to shake the very\nfoundation of the authority of the House of Peers: and they branded it\nas such by their resolution.\n\n\n\n\nNATURAL SELF-DESTRUCTION.\n\nThe French had shown themselves the ablest architects of ruin that had\nhitherto existed in the world. In that very short space of time they had\ncompletely pulled down to the ground their monarchy, their church,\ntheir nobility, their law, their revenue, their army, their navy,\ntheir commerce, their arts, and their manufactures. They had done\ntheir business for us as rivals, in a way in which twenty Ramilies or\nBlenheims could never have done it. Were we absolute conquerors, and\nFrance to lie prostrate at our feet, we should be ashamed to send a\ncommission to settle their affairs which could impose so hard a law upon\nthe French, and so destructive of all their consequence as a nation, as\nthat they had imposed on themselves.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CARNATIC.\n\nThe Carnatic is a country not much inferior in extent to England. Figure\nto yourself, Mr. Speaker, the land in whose representative chair you\nsit; figure to yourself the form and fashion of your sweet and cheerful\ncountry from Thames to Trent, north and south, and from the Irish to the\nGerman sea east and west, emptied and embowelled (may God avert the omen\nof our crimes!) by so accomplished a desolation. Extend your imagination\na little further, and then suppose your ministers taking a survey of\nthis scene of waste and desolation; what would be your thoughts if\nyou should be informed, that they were computing how much had been\nthe amount of the excises, how much the customs, how much the land\nand malt-tax, in order that they should charge (take it in the most\nfavourable light) for public service, upon the relics of the satiated\nvengeance of relentless enemies, the whole of what England had yielded\nin the most exuberant seasons of peace and abundance? What would you\ncall it? To call it tyranny sublimed into madness, would be too faint an\nimage; yet this very madness is the principle upon which the ministers\nat your right hand have proceeded in their estimate of the revenues\nof the Carnatic, when they were providing, not supply for the\nestablishments of its protection, but, rewards for the authors of its\nruin.\n\nEvery day you are fatigued and disgusted with this cant, \"the Carnatic\nis a country that will soon recover, and become instantly as prosperous\nas ever.\" They think they are talking to innocents, who will believe\nthat, by sowing of dragons' teeth, men may come up ready grown and ready\narmed. They who will give themselves the trouble of considering (for\nit requires no great reach of thought, no very profound knowledge) the\nmanner in which mankind are increased, and countries cultivated, will\nregard all this raving as it ought to be regarded. In order that\nthe people, after a long period of vexation and plunder, may be in a\ncondition to maintain government, government must begin by maintaining\nthem. Here the road to economy lies not through receipt, but through\nexpense; and in that country nature has given no short cut to your\nobject. Men must propagate like other animals, by the mouth. Never did\noppression light the nuptial torch; never did extortion and usury spread\nout the genial bed. Does any one of you think that England, so wasted,\nwould, under such a nursing attendance, so rapidly and cheaply recover?\nBut he is meanly acquainted with either England or India, who does\nnot know that England would a thousand times sooner resume population,\nfertility, and what ought to be the ultimate secretion from\nboth--revenue, than such a country as the Carnatic. The Carnatic is not\nby the bounty of nature a fertile soil. The general size of its cattle\nis proof enough that it is much otherwise. It is some days since I\nmoved, that a curious and interesting map, kept in the India house,\nshould be laid before you. The India House is not yet in readiness to\nsend it; I have therefore brought down my own copy, and there it lies\nfor the use of any gentleman who may think such a matter worthy of his\nattention. It is indeed a noble map, and of noble things; but it is\ndecisive against the golden dreams and sanguine speculations of avarice\nrun mad. In addition to what you know must be the case in every part of\nthe world (the necessity of a previous provision of habitation, seed,\nstock, capital), that map will show you, that the uses of the influences\nof Heaven itself are in that country a work of art. The Carnatic is\nrefreshed by few or no living brooks or running streams, and it has\nrain only at a season; but its product of rice exacts the use of water\nsubject to perpetual command. This is the national bank of the Carnatic,\non which it must have a perpetual credit, or it perishes irretrievably.\nFor that reason, in the happier times of India, a number, almost\nincredible, of reservoirs have been made in chosen places throughout the\nwhole country; they are formed for the greater part of mounds of earth\nand stones, with sluices of solid masonry; the whole constructed with\nadmirable skill and labour, and maintained at a mighty charge. In the\nterritory contained in that map alone, I have been at the trouble of\nreckoning the reservoirs, and they amount to upwards of eleven hundred,\nfrom the extent of two or three acres to five miles in circuit. From\nthese reservoirs currents are occasionally drawn over the fields, and\nthese watercourses again call for a considerable expense to keep them\nproperly scoured and duly leveled. Taking the district in that map as\na measure, there cannot be in the Carnatic and Tanjore fewer than ten\nthousand of these reservoirs of the larger and middling dimensions, to\nsay nothing of those for domestic services, and the uses of religious\npurification. These are not the enterprises of your power, nor in a\nstyle of magnificence suited to the taste of your minister. These are\nthe monuments of real kings, who were the fathers of their people;\ntestators to a posterity which they embraced as their own. These were\nthe grand sepulchres built by ambition; but by the ambition of an\ninsatiable benevolence, which, not contented with reigning in the\ndispensation of happiness during the contracted term of human life, had\nstrained, with all the reachings and graspings of a vivacious mind, to\nextend the dominion of their bounty beyond the limits of nature, and to\nperpetuate themselves through generations of generations, the guardians,\nthe protectors, the nourishers of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nABSTRACT THEORY OF HUMAN LIBERTY.\n\nI love a manly, moral, regulated liberty as well as any gentleman of\nthat society, be he who he will: and perhaps I have given as good proofs\nof my attachment to that cause in the whole course of my public conduct.\nI think I envy liberty as little as they do, to any other nation. But I\ncannot stand forward, and give praise or blame to anything which relates\nto human actions, and human concerns, on a simple view of the object, as\nit stands stripped of every relation, in all the nakedness and solitude\nof metaphysical abstraction. Circumstances (which with some gentlemen\npass for nothing) give in reality to every political principle its\ndistinguishing colour and discriminating effect. The circumstances are\nwhat render every civil and political scheme beneficial or noxious to\nmankind. Abstractedly speaking, government, as well as liberty, is good;\nyet could I, in common sense, ten years ago, have felicitated France on\nher enjoyment of a government (for she then had a government)\nwithout inquiry what the nature of that government was, or how it was\nadministered? Can I now congratulate the same nation upon its freedom?\nIs it because liberty in the abstract may be classed amongst the\nblessings of mankind that I am seriously to felicitate a madman, who\nhas escaped from the protecting restraint and wholesome darkness of his\ncell, on his restoration to the enjoyment of light and liberty? Am I to\ncongratulate a highwayman and murderer, who has broken prison, upon\nthe recovery of his natural rights? This would be to act over again\nthe scene of the criminals condemned to the galleys, and their heroic\ndeliverer, the metaphysic knight of the sorrowful countenance. When I\nsee the spirit of liberty in action, I see a strong principle at work;\nand this, for a while, is all I can possibly know of it. The wild GAS,\nthe fixed air, is plainly broke loose: but we ought to suspend our\njudgment until the first effervescence is a little subsided, till the\nliquor is cleared, and until we see something deeper than the agitation\nof a troubled and frothy surface. I must be tolerably sure, before I\nventure publicly to congratulate men upon a blessing, that they have\nreally received one. Flattery corrupts both the receiver and the giver;\nand adulation is not of more service to the people than to kings.\nI should therefore suspend my congratulations on the new liberty of\nFrance, until I was informed how it had been combined with government;\nwith public force; with the discipline and obedience of armies; with the\ncollection of an effective and well-distributed revenue; with morality\nand religion; with solidity and property; with peace and order; with\ncivil and social manners. All these (in their way) are good things too;\nand, without them, liberty is not a benefit whilst it lasts, and is not\nlikely to continue long. The effect of liberty to individuals, is, that\nthey may do what they please: we ought to see what it will please them\nto do before we risk congratulations, which may be soon turned into\ncomplaints. Prudence would dictate this in the case of separate,\ninsulated, private men; but liberty, when men act in bodies, is POWER.\nConsiderate people, before they declare themselves, will observe the\nuse which is made of POWER; and particularly of so trying a thing as NEW\npower in NEW persons, of whose principles, tempers, and dispositions,\nthey have little or no experience, and in situations where those who\nappear the most stirring in the scene may possibly not be the real\nmovers.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICS AND THE PULPIT.\n\nSupposing, however, that something like moderation were visible in this\npolitical sermon; yet politics and the pulpit are terms that have little\nagreement. No sound ought to be heard in the church but the healing\nvoice of Christian charity. The cause of civil liberty and civil\ngovernment gains as little as that of religion by this confusion of\nduties. Those who quit their proper character to assume what does\nnot belong to them, are, for the greater part, ignorant both of\nthe character they leave, and of the character they assume. Wholly\nunacquainted with the world in which they are so fond of meddling, and\ninexperienced in all its affairs, on which they pronounce with so much\nconfidence, they have nothing of politics but the passions they excite.\nSurely the church is a place where one day's truce ought to be allowed\nto the dissensions and animosities of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nIDEA OF FRENCH REVOLUTION.\n\nIt appears to me as if I were in a great crisis, not of the affairs\nof France alone, but of all Europe, perhaps of more than Europe.\nAll circumstances taken together, the French revolution is the most\nastonishing that has hitherto happened in the world. The most wonderful\nthings are brought about in many instances by means the most absurd and\nridiculous; in the most ridiculous modes; and, apparently, by the most\ncontemptible instruments. Everything seems out of nature in this\nstrange chaos of levity and ferocity, and of all sorts of crimes\njumbled together with all sorts of follies. In viewing this monstrous\ntragi-comic scene, the most opposite passions necessarily succeed,\nand sometimes mix with each other in the mind; alternate contempt and\nindignation; alternate laughter and tears; alternate scorn and horror.\n\n\n\n\nPATRIOTIC DISTINCTION.\n\nI certainly have the honour to belong to more clubs than one in which\nthe constitution of this kingdom and the principles of the glorious\nRevolution are held in high reverence; and I reckon myself among the\nmost forward in my zeal for maintaining that constitution and those\nprinciples in their utmost purity and vigour. It is because I do so that\nI think it necessary for me that there should be no mistake. Those who\ncultivate the memory of our revolution, and those who are attached\nto the constitution of this kingdom, will take good care how they\nare involved with persons, who, under the pretext of zeal towards the\nRevolution and constitution, too frequently wander from their true\nprinciples; and are ready on every occasion to depart from the firm\nbut cautious and deliberate spirit which produced the one, and which\npresides in the other.\n\n\n\n\nKINGLY POWER NOT BASED ON POPULAR CHOICE.\n\nAccording to this spiritual doctor of politics, if his majesty does not\nowe his crown to the choice of his people, he is no LAWFUL KING. Now\nnothing can be more untrue than that the crown of this kingdom is so\nheld by his majesty. Therefore, if you follow their rule, the king of\nGreat Britain, who most certainly does not owe his high office to any\nform of popular election, is in no respect better than the rest of the\ngang of usurpers, who reign, or rather rob, all over the face of\nthis our miserable world, without any sort of right or title to the\nallegiance of their people. The policy of this general doctrine, so\nqualified, is evident enough. The propagators of this political gospel\nare in hopes that their abstract principle (their principle that a\npopular choice is necessary to the legal existence of the sovereign\nmagistracy) would be overlooked, whilst the king of Great Britain was\nnot affected by it. In the mean time the ears of their congregations\nwould be gradually habituated to it, as if it were a first principle\nadmitted without dispute. For the present it would only operate as a\ntheory, pickled in the preserving juices of pulpit eloquence, and laid\nby for future use. Condo et compono quae mox depromere possim. By this\npolicy, whilst our government is soothed with a reservation in its\nfavour to which it has no claim, the security, which it has in common\nwith all governments, so far as opinion is security, is taken away.\n\nThus these politicians proceed, whilst little notice is taken of their\ndoctrines; but when they come to be examined upon the plain meaning\nof their words, and the direct tendency of their doctrines, then\nequivocations and slippery construction come into play. When they say\nthe king owes his crown to the choice of his people, and is, therefore,\nthe only lawful sovereign in the world, they will perhaps tell us they\nmean to say no more than that some of the king's predecessors have been\ncalled to the throne by some sort of choice; and therefore he owes his\ncrown to the choice of his people. Thus, by a miserable subterfuge, they\nhope to render their proposition safe by rendering it nugatory. They\nare welcome to the asylum they seek for their offence, since they take\nrefuge in their folly. For, if you admit this interpretation, how does\ntheir idea of election differ from our idea of inheritance? And how does\nthe settlement of the crown in the Brunswick line derived from James\nI. come to legalize our monarchy, rather than that of any of the\nneighbouring countries? At some time or other, to be sure, all the\nbeginners of dynasties were chosen by those who called them to govern.\nThere is ground enough for the opinion that all the kingdoms of Europe\nwere, at a remote period, elective, with more or fewer limitations\nin the objects of choice. But whatever kings might have been here\nor elsewhere a thousand years ago, or in whatever manner the ruling\ndynasties of England or France may have begun, the king of Great Britain\nis, at this day, king by a fixed rule of succession, according to the\nlaws of his country; and whilst the legal conditions of the compact of\nsovereignty are performed by him (as they are performed), he holds his\ncrown in contempt of the choice of the Revolution Society, who have\nnot a single vote for a king amongst them, either individually or\ncollectively; though I make no doubt they would soon erect themselves\ninto an electoral college, if things were ripe to give effect to their\nclaim. His majesty's heirs and successors, each in his time and order,\nwill come to the crown with the same contempt of their choice with which\nhis majesty has succeeded to that he wears.\n\nWhatever may be the success of evasion in explaining away the gross\nerror of FACT, which supposes that his majesty (though he holds it in\nconcurrence with the wishes) owes his crown to the choice of his people,\nyet nothing can evade their full explicit declaration concerning the\nprinciple of a right in the people to choose; which right is directly\nmaintained, and tenaciously adhered to. All the oblique insinuations\nconcerning election bottom in this proposition, and are referable to it.\nLest the foundation of the king's exclusive legal title should pass\nfor a mere rant of adulatory freedom, the political divine proceeds\ndogmatically to assert, that, by the principles of the Revolution, the\npeople of England have acquired three fundamental rights, all of which,\nwith him, compose one system, and lie together in one short sentence;\nnamely, that we have acquired a right,\n\n1. \"To choose our own governors.\"\n\n2. \"To cashier them for misconduct.\"\n\n3. \"To frame a government for ourselves.\"\n\nThis new, and hitherto unheard of, bill of rights, though made in the\nname of the whole people, belongs to those gentlemen and their faction\nonly. The body of the people of England have no share in it. They\nutterly disclaim it. They will resist the practical assertion of it with\ntheir lives and fortunes. They are bound to do so by the laws of their\ncountry, made at the time of that very Revolution which is appealed to\nin favour of the fictitious rights claimed by the society which abuses\nits name.\n\n\n\n\nPREACHING DEMOCRACY OF DISSENT.\n\nIf the noble SEEKERS should find nothing to satisfy their pious fancies\nin the old staple of the national church, or in all the rich variety\nto be found in the well-assorted warehouses of the dissenting\ncongregations, Dr. Price advises them to improve upon non-conformity;\nand to set up, each of them, a separate meeting-house upon his own\nparticular principles. It is somewhat remarkable that this reverend\ndivine should be so earnest for setting up new churches, and so\nperfectly indifferent concerning the doctrine which may be taught in\nthem. His zeal is of a curious character. It is not for the propagation\nof his own opinions, but of any opinions. It is not for the diffusion\nof truth, but for the spreading of contradiction. Let the noble teachers\nbut dissent, it is no matter from whom or from what. This great point\nonce secured, it is taken for granted their religion will be rational\nand manly. I doubt whether religion would reap all the benefits which\nthe calculating divine computes from this \"great company of great\npreachers.\" It would certainly be a valuable addition of nondescripts\nto the ample collection of known classes, genera and species, which at\npresent beautify the hortus siccus of dissent. A sermon from a noble\nduke, or a noble marquis, or a noble earl, or baron bold, would\ncertainly increase and diversify the amusements of this town,\nwhich begins to grow satiated with the uniform round of its vapid\ndissipations. I should only stipulate that these new Mess-Johns in\nrobes and coronets should keep some sort of bounds in the democratic and\nlevelling principles which are expected from their titled pulpits.\nThe new evangelists will, I dare say, disappoint the hopes that\nare conceived of them. They will not become, literally as well as\nfiguratively, polemic divines, nor be disposed so to drill their\ncongregations, that they may, as in former blessed times, preach their\ndoctrines to regiments of dragoons and corps of infantry and artillery.\nSuch arrangements, however favourable to the cause of compulsory\nfreedom, civil and religious, may not be equally conducive to the\nnational tranquillity. These few restrictions I hope are no great\nstretches of intolerance, no very violent exertions of despotism.\n\n\n\n\nJARGON OF REPUBLICANISM.\n\nDr. Price, in this sermon, condemns very properly the practice of gross,\nadulatory addresses to kings. Instead of this fulsome style, he proposes\nthat his majesty should be told, on occasions of congratulation,\nthat \"he is to consider himself as more properly the servant than the\nsovereign of his people.\" For a compliment, this new form of address\ndoes not seem to be very soothing. Those who are servants in name, as\nwell as in effect, do not like to be told of their situation, their duty\nand their obligations. The slave, in the old play, tells his master,\n\"Haec commemoratio est quasi exprobatio.\" It is not pleasant as\ncompliment; it is not wholesome as instruction. After all, if the king\nwere to bring himself to echo this new kind of address, to adopt it in\nterms, and even to take the appellation of Servant of the People as his\nroyal style, how either he or we should be much mended by it, I cannot\nimagine. I have seen very assuming letters, signed, Your most obedient,\nhumble servant. The proudest denomination that ever was endured on earth\ntook a title of still greater humility than that which is now proposed\nfor sovereigns by the Apostle of Liberty. Kings and nations were\ntrampled upon by the foot of one calling himself \"the Servant of\nServants;\" and mandates for deposing sovereigns were sealed with the\nsignet of \"the Fisherman.\"\n\nI should have considered all this as no more than a sort of flippant,\nvain discourse, in which, as in an unsavoury fume, several persons\nsuffer the spirit of liberty to evaporate, if it were not plainly in\nsupport of the idea, and a part of the scheme, of \"cashiering kings for\nmisconduct.\" In that light it is worth some observation.\n\nKings, in one sense, are undoubtedly the servants of the people,\nbecause their power has no other rational end than that of the general\nadvantage; but it is not true that they are, in the ordinary sense (by\nour constitution at least), anything like servants; the essence of whose\nsituation is to obey the commands of some other, and to be removable at\npleasure. But the king of Great Britain obeys no other person; all other\npersons are individually, and collectively too, under him, and owe to\nhim a legal obedience. The law, which knows neither to flatter nor to\ninsult, calls this high magistrate, not our servant, as this humble\ndivine calls him, but \"OUR SOVEREIGN LORD THE KING;\" and we, on our\nparts, have learned to speak only the primitive language of the law, and\nnot the confused jargon of their Babylonian pulpits.\n\n\n\n\nCONSERVATIVE PROGRESS OF INHERITED FREEDOM.\n\nThe policy appears to me to be the result of profound reflection; or\nrather the happy effect of following nature, which is wisdom without\nreflection, and above it. A spirit of innovation is generally the result\nof a selfish temper, and confined views. People will not look forward\nto posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors. Besides, the\npeople of England well know that the idea of inheritance furnishes a\nsure principle of conservation, and a sure principle of transmission,\nwithout at all excluding a principle of improvement. It leaves\nacquisition free; but it secures what it acquires. Whatever advantages\nare obtained by a state proceeding on these maxims, are locked fast as\nin a sort of family settlement; grasped as in a kind of mortmain for\never. By a constitutional policy working after the pattern of nature, we\nreceive, we hold, we transmit our government and our privileges, in the\nsame manner in which we enjoy and transmit our property and our\nlives. The institutions of policy, the goods of fortune, the gifts of\nProvidence, are handed down to us, and from us, in the same course\nand order. Our political system is placed in a just correspondence and\nsymmetry with the order of the world, and with the mode of existence\ndecreed to a permanent body composed of transitory parts; wherein, by\nthe disposition of a stupendous wisdom, moulding together the great\nmysterious incorporation of the human race, the whole, at one time, is\nnever old, or middle-aged, or young, but, in a condition of unchangeable\nconstancy, moves on through the varied tenour of perpetual decay, fall,\nrenovation, and progression. Thus, by preserving the method of nature in\nthe conduct of the state, in what we improve, we are never wholly new;\nin what we retain, we are never wholly obsolete. By adhering in this\nmanner and on those principles to our forefathers, we are guided not\nby the superstition of antiquarians, but by the spirit of philosophic\nanalogy. In this choice of inheritance we have given to our frame of\npolity the image of a relation in blood; binding up the constitution\nof our country with our dearest domestic ties; adopting our fundamental\nlaws into the bosom of our family affections; keeping inseparable, and\ncherishing with the warmth of all their combined and mutually reflected\ncharities, our state, our hearths, our sepulchres, and our altars.\n\nThrough the same plan of a conformity to nature in our artificial\ninstitutions, and by calling in the aid of her unerring and powerful\ninstincts to fortify the fallible and feeble contrivances of our\nreason, we have derived several other, and those no small benefits, from\nconsidering our liberties in the light of an inheritance. Always acting\nas if in the presence of canonized forefathers, the spirit of freedom,\nleading in itself to misrule and excess, is tempered with an awful\ngravity. This idea of a liberal descent inspires us with a sense of\nhabitual native dignity, which prevents that upstart insolence almost\ninevitably adhering to and disgracing those who are the first acquirers\nof any distinction. By this means our liberty becomes a noble freedom.\nIt carries an imposing and majestic aspect. It has a pedigree and\nillustrating ancestors. It has its bearings and its ensigns armorial. It\nhas its gallery of portraits; its monumental inscriptions; its records,\nevidences, and titles. We procure reverence to our civil institutions on\nthe principle upon which nature teaches us to revere individual men;\non account of their age, and on account of those from whom they are\ndescended. All your sophisters cannot produce anything better adapted\nto preserve a rational and manly freedom than the course that we have\npursued, who have chosen our nature rather than our speculations, our\nbreasts rather than our inventions, for the great conservatories and\nmagazines of our rights and privileges.\n\n\n\n\nCONSERVATION AND CORRECTION.\n\nA state without the means of some change is without the means of its\nconservation. Without such means it might even risk the loss of that\npart of the constitution which it wished the most religiously to\npreserve. The two principles of conservation and correction operated\nstrongly at the two critical periods of the Restoration and Revolution,\nwhen England found itself without a king. At both those periods the\nnation had lost the bond of union in their ancient edifice; they did\nnot, however, dissolve the whole fabric. On the contrary, in both cases\nthey regenerated the deficient part of the old constitution through the\nparts which were not impaired. They kept these old parts exactly as they\nwere, that the part recovered might be suited to them. They acted by the\nancient organized states in the shape of their old organization, and not\nby the organic moleculae of a disbanded people. At no time, perhaps,\ndid the sovereign legislature manifest a more tender regard to that\nfundamental principle of British constitutional policy than at the time\nof the Revolution, when it deviated from the direct line of hereditary\nsuccession. The crown was carried somewhat out of the line in which it\nhad before moved; but the new line was derived from the same stock. It\nwas still a line of hereditary descent; still an hereditary descent\nin the same blood, though an hereditary descent qualified with\nProtestantism. When the legislature altered the direction, but kept the\nprinciple, they showed that they held it inviolable.\n\n\n\n\nHEREDITARY SUCCESSION OF ENGLISH CROWN.\n\nUnquestionably there was at the Revolution, in the person of King\nWilliam, a small and a temporary deviation from the strict order of a\nregular hereditary succession; but it is against all genuine principles\nof jurisprudence to draw a principle from a law made in a special case,\nand regarding an individual person. Privilegium non transit in exemplum.\nIf ever there was a time favourable for establishing the principle, that\na king of popular choice was the only legal king, without all doubt it\nwas at the Revolution. Its not being done at that time is a proof that\nthe nation was of opinion it ought not to be done at any time. There is\nno person so completely ignorant of our history as not to know that\nthe majority in parliament of both parties were so little disposed to\nanything resembling that principle, that at first they were determined\nto place the vacant crown, not on the head of the prince of Orange, but\non that of his wife Mary, daughter of King James, the eldest born of the\nissue of that king, which they acknowledged as undoubtedly his. It would\nbe to repeat a very trite story, to recall to your memory all those\ncircumstances which demonstrated that their accepting King William was\nnot properly a CHOICE; but to all those who did not wish, in effect,\nto recall King James, or to deluge their country in blood, and again to\nbring their religion, laws, and liberties into the peril they had just\nescaped, it was an act of NECESSITY, in the strictest moral sense in\nwhich necessity can be taken.\n\nSo far is it from being true, that we acquired a right by the Revolution\nto elect our kings, that if we had possessed it before, the English\nnation did at that time most solemnly renounce and abdicate it, for\nthemselves, and for all their posterity for ever. These gentlemen may\nvalue themselves as much as they please on their Whig principles; but\nI never desire to be thought a better Whig than Lord Somers; or to\nunderstand the principles of the Revolution better than those by whom it\nwas brought about; or to read in the Declaration of Right any mysteries\nunknown to those whose penetrating style has engraved in our ordinances,\nand in our hearts, the words and spirit of that immortal law.\n\nIt is true that, aided with the powers derived from force and\nopportunity, the nation was at that time, in some sense, free to take\nwhat course it pleased for filling the throne; but only free to do so\nupon the same grounds on which they might have wholly abolished their\nmonarchy, and every other part of their constitution.\n\nHowever, they did not think such bold changes within their commission.\nIt is indeed difficult, perhaps impossible, to give limits to the mere\nABSTRACT competence of the supreme power, such as was exercised\nby parliament at that time; but the limits of a MORAL competence,\nsubjecting, even in powers more indisputably sovereign, occasional will\nto permanent reason, and to the steady maxims of faith, justice, and\nfixed fundamental policy, are perfectly intelligible, and perfectly\nbinding upon those who exercise any authority, under any name, or\nunder any title, in the state. The House of Lords, for instance, is\nnot morally competent to dissolve the House of Commons; no, nor even\nto dissolve itself, nor to abdicate, if it would, its portion in the\nlegislature of the kingdom. Though a king may abdicate for his own\nperson, he cannot abdicate for the monarchy. By as strong, or by a\nstronger reason, the House of Commons cannot renounce its share of\nauthority. The engagement and pact of society, which generally goes by\nthe name of the constitution, forbids such invasion and such surrender.\nThe constituent parts of a state are obliged to hold their public faith\nwith each other, and with all those who derive any serious interest\nunder their engagements, as much as the whole state is bound to keep its\nfaith with separate communities. Otherwise competence and power would\nsoon be confounded, and no law be left but the will of a prevailing\nforce. On this principle the succession of the crown has always been\nwhat it now is, an hereditary succession by law: in the old line it was\na succession by the common law; in the new by the statute law, operating\non the principles of the common law, not changing the substance, but\nregulating the mode and describing the persons. Both these descriptions\nof law are of the same force, and are derived from an equal authority,\nemanating from the common agreement and original compact of the state,\ncommuni sponsione reipublicae, and as such are equally binding on king\npeople too, as long as the terms are observed, and they continue the\nsame body politic.\n\n\n\n\nLIMITS OF LEGISLATIVE CAPACITY.\n\nIf we were to know nothing of this assembly but by its title and\nfunction, no colours could paint to the imagination anything more\nvenerable. In that light the mind of an inquirer, subdued by such an\nawful image as that of the virtue and wisdom of a whole people collected\ninto one focus, would pause and hesitate in condemning things even of\nthe very worst aspect. Instead of blameable, they would appear\nonly mysterious. But no name, no power, no function, no artificial\ninstitution whatsoever, can make the men of whom any system of authority\nis composed, any other than God, and nature, and education, and their\nhabits of life have made them. Capacities beyond these the people have\nnot to give. Virtue and wisdom may be the objects of their choice; but\ntheir choice confers neither the one nor the other on those upon whom\nthey lay their ordaining hands. They have not the engagement of nature,\nthey have not the promise of revelation, for any such power.\n\n\n\n\nOUR CONSTITUTION, NOT FABRICATED, BUT INHERITED.\n\nThe Revolution was made to preserve our ANCIENT, indisputable laws and\nliberties, and that ANCIENT constitution of government which is our only\nsecurity for law and liberty. If you are desirous of knowing the spirit\nof our constitution, and the policy which predominated in that great\nperiod which has secured it to this hour, pray look for both in our\nhistories, in our records, in our acts of parliament, and journals\nof parliament, and not in the sermons of the Old Jewry, and the\nafter-dinner toasts of the Revolution Society. In the former you will\nfind other ideas and another language. Such a claim is as ill suited\nto our temper and wishes as it is unsupported by any appearance of\nauthority. The very idea of the fabrication of a new government is\nenough to fill us with disgust and horror. We wished at the period\nof the Revolution, and do now wish, to derive all we possess as\nAN INHERITANCE FROM OUR FOREFATHERS. Upon that body and stock of\ninheritance, we have taken care not to inoculate any scion alien to the\nnature of the original plant. All the reformations we have hitherto made\nhave proceeded upon the principle of reverence to antiquity; and I\nhope, nay, I am persuaded, that all those which possibly may be\nmade hereafter, will be carefully formed upon analogical precedent,\nauthority, and example.\n\nOur oldest reformation is that of Magna Charta. You will see that Sir\nEdward Coke, that great oracle of our law, and indeed all the great men\nwho follow him, to Blackstone, are industrious to prove the pedigree of\nour liberties. They endeavour to prove, that the ancient charter, the\nMagna Charta of King John, was connected with another positive charter\nfrom Henry I., and that both the one and the other were nothing more\nthan a re-affirmance of the still more ancient standing law of the\nkingdom. In the matter of fact, for the greater part, these authors\nappear to be in the right; perhaps not always; but if the lawyers\nmistake in some particulars, it proves my position still the more\nstrongly, because it demonstrates the powerful prepossession towards\nantiquity, with much the minds of all our lawyers and legislators, and\nof all the people whom they wish to influence, have been always filled;\nand the stationary policy of this kingdom in considering their most\nsacred rights and franchises as an INHERITANCE.\n\nIn the famous law of the 3rd of Charles I., called the PETITION OF\nRIGHT, the parliament says to the king, \"Your subjects have INHERITED\nthis freedom,\" claiming their franchises not on abstract principles \"as\nthe rights of men,\" but as the rights of Englishmen, and as a patrimony\nderived from their forefathers. Selden, and the other profoundly learned\nmen, who drew this petition of right, were as well acquainted, at least,\nwith all the general theories concerning the \"rights of men,\" as any of\nthe discoursers in our pulpits, or on your tribune; full as well as Dr.\nPrice, or as the Abbe Sieyes. But, for reasons worthy of that practical\nwisdom which superseded their theoretic science, they preferred this\npositive, recorded, HEREDITARY title to all which can be dear to the man\nand the citizen, to that vague speculative right, which exposed their\nsure inheritance to be scrambled for and torn to pieces by every wild,\nlitigious spirit.\n\nThe same policy pervades all the laws which have since been made for the\npreservation of our liberties. In the 1st of William and Mary, in the\nfamous statute called the Declaration of Right, the two houses utter not\na syllable of \"a right to frame a government for themselves.\" You\nwill see, that their whole care was to secure the religion, laws, and\nliberties, that had been long possessed, and had been lately endangered.\n\"Taking into their most serious consideration the BEST means for making\nsuch an establishment that their religion, laws, and liberties, might\nnot be in danger of being again subverted,\" they auspicate all their\nproceedings, by stating as some of those BEST means, \"in the FIRST\nPLACE\" to do \"as their ANCESTORS IN LIKE CASES HAVE USUALLY done for\nvindicating their ANCIENT rights and liberties, to DECLARE;\"--and then\nthey pray the king and queen, \"that it may be DECLARED and enacted, that\nALL AND SINGULAR the rights and liberties ASSERTED AND DECLARED, are the\ntrue ANCIENT and indubitable rights and liberties of the people of this\nkingdom.\"\n\nYou will observe, that from Magna Charta to the Declaration of Right, it\nhas been the uniform policy of our constitution to claim and assert\nour liberties, as an ENTAILED INHERITANCE derived to us from our\nforefathers, and to be transmitted to our posterity, as an estate\nspecially belonging to the people of this kingdom, without any reference\nwhatever to any other more general or prior right. By this means our\nconstitution preserves a unity in so great a diversity of its parts.\nWe have an inheritable crown; an inheritable peerage; and a house of\ncommons and a people inheriting privileges, franchises, and liberties,\nfrom a long line of ancestors.\n\n\n\n\nLOW AIMS AND LOW INSTRUMENTS.\n\nWhen men of rank sacrifice all ideas of dignity to an ambition without\na distinct object, and work with low instruments and for low ends, the\nwhole composition becomes low and base. Does not something like this now\nappear in France? Does it not produce something ignoble and inglorious?\na kind of meanness in all the prevalent policy? a tendency in all that\nis done to lower along with individuals all the dignity and importance\nof the state? Other revolutions have been conducted by persons,\nwho, whilst they attempted or affected changes in the commonwealth,\nsanctified their ambition by advancing the dignity of the people whose\npeace they troubled. They had long views. They aimed at the rule, not\nat the destruction, of their country. They were men of great civil and\ngreat military talents, and if the terror, the ornament of their age.\nThey were not like Jew brokers, contending with each other who could\nbest remedy with fraudulent circulation and depreciated paper the\nwretchedness and ruin brought on their country by their degenerate\ncouncils. The compliment made to one of the great bad men of the old\nstamp (Cromwell) by his kinsman, a favourite poet of that time,\nshows what it was he proposed, and what indeed to a great degree he\naccomplished, in the success of his ambition:--\n\n    \"Still as YOU rise, the STATE exalted too,\n    Finds no distemper whilst 'tis changed by YOU:\n    Changed like the world's great scene, when without noise\n    The rising sun night's VULGAR lights destroys.\"\n\nThese disturbers were not so much like men usurping power, as asserting\ntheir natural place in society. Their rising was to illuminate and\nbeautify the world. Their conquest over their competitors was by\noutshining them. The hand that, like a destroying angel, smote the\ncountry, communicated to it the force and energy under which it\nsuffered. I do not say (God forbid), I do not say, that the virtues of\nsuch men were to be taken as a balance to their crimes: but they were\nsome corrective to their effects. Such was, as I said, our Cromwell.\nSuch were your whole race of Guises, Condes, and Colignis. Such the\nRichelieus, who in more quite times acted in the spirit of a civil war.\nSuch, as better men, and in a less dubious cause, were your Henry the\nFourth and your Sully, though nursed in civil confusions, and not wholly\nwithout some of their taint. It is a thing to be wondered at, to see\nhow very soon France, when she had a moment to respire, recovered and\nemerged from the longest and most dreadful civil war that ever was known\nin any nation. Why? Because among all their massacres, they had not\nslain the MIND in their country. A conscious dignity, a noble pride,\na generous sense of glory and emulation, was not extinguished. On the\ncontrary, it was kindled and enflamed. The organs also of the state,\nhowever shattered, existed. All the prizes of honour and virtue, all\nthe rewards, all the distinctions, remained. But your present confusion,\nlike a palsy, has attacked the fountain of life itself. Every person in\nyour country, in a situation to be actuated by a principle of honour, is\ndisgraced and degraded, and can entertain no sensation of life, except\nin a mortified and humiliated indignation. But this generation will\nquickly pass away. The next generation of the nobility will resemble the\nartificers and clowns, and money-jobbers, usurers, and Jews, who will\nbe always their fellows, sometimes their masters. Believe me, Sir, those\nwho attempt to level, never equalise. In all societies, consisting of\nvarious descriptions of citizens, some description must be uppermost.\nThe levellers therefore only change and pervert the natural order of\nthings; they load the edifice of society, by setting up in the air\nwhat the solidity of the structure requires to be on the ground. The\nassociations of tailors and carpenters, of which the republic (of Paris,\nfor instance), is composed, cannot be equal to the situation into which,\nby the worst of usurpations, a usurpation on the prerogatives of nature,\nyou attempt to force them.\n\nThe Chancellor of France, at the opening of the states, said, in a tone\nof oratorical flourish, that all occupations were honourable. If he\nmeant only, that no honest employment was disgraceful, he would not have\ngone beyond the truth. But in asserting that anything is honourable, we\nimply some distinction in its favour. The occupation of a hair-dresser,\nor of a working tallow-chandler, cannot be a matter of honour to any\nperson--to say nothing of a number of other more servile employments.\nSuch descriptions of men ought not to suffer oppression from the state;\nbut the state suffers oppression, if such as they, either individually\nor collectively, are permitted to rule. In this you think you are\ncombating prejudice, but you are at war with nature.\n\n\n\n\nHOUSE OF COMMONS CONTRASTED WITH NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.\n\nThe British House of Commons, without shutting its doors to any merit\nin any class, is, by the sure operation of adequate causes, filled\nwith everything illustrious in rank, in descent, in hereditary and in\nacquired opulence, in cultivated talents, in military, civil, naval, and\npolitic distinction, that the country can afford. But supposing, what\nhardly can be supposed as a case, that the House of Commons should be\ncomposed in the same manner with the Tiers-Etat in France, would this\ndominion of chicane be borne with patience, or even conceived without\nhorror? God forbid I should insinuate anything derogatory to that\nprofession, which is another priesthood, administering the rights of\nsacred justice. But whilst I revere men in the functions which belong to\nthem, and would do as much as one man can do to prevent their exclusion\nfrom any, I cannot, to flatter them, give the lie to nature. They are\ngood and useful in the composition; they must be mischievous if they\npreponderate so as virtually to become the whole. Their very excellence\nin their peculiar functions may be far from a qualification for others.\nIt cannot escape observation, that when men are too much confined\nto professional and faculty habits, and as it were inveterate in the\nrecurrent employment of that narrow circle, they are rather disabled\nthan qualified for whatever depends on the knowledge of mankind, on\nexperience in mixed affairs, on a comprehensive, connected view of the\nvarious, complicated, external, and internal interests, which go to the\nformation of that multifarious thing called a state. After all, if\nthe House of Commons were to have a wholly professional and faculty\ncomposition, what is the power of the House of Commons, circumscribed\nand shut in by the immoveable barriers of law, usages, positive rules\nof doctrine and practice, counterpoised by the House of Lords, and every\nmoment of its existence at the discretion of the crown to continue,\nprorogue, or dissolve us? The power of the House of Commons, direct\nor indirect, is indeed great; and long may it be able to preserve its\ngreatness, and the spirit belonging to true greatness, at the full; and\nit will do so, as long as it can keep the breakers of law in India from\nbecoming the makers of law for England. The power, however, of the House\nof Commons, when least diminished, is as a drop of water in the ocean,\ncompared to that residing in a settled majority of your National\nAssembly. That assembly, since the destruction of the orders, has no\nfundamental law, no strict convention, no respected usage to restrain\nit. Instead of finding themselves obliged to conform to a fixed\nconstitution, they have a power to make a constitution which shall\nconform to their designs. Nothing in heaven or upon earth can serve as\na control on them. What ought to be the heads, the hearts, the\ndispositions, that are qualified, or that dare, not only to make laws\nunder a fixed constitution, but at one heat to strike out a totally new\nconstitution for a great kingdom, and every part of it, from the monarch\non the throne to the vestry of a parish? But--\"fools rush in where\nangels fear to tread.\" In such a state of unbounded power, for undefined\nand indefinable purposes, the evil of a moral and almost physical\ninaptitude of the man to the function, must be the greatest we can\nconceive to happen in the management of human affairs.\n\n\n\n\nPROPERTY, MORE THAN ABILITY, REPRESENTED IN PARLIAMENT.\n\nNothing is a due and adequate representation of a state that does not\nrepresent its ability, as well as its property. But as ability is a\nvigorous and active principle, and as property is sluggish, inert, and\ntimid, it never can be safe from the invasions of ability, unless it\nbe, out of all proportion, predominant in the representation. It must\nbe represented too in great masses of accumulation, or it is not rightly\nprotected. The characteristic essence of property, formed out of the\ncombined principles of its acquisition and conservation, is to be\nUNEQUAL. The great masses, therefore, which excite envy, and tempt\nrapacity, must be put out of the possibility of danger. Then they form a\nnatural rampart about the lesser properties in all their gradations.\nThe same quantity of property, which is by the natural course of things\ndivided among many, has not the same operation. Its defensive power is\nweakened as it is diffused. In this diffusion each man's portion is less\nthan what, in the eagerness of his desires, he may flatter himself to\nobtain by dissipating the accumulations of others. The plunder of\nthe few would, indeed, give but a share inconceivably small in the\ndistribution to the many. But the many are not capable of making\nthis calculation; and those who lead them to rapine never intend this\ndistribution.\n\nThe power of perpetuating our property in our families is one of the\nmost valuable and interesting circumstances belonging to it, and that\nwhich tends the most to the perpetuation of society itself. It makes\nour weakness subservient to our virtue; it grafts benevolence even upon\navarice. The possessors of family wealth, and of the distinction which\nattends hereditary possession (as most concerned in it), are the natural\nsecurities for this transmission. With us the House of Peers is formed\nupon this principle. It is wholly composed of hereditary property\nand hereditary distinction; and made, therefore, the third of the\nlegislature; and, in the last event, the sole judge of all property in\nall its subdivisions. The House of Commons, too, though not necessarily,\nyet in fact, is always so composed, in the far greater part. Let those\nlarge proprietors be what they will, and they have their chance of being\namong the best, they are, at the very worst, the ballast in the vessel\nof the commonwealth. For though hereditary wealth, and the rank which\ngoes with it, are too much idolized by creeping sycophants, and the\nblind, abject admirers of power, they are too rashly slighted in shallow\nspeculations of the petulant, assuming, short-sighted coxcombs of\nphilosophy. Some decent, regulated pre-eminence, some preference (not\nexclusive appropriation) given to birth, is neither unnatural, nor\nunjust, nor impolitic. It is said, that twenty-four millions ought\nto prevail over two hundred thousand. True; if the constitution of a\nkingdom be a problem of arithmetic. This sort of discourse does well\nenough with the lamp-post for its second: to men who MAY reason calmly,\nit is ridiculous. The will of the many, and their interest, must very\noften differ; and great will be the difference when they make an evil\nchoice.\n\n\n\n\nVIRTUE AND WISDOM QUALIFY FOR GOVERNMENT.\n\nI do not, my dear sir, conceive you to be of that sophistical, captious\nspirit, or of that uncandid dulness, as to require, for every general\nobservation or sentiment, an explicit detail of the correctives and\nexceptions which reason will presume to be included in all the general\npropositions which come from reasonable men. You do not imagine that I\nwish to confine power, authority, and distinction to blood, and names,\nand titles. No, sir. There is no qualification for government but virtue\nand wisdom, actual or presumptive. Wherever they are actually found,\nthey have, in whatever state, condition, profession, or trade, the\npassport of heaven to human place and honour. Woe to that country which\nwould madly and impiously reject the service of the talents and virtues,\ncivil, military, or religious, that are given to grace and to serve it;\nand would condemn to obscurity everything formed to diffuse lustre and\nglory around a state. Woe to that country, too, that, passing into the\nopposite extreme, considers a low education, a mean, contracted view\nof things, a sordid, mercenary occupation, as a preferable title to\ncommand. Everything ought to be open; but not indifferently to every\nman. No rotation; no appointment by lot; no mode of election operating\nin the spirit of sortition, or rotation, can be generally good in\na government conversant in extensive objects. Because they have no\ntendency, direct or indirect, to select the man with a view to the duty,\nor to accommodate the one to the other. I do not hesitate to say, that\nthe road to eminence and power, from obscure condition, ought not to\nbe made too easy, nor a thing too much of course. If rare merit be\nthe rarest of all rare things, in ought to pass through some sort of\nprobation. The temple of honour ought to be seated on an eminence. If\nit be opened through virtue, let it be remembered, too, that virtue is\nnever tried but by some difficulty and some struggle.\n\n\n\n\nNATURAL AND CIVIL RIGHTS.\n\nFar am I from denying in theory, full as far as is my heart from\nwithholding in practice (if I were of power to give or to withhold),\nthe REAL rights of men. In denying their false claims of right, I do\nnot mean to injure those which are real, and are such as their pretended\nrights would totally destroy. If civil society be made for the advantage\nof man, all the advantages for which it is made become his right. It is\nan institution of beneficence; and law itself is only beneficence acting\nby a rule. Men have a right to live by that rule; they have a right\nto do justice, as between their fellows, whether their fellows are in\npolitic function, or in ordinary occupation. They have a right to the\nfruits of their industry, and to the means of making their industry\nfruitful. They have a right to the acquisitions of their parents; to the\nnourishment and improvement of their offspring; to instruction in\nlife, and to consolation in death. Whatever each man can separately do,\nwithout trespassing upon others, he has a right to do for himself; and\nhe has a right to a fair portion of all which society, with all\nits combinations of skill and force, can do in his favour. In this\npartnership all men have equal rights; but not to equal things. He that\nhas but five shillings in the partnership, has as good a right to it, as\nhe that has five hundred pounds has to his larger proportion. But he has\nnot a right to an equal dividend in the product of the joint-stock; and\nas to the share of power, authority, and direction which each individual\nought to have in the management of the state, that I must deny to be\namongst the direct original rights of man in civil society; for I have\nin my contemplation the civil social man, and no other. It is a thing\nto be settled by convention. If civil society be the offspring of\nconvention, that convention must be its law. That convention must limit\nand modify all the descriptions of constitution which are formed under\nit. Every sort of legislature, judicial, or executory power, are its\ncreatures. They can have no being in any other state of things; and how\ncan any man claim, under the conventions of civil society, rights which\ndo not so much as suppose its existence? Rights which are absolutely\nrepugnant to it? One of the first motives to civil society, and which\nbecomes one of its fundamental rules, is, THAT NO MAN SHOULD BE JUDGE IN\nHIS OWN CAUSE. By this each person has at once divested himself of\nthe first fundamental right of uncovenanted man, that is, to judge for\nhimself, and to assert his own cause. He abdicates all right to be his\nown governor. He inclusively, in a great measure, abandons the right of\nself-defence, the first law of nature. Men cannot enjoy the rights of\nan uncivil and of a civil state together. That he may obtain justice,\nhe gives up his right of determining what it is in points the most\nessential to him. That he may secure some liberty, he makes a surrender\nin trust of the whole of it.\n\nGovernment is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do\nexist in total independence of it; and exist in much greater clearness,\nand in a much greater degree of abstract perfection: but their abstract\nperfection is their practical defect. By having a right to everything\nthey want everything. Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to\nprovide for human WANTS. Men have a right that these wants should be\nprovided for by this wisdom. Among these wants is to be reckoned\nthe want, out of civil society, of a sufficient restraint upon their\npassions. Society requires not only that the passions of individuals\nshould be subjected, but that even in the mass and body, as well as in\nthe individuals, the inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted,\ntheir will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection. This\ncan only be done BY A POWER OUT OF THEMSELVES, and not, in the exercise\nof its function, subject to that will and to those passions which it is\nits office to bridle and subdue. In this sense the restraints on men, as\nwell as their liberties, are to be reckoned among their rights. But as\nthe liberties and the restrictions vary with times and circumstances,\nand admit of infinite modifications, they cannot be settled upon any\nabstract rule; and nothing is so foolish as to discuss them upon that\nprinciple.\n\nThe moment you abate anything from the full rights of men, each to\ngovern himself, and suffer any artificial, positive limitation upon\nthose rights, from that moment the whole organization of government\nbecomes a consideration of convenience. This it is which makes the\nconstitution of a state, and the due distribution of its powers, a\nmatter of the most delicate and complicated skill. It requires a deep\nknowledge of human nature and human necessities, and of the things which\nfacilitate or obstruct the various ends, which are to be pursued by the\nmechanism of civil institutions. The state is to have recruits to its\nstrength, and remedies to its distempers. What is the use of discussing\na man's abstract right to food or medicine? The question is upon the\nmethod of procuring and administering them. In that deliberation I shall\nalways advise to call in the aid of the farmer and the physician,\nrather than the professor of metaphysics. The science of constructing\na commonwealth, or renovating it, or reforming it, is, like every other\nexperimental science, not to be taught a priori. Nor is it a short\nexperience that can instruct us in that practical science, because the\nreal effects of moral causes are not always immediate; but that which\nin the first instance is prejudicial may be excellent in its remoter\noperation; and its excellence may arise even from the ill effects it\nproduces in the beginning. The reverse also happens; and very plausible\nschemes, with very pleasing commencements, have often shameful and\nlamentable conclusions. In states there are often some obscure and\nalmost latent causes, things which appear at first view of little\nmoment, on which a very great part of its prosperity or adversity may\nmost essentially depend. The science of government being therefore so\npractical in itself, and intended for such practical purposes, a matter\nwhich requires experience, and even more experience than any person can\ngain in his whole life, however sagacious and observing he may be, it is\nwith infinite caution that any man ought to venture upon pulling down an\nedifice, which has answered in any tolerable degree for ages the common\npurposes of society, or on building it up again, without having models\nand patterns of approved utility before his eyes.\n\nThese metaphysic rights entering into common life, like rays of light\nwhich pierce into a dense medium, are, by the laws of nature, refracted\nfrom their straight line. Indeed in the gross and complicated mass of\nhuman passions and concerns, the primitive rights of men undergo such a\nvariety of refractions and reflections, that it becomes absurd to\ntalk of them as if they continued in the simplicity of their original\ndirection. The nature of man is intricate; the objects of society are of\nthe greatest possible complexity: and therefore no simple disposition\nor direction of power can be suitable either to man's nature, or to the\nquality of his affairs. When I hear the simplicity of contrivance aimed\nat and boasted of in any new political constitutions, I am at no loss\nto decide that the artificers are grossly ignorant of their trade,\nor totally negligent of their duty. The simple governments are\nfundamentally defective, to say no worse of them. If you were to\ncontemplate society in but one point of view, all these simple modes\nof polity are infinitely captivating. In effect each would answer its\nsingle end much more perfectly than the more complex is able to attain\nall its complex purposes. But it is better that the whole should be\nimperfectly and anomalously answered, than that, while some parts are\nprovided for with great exactness, others might be totally neglected, or\nperhaps materially injured, by the over-care of a favourite member.\n\nThe pretended rights of these theorists are all extremes: and in\nproportion as they are metaphysically true, they are morally and\npolitically false. The rights of men are in a sort of MIDDLE, incapable\nof definition, but not impossible to be discerned. The rights of men\nin governments are their advantages, and these are often in balances\nbetween differences of good; in compromises sometimes between good\nand evil, and sometimes between evil and evil. Political reason is a\ncomputing principle, adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing,\nmorally and not metaphysically or mathematically, true moral\ndenominations.\n\nBy these theorists the right of the people is almost always\nsophistically confounded with their power. The body of the community,\nwhenever it can come to act, can meet with no effectual resistance; but\ntill power and right are the same, the whole body of them has no right\ninconsistent with virtue, and the first of all virtues--prudence.\n\n\n\n\nMARIE ANTOINETTE.\n\n\nIt is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France,\nthen the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this\norb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw\nher just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere\nshe just began to move in,--glittering like the morning-star, full of\nlife, and splendour, and joy. Oh! what a revolution! and what a heart\nmust I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that\nfall! Little did I dream when she added titles of veneration to those of\nenthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged\nto carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom;\nlittle did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen\nupon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honour and of\ncavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their\nscabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the\nage of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and\ncalculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for\never. Never, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank\nand sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that\nsubordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself,\nthe spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace of life, the cheap\ndefence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise,\nis gone! It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of\nhonour, which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst\nit mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and under\nwhich vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness.\n\n\n\n\nSPIRIT OF A GENTLEMAN AND THE SPIRIT OF RELIGION.\n\nHow much of that prosperous state was owing to the spirit of our old\nmanners and opinions is not easy to say; but as such causes cannot be\nindifferent in their operation, we must presume that, on the whole,\ntheir operation was beneficial.\n\nWe are but too apt to consider things in the state in which we find\nthem, without sufficiently adverting to the causes by which they have\nbeen produced, and possibly may be upheld. Nothing is more certain, than\nthat our manners, our civilization, and all the good things which are\nconnected with manners and with civilization, have, in this European\nworld of ours, depended for ages upon two principles, and were indeed\nthe result of both combined; I mean the spirit of a gentleman and the\nspirit of religion. The nobility and the clergy, the one by profession,\nthe other by patronage, kept learning in existence, even in the midst of\narms and confusions, and whilst governments were rather in their causes,\nthan formed. Learning paid back what it received to nobility and to\npriesthood; and paid it with usury, by enlarging their ideas, and by\nfurnishing their minds. Happy if they had all continued to know their\nindissoluble union, and their proper place! Happy if learning, not\ndebauched by ambition, had been satisfied to continue the instructor,\nand not aspired to be the master! Along with its natural protectors and\nguardians, learning will be cast into the mire, and trodden down under\nthe hoofs of a swinish multitude.\n\nIf, as I suspect, modern letters owe more than they are always willing\nto own to ancient manners, so do other interests which we value full as\nmuch as they are worth. Even commerce, and trade, and manufacture,\nthe gods of our economical politicians, are themselves, perhaps, but\ncreatures; are themselves but effects, which, as first causes, we choose\nto worship. They certainly grew under the same shade in which learning\nflourished. They too may decay with their natural protecting principles.\nWith you, for the present at least, they all threaten to disappear\ntogether. Where trade and manufactures are wanting to a people, and the\nspirit of nobility and religion remains, sentiment supplies, and not\nalways ill supplies, their place; but if commerce and the arts should\nbe lost in an experiment to try how well a state may stand without these\nold fundamental principles, what sort of a thing must be a nation\nof gross, stupid, ferocious, and, at the same time, poor and sordid\nbarbarians, destitute of religion, honour, or manly pride, possessing\nnothing at present, and hoping for nothing hereafter?\n\n\n\n\nPOWER SURVIVES OPINION.\n\nBut power, of some kind or other, will survive the shock in which\nmanners and opinions perish! And it will find other and worse means\nfor its support. The usurpation which, in order to subvert ancient\ninstitutions, has destroyed ancient principles, will hold power by arts\nsimilar to those by which it has acquired it. When the old feudal and\nchivalrous spirit of FEALTY, which, by freeing kings from fear, freed\nboth kings and subjects from the precaution of tyranny, shall be extinct\nin the minds of men, plots and assassinations will be anticipated by\npreventive murder and preventive confiscation, and that long roll of\ngrim and bloody maxims, which form the political code of all power, not\nstanding on its own honour, and the honour of those who are to obey\nit. Kings will be tyrants from policy, when subjects are rebels from\nprinciple.\n\n\n\n\nCHIVALRY A MORALIZING CHARM.\n\nThis mixed system of opinion and sentiment had its origin in the ancient\nchivalry; and the principle, though varied in its appearance by the\nvarying state of human affairs, subsisted and influenced through a long\nsuccession of generations, even to the time we live in. If it should\never be totally extinguished, the loss I fear will be great. It is this\nwhich has given its character to modern Europe. It is this which has\ndistinguished it under all its forms of government, and distinguished\nit, to its advantage, from the states of Asia, and possibly from those\nstates which flourished in the most brilliant periods of the antique\nworld. It was this which, without confounding ranks, had produced a\nnoble equality, and handed it down through all the gradations of social\nlife. It was this opinion which mitigated kings into companions,\nand raised private men to be fellows with kings. Without force or\nopposition, it subdued the fierceness of pride and power; it obliged\nsovereigns to submit to the soft collar of social esteem, compelled\nstern authority to submit to elegance, and gave a dominating vanquisher\nof laws to be subdued by manners.\n\nBut now all is to be changed. All the pleasing illusions, which made\npower gentle, and obedience liberal, which harmonized the different\nshades of life, and which, by a bland assimilation, incorporated into\npolitics the sentiments which beautify and soften private society, are\nto be dissolved by this new conquering empire of light and reason. All\nthe decent drapery of life is to be rudely torn off. All the superadded\nideas, furnished from the wardrobe of a moral imagination, which the\nheart owns and the understanding ratifies as necessary to cover the\ndefects of our naked, shivering nature, and to raise it to dignity in\nour own estimation, are to be exploded as a ridiculous, absurd, and\nantiquated fashion.\n\nOn this scheme of things, a king is but a man, a queen is but a woman;\na woman is but an animal,--and an animal not of the highest order. All\nhomage paid to the sex in general as such, and without distinct views,\nis to be regarded as romance and folly. Regicide, and parricide, and\nsacrilege are but fictions of superstition, corrupting jurisprudence\nby destroying its simplicity. The murder of a king, or a queen, or a\nbishop, or a father, are only common homicide; and if the people are by\nany chance, or in any way, gainers by it, a sort of homicide much\nthe most pardonable, and into which we ought not to make too severe a\nscrutiny.\n\nOn the scheme of this barbarous philosophy, which is the offspring of\ncold hearts and muddy understandings, and which is as void of solid\nwisdom as it is destitute of all taste and elegance, laws are to be\nsupported only by their own terrors, and by the concern which each\nindividual may find in them from his own private speculations, or can\nspare to them from his own private interests. In the groves of THEIR\nacademy, at the end of every vista, you see nothing but the gallows.\nNothing is left which engages the affections on the part of the\ncommonwealth. On the principles of this mechanic philosophy, our\ninstitutions can never be embodied, if I may use the expression,\nin persons, so as to create in us love, veneration, admiration, or\nattachment. But that sort of reason which banishes the affections is\nincapable of filling their place. These public affections, combined\nwith manners, are required sometimes as supplements, sometimes as\ncorrectives, always as aids to law. The precept given by a wise man, as\nwell as a great critic, for the construction of poems, is equally true\nas to states:--Non satis est pulchra esse poemata, dulcia sunto. There\nought to be a system of manners in every nation which a well-formed mind\nwould be disposed to relish. To make us love our country, our country\nought to be lovely.\n\n\n\n\nSACREDNESS OF MORAL INSTINCTS.\n\nWhy do I feel so differently from the Reverend Dr. Price, and those of\nhis lay flock, who will choose to adopt the sentiments of his discourse?\nFor this plain reason--because it is NATURAL I should; because we are\nso made, as to be affected at such spectacles with melancholy sentiments\nupon the unstable condition of mortal prosperity and the tremendous\nuncertainty of human greatness; because in those natural feelings we\nlearn great lessons; because in events like these our passions instruct\nour reason; because when kings are hurled from their thrones by the\nSupreme Director of this great drama, and become the objects of insult\nto the base, and of pity to the good, we behold such disasters in the\nmoral, as we should behold a miracle in the physical, order of things.\nWe are alarmed into reflection; our minds (as it has long since been\nobserved) are purified by terror and pity; our weak, unthinking pride is\nhumbled under the dispensations of a mysterious wisdom. Some tears might\nbe drawn from me, if such a spectacle were exhibited on the stage. I\nshould be truly ashamed of finding in myself that superficial, theatric\nsense of painted distress, whilst I could exult over it in real life.\nWith such a perverted mind, I could never venture to show my face at\na tragedy. People would think the tears that Garrick formerly, or\nthat Siddons not long since, have extorted from me, were the tears of\nhypocrisy; I should know them to be the tears of folly.\n\nIndeed the theatre is a better school of moral sentiments than churches,\nwhere the feelings of humanity are thus outraged. Poets who have to deal\nwith an audience not yet graduated in the school of the rights of men,\nand who must apply themselves to the moral constitution of the heart,\nwould not dare to produce such a triumph as a matter of exultation.\nThere, where men follow their natural impulses, they would not bear\nthe odious maxims of a Machiavelian policy, whether applied to the\nattainment of monarchical or democratic tyranny. They would reject them\non the modern, as they once did on the ancient stage, where they could\nnot bear even the hypothetical proposition of such wickedness in the\nmouth of a personated tyrant, though suitable to the character he\nsustained. No theatric audience in Athens would bear what has been\nborne, in the midst of the real tragedy of this triumphal day; a\nprincipal actor weighing, as it were in scales hung in a shop of\nhorrors, so much actual crime against so much contingent advantage, and\nafter putting in and out weights, declaring that the balance was on the\nside of the advantages. They would not bear to see the crimes of new\ndemocracy posted as in a ledger against the crimes of old despotism, and\nthe book-keepers of politics finding democracy still in debt, but by no\nmeans unable or unwilling to pay the balance. In the theatre, the first\nintuitive glance, without any elaborate process of reasoning, will show,\nthat this method of political computation would justify every extent\nof crime. They would see, that on these principles, even where the very\nworst acts were not perpetrated, it was owing rather to the fortune\nof the conspirators, than to their parsimony in the expenditure of\ntreachery and blood. They would soon see, that criminal means once\ntolerated are soon preferred. They present a shorter cut to the object\nthan through the highway of the moral virtues. Justifying perfidy and\nmurder for public benefit, public benefit would soon become the pretext,\nand perfidy and murder the end; until rapacity, malice, revenge,\nand fear more dreadful than revenge, could satiate their insatiable\nappetites. Such must be the consequences of losing, in the splendour\nof these triumphs of the rights of men, all natural sense of wrong and\nright.\n\n\n\n\nPARENTAL EXPERIENCE.\n\nHad it pleased God to continue to me the hopes of succession, I should\nhave been, according to my mediocrity, and the mediocrity of the age I\nlive in, a sort of founder of a family: I should have left a son, who,\nin all the points in which personal merit can be viewed,--in science, in\nerudition, in genius, in taste, in honour, in generosity, in humanity,\nin every liberal sentiment, and every liberal accomplishment,--would not\nhave shown himself inferior to the duke of Bedford, or to any of those\nwhom he traces in his line. His grace very soon would have wanted all\nplausibility in his attack upon that provision which belonged more\nto mine than to me. He would soon have supplied every deficiency,\nand symmetrized every disproportion. It would not have been for that\nsuccessor to resort to any stagnant wasting reservoir of merit in me, or\nin any ancestry. He had in himself a salient, living spring of generous\nand manly action. Every day he lived he would have re-purchased the\nbounty of the Crown, and ten times more, if ten times more he had\nreceived. He was made a public creature, and had no enjoyment whatever\nbut in the performance of some duty. At this exigent moment, the loss of\na finished man is not easily supplied.\n\nBut a Disposer whose power we are little able to resist, and whose\nwisdom it behoves us not at all to dispute, has ordained it in another\nmanner, and (whatever my querulous weakness might suggest) a far better.\nThe storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which\nthe late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stripped of all my\nhonours, I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth!\nThere, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognise the divine\njustice, and in some degree submit to it. But whilst I humble myself\nbefore God, I do not know that it is forbidden to repel the attacks of\nunjust and inconsiderate men. The patience of Job is proverbial. After\nsome of the convulsive struggles of our irritable nature, he submitted\nhimself, and repented in dust and ashes. But even so, I do not find\nhim blamed for reprehending, and with a considerable degree of verbal\nasperity, those ill-natured neighbours of his, who visited his dunghill\nto read moral, political, and economical lectures on his misery. I am\nalone. I have none to meet my enemies in the gate. Indeed, my Lord, I\ngreatly deceive myself, if in this hard season I would give a peck of\nrefuse wheat for all that is called fame and honour in the world. This\nis the appetite but of a few. It is a luxury, it is a privilege, it is\nan indulgence for those who are at their ease. But we are all of us made\nto shun disgrace, as we are made to shrink from pain, and poverty, and\ndisease. It is an instinct; and under the direction of reason, instinct\nis always in the right. I live in an inverted order. They who ought to\nhave succeeded me have gone before me. They who should have been to\nme as posterity are in the place of ancestors. I owe to the dearest\nrelation (which ever must subsist in memory) that act of piety which\nhe would have performed to me; I owe it to him to show that he was\nnot descended, as the duke of Bedford would have it, from an unworthy\nparent.\n\n\n\n\nREVOLUTIONARY SCENE.\n\nHistory, who keeps a durable record of all our acts, and exercises her\nawful censure over the proceedings of all sorts of sovereigns, will not\nforget either those events or the era of this liberal refinement in the\nintercourse of mankind. History will record, that on the morning of\nthe 6th of October, 1789, the king and queen of France, after a day of\nconfusion, alarm, dismay, and slaughter, lay down, under the pledged\nsecurity of public faith, to indulge nature in a few hours of respite,\nand troubled, melancholy repose. From this sleep the queen was first\nstartled by the voice of the sentinel at her door, who cried out to her\nto save herself by flight--that this was the last proof of fidelity he\ncould give--that they were upon him, and he was dead. Instantly he\nwas cut down. A band of cruel ruffians and assassins, reeking with his\nblood, rushed into the chamber of the queen, and pierced with a hundred\nstrokes of bayonets and poniards the bed from whence this persecuted\nwoman had but just time to fly almost naked, and, through ways unknown\nto the murderers, had escaped to seek refuge at the feet of a king and\nhusband, not secure of his own life for a moment. This king, to say no\nmore of him, and this queen, and their infant children (who once would\nhave been the pride and hope of a great and generous people), were\nthen forced to abandon the sanctuary of the most splendid palace in\nthe world, which they left swimming in blood, polluted by massacre, and\nstrewed with scattered limbs and mutilated carcases. Thence they were\nconducted into the capital of their kingdom. Two had been selected from\nthe unprovoked, unresisted, promiscuous slaughter, which was made of the\ngentlemen of birth and family who composed the king's body-guard. These\ntwo gentlemen, with all the parade of an execution of justice, were\ncruelly and publicly dragged to the block, and beheaded in the great\ncourt of the palace. Their heads were stuck upon spears, and led the\nprocession; whilst the royal captives who followed in the train were\nslowly moved along, amidst the horrid yells, and shrilling screams,\nand frantic dances, and infamous contumelies, and all the unutterable\nabominations of the furies of hell, in the abused shape of the vilest\nof women. After they had been made to taste, drop by drop, more than the\nbitterness of death, in the slow torture of a journey of twelve miles,\nprotracted to six hours, they were, under a guard composed of those very\nsoldiers who had thus conducted them through this famous triumph, lodged\nin one of the old palaces of Paris, now converted into a Bastille for\nkings.\n\nIs this a triumph to be consecrated at altars? to be commemorated with\ngrateful thanksgiving? to be offered to the divine humanity with fervent\nprayer and enthusiastic ejaculation?--These Theban and Thracian orgies,\nacted in France, and applauded only in the Old Jewry, I assure you,\nkindle prophetic enthusiasm in the minds but of very few people in this\nkingdom: although a saint and apostle, who may have revelations of his\nown, and who has so completely vanquished all the mean superstitions of\nthe heart, may incline to think it pious and decorous to compare it with\nthe entrance into the world of the Prince of Peace, proclaimed in a holy\ntemple by a venerable sage, and not long before not worse announced by\nthe voice of angels to quiet the innocence of shepherds.\n\n\n\n\nECONOMY ON STATE PRINCIPLES.\n\nEconomy in my plans was, as it ought to be, secondary, subordinate,\ninstrumental. I acted on state principles. I found a great distemper in\nthe commonwealth; and, according to the nature of the evil and of the\nobject, I treated it. The malady was deep; it was complicated, in the\ncauses and in the symptoms. Throughout it was full of contra-indicants.\nOn one hand government, daily growing more invidious from an apparent\nincrease of the means of strength, was every day growing more\ncontemptible by real weakness. Nor was this dissolution confined to\ngovernment commonly so called. It extended to parliament; which was\nlosing not a little in its dignity and estimation, by an opinion of\nits not acting on worthy motives. On the other hand, the desires of the\npeople (partly natural and partly infused into them by art) appeared in\nso wild and inconsiderate a manner, with regard to the economical object\n(for I set aside for a moment the dreadful tampering with the body of\nthe constitution itself), that, if their petitions had literally been\ncomplied with, the state would have been convulsed, and a gate would\nhave been opened through which all property might be sacked and ravaged.\nNothing could have saved the public from the mischiefs of the false\nreform but its absurdity, which would soon have brought itself, and\nwith it all real reform, into discredit. This would have left a rankling\nwound in the hearts of the people, who would know they had failed in the\naccomplishment of their wishes, but who, like the rest of mankind in\nall ages, would impute the blame to anything rather than to their own\nproceedings. But there were then persons in the world who nourished\ncomplaint, and would have been thoroughly disappointed if the people\nwere ever satisfied. I was not of that humour. I wished that they SHOULD\nbe satisfied. It was my aim to give to the people the substance of what\nI knew they desired, and what I thought was right, whether they desired\nor not, before it had been modified for them into senseless petitions.\nI knew that there is a manifest, marked distinction, which ill men with\nill designs, or weak men incapable of any design, will constantly\nbe confounding, that is a marked distinction between change and\nreformation. The former alters the substance of the objects themselves,\nand gets rid of all their essential good, as well as of all the\naccidental evil, annexed to them. Change is novelty; and whether it is\nto operate any one of the effects of reformation at all, or whether it\nmay not contradict the very principle upon which reformation is desired,\ncannot be certainly known beforehand. Reform is not a change in the\nsubstance, or in the primary modification of the object, but a direct\napplication of a remedy to the grievance complained of. So far as that\nis removed, all is sure. It stops there; and if it fails, the substance\nwhich underwent the operation, at the very worst, is but where it was.\nAll this, in effect, I think, but am not sure, I have said elsewhere. It\ncannot at this time be too often repeated; line upon line; precept upon\nprecept; until it comes into the currency of a proverb, TO INNOVATE IS\nNOT TO REFORM. The French revolutionists complained of everything; they\nrefused to reform anything; and they left nothing, no, nothing at all,\nUNCHANGED. The consequences are BEFORE us,--not in remote history; not\nin future prognostication: they are about us; they are upon us. They\nshake the public security; they menace private enjoyment. They dwarf the\ngrowth of the young; they break the quiet of the old. If we travel, they\nstop our way. They infest us in town; they pursue us to the country.\nOur business is interrupted; our repose is troubled; our pleasures are\nsaddened; our very studies are poisoned and perverted, and knowledge\nis rendered worse than ignorance by the enormous evils of this dreadful\ninnovation. The revolution harpies of France, sprung from night and\nhell, or from that chaotic anarchy which generates equivocally \"all\nmonstrous, all prodigious things,\" cuckoo-like, adulterously lay their\neggs, and brood over, and hatch them in the nest of every neighbouring\nstate. These obscene harpies, who deck themselves in I know not what\ndivine attributes, but who in reality are foul and ravenous birds of\nprey (both mothers and daughters), flutter over our heads, and souse\ndown upon our tables, and leave nothing unrent, unrifled, unravaged, or\nunpolluted with the slime of their filthy offal.\n\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHICAL VANITY; ITS MAXIMS, AND EFFECTS.\n\nThe Assembly recommends to its youth a study of the bold experimenters\nin morality. Everybody knows that there is a great dispute amongst their\nleaders, which of them is the best resemblance of Rousseau. In truth,\nthey all resemble him. His blood they transfuse into their minds and\ninto their manners. Him they study; him they meditate; him they turn\nover in all the time they can spare from the laborious mischief of the\nday, or the debauches of the night. Rousseau is their canon of holy\nwrit; in his life he is their canon of Polycletus; he is their standard\nfigure of perfection. To this man and this writer, as a pattern to\nauthors and to Frenchmen, the foundries of Paris are now running for\nstatues, with the kettles of their poor and the bells of their churches.\nIf an author had written like a great genius on geometry, though its\npractical and speculative morals were vicious in the extreme, it might\nappear, that in voting the statue, they honoured only the geometrician.\nBut Rousseau is a moralist, or he is nothing. It is impossible,\ntherefore, putting the circumstances together, to mistake their design\nin choosing the author, with whom they have begun to recommend a courses\nstudies.\n\nTheir great problem is to find a substitute for all the principles which\nhitherto have been employed to regulate the human will and action. They\nfind dispositions in the mind of such force and quality as may fit men,\nfar better than the old morality, for the purposes of such a state as\ntheirs, and may go much further in supporting their power and destroying\ntheir enemies. They have therefore chosen a selfish, flattering,\nseductive, ostentatious vice, in the place of plain duty. True humility,\nthe basis of the Christian system, is the low, but deep and firm,\nfoundation of all real virtue. But this, as very painful in the\npractice, and little imposing in the appearance, they have totally\ndiscarded. Their object is to merge all natural and all social sentiment\nin inordinate vanity. In a small degree, and conversant in little\nthings, vanity is of little moment. When full grown, it is the worst\nof vices, and the occasional mimic of them all. It makes the whole man\nfalse. It leaves nothing sincere or trustworthy about him. His best\nqualities are poisoned and perverted by it, and operate exactly as the\nworst. When your lords had many writers as immoral as the object of\ntheir statue (such as Voltaire and others) they chose Rousseau, because\nin him that peculiar vice, which they wished to erect into ruling\nvirtue, was by far the most conspicuous. We have had the great professor\nand founder of THE PHILOSOPHY OF VANITY in England. As I had good\nopportunities of knowing his proceedings almost from day to day, he left\nno doubt on my mind that he entertained no principle either to influence\nhis heart, or to guide his understanding, but VANITY. With this vice he\nwas possessed to a degree little short of madness. It is from the\nsame deranged, eccentric vanity, that this, the insane Socrates of the\nNational Assembly, was impelled to publish a mad confession of his mad\nfaults, and to attempt a new sort of glory from bringing hardily to\nlight the obscure and vulgar vices which we know may sometimes be\nblended with eminent talents. He has not observed on the nature of\nvanity who does not know that it is omnivorous; that it has no choice in\nits food; that it is fond to talk even of its own faults and vices,\nas what will excite surprise and draw attention, and what will pass at\nworst for openness and candour.\n\nIt was this abuse and perversion, which vanity makes even of hypocrisy,\nthat has driven Rousseau to record a life not so much as chequered, or\nspotted here and there, with virtues, or even distinguished by a single\ngood action. It is such a life he chooses to offer to the attention of\nmankind. It is such a life that, with a wild defiance, he flings in the\nface of his Creator, whom he acknowledges only to brave. Your Assembly,\nknowing how much more powerful example is found than precept, has chosen\nthis man (by his own account without a single virtue) for a model. To\nhim they erect their first statue. From him they commence their series\nof honours and distinctions.\n\nIt is that new-invented virtue, which your masters canonize, that\nled their model hero constantly to exhaust the stores of his powerful\nrhetoric in the expression of universal benevolence; whilst his heart\nwas incapable of harbouring one spark of common parental affection.\nBenevolence to the whole species, and want of feeling for every\nindividual with whom the professors come in contact, form the character\nof the new philosophy. Setting up for an unsocial independence, this\ntheir hero of vanity refuses the just price of common labour, as well as\nthe tribute which opulence owes to genius, and which, when paid, honours\nthe giver and the receiver: and then he pleads his beggary as an excuse\nfor his crimes. He melts with tenderness for those only who touch him by\nthe remotest relation, and then, without one natural pang, casts away,\nas a sort of offal and excrement, the spawn of his disgustful amours,\nand sends his children to the hospital of foundlings. The bear loves,\nlicks, and forms her young; but bears are not philosophers. Vanity,\nhowever, finds its account in reversing the train of our natural\nfeelings. Thousands admire the sentimental writer; the affectionate\nfather is hardly known in his parish.\n\nUnder this philosophic instructor in the ETHICS OF VANITY, they have\nattempted in France a regeneration of the moral constitution of man.\nStatesmen, like your present rulers, exist by everything which is\nspurious, fictitious, and false; by everything which takes the man from\nhis house, and sets him on a stage; which makes him up an artificial\ncreature, with painted theatric sentiments, fit to be seen by the glare\nof candlelight, and formed to be contemplated at a due distance.\nVanity is too apt to prevail in all of us, and in all countries. To\nthe improvement of Frenchmen it seems not absolutely necessary that it\nshould be taught upon system. But it is plain that the present rebellion\nwas its legitimate offspring, and it is piously fed by that rebellion\nwith a daily dole. If the system of institution recommended by the\nAssembly be false and theatric, it is because their system of government\nis of the same character. To that, and to that alone, it is strictly\nconformable. To understand either, we must connect the morals with the\npolitics of the legislators. Your practical philosophers, systematic\nin everything, have wisely begun at the source. As the relation between\nparents and children is the first amongst the elements of vulgar,\nnatural morality (Filiola tua te delectari laetor et probari tibi\nphusiken esse ten pros ta tekna: etenim, si haec non est, nulla potest\nhomini esse ad hominem naturae adjunctio: qua sublata vitae societas\ntollitur. Valete Patron (Rousseau) et tui condiscipuli (l'Assemblee\nNational).--Cic. Ep. ad Atticum.), they erect statues to a wild,\nferocious, low-minded, hard-hearted father, of fine general feelings; a\nlover of his kind, but a hater of his kindred. Your masters reject the\nduties of his vulgar relation, as contrary to liberty; as not founded\nin the social compact; and not binding according to the rights of men;\nbecause the relation is not, of course, the result of FREE ELECTION;\nnever so on the side of the children, not always on the part of the\nparents.\n\nThe next relation which they regenerate by their statues to Rousseau\nis that which is next in sanctity to that of a father. They differ from\nthose old-fashioned thinkers, who considered pedagogues as sober and\nvenerable characters, and allied to the parental. The moralists of the\ndark times, preceptorum sancti voluere parentis esse loco. In this age\nof light, they teach the people that preceptors ought to be in the place\nof gallants. They systematically corrupt a very corruptible race (for\nsome time a growing nuisance amongst you), a set of pert, petulant\nliterators, to whom, instead of their proper, but severe, unostentatious\nduties, they assign the brilliant part of men of wit and pleasure, of\ngay, young, military sparks, and danglers at toilets. They call on the\nrising generation in France to take a sympathy in the adventures and\nfortunes, and they endeavour to engage their sensibility on the side of\npedagogues who betray the most awful family trusts, and vitiate their\nfemale pupils. They teach the people that the debauchers of virgins,\nalmost in the arms of their parents, may be safe inmates in the houses,\nand even fit guardians of the honour of those husbands who succeed\nlegally to the office which the young literators had preoccupied,\nwithout asking leave of law or conscience.\n\nThus they dispose of all the family relations of parents and children,\nhusbands and wives. Through this same instructor, by whom they corrupt\nthe morals, they corrupt the taste. Taste and elegance, though they are\nreckoned only among the smaller and secondary morals, yet are of no mean\nimportance in the regulation of life. A moral taste is not of force to\nturn vice into virtue; but it recommends virtue with something like the\nblandishments of pleasure; and it infinitely abates the evils of vice.\nRousseau, a writer of great force and vivacity, is totally destitute\nof taste in any sense of the word. Your masters, who are his scholars,\nconceive that all refinement has an aristocratic character. The last\nage had exhausted all its powers in giving a grace and nobleness to our\nmutual appetites, and in raising them into a higher class and order\nthan seemed justly to belong to them. Through Rousseau, your masters are\nresolved to destroy these aristocratic prejudices. The passion called\nlove has so general and powerful an influence; it makes so much of the\nentertainment, and indeed so much of the occupation of that part of life\nwhich decides the character for ever, that the mode and the principles\non which it engages the sympathy, and strikes the imagination, become of\nthe utmost importance to the morals and manners of every society. Your\nrulers were well aware of this; and in their system of changing your\nmanners to accommodate them to their politics, they found nothing so\nconvenient as Rousseau. Through him they teach men to love after the\nfashion of philosophers; that is, they teach to men, to Frenchmen, a\nlove without gallantry; a love without anything of that fine flower of\nyouthfulness and gentility, which places it, if not among the virtues,\namong the ornaments of life. Instead of this passion, naturally allied\nto grace and manners, they infuse into their youth an unfashioned,\nindelicate, sour, gloomy, ferocious medly of pedantry and lewdness; of\nmetaphysical speculations blended with the coarsest sensuality. Such\nis the general morality of the passions to be found in their famous\nphilosopher, in his famous work of philosophic gallantry the \"Nouvelle\nEloise.\" When the fence from the gallantry of preceptors is broken down,\nand your families are no longer protected by decent pride, and salutary\ndomestic prejudice, there is but one step to a frightful corruption. The\nrulers in the National Assembly are in good hopes that the females of\nthe first families in France may become an easy prey to dancing-masters,\nfiddlers, pattern-drawers, friseurs, and valets de chambre, and other\nactive citizens of that description, who having the entry into your\nhouses, and being half domesticated by their situation, may be blended\nwith you by regular and irregular relations. By a law they have made\nthese people their equals. By adopting the sentiments of Rousseau they\nhave made them your rivals. In this manner these great legislators\ncomplete their plan of levelling, and establish their rights of men on a\nsure foundation.\n\nI am certain that the writings of Rousseau lead directly to this kind\nof shameful evil. I have often wondered how he comes to be so much more\nadmired and followed on the continent than he is here. Perhaps a\nsecret charm in the language may have its share in this extraordinary\ndifference. We certainly perceive, and to a degree we feel, in this\nwriter, a style glowing, animated, enthusiastic; at the same time that\nwe find it lax, diffuse, and not in the best taste of composition; all\nthe members of the piece being pretty equally laboured and expanded,\nwithout any due selection or subordination of parts. He is generally too\nmuch on the stretch, and his manner has little variety. We cannot\nrest upon any of his works, though they contain observations which\noccasionally discover a considerable insight into human nature. But his\ndoctrines, on the whole, are so inapplicable to real life and manners,\nthat we never dream of drawing from them any rule for laws or conduct,\nor for fortifying or illustrating anything by a reference to his\nopinions. They have with us the fate of older paradoxes.\n\n    \"Cum ventum ad VERUM est, SENSUS MORESQUE repugnant,\n     Atque ipsa utilitas, justi prope mater et aequi.\"\n\nPerhaps bold speculations are more acceptable because more new to you\nthan to us, who have been long since satiated with them. We continue, as\nin the two last ages, to read, more generally than I believe is now\ndone on the continent, the authors of sound antiquity. These occupy our\nminds. They give us another taste and turn, and will not suffer us to be\nmore than transiently amused with paradoxical morality. It is not that\nI consider this writer as wholly destitute of just notions. Amongst\nhis irregularities, it must be reckoned that he is sometimes moral, and\nmoral in a very sublime strain. But the GENERAL SPIRIT AND TENDENCY of\nhis works is mischievous; and the more mischievous for this mixture: for\nperfect depravity of sentiment is not reconcileable with eloquence; and\nthe mind (though corruptible, not complexionally vicious) would reject,\nand throw off with disgust, a lesson of pure and unmixed evil. These\nwriters make even virtue a pander to vice.\n\nHowever, I less consider the author than the system of the Assembly in\nperverting morality through his means. This I confess makes me nearly\ndespair of any attempt upon the minds of their followers, through\nreason, honour, or conscience. The great object of your tyrants is to\ndestroy the gentlemen of France; and for that purpose they destroy, to\nthe best of their power, all the effect of those relations which may\nrender considerable men powerful or even safe. To destroy that\norder, they vitiate the whole community. That no means may exist of\nconfederating against their tyranny, by the false sympathies of this\n\"Nouvelle Eloise\" they endeavour to subvert those principles of domestic\ntrust and fidelity, which form the discipline of social life. They\npropagate principles by which every servant may think it, if not his\nduty, at least his privilege, to betray his master. By these principles,\nevery considerable father of a family loses the sanctuary of his house.\nDebet sua cuique domus esse perfugium tutissimum, says the law, which\nyour legislators have taken so much pains first to decry, then to\nrepeal. They destroy all the tranquillity and security of domestic life;\nturning the asylum of the house into a gloomy prison, where the father\nof the family must drag out a miserable existence, endangered in\nproportion to the apparent means of his safety; where he is worse\nthan solitary in a crowd of domestics, and more apprehensive from his\nservants and inmates, than from the hired, bloodthirsty mob without\ndoors, who are ready to pull him to the lanterne. It is thus, and for\nthe same end, that they endeavour to destroy that tribunal of conscience\nwhich exists independently of edicts and decrees. Your despots govern\nby terror. They know that he who fears God fears nothing else: and\ntherefore they eradicate from the mind, through their Voltaire, their\nHelvetius, and the rest of that infamous gang, that only sort of\nfear which generates true courage. Their object is, that their\nfellow-citizens may be under the dominion of no awe, but that of their\ncommittee of research, and of their lanterne.\n\nHaving found the advantage of assassination in the formation of their\ntyranny, it is the grand resource in which they trust for the support\nof it. Whoever opposes any of their proceedings, or is suspected of a\ndesign to oppose them, is to answer it with his life, or the lives of\nhis wife and children. This infamous, cruel, and cowardly practice of\nassassination they have the imprudence to call MERCIFUL. They boast that\nthey operated their usurpation rather by terror than by force; and that\na few seasonable murders have prevented the bloodshed of many battles.\nThere is no doubt they will extend these acts of mercy whenever they\nsee an occasion. Dreadful, however, will be the consequences of their\nattempt to avoid the evils of war by the merciful policy of murder. If,\nby effectual punishment of the guilty, they do not wholly disavow that\npractice, and the threat of it too, as any part of their policy; if ever\na foreign prince enters into France, he must enter it as into a country\nof assassins. The mode of civilized war will not be practised; nor are\nthe French who act on the present system entitled to expect it. They,\nwhose known policy is to assassinate every citizen whom they suspect to\nbe discontented by their tyranny, and to corrupt the soldiery of every\nopen enemy, must look for no modified hostility. All war, which is not\nbattle, will be military execution. This will beget acts of retaliation\nfrom you; and every retaliation will beget a new revenge. The\nhell-hounds of war, on all sides, will be uncoupled and unmuzzled. The\nnew school of murder and barbarism, set up in Paris, having destroyed\n(so far as in it lies) all the other manners and principles which have\nhitherto civilized Europe, will destroy also the mode of civilized war,\nwhich, more than anything else, has distinguished the Christian world.\nSuch is the approaching golden age, which the Virgil of your assembly\nhas sung to his Pollios! (Mirabeau's speech concerning universal peace.)\n\n\n\n\nUNITY BETWEEN CHURCH AND STATE.\n\nThey take this tenet of the head and heart, not from the great name\nwhich it immediately bears, nor from the greater from whence it is\nderived; but from that which alone can give true weight and sanction\nto any learned opinion, the common nature and common relation of men.\nPersuaded that all things ought to be done with reference, and referring\nall to the point of reference to which all should be directed, they\nthink themselves bound, not only as individuals in the sanctuary of the\nheart, or as congregated in that personal capacity, to renew the memory\nof their high origin and caste; but also in their corporate character\nto perform their national homage to the institutor, and author, and\nprotector of civil society; without which civil society man could not by\nany possibility arrive at the perfection of which his nature is capable,\nnor even make a remote and faint approach to it. They conceive that\nHe who gave our nature to be perfected by our virtue, willed also the\nnecessary means of its perfection.--He willed therefore the state--He\nwilled its connection with the source and original archetype of all\nperfection. They who are convinced of this his will, what is the law\nof laws, and the sovereign of sovereigns, cannot think it reprehensible\nthat this our corporate fealty and homage, that this our recognition\nof a signiory paramount, I had almost said this oblation of the state\nitself, as a worthy offering on the high altar of universal praise,\nshould be performed as all public, solemn acts are performed, in\nbuildings, in music, in decoration, in speech, in the dignity of\npersons, according to the customs of mankind, taught by their nature;\nthat is, with modest splendour and unassuming state, with mild majesty\nand sober pomp. For those purposes they think some part of the wealth\nof the country is as usefully employed as it can be, in fomenting the\nluxury of individuals. It is the public ornament. It is the public\nconsolation. It nourishes the public hope. The poorest man finds his own\nimportance and dignity in it, whilst the wealth and pride of individuals\nat every moment makes the man of humble rank and fortune sensible of his\ninferiority, and degrades and vilifies his condition. It is for the man\nin humble life, and to raise his nature, and to put him in mind of a\nstate in which the privileges of opulence will cease, when he will be\nequal by nature, and may be more than equal by virtue, that this portion\nof the general wealth of his country is employed and sanctified.\n\nI assure you I do not aim at singularity. I give you opinions which have\nbeen accepted amongst us, from very early times to this moment, with a\ncontinued and general approbation, and which indeed are so worked into\nmy mind, that I am unable to distinguish what I have learned from others\nfrom the results of my own meditation.\n\nIt is on some such principles that the majority of the people of\nEngland, far from thinking a religious national establishment unlawful,\nhardly think it lawful to be without one. In France you are wholly\nmistaken if you do not believe us above all other things attached to it,\nand beyond all other nations; and when this people has acted unwisely\nand unjustifiably in its favour (as in some instances they have done\nmost certainly) in their very errors you will at least discover their\nzeal.\n\nThis principle runs through the whole system of their polity. They do\nnot consider their church establishment as convenient, but as essential\nto their state; not as a thing heterogeneous and inseparable; something\nadded for accommodation; what they may either keep or lay aside,\naccording to their temporary ideas of convenience. They consider it as\nthe foundation of their whole constitution, with which, and with every\npart of which, it holds an indissoluble union. Church and state are\nideas inseparable in their minds, and scarcely is the one ever mentioned\nwithout mentioning the other.\n\n(In preparing these pages for publication, the selector has discovered\nhow unconsciously he was indebted to the intellectual inspiration of\nBurke, in the following extract:--\n\n    \"Founded in Christ, and by Apostles form'd,\n    Glory of England! oh, my Mother Church,\n    Hoary with time, but all untouched in creed,\n    Firm to thy Master, by as fond a grasp\n    Of faith as Luther, with his free-born mind\n    Clung to Emmanuel,--doth thy soul remain.\n    But yet around Thee scowls a fierce array\n    Of Foes and Falsehoods; must'ring each their powers,\n    Triumphantly. And well may thoughtful Hearts\n    Heave with foreboding swell and heavy fears,\n    To mark, how mad opinion doth infect\n    Thy children; how thine apostolic claims\n    And love maternal are regarded now,\n    By creedless Vanity, or careless Vice.\n    For time there was, when peerless Hooker wrote,\n    And deep-soul'd Bacon taught the world to think,\n    When thou wert paramount,--thy cause sublime!\n    And in THY life, all Polity and Powers\n    The throne securing, or in law enshrined,\n    With all estates our balanced Realm contains,\n    In thee supreme, a master-virtue own'd\n    And honour'd. Church and State could then co-work,\n    Like soul and body in one breathing Form\n    Distinct, but undivided; each with rule\n    Essential to the kingdom's healthful frame,\n    Yet BOTH, in unity august and good\n    Together, under Christ their living Head,\n    A hallow'd commonwealth of powers achieved.\n    But now, in evil times, sectarian Will\n    Would split the Body, and to sects reduce\n    Our sainted Mother of th'imperial Isles,\n    Which have for ages from Her bosom drank\n    Those truths immortal, Life and Conscience need.\n    But never may the rude assault of hearts\n    Self-blinded, or the autocratic pride\n    Of Reason, by no hallowing faith subdued,\n\n    One lock of glory from Her rev'rend head\n    Succeed in tearing: Love, and Awe, and Truth\n    Her doctrines preach, with apostolic force:\n    Her creed is Unity, her head is Christ,\n    Her Forms primeval, and her Creed divine,\n    And Catholic, that crowning name she wears.\"\n\n    \"Luther,\" 6th edition 1852.)\n\n\n\n\nTRIPLE BASIS OF FRENCH REVOLUTION.\n\nInstead of the religion and the law by which they were in a great\npolitic communion with the Christian world, they have constructed their\nrepublic on three bases, all fundamentally opposite to those on which\nthe communities of Europe are built. Its foundation is laid in regicide,\nin jacobinism, and in atheism; and it has joined to those principles a\nbody of systematic manners, which secures their operation.\n\nIf I am asked, how I would be understood in the use of these terms,\nregicide, jacobinism, atheism, and a system of corresponding manners,\nand their establishment? I will tell you:--\n\nI.--REGICIDE.\n\nI call a commonwealth REGICIDE, which lays it down as a fixed law of\nnature, and a fundamental right of man, that all government, not being\na democracy, is a usurpation. That all kings, as such, are usurpers;\nand for being kings may and ought to be put to death, with their wives,\nfamilies, and adherents. The commonwealth which acts uniformly upon\nthose principles, and which, after abolishing every festival of\nreligion, chooses the most flagrant act of a murderous regicide treason\nfor a feast of eternal commemoration, and which forces all her people to\nobserve it--this I call REGICIDE BY ESTABLISHMENT.\n\nII.--JACOBINISM.\n\nJacobinism is the revolt of the enterprising talents of a country\nagainst its property. When private men form themselves into associations\nfor the purpose of destroying the pre-existing laws and institutions\nof their country; when they secure to themselves an army, by dividing\namongst the people of no property the estates of the ancient and lawful\nproprietors; when a state recognises those acts; when it does not make\nconfiscations for crimes, but makes crimes for confiscations; when it\nhas its principal strength, and all its resources, in such a violation\nof property; when it stands chiefly upon such a violation, massacring by\njudgments, or otherwise, those who make any struggle for their old legal\ngovernment, and their legal, hereditary, or acquired possessions--I call\nthis JACOBINISM BY ESTABLISHMENT.\n\nIII.--ATHEISM.\n\nI call it ATHEISM BY ESTABLISHMENT, when any state, as such, shall not\nacknowledge the existence of God as a moral governor of the world; when\nit shall offer to him no religious or moral worship;--when it shall\nabolish the Christian religion by a regular decree;--when it shall\npersecute with a cold, unrelenting, steady cruelty, by every mode of\nconfiscation, imprisonment, exile, and death, all its ministers;--when\nit shall generally shut up or pull down churches; when the few buildings\nwhich remain of this kind shall be opened only for the purpose of\nmaking a profane apotheosis of monsters, whose vices and crimes have\nno parallel amongst men, and whom all other men consider as objects of\ngeneral detestation, and the severest animadversion of law. When, in\nthe place of that religion of social benevolence, and of individual\nself-denial, in mockery of all religion, they institute impious,\nblasphemous, indecent theatric rites, in honour of their vitiated,\nperverted reason, and erect altars to the personification of their own\ncorrupted and bloody republic;--when schools and seminaries are founded\nat the public expense to poison mankind, from generation to generation,\nwith the horrible maxims of this impiety;--when wearied out with\nincessant martyrdom, and the cries of a people hungering and thirsting\nfor religion, they permit it only as a tolerated evil--I call this\nATHEISM BY ESTABLISHMENT.\n\n\n\n\nCORRESPONDENT SYSTEM OF MANNERS AND MORALS.\n\nWhen to these establishments of regicide, of jacobinism, and of atheism,\nyou add the CORRESPONDENT SYSTEM OF MANNERS, no doubt can be left on\nthe mind of a thinking man concerning their determined hostility to the\nhuman race. Manners are of more importance than laws. Upon them, in a\ngreat measure, the laws depend. The law touches us but here and there,\nand now and then. Manners are what vex or soothe, corrupt or purify,\nexalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by a constant, steady, uniform,\ninsensible operation, like that of the air we breathe in. They give\ntheir whole form and colour to our lives. According to their quality,\nthey aid morals, they supply them, or they totally destroy them. Of this\nthe new French legislators were aware; therefore, with the same method,\nand under the same authority, they settled a system of manners, the most\nlicentious, prostitute, and abandoned that ever has been known, and at\nthe same time the most coarse, rude, savage, and ferocious. Nothing in\nthe Revolution, no, not to a phrase or gesture, not to the fashion of a\nhat or a shoe, was left to accident. All has been the result of design;\nall has been matter of institution. No mechanical means could be devised\nin favour of this incredible system of wickedness and vice, that has\nnot been employed. The noblest passions, the love of glory, the love\nof country, have been debauched into means of its preservation and its\npropagation. All sorts of shows and exhibitions, calculated to inflame\nand vitiate the imagination, and pervert the moral sense, have been\ncontrived. They have sometimes brought forth five or six hundred drunken\nwomen, calling at the bar of the Assembly for the blood of their own\nchildren, as being royalists or constitutionalists. Sometimes they have\ngot a body of wretches, calling themselves fathers, to demand the murder\nof their sons, boasting that Rome had but one Brutus, but that they\ncould show five hundred. There were instances in which they inverted,\nand retaliated the impiety, and produced sons, who called for the\nexecution of their parents. The foundation of their republic is laid in\nmoral paradoxes. Their patriotism is always prodigy. All those instances\nto be found in history, whether real or fabulous, of a doubtful public\nspirit, at which morality is perplexed, reason is staggered, and from\nwhich affrighted nature recoils, are their chosen, and almost sole\nexamples for the instruction of their youth.\n\nThe whole drift of their institution is contrary to that of the wise\nlegislators of all countries, who aimed at improving instincts into\nmorals, and at grafting the virtues on the stock of the natural\naffections. They, on the contrary, have omitted no pains to eradicate\nevery benevolent and noble propensity in the mind of men. In their\nculture it is a rule always to graft virtues on vices. They think\neverything unworthy of the name of public virtue, unless it indicates\nviolence on the private. All their new institutions (and with them\neverything is new) strike at the root of our social nature. Other\nlegislators, knowing that marriage is the origin of all relations, and\nconsequently the first element of all duties, have endeavoured, by every\nart, to make it sacred. The Christian religion, by confining it to the\npairs, and by rendering that relation indissoluble, has by these\ntwo things done more towards the peace, happiness, settlement, and\ncivilization of the world, than by any other part in this whole scheme\nof Divine Wisdom. The direct contrary course has been taken in the\nsynagogue of antichrist, I mean in that forge and manufactury of all\nevil, the sect which predominated in the Constituent Assembly of 1789.\nThose monsters employed the same, or greater industry, to desecrate and\ndegrade that state, which other legislators have used to render it holy\nand honourable.\n\n\n\n\nFEROCITY OF JACOBINISM.\n\nAs to those whom they suffer to die a natural death, they do not permit\nthem to enjoy the last consolations of mankind, or those rights of\nsepulture, which indicate hope, and which mere nature has taught to\nmankind, in all countries, to soothe the afflictions, and to cover the\ninfirmity, of mortal condition. They disgrace men in the entry into\nlife, they vitiate and enslave them through the whole course of it, and\nthey deprive them of all comfort at the conclusion of their dishonoured\nand depraved existence. Endeavouring to persuade the people that they\nare no better than beasts, the whole body of their institution tends\nto make them beasts of prey, furious and savage. For this purpose\nthe active part of them is disciplined into a ferocity which has\nno parallel. To this ferocity there is joined not one of the rude,\nunfashioned virtues, which accompany the vices, where the whole are left\nto grow up together in the rankness of uncultivated nature. But nothing\nis left to nature in their systems.\n\nThe same discipline which hardens their hearts relaxes their morals.\nWhilst courts of justice were thrust out by revolutionary tribunals, and\nsilent churches were only the funeral monuments of departed religion,\nthere were no fewer than nineteen or twenty theatres, great and small,\nmost of them kept open at the public expense, and all of them crowded\nevery night. Among the gaunt, haggard forms of famine and nakedness,\namidst the yells of murder, the tears of affliction, and the cries of\ndespair, the song, the dance, the mimic scene, the buffoon laughter,\nwent on as regularly as in the gay hour of festive peace. I have it\nfrom good authority, that under the scaffold of judicial murder, and the\ngaping planks that poured down blood on the spectators, the space was\nhired out for a show of dancing dogs. I think, without concert, we have\nmade the very same remark on reading some of their pieces, which being\nwritten for other purposes, let us into a view of their social life. It\nstruck us that the habits of Paris had no resemblance to the finished\nvirtues, or to the polished vice, and elegant, though not blameless,\nluxury, of the capital of a great empire. Their society was more like\nthat of a den of outlaws upon a doubtful frontier; of a lewd tavern for\nthe revels and debauches of banditti, assassins, bravos, smugglers, and\ntheir more desperate paramours, mixed with bombastic players, the refuse\nand rejected offal of strolling theatres, puffing out ill-sorted verses\nabout virtue, mixed with the licentious and blasphemous songs, proper\nto the brutal and hardened course of life belonging to that sort of\nwretches. This system of manners in itself is at war with all orderly\nand moral society, and is in its neighbourhood unsafe. If great bodies\nof that kind were anywhere established in a bordering territory, we\nshould have a right to demand of their governments the suppression of\nsuch a nuisance.\n\n\n\n\nVOICE OF OPPRESSION.\n\nShould we not obtest Heaven, and whatever justice there is yet on earth?\nOppression makes wise men mad; but the distemper is still the madness\nof the wise, which is better than the sobriety of fools. The cry is\nthe voice of sacred misery, exalted not into wild raving, but into the\nsanctified frenzy of prophecy and inspiration--in that bitterness of\nsoul, in that indignation of suffering virtue, in that exaltation of\ndespair, would not persecuted English loyalty cry out, with an awful\nwarning voice, and denounce the destruction that waits on monarchs, who\nconsider fidelity to them as the most degrading of all vices; who suffer\nit to be punished as the most abominable of all crimes; and who have no\nrespect but for rebels, traitors, regicides, and furious negro slaves,\nwhose crimes have broken their chains? Would not this warm language\nof high indignation have more of sound reason in it, more of real\naffection, more of true attachment, than all the lullabies of\nflatterers, who would hush monarchs to sleep in the arms of death.\n\n\n\n\nBRITAIN VINDICATED IN HER WAR WITH FRANCE.\n\nThere is one thing in this business which appears to be wholly\nunaccountable, or accountable on a supposition I dare not entertain for\na moment. I cannot help asking, Why all this pains, to clear the British\nnation of ambition, perfidy, and the insatiate thirst of war? At what\nperiod of time was it that our country has deserved that load of infamy,\nof which nothing but preternatural humiliation in language and conduct\ncan serve to clear us? If we have deserved this kind of evil fame from\nanything we have done in a state of prosperity, I am sure that it is not\nan abject conduct in adversity than can clear our reputation. Well is it\nknown that ambition can creep as well as soar. The pride of no person in\na flourishing condition is more justly to be dreaded, than that of him\nwho is mean and cringing under a doubtful and unprosperous fortune. But\nit seems it was thought necessary to give some out-of-the-way proofs of\nour sincerity, as well as of our freedom from ambition. Is then fraud\nand falsehood become the distinctive character of Englishmen? Whenever\nyour enemy chooses to accuse you of perfidy and ill faith, will you put\nit into his power to throw you into the purgatory of self-humiliation?\nIs his charge equal to the finding of the grand jury of Europe, and\nsufficient to put you upon your trial? But on that trial I will defend\nthe English ministry. I am sorry that on some points I have, on the\nprinciples I have always opposed, so good a defence to make. THEY\nWERE NOT THE FIRST TO BEGIN THE WAR. THEY DID NOT EXCITE THE GENERAL\nCONFEDERACY IN EUROPE, WHICH WAS SO PROPERLY FORMED ON THE ALARM\nGIVEN BY THE JACOBINISM OF FRANCE. THEY DID NOT BEGIN WITH AN HOSTILE\nAGGRESSION ON THE REGICIDES, ARE ANY OF THEIR ALLIES. THESE PARRICIDES\nOF THEIR OWN COUNTRY, DISCIPLINING THEMSELVES FOR FOREIGN BY DOMESTIC\nVIOLENCE, WERE THE FIRST TO ATTACK A POWER THAT WAS OUR ALLY BY NATURE,\nBY HABIT, AND BY THE SANCTION OF MULTIPLIED TREATIES. (The Editor has\nventured to print these lines in italics, because it appears, while this\nselection from Burke is preparing for the press, an inflated demagogue\nhas not only dared to deny the claims of the duke of Wellington to be\nthe Hero of a nation's heart, but has also accused the illustrious Burke\nof misrepresenting historical facts connected with our war in the French\nrevolution. On which side both the truth and integrity of history are\nto be found, may safely be left to the moral decision of men who do\nNOT look at History through the exclusive medium of the market, and\nin listening to the voice of instruction are, at least, enabled to\ndistinguish the bray of an ass from the peal of a trumpet.) Is it not\ntrue, that they were the first to declare war upon this kingdom? Is\nevery word in the declaration from Downing-Street, concerning their\nconduct, and concerning ours and that of our allies, so obviously false,\nthat it is necessary to give some new-invented proofs of our good faith\nin order to expunge the memory of all this perfidy?\n\n\n\n\nPOLISH AND FRENCH REVOLUTION.\n\nA king without authority; nobles without union or subordination; a\npeople without arts, industry, commerce, or liberty; no order within, no\ndefence without; no effective public force, but a foreign force, which\nentered a naked country at will, and disposed of everything at pleasure.\nHere was a state of things which seemed to invite, and might perhaps\njustify, bold enterprise and desperate experiment. But in what manner\nwas this chaos brought into order? The means were as striking to the\nimagination, as satisfactory to the reason, and soothing to the moral\nsentiments. In contemplating that change, humanity has everything to\nrejoice and to glory in; nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to suffer.\nSo far as it has gone, it probably is the most pure and defecated public\ngood which ever has been conferred on mankind. We have seen anarchy and\nservitude at once removed; a throne strengthened for the protection\nof the people, without trenching on their liberties; all foreign cabal\nbanished, by changing the crown from elective to hereditary; and what\nwas a matter of pleasing wonder, we have seen a reigning king, from\nan heroic love to his country, exerting himself with all the toil,\nthe dexterity, the management, the intrigue, in favour of a family of\nstrangers, with which ambitious men labour for the aggrandizement of\ntheir own. Ten millions of men in a way of being freed gradually,\nand therefore safely to themselves and the state, not from civil or\npolitical chains, which, bad as they are, only fetter the mind, but\nfrom substantial personal bondage. Inhabitants of cities, before without\nprivileges, placed in the consideration which belongs to that improved\nand connecting situation of social life. One of the most proud,\nnumerous, and fierce bodies of nobility and gentry ever known in the\nworld, arranged only in the foremost rank of free and generous citizens.\nNot one man incurred loss, or suffered degradation. All, from the king\nto the day-labourer, were improved in their condition. Everything was\nkept in its place and order; but in that place and order everything was\nbetterd. To add to this happy wonder (this unheard-of conjunction of\nwisdom and fortune), not one drop of blood was spilled; no treachery;\nno outrage; no system of slander more cruel than the sword; no studied\ninsults on religion, morals, or manners; no spoil; no confiscation; no\ncitizen beggared; none imprisoned; none exiled: the whole was effected\nwith a policy, a discretion, a unanimity and secrecy, such as have\nnever been before known on any occasion; but such wonderful conduct was\nreserved for this glorious conspiracy in favour of the true and genuine\nrights and interests of men. Happy people, if they know how to proceed\nas they have begun! Happy prince, worthy to begin with splendour, or to\nclose with glory, a race of patriots and of kings: and to leave\n\n    \"A name, which ev'ry wind to heav'n would bear,\n    Which men to speak, and angels joy to hear.\"\n\nTo finish all--this great good, as in the instant it is, contains in\nit the seeds of all further improvement, and may be considered as in\na regular progress, because founded on similar principles, towards the\nstable excellency of a British constitution.\n\nHere was a matter for congratulation and for festive remembrance through\nages. Here moralists and divines might indeed relax in their temperance,\nto exhilarate their humanity. But mark the character of our faction. All\ntheir enthusiasm is kept for the French revolution. They cannot pretend\nthat France had stood so much in need of a change as Poland. They cannot\npretend that Poland has not obtained a better system of liberty, or of\ngovernment, than it enjoyed before. They cannot assert, that the Polish\nrevolution cost more dearly than that of France to the interests and\nfeelings of multitudes of men. But the cold and subordinate light in\nwhich they look upon the one, and the pains they take to preach up\nthe other of these revolutions, leave us no choice in fixing on their\nmotives. Both revolutions profess liberty as their object; but in\nobtaining this object the one proceeds from anarchy to order; the other\nfrom order to anarchy. The first secures its liberty by establishing its\nthrone; the other builds its freedom on the subversion of its monarchy.\nIn the one their means are unstained by crimes, and their settlement\nfavours morality. In the other, vice and confusion are in the very\nessence of their pursuit, and of their enjoyment. The circumstances\nin which these two events differ, must cause the difference we make in\ntheir comparative estimation. These turn the scale with the societies in\nfavour of France. Ferrum est quod amant. The frauds, the violences, the\nsacrileges, the havoc and ruin of families, the dispersion and exile of\nthe pride and flower of a great country, the disorder, the confusion,\nthe anarchy, the violation of property, the cruel murders, the inhuman\nconfiscations, and in the end the insolent domination of bloody,\nferocious, and senseless clubs--these are the things which they love and\nadmire. What men admire and love, they would surely act. Let us see what\nis done in France; and then let us undervalue any the slightest danger\nof falling into the hands of such a merciless and savage faction!\n\n\n\n\nEUROPE IN 1789.\n\nIn the long series of ages which have furnished the matter of history,\nnever was so beautiful and so august a spectacle presented to the moral\neye, as Europe afforded the day before the revolution in France. I knew\nindeed that this prosperity contained in itself the seeds of its own\ndanger. In one part of the society it caused laxity and debility; in\nthe other it produced bold spirits and dark designs. A false philosophy\npassed from academies into courts; and the great themselves were\ninfected with the theories which conducted to their ruin. Knowledge,\nwhich in the two last centuries either did not exist at all, or existed\nsolidly on right principles and in chosen hands, was now diffused,\nweakened, and perverted. General wealth loosened morals, relaxed\nvigilance, and increased presumption. Men of talent began to compare, in\nthe partition of the common stock of public prosperity, the proportions\nof the dividends with the merits of the claimants. As usual, they found\ntheir portion not equal to their estimate (or perhaps to the public\nestimate) of their own worth. When it was once discovered by the\nrevolution in France, that a struggle between establishment and rapacity\ncould be maintained, though but for one year, and in one place, I was\nsure that a practicable breach was made in the whole order of things\nand in every country. Religion, that held the materials of the fabric\ntogether, was first systematically loosened. All other opinions, under\nthe name of prejudices, must fall along with it; and property, left\nundefended by principles, became a repository of spoils to tempt\ncupidity, and not a magazine to furnish arms for defence. I knew that,\nattacked on all sides by the infernal energies of talents set in action\nby vice and disorder, authority could not stand upon authority alone. It\nwanted some other support than the poise of its own gravity. Situations\nformerly supported persons. It now became necessary that personal\nqualities should support situations. Formerly, where authority was\nfound, wisdom and virtue were presumed. But now the veil was torn,\nand, to keep off sacrilegious intrusion, it was necessary that in\nthe sanctuary of government something should be disclosed not only\nvenerable, but dreadful. Government was at once to show itself full\nof virtue and full of force. It was to invite partisans, by making it\nappear to the world that a generous cause was to be asserted; one fit\nfor a generous people to engage in. From passive submission was it to\nexpect resolute defence? No! It must have warm advocates and passionate\ndefenders, which a heavy, discontented acquiescence never could produce.\nWhat a base and foolish thing is it for any consolidated body of\nauthority to say, or to act as if it said, \"I will put my trust not in\nmy own virtue, but in your patience; I will indulge in effeminacy, in\nindolence, in corruption; I will give way to all my perverse and vicious\nhumours, because you cannot punish me without the hazard of ruining\nyourselves?\"\n\n\n\n\nATHEISM CANNOT REPENT.\n\nDisappointment and mortification undoubtedly they feel; but to them,\nrepentance is a thing impossible. They are atheists. This wretched\nopinion, by which they are possessed even to the height of fanaticism,\nleading them to exclude from their ideas of a commonwealth the vital\nprinciple of the physical, the moral, and the political world, engages\nthem in a thousand absurd contrivances to fill up this dreadful\nvoid. Incapable of innoxious repose, or honourable action, or wise\nspeculation, in the lurking-holes of a foreign land, into which (in a\ncommon ruin) they are driven to hide their heads amongst the innocent\nvictims of their madness, they are at this very hour as busy in the\nconfection of the dirt-pies of their imaginary constitutions, as if they\nhad not been quite fresh from destroying, by their impious and desperate\nvagaries, the finest country upon earth.\n\n\n\n\nOUTWARD DIGNITY OF THE CHURCH DEFENDED.\n\nThe English people are satisfied, that to the great the consolations of\nreligion are as necessary as its instructions. They too are among the\nunhappy. They feel personal pain, and domestic sorrow. In these they\nhave no privilege, but are subject to pay their full contingent to the\ncontributions levied on mortality. They want this sovereign balm under\ntheir gnawing cares and anxieties, which, being less conversant\nabout the limited wants of animal life, range without limit, and are\ndiversified by infinite combinations in the wild and unbounded regions\nof imagination. Some charitable dole is wanting to these, our often very\nunhappy brethren, to fill the gloomy void that reigns in minds which\nhave nothing on earth to hope or fear; something to relieve in the\nkilling languor and over-laboured lassitude of those who have nothing to\ndo; something to excite an appetite to existence in the palled satiety\nwhich attends on all pleasures which may be bought, where nature is not\nleft to her own process, where even desire is anticipated, and therefore\nfruition defeated by meditated schemes and contrivances of delight;\nand no interval, no obstacle, is interposed between the wish and the\naccomplishment.\n\nThe people of England know how little influence the teachers of religion\nare likely to have with the wealthy and powerful of long standing, and\nhow much less with the newly fortunate, if they appear in a manner no\nway assorted to those with whom they must associate, and over whom they\nmust even exercise, in some cases, something like an authority. What\nmust they think of that body of teachers, if they see it in no part\nabove the establishment of their domestic servants? If the poverty\nwere voluntary, there might be some difference. Strong instances of\nself-denial operate powerfully on our minds; and a man who has no wants\nhas obtained great freedom, and firmness, and even dignity. But as the\nmass of any description of men are but men, and their poverty cannot be\nvoluntary, that disrespect, which attends upon all lay property, will\nnot depart from the ecclesiastical. Our provident constitution has\ntherefore taken care that those who are to instruct presumptuous\nignorance, those who are to be censors over insolent vice, should\nneither incur their contempt, nor live upon their alms; nor will it\ntempt the rich to a neglect of the true medicine of their minds. For\nthese reasons, whilst we provide first for the poor, and with a parental\nsolicitude, we have not relegated religion (like something we were\nashamed to show) to obscure municipalities, or rustic villages. No! We\nwill have her to exalt her mitred front in courts and parliaments. We\nwill have her mixed throughout the whole mass of life, and blended\nwith all the classes of society. The people of England will show to the\nhaughty potentates of the world, and to their talking sophisters, that a\nfree, a generous, an informed nation honours the high magistrates of its\nchurch; that it will not suffer the insolence of wealth and titles, or\nany other species of proud pretension, to look down with scorn upon what\nthey look up to with reverence; nor presume to trample on that acquired\npersonal nobility, which they intend always to be, and which often is,\nthe fruit, not the reward (for what can be the reward), of learning,\npiety, and virtue. They can see, without pain or grudging, an archbishop\nprecede a duke. They can see a bishop of Durham, or a bishop of\nWinchester, in possession of ten thousand pounds a year; and cannot\nconceive why it is in worse hands than estates to the like amount in\nthe hands of this earl, or that squire; although it may be true, that\nso many dogs and horses are not kept by the former, and fed with the\nvictuals which ought to nourish the children of the people. It is true,\nthe whole church revenue is not always employed, and to every shilling,\nin charity; nor perhaps ought it; but something is generally so\nemployed. It is better to cherish virtue and humanity by leaving much\nto free will, even with some loss to the object, than to attempt to make\nmen mere machines and instruments of a political benevolence. The world\non the whole will gain by a liberty, without which virtue cannot exist.\n\nWhen once the commonwealth has established the estates of the church as\nproperty, it can, consistently, hear nothing of the more or the less.\nToo much and too little are treason against property. What evil can\narise from the quantity in any hand, whilst the supreme authority has\nthe full, sovereign superintendence over this, as over any property, to\nprevent every species of abuse; and, whenever it notably deviates, to\ngive to it a direction agreeable to the purposes of its institution. In\nEngland most of us conceive that it is envy and malignity towards those\nwho are often the beginners of their own fortune, and not a love of the\nself-denial and mortification of the ancient church, that makes some\nlook askance at the distinctions, and honours, and revenues, which,\ntaken from no person, are set apart for virtue. The ears of the people\nof England are distinguishing. They hear these men speak broad. Their\ntongue betrays them. Their language is in the patois of fraud; in the\ncant and gibberish of hypocrisy. The people of England must think so,\nwhen these praters affect to carry back the clergy to that primitive,\nevangelic poverty, which, in the spirit, ought always to exist in\nthem (and in us too, however we may like it), but in the thing must be\nvaried, when the relation of that body to the state is altered; when\nmanners, when modes of life, when indeed the whole order of human\naffairs, has undergone a total revolution. We shall believe those\nreformers then to be honest enthusiasts, not, as now we think them,\ncheats and deceivers, when we see them throwing their own goods into\ncommon, and submitting their own persons to the austere discipline of\nthe early church.\n\n\n\n\nDANGER OF ABSTRACT VIEWS.\n\nIt is not worth our while to discuss, like sophisters, whether, in\nno case, some evil, for the sake of some benefit, is to be tolerated.\nNothing universal can be rationally affirmed on any moral or any\npolitical subject. Pure metaphysical abstraction does not belong\nto these matters. The lines of morality are not like ideal lines of\nmathematics. They are broad and deep as well as long. They admit\nof exceptions; they demand modifications. These exceptions and\nmodifications are not made by the process of logic, but by the rules\nof prudence. Prudence is not only the first in rank of the virtues\npolitical and moral, but she is the director, the regulator, the\nstandard of them all. Metaphysics cannot live without definition; but\nprudence is cautious how she defines. Our courts cannot be more fearful\nin suffering fictitious cases to be brought before them for eliciting\ntheir determination on a point of law, than prudent moralists are in\nputting extreme and hazardous cases of conscience upon emergencies not\nexisting. Without attempting therefore to define, what never can be\ndefined, the case of a revolution in government, this, I think, may be\nsafely affirmed, that a sore and pressing evil is to be removed, and\nthat a good, great in its amount, and unequivocal in its nature, must\nbe probable almost to certainty, before the inestimable price of our own\nmorals, and the well-being of a number of our fellow-citizens, is paid\nfor a revolution. If ever we ought to be economists even to parsimony,\nit is in the voluntary production of evil. Every revolution contains in\nit something of evil.\n\n\n\n\nAPPEAL TO IMPARTIALITY.\n\nThe quality of the sentence does not however decide on the justice of\nit. Angry friendship is sometimes as bad as calm enmity. For this reason\nthe cold neutrality of abstract justice is, to a good and clear cause,\na more desirable thing than an affection liable to be any way disturbed.\nWhen the trial is by friends, if the decision should happen to be\nfavourable, the honour of the acquittal is lessened; if adverse, the\ncondemnation is exceedingly embittered. It is aggravated by coming from\nlips professing friendship, and pronouncing judgment with sorrow and\nreluctance. Taking in the whole view of life, it is more safe to live\nunder the jurisdiction of severe but steady reason, than under the\nempire of indulgent but capricious passion. It is certainly well for\nMr. Burke that there are impartial men in the world. To them I address\nmyself, pending the appeal which on his part is made from the living to\nthe dead, from the modern Whigs to the ancient.\n\n\n\n\nHISTORICAL ESTIMATE OF LOUIS XVI.\n\nThe unhappy Louis XVI. was a man of the best intentions that probably\never reigned. He was by no means deficient in talents. He had a\nmost laudable desire to supply by general reading, and even by\nthe acquisition of elemental knowledge, an education in all points\noriginally defective; but nobody told him (and it was no wonder he\nshould not himself divine it) that the world of which he read, and the\nworld in which he lived, were no longer the same. Desirous of doing\neverything for the best, fearful of cabal, distrusting his own judgment,\nhe sought his ministers of all kinds upon public testimony. But as\ncourts are the field for caballers, the public is the theatre for\nmountebanks and imposters. The cure for both those evils is in the\ndiscernment of the prince. But an accurate and penetrating discernment\nis what in a young prince could not be looked for.\n\nHis conduct in its principle was not unwise; but, like most other of his\nwell-meant designs, it failed in his hands. It failed partly from mere\nill fortune, to which speculators are rarely pleased to assign that\nvery large share to which she is justly entitled in human affairs. The\nfailure, perhaps, in part was owing to his suffering his system to\nbe vitiated and disturbed by those intrigues, which it is, humanly\nspeaking, impossible wholly to prevent in courts, or indeed under any\nform of government. However, with these aberrations, he gave himself\nover to a succession of the statesmen of public opinion. In other things\nhe thought that he might be a king on the terms of his predecessors. He\nwas conscious of the purity of his heart, and the general good tendency\nof his government. He flattered himself, as most men in his situation\nwill, that he might consult his ease without danger to his safety. It\nis not at all wonderful that both he and his ministers, giving way\nabundantly in other respects to innovation, should take up in policy\nwith the tradition of their monarchy. Under his ancestors the monarchy\nhad subsisted, and even been strengthened, by the generation or support\nof republics. First, the Swiss republics grew under the guardianship\nof the French monarchy. The Dutch republics were hatched and cherished\nunder the same incubation. Afterwards, a republican constitution was,\nunder the influence of France, established in the empire against the\npretensions of its chief. Even whilst the monarchy of France, by\na series of wars and negociations, and lastly, by the treaties of\nWestphalia, had obtained the establishment of the Protestants in Germany\nas a law of the empire, the same monarchy under Louis the Thirteenth,\nhad force enough to destroy the republican system of the Protestants at\nhome. Louis the Sixteenth was a diligent reader of history. But the very\nlamp of prudence blinded him. The guide of human life led him astray.\nA silent revolution in the moral world preceded the political, and\nprepared it. It became of more importance than ever what examples were\ngiven, and what measures were adopted. Their causes no longer lurked\nin the recesses of cabinets, or in the private conspiracies of the\nfactious. They were no longer to be controlled by the force and\ninfluence of the grandees, who formerly had been able to stir up\ntroubles by their discontents, and to quiet them by their corruption.\nThe chain of subordination, even in cabal and sedition, was broken in\nits most important links. It was no longer the great and the populace.\nOther interests were formed, other dependencies, other connections,\nother communications. The middle classes had swelled far beyond their\nformer proportion. Like whatever is the most effectively rich and great\nin society, these classes became the seat of all the active politics;\nand the preponderating weight to decide on them. There were all the\nenergies by which fortune is acquired; there the consequence of their\nsuccess. There were all the talents which assert their pretensions, and\nare impatient of the place which settled society prescribes to them.\nThese descriptions had got between the great and the populace; and the\ninfluence on the lower classes was with them. The spirit of ambition\nhad taken possession of this class as violent as ever it had done of any\nother. They felt the importance of this situation. The correspondence\nof the monied and the mercantile world, the literary intercourse of\nacademies, but, above all, the press, of which they had in a manner\nentire possession, made a kind of electric communication everywhere.\nThe press in reality has made every government, in its spirit, almost\ndemocratic. Without it the great, the first movements in this Revolution\ncould not, perhaps, have been given. But the spirit of ambition, now for\nthe first time connected with the spirit of speculation, was not to\nbe restrained at will. There was no longer any means of arresting a\nprinciple in its course. When Louis the Sixteenth, under the influence\nof the enemies to monarchy, meant to found but one republic, he set up\ntwo. When he meant to take away half the crown of his neighbour, he\nlost the whole of his own. Louis the Sixteenth could not with impunity\ncountenance a new republic: yet between his throne and that dangerous\nlodgment for an enemy, which he had erected, he had the whole Atlantic\nfor a ditch. He had for an outwork the English nation itself, friendly\nto liberty, adverse to that mode of it. He was surrounded by a rampart\nof monarchies, most of them allied to him, and generally under his\ninfluence. Yet even thus secured, a republic erected under his auspices,\nand dependent on his power, became fatal to his throne. The very money\nwhich he had lent to support this republic, by a good faith, which to\nhim operated as perfidy, was punctually paid to his enemies, and became\na resource in the hands of his assassins.\n\n\n\n\nNEGATIVE RELIGION A NULLITY.\n\nIf mere dissent from the church of Rome be a merit, he that dissents the\nmost perfectly is the most meritorious. In many points we hold strongly\nwith that church. He that dissents throughout with that church will\ndissent with the church of England, and then it will be a part of his\nmerit that he dissents with ourselves:--a whimsical species of merit for\nany set of men to establish. We quarrel to extremity with those who we\nknow agree with us in many things, but we are to be so malicious even\nin the principle of our friendships, that we are to cherish in our\nbosom those who accord with us in nothing, because whilst they despise\nourselves, they abhor, even more than we do, those with whom we have\nsome disagreement. A man is certainly the most perfect Protestant who\nprotests against the whole Christian religion. Whether a person's having\nno Christian religion be a title to favour, in exclusion to the largest\ndescription of Christians who hold all the doctrines of Christianity,\nthough holding along with them some errors and some superfluities, is\nrather more than any man, who has not become recreant and apostate from\nhis baptism, will, I believe, choose to affirm. The countenance given\nfrom a spirit of controversy to that negative religion may, by degrees,\nencourage light and unthinking people to a total indifference to\neverything positive in matters of doctrine; and, in the end, of practice\ntoo. If continued, it would play the game of that sort of active,\nproselytizing, and persecuting atheism, which is the disgrace and\ncalamity of our time, and which we see to be as capable of subverting a\ngovernment, as any mode can be of misguided zeal for better things.\n\n\n\n\nANTECHAMBER OF REGICIDE.\n\nTo those who do not love to contemplate the fall of human greatness,\nI do not know a more mortifying spectacle, than to see the assembled\nmajesty of the crowned heads of Europe waiting as patient suitors in\nthe antechamber of regicide. They wait, it seems, until the sanguinary\ntyrant Carnot shall have snorted away the fumes of the indigested blood\nof his sovereign. Then, when, sunk on the down of usurped pomp, he shall\nhave sufficiently indulged his meditations with what monarch he shall\nnext glut his ravening maw, he may condescend to signify that it is his\npleasure to be awake; and that he is at leisure to receive the proposals\nof his high and mighty clients for the terms on which he may respite\nthe execution of the sentence he has passed upon them. At the opening of\nthose doors, what a sight it must be to behold the plenipotentiaries of\nroyal impotence, in the precedency which they will intrigue to obtain,\nand which will be granted to them according to the seniority of their\ndegradation, sneaking into the regicide presence, and with the relics\nof the smile, which they had dressed up for the levee of their masters,\nstill flickering on their curled lips, presenting the faded remains of\ntheir courtly graces, to meet the scornful, ferocious, sardonic grin of\na bloody ruffian, who, whilst he is receiving their homage, is\nmeasuring them with his eye, and fitting to their size the slider of\nhis guillotine! These ambassadors may easily return as good courtiers as\nthey went; but can they ever return from that degrading residence, loyal\nand faithful subjects; or with any true affection to their master, or\ntrue attachment to the constitution, religion, or laws of their country?\nThere is great danger that they, who enter smiling into this Trophonian\ncave, will come out of it sad and serious conspirators; and such will\ncontinue as long as they live. They will become true conductors of\ncontagion to every country which has had the misfortune to send them\nto the source of that electricity. At best they will become totally\nindifferent to good and evil, to one institution or another. This\nspecies of indifference is but too generally distinguishable in those\nwho have been much employed in foreign courts; but in the present case\nthe evil must be aggravated without measure; for they go from their\ncountry, not with the pride of the old character, but in a state of the\nlowest degradation, and what must happen in their place of residence\ncan have no effect in raising them to the level of true dignity, or of\nchaste self-estimation, either as men, or as representatives of crowned\nheads.\n\n\n\n\nTREMENDOUSNESS OF WAR.\n\nAs if war was a matter of experiment! As if you could take it up or lay\nit down as an idle frolic! As if the dire goddess that presides over it,\nwith her murderous spear in hand, and her gorgon at her breast, was a\ncoquette to be flirted with! We ought with reverence to approach that\ntremendous divinity, that loves courage, but commands counsel. War never\nleaves where it found a nation. It is never to be entered into without\nmature deliberation; not a deliberation lengthened out into a perplexing\nindecision, but a deliberation leading to a sure and fixed judgment.\nWhen so taken up, it is not to be abandoned without reason as valid, as\nfully, and as extensively considered. Peace may be made as unadvisedly\nas war. Nothing is so rash as fear; and the councils of pusillanimity\nvery rarely put off, whilst they are always sure to aggravate, the evils\nfrom which they would fly.\n\n\n\n\nENGLISH OFFICERS.\n\nThere is no want of officers, that I have ever understood, for the new\nships which we commission, or the new regiments which we raise. In the\nnature of things it is not with their persons, that the higher classes\nprincipally pay their contingent to the demands of war. There is\nanother, and not less important part, which rests with almost exclusive\nweight upon them. They furnish the means,\n\n    \"How war may best upheld\n    Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold,\n    In all her equipage.\"\n\nNot that they are exempt from contributing also by their personal\nservice in the fleets and armies of their country. They do contribute,\nand in their full and fair proportion, according to the relative\nproportion of their numbers in the community. They contribute all the\nmind that actuates the whole machine. The fortitude required of them is\nvery different from the unthinking alacrity of the common soldier, or\ncommon sailor, in the face of danger and death; it is not a passion,\nit is not an impulse, it is not a sentiment; it is a cool, steady,\ndeliberate principle, always present, always equable; having no\nconnection with anger; tempering honour with prudence; incited,\ninvigorated, and sustained, by a generous love of fame; informed,\nmoderated, and directed by an enlarged knowledge of its own great public\nends; flowing in one blended stream from the opposite sources of the\nheart and the head; carrying in itself its own commission, and proving\nits title to every other command, by the first and most difficult\ncommand, that of the bosom in which it resides: it is a fortitude,\nwhich unites with the courage of the field the more exalted and refined\ncourage of the council; which knows as well to retreat, as to advance;\nwhich can conquer as well by delay, as by the rapidity of a march, or\nthe impetuosity of an attack; which can be, with Fabius, the black\ncloud that lowers on the tops of the mountains, or with Scipio, the\nthunderbolt of war; which, undismayed by false shame, can patiently\nendure the severest trial that a gallant spirit can undergo, in the\ntaunts and provocations of the enemy, the suspicions, the cold respect,\nand \"mouth-honour\" of those, from whom it should meet a cheerful\nobedience; which, undisturbed by false humanity, can calmly assume that\nmost awful moral responsibility of deciding, when victory may be too\ndearly purchased by the loss of a single life, and when the safety and\nglory of their country may demand the certain sacrifice of thousands.\nDifferent stations of command may call for different modifications\nof this fortitude; but the character ought to be the same in all. And\nnever, in the most \"palmy state\" of our martial renown, did it shine\nwith brighter lustre than in the present sanguinary and ferocious\nhostilities, wherever the British arms have been carried.\n\n\n\n\nDIPLOMACY OF HUMILIATION.\n\nIt happens frequently that pride may reject a public advance, while\ninterest listens to a secret suggestion of advantage. The opportunity\nhas been afforded. At a very early period in the diplomacy of\nhumiliation, a gentleman was sent on an errand, of which, from the\nmotive of it, whatever the event might be, we can never be ashamed.\nHumanity cannot be degraded by humiliation. It is its very character to\nsubmit to such things. There is a consanguinity between benevolence and\nhumility. They are virtues of the same stock. Dignity is of as good a\nrace; but it belongs to the family of fortitude. In the spirit of that\nbenevolence we sent a gentleman to beseech the Directory of regicide not\nto be quite so prodigal as their republic had been of judicial murder.\nWe solicited them to spare the lives of some unhappy persons of the\nfirst distinction, whose safety at other times could not have been an\nobject of solicitation. They had quitted France on the faith of the\ndeclaration of the rights of citizens. They never had been in the\nservice of the regicides, nor at their hands had received any stipend.\nThe very system and constitution of government that now prevails was\nsettled subsequently to their emigration. They were under the protection\nof Great Britain, and in his majesty's pay and service. Not an hostile\ninvasion, but the disasters of the sea, had thrown them upon a shore\nmore barbarous and inhospitable than the inclement ocean under the most\npitiless of its storms. Here was an opportunity to express a feeling for\nthe miseries of war; and to open some sort of conversation, which (after\nour public overtures had glutted their pride), at a cautious and jealous\ndistance, might lead to something like an accommodation. What was the\nevent? A strange uncouth thing, a theatrical figure of the opera, his\nhead shaded with three-coloured plumes, his body fantastically habited,\nstrutted from the back scenes, and, after a short speech, in the mock\nheroic falsetto of stupid tragedy, delivered the gentleman who came to\nmake the representation into the custody of a guard, with directions not\nto lose sight of him for a moment; and then ordered him to be sent from\nParis in two hours.\n\n\n\n\nRELATION OF WEALTH TO NATIONAL DIGNITY.\n\nWe have a vast interest to preserve, and we possess great means of\npreserving it: but it is to be remembered that the artificer may be\nencumbered by his tools, and that resources may be among impediments.\nIf wealth is the obedient and laborious slave of virtue and of public\nhonour, then wealth is in its place, and has its use: but if this\norder is changed, and honour is to be sacrificed to the conservation of\nriches,--riches, which have neither eyes nor hands, nor anything truly\nvital in them, cannot long survive the being of their vivifying powers,\ntheir legitimate masters, and their potent protectors. If we command our\nwealth, we shall be rich and free: if our wealth command us, we are\npoor indeed. We are bought by the enemy with the treasure from our own\ncoffers. Too great a sense of the value of a subordinate interest may be\nthe very source of its danger, as well as the certain ruin of interests\nof a superior order. Often has a man lost his all because he would not\nsubmit to hazard all in defending it. A display of our wealth before\nrobbers is not the way to restrain their boldness, or to lessen their\nrapacity. This display is made, I know, to persuade the people of\nEngland that thereby we shall awe the enemy, and improve the terms\nof our capitulation: it is made, not that we should fight with more\nanimation, but that we should supplicate with better hopes. We are\nmistaken. We have an enemy to deal with who never regarded our contest\nas a measuring and weighing of purses. He is the Gaul that puts his\nSWORD into the scale. He is more tempted with our wealth as booty, than\nterrified with it as power. But let us be rich or poor, let us be either\nin what proportion we may, nature is false or this is true, that where\nthe essential public force (of which money is but a part) is in any\ndegree upon a par in a conflict between nations, that state, which is\nresolved to hazard its existence rather than to abandon its objects,\nmust have an infinite advantage over that which is resolved to yield\nrather than to carry its resistance beyond a certain point. Humanly\nspeaking, that people which bounds its efforts only with its being, must\ngive the law to that nation which will not push its opposition beyond\nits convenience.\n\n\n\n\nAMBASSADORS OF INFAMY.\n\nOn this their gaudy day the new regicide Directory sent for their\ndiplomatic rabble, as bad as themselves in principle, but infinitely\nworse in degradation. They called them out by a sort of roll of their\nnations, one after another, much in the manner in which they called\nwretches out of their prison to the guillotine. When these ambassadors\nof infamy appeared before them, the chief director, in the name of the\nrest, treated each of them with a short, affected, pedantic, insolent,\ntheatric laconium: a sort of epigram of contempt. When they had thus\ninsulted them in a style and language which never before was heard, and\nwhich no sovereign would for a moment endure from another, supposing any\nof them frantic enough to use it; to finish their outrage, they drummed\nand trumpeted the wretches out of their hall of audience.\n\nAmong the objects of this insolent buffoonery was a person supposed to\nrepresent the king of Prussia. To this worthy representative they did\nnot so much as condescend to mention his master; they did not seem to\nknow that he had one; they addressed themselves solely to Prussia in\nthe abstract, notwithstanding the infinite obligation they owed to their\nearly protector for their first recognition and alliance, and for the\npart of his territory he gave into their hands for the first-fruits of\nhis homage. None but dead monarchs are so much as mentioned by them, and\nthose only to insult the living by an invidious comparison. They told\nthe Prussians they ought to learn, after the example of Frederick the\nGreat, a love for France. What a pity it is, that he, who loved France\nso well as to chastise it, was not now alive, by an unsparing use of\nthe rod (which indeed he would have spared little) to give them another\ninstance of his paternal affection. But the Directory were mistaken.\nThese are not days in which monarchs value themselves upon the title of\nGREAT: they are grown PHILOSOPHIC: they are satisfied to be good. Your\nlordship will pardon me for this no very long reflection on the short\nbut excellent speech of the plumed director to the ambassador of\nCappadocia. The imperial ambassador was not in waiting, but they found\nfor Austria a good Judean representation. With great judgment his\nhighness the Grand Duke had sent the most atheistic coxcomb to be found\nin Florence to represent, at the bar of impiety, the house of apostolic\nmajesty, and the descendants of the pious, though high-minded, Maria\nTheresa. He was sent to humble the whole race of Austria before those\ngrim assassins, reeking with the blood of the daughter of Maria Theresa,\nwhom they sent, half-dead, in a dung-cart, to a cruel execution; and\nthis true-born son of apostasy and infidelity, this renegado from the\nfaith, and from all honour and all humanity, drove an Austrian coach\nover the stones which were yet wet with her blood;--with that blood\nwhich dropped every step through her tumbril, all the way she was drawn\nfrom the horrid prison, in which they had finished all the cruelty and\nhorrors, not executed in the face of the sun! The Hungarian subjects of\nMaria Theresa, when they drew their swords to defend her rights against\nFrance, called her, with correctness of truth, though not with the same\ncorrectness, perhaps, of grammar, a king: Moriamur pro rege nostro Maria\nTheresa.--She lived and died a king, and others will have subjects ready\nto make the same vow, when, in either sex, they show themselves real\nkings.\n\n\n\n\nDIFFICULTY THE PATH TO GLORY.\n\nWhen you choose an arduous and slippery path, God forbid that any weak\nfeelings of my declining age, which calls for soothings and supports,\nand which can have none but from you, should make me wish that you\nshould abandon what you are about, or should trifle with it. In this\nhouse we submit, though with troubled minds, to that order which\nhas connected all great duties with toils and with perils, which has\nconducted the road to glory through the regions of obloquy and reproach,\nand which will never suffer the disparaging alliance of spurious, false,\nand fugitive praise with genuine and permanent reputation. We know\nthat the Power which has settled that order, and subjected you to it by\nplacing you in the situation you are in, is able to bring you out of it\nwith credit and with safety. His will be done. All must come right. You\nmay open the way with pain, and under reproach. Others will pursue it\nwith ease and with applause.\n\n\n\n\nROBESPIERRE AND HIS COUNTERPARTS.\n\nThey have murdered one Robespierre. This Robespierre they tell us was a\ncruel tyrant, and now that he is put out of the way, all will go well in\nFrance. Astraea will again return to that earth from which she has been\nan emigrant, and all nations will resort to her golden scales. It is\nvery extraordinary, that the very instant the mode of Paris is known\nhere, it becomes all the fashion in London. This is their jargon. It\nis the old bon ton of robbers, who cast their common crimes on the\nwickedness of their departed associates. I care little about the memory\nof this same Robespierre. I am sure he was an execrable villain. I\nrejoiced at his punishment neither more nor less than I should at the\nexecution of the present Directory, or any of its members. But who gave\nRobespierre the power of being a tyrant? and who were the instruments of\nhis tyranny? The present virtuous constitution-mongers. He was a tyrant,\nthey were his satellites and his hangmen. Their sole merit is in the\nmurder of their colleague. They have expiated their other murders by a\nnew murder. It has always been the case among this banditti. They have\nalways had the knife at each other's throats, after they had almost\nblunted it at the throats of every honest man. These people thought\nthat, in the commerce of murder, he was like to have the better of the\nbargain if any time was lost; they therefore took one of their short\nrevolutionary methods, and massacred him in a manner so perfidious and\ncruel, as would shock all humanity, if the stroke was not struck by\nthe present rulers on one of their own associates. But this last act of\ninfidelity and murder is to expiate all the rest, and to qualify them\nfor the amity of a humane and virtuous sovereign and civilized people.\nI have heard that a Tartar believes, when he has killed a man, that all\nhis estimable qualities pass with his clothes and arms to the murderer:\nbut I have never heard that it was the opinion of any savage Scythian,\nthat, if he kills a brother villain, he is, ipso facto, absolved of all\nhis own offences. The Tartarian doctrine is the most tenable opinion.\nThe murderers of Robespierre, besides what they are entitled to by being\nengaged in the same tontine of infamy, are his representatives, have\ninherited all his murderous qualities in addition to their own private\nstock. But it seems we are always to be of a party with the last and\nvictorious assassins. I confess I am of a different mind, and am rather\ninclined, of the two, to think and speak less hardly of a dead ruffian,\nthan to associate with the living. I could better bear the stench of the\ngibbeted murderer than the society of the bloody felons who yet annoy\nthe world. Whilst they wait the recompense due to their ancient crimes,\nthey merit new punishment by the new offences they commit. There is a\nperiod to the offences of Robespierre. They survive in his assassins.\nBetter a living dog, says the old proverb, than a dead lion; not so\nhere. Murderers and hogs never look well till they are hanged. From\nvillany no good can arise, but in the example of its fate. So I leave\nthem their dead Robespierre, either to gibbet his memory, or to deify\nhim in their Pantheon with their Marat and their Mirabeau.\n\n\n\n\nACCUMULATION, A STATE PRINCIPLE.\n\nThere must be some impulse besides public spirit to put private interest\ninto motion along with it. Monied men ought to be allowed to set a value\non their money; if they did not, there could be no monied men. This\ndesire of accumulation is a principle without which the means of\ntheir service to the state could not exist. The love of lucre, though\nsometimes carried to a ridiculous, sometimes to a vicious excess, is\nthe grand cause of prosperity to all states. In this natural, this\nreasonable, this powerful, this prolific principle, it is for the\nsatirist to expose the ridiculous: it is for the moralist to censure\nthe vicious; it is for the sympathetic heart to reprobate the hard and\ncruel; it is for the judge to animadvert on the fraud, the extortion,\nand the oppression; but it is for the statesman to employ it as he finds\nit, with all its concomitant excellencies, with all its imperfections\non its head. It is his part, in this case, as it is in all other cases\nwhere he is to make use of the general energies of nature, to take them\nas he finds them.\n\n\n\n\nWARNING FOR A NATION.\n\nWith all these causes of corruption, we may well judge what the general\nfashion of mind will be through both sexes and all conditions. Such\nspectacles and such examples will overbear all the laws that ever\nblackened the cumbrous volumes of our statutes. When royalty shall have\ndisavowed itself; when it shall have relaxed all the principles of its\nown support; when it has rendered the system of regicide fashionable,\nand received it as triumphant in the very persons who have consolidated\nthat system by the perpetration of every crime; who have not only\nmassacred the prince, but the very laws and magistrates which were\nthe support of royalty, and slaughtered, with an indiscriminate\nproscription, without regard to either sex or age, every person that was\nsuspected of an inclination to king, law, or magistracy,--I say, will\nany one dare to be loyal? Will any one presume, against both authority\nand opinion, to hold up this unfashionable, antiquated, exploded\nconstitution? The Jacobin faction in England must grow in strength and\naudacity; it will be supported by other intrigues, and supplied by other\nresources than yet we have seen in action. Confounded at its growth, the\ngovernment may fly to parliament for its support. But who will answer\nfor the temper of a house of commons elected under these circumstances?\nWho will answer for the courage of a house of commons to arm the crown\nwith the extraordinary powers that it may demand? But the ministers will\nnot venture to ask half of what they know they want. They will lose half\nof that half in the contest: and when they have obtained their nothing,\nthey will be driven by the cries of faction either to demolish the\nfeeble works they have thrown up in a hurry, or, in effect, to abandon\nthem. As to the House of Lords, it is not worth mentioning. The peers\nought naturally to be the pillars of the crown; but when their titles\nare rendered contemptible, and their property invidious, and a part of\ntheir weakness, and not of their strength, they will be found so many\ndegraded and trembling individuals, who will seek by evasion to put off\nthe evil day of their ruin. Both houses will be in perpetual oscillation\nbetween abortive attempts at energy, and still more unsuccessful\nattempts at compromise. You will be impatient of your disease, and\nabhorrent of your remedy. A spirit of subterfuge and a tone of apology\nwill enter into all your proceedings, whether of law or legislation.\nYour judges, who now sustain so masculine an authority, will appear more\non their trial than the culprits they have before them. The awful frown\nof criminal justice will be smoothed into the silly smile of seduction.\nJudges will think to insinuate and soothe the accused into conviction\nand condemnation, and to wheedle to the gallows the most artful of all\ndelinquents. But they will not be so wheedled. They will not submit\neven to the appearance of persons on their trial. Their claim to this\nexception will be admitted. The place in which some of the greatest\nnames which ever distinguished the history of this country have stood,\nwill appear beneath their dignity. The criminal will climb from the dock\nto the side-bar, and take his place and his tea with the counsel. From\nthe bar of the counsel, by a natural progress, he will ascend to the\nbench, which long before had been virtually abandoned. They who escape\nfrom justice will not suffer a question upon reputation. They will take\nthe crown of the causeway: they will be revered as martyrs; they will\ntriumph as conquerors. Nobody will dare to censure that popular part of\nthe tribunal, whose only restraint on misjudgment is the censure of the\npublic. They who find fault with the decision will be represented as\nenemies to the institution. Juries that convict for the crown will be\nloaded with obloquy. The juries who acquit will be held up as models\nof justice. If parliament orders a prosecution, and fails (as fail\nit will), it will be treated to its face as guilty of a conspiracy\nmaliciously to prosecute. Its care in discovering a conspiracy against\nthe state will be treated as a forged plot to destroy the liberty of the\nsubject; every such discovery, instead of strengthening government, will\nweaken its reputation.\n\nIn this state things will be suffered to proceed, lest measures of\nvigour should precipitate a crisis. The timid will act thus from\ncharacter; the wise from necessity. Our laws had done all that the old\ncondition of things dictated to render our judges erect and independent;\nbut they will naturally fail on the side upon which they had taken\nno precautions. The judicial magistrates will find themselves safe\nas against the crown, whose will is not their tenure; the power of\nexecuting their office will be held at the pleasure of those who deal\nout fame or abuse as they think fit. They will begin rather to consult\ntheir own repose and their own popularity, than the critical and\nperilous trust that is in their hands. They will speculate on\nconsequences when they see at court an ambassador whose robes are lined\nwith a scarlet dyed in the blood of judges. It is no wonder, nor are\nthey to blame, when they are to consider how they shall answer for\ntheir conduct to the criminal of to-day turned into the magistrate of\nto-morrow.\n\n\n\n\nSANTERRE AND TALLIEN.\n\nIs it only an oppressive nightmare with which we have been loaded? Is\nit then all a frightful dream, and are there no regicides in the world?\nHave we not heard of that prodigy of a ruffian, who would not suffer his\nbenignant sovereign, with his hands tied behind him, and stripped for\nexecution, to say one parting word to his deluded people;--of Santerre,\nwho commanded the drums and trumpets to strike up to stifle his voice,\nand dragged him backward to the machine of murder? This nefarious\nvillain (for a few days I may call him so) stands high in France, as in\na republic of robbers and murderers he ought. What hinders this monster\nfrom being sent as ambassador to convey to his majesty the first\ncompliments of his brethren, the regicide Directory? They have none that\ncan represent them more properly. I anticipate the day of his arrival.\nHe will make his public entry into London on one of the pale horses of\nhis brewery. As he knows that we are pleased with the Paris taste\nfor the orders of knighthood, he will fling a bloody sash across his\nshoulders with the order of the Holy Guillotine, surmounting the Crown,\nappendant to the riband. Thus adorned, he will proceed from Whitechapel\nto the further end of Pall Mall, all the music of London playing the\nMarseillais hymn before him, and escorted by a chosen detachment of\nthe Legion de l'Echaffaud. It were only to be wished, that no ill-fated\nloyalist for the imprudence of his zeal may stand in the pillory at\nCharing Cross, under the statue of King Charles the First, at the\ntime of this grand procession, lest some of the rotten eggs, which the\nconstitutional society shall let fly at his indiscreet head, may hit the\nvirtuous murderer of his king. They might soil the state dress, which\nthe ministers of so many crowned heads have admired, and in which Sir\nClement Cotterel is to introduce him at St. James's.\n\nIf Santerre cannot be spared from the constitutional butcheries at home,\nTallien may supply his place, and, in point of figure, with advantage.\nHe has been habituated to commissions; and he is as well qualified as\nSanterre for this. Nero wished the Roman people had but one neck. The\nwish of the more exalted Tallien, when he sat in judgment, was, that his\nsovereign had eighty-three heads, that he might send one to every one of\nthe departments. Tallien will make an excellent figure at Guildhall at\nthe next sheriff's feast. He may open the ball with my Lady Mayoress.\nBut this will be after he has retired from the public table, and gone\ninto the private room for the enjoyment of more social and unreserved\nconversation with the ministers of state and the judges of the bench.\nThere these ministers and magistrates will hear him entertain the worthy\naldermen with an instructing and pleasing narrative of the manner in\nwhich he made the rich citizens of Bordeaux squeak, and gently led\nthem by the public credit of the guillotine to disgorge their\nanti-revolutionary pelf.\n\nAll this will be the display, and the town-talk, when our regicide is on\na visit of ceremony. At home nothing will equal the pomp and splendour\nof the Hotel de la Republique. There another scene of gaudy grandeur\nwill be opened. When his citizen excellency keeps the festival, which\nevery citizen is ordered to observe, for the glorious execution of Louis\nthe Sixteenth, and renews his oath of detestation of kings, a\ngrand ball, of course, will be given on the occasion. Then what a\nhurly-burly;--what a crowding;--what a glare of a thousand flambeaux in\nthe square;--what a clamour of footmen contending at the door;--what a\nrattling of a thousand coaches of duchesses, countesses, and Lady Marys,\nchoking the way, and overturning each other, in a struggle who should be\nfirst to pay her court to the Citoyenne, the spouse of the twenty-first\nhusband, he the husband of the thirty-first wife, and to hail her in the\nrank of honourable matrons, before the four days' duration of marriage\nis expired!--Morals, as they were:--decorum, the great outguard of\nthe sex, and the proud sentiment of honour, which makes virtue more\nrespectable where it is, and conceals human frailty where virtue may not\nbe, will be banished from this land of propriety, modesty, and reserve.\n\n\n\n\nSIR SYDNEY SMITH.\n\nThis officer having attempted, with great gallantry, to cut out a\nvessel from one of the enemy's harbours, was taken after an obstinate\nresistance, such as obtained him the marked respect of those who were\nwitnesses of his valour, and knew the circumstances in which it was\ndisplayed. Upon his arrival at Paris, he was instantly thrown into\nprison; where the nature of his situation will best be understood,\nby knowing, that amongst its MITIGATIONS, was the permission to walk\noccasionally in the court, and to enjoy the privilege of shaving\nhimself. On the old system of feelings and principles, his sufferings\nmight have been entitled to consideration, and even in a comparison with\nthose of citizen La Fayette, to a priority in the order of compassion.\nIf the ministers had neglected to take any steps in his favour, a\ndeclaration of the sense of the House of Commons would have stimulated\nthem to their duty. If they had caused a representation to be made, such\na proceeding would have added force to it. If reprisal should be thought\nadvisable, the address of the House would have given an additional\nsanction to a measure which would have been, indeed, justifiable without\nany other sanction than its own reason. But, no. Nothing at all like\nit. In fact, the merit of Sir Sydney Smith, and his claim on British\ncompassion, was of a kind altogether different from that which\ninterested so deeply the authors of the motion in favour of citizen La\nFayette. In my humble opinion, Captain Sir Sydney Smith has another sort\nof merit with the British nation, and something of a higher claim\non British humanity, than citizen La Fayette. Faithful, zealous, and\nardent, in the service of his king and country; full of spirit; full of\nresources; going out of the beaten road, but going right, because his\nuncommon enterprise was not conducted by a vulgar judgment;--in his\nprofession, Sir Sydney Smith might be considered as a distinguished\nperson, if any person could well be distinguished in a service in which\nscarcely a commander can be named without putting you in mind of some\naction of intrepidity, skill, and vigilance, that has given them a fair\ntitle to contend with any men, and in any age. But I will say nothing\nfarther of the merits of Sir Sydney Smith: the mortal animosity of\nthe regicide enemy supersedes all other panegyric. Their hatred is a\njudgment in his favour without appeal. At present he is lodged in the\ntower of the Temple, the last prison of Louis the Sixteenth, and the\nlast but one of Maria Antonietta of Austria; the prison of Louis the\nSeventeenth; the prison of Elizabeth of Bourbon. There he lies, unpitied\nby the grand philanthropy, to meditate upon the fate of those who are\nfaithful to their king and country. Whilst this prisoner, secluded\nfrom intercourse, was indulging in these cheering reflections, he might\npossibly have had the further consolation of learning (by means of the\ninsolent exultation of his guards), that there was an English ambassador\nat Paris; he might have had the proud comfort of hearing, that this\nambassador had the honour of passing his mornings in respectful\nattendance at the office of a regicide pettifogger; and that in the\nevening he relaxed in the amusements of the opera, and in the spectacle\nof an audience totally new; an audience in which he had the pleasure of\nseeing about him not a single face that he could formerly have known in\nParis; but in the place of that company, one indeed more than equal\nto it in display of gaiety, splendour, and luxury; a set of abandoned\nwretches, squandering in insolent riot the spoils of their bleeding\ncountry. A subject of profound reflection both to the prisoner and to\nthe ambassador.\n\n\n\n\nA MORAL DISTINCTION.\n\nI think we might have found, before the rude hand of insolent office was\non our shoulder, and the staff of usurped authority brandished over our\nheads, that contempt of the suppliant is not the best forwarder of a\nsuit; that national disgrace is not the high road to security, much less\nto power and greatness. Patience, indeed, strongly indicates the love of\npeace; but mere love does not always lead to enjoyment. It is the power\nof winning that palm which ensures our wearing it. Virtues have their\nplace; and out of their place they hardly deserve the name. They pass\ninto the neighbouring vice. The patience of fortitude and the endurance\nof pusillanimity are things very different, as in their principle, so in\ntheir effects.\n\n\n\n\nINFIDELS AND THEIR POLICY.\n\nIn the revolution of France two sorts of men were principally\nconcerned in giving a character and determination to its pursuits: the\nphilosophers and the politicians. They took different ways, but they met\nin the same end. The philosophers had one predominant object, which\nthey pursued with a fanatical fury; that is, the utter extirpation of\nreligion. To that every question of empire was subordinate. They had\nrather domineer in a parish of atheists than rule over a Christian\nworld. Their temporal ambition was wholly subservient to their\nproselytizing spirit, in which they were not exceeded by Mahomet\nhimself. They who have made but superficial studies in the natural\nhistory of the human mind, have been taught to look on religious\nopinions as the only cause of enthusiastic zeal and sectarian\npropagation. But there is no doctrine whatever, on which men can warm,\nthat is not capable of the very same effect. The social nature of man\nimpels him to propagate his principles, as much as physical impulses\nurge him to propagate his kind. The passions give zeal and vehemence.\nThe understanding bestows design and system. The whole man moves under\nthe discipline of his opinions. Religion is among the most powerful\ncauses of enthusiasm. When anything concerning it becomes an object of\nmuch meditation, it cannot be indifferent to the mind. They who do not\nlove religion, hate it. The rebels to God perfectly abhor the author of\ntheir being. They hate him \"with all their heart, with all their mind,\nwith all their soul, and with all their strength.\" He never presents\nhimself to their thoughts, but to menace and alarm them. They cannot\nstrike the sun out of heaven, but they are able to raise a smouldering\nsmoke that obscures him from their own eyes. Not being able to revenge\nthemselves on God, they have a delight in vicariously defacing,\ndegrading, torturing, and tearing in pieces his image in man. Let no\none judge of them by what he has conceived of them, when they were\nnot incorporated, and had no lead. They were then only passengers in a\ncommon vehicle. They were then carried along with the general motion of\nreligion in the community, and, without being aware of it, partook of\nits influence. In that situation, at worst, their nature was left free\nto counter-work their principles. They despaired of giving any very\ngeneral currency to their opinions. They considered them as a reserved\nprivilege for the chosen few. But when the possibility of dominion,\nlead, and propagation, presented itself, and that the ambition, which\nbefore had so often made them hypocrites, might rather gain than lose\nby a daring avowal of their sentiments, then the nature of this infernal\nspirit, which has \"evil for its good,\" appeared in its full perfection.\nNothing indeed but the possession of some power can with any certainty\ndiscover what at the bottom is the true character of any man. Without\nreading the speeches of Vergniaud, Francian of Nantes, Isnard, and\nsome others of that sort, it would not be easy to conceive the passion,\nrancour, and malice of their tongues and hearts. They worked themselves\nup to a perfect frenzy against religion and all its professors.\nThey tore the reputation of the clergy to pieces by their infuriated\ndeclamations and invectives, before they lacerated their bodies by\ntheir massacres. This fanatical atheism left out, we omit the principal\nfeature in the French revolution, and a principal consideration with\nregard to the effects to be expected from a peace with it.\n\nThe other sort of men were the politicians. To them, who had little or\nnot at all reflected on the subject, religion was in itself no object\nof love or hatred. They disbelieved it, and that was all. Neutral with\nregard to that object, they took the side which in the present state of\nthings might best answer their purposes. They soon found that they could\nnot do without the philosophers; and the philosophers soon made them\nsensible that the destruction of religion was to supply them with means\nof conquest, first at home, and then abroad. The philosophers were the\nactive internal agitators, and supplied the spirit and principles: the\nsecond gave the practical direction. Sometimes the one predominated in\nthe composition, sometimes the other. The only difference between them\nwas in the necessity of concealing the general design for a time, and in\ntheir dealing with foreign nations; the fanatics going straightforward\nand openly, the politicians by the surer mode of zigzag. In the\ncourse of events, this, among other causes, produced fierce and bloody\ncontentions between them. But at the bottom they thoroughly agreed in\nall the objects of ambition and irreligion, and substantially in all the\nmeans of promoting these ends.\n\n\n\n\nWHAT A MINISTER SHOULD ATTEMPT.\n\nAfter such an elaborate display had been made of the injustice and\ninsolence of an enemy, who seems to have been irritated by every one of\nthe means which had been commonly used with effect to soothe the rage\nof intemperate power, the natural result would be, that the scabbard, in\nwhich we in vain attempted to plunge our sword, should have been thrown\naway with scorn. It would have been natural that, rising in the fulness\nof their might, insulted majesty, despised dignity, violated justice,\nrejected supplication, patience goaded into fury, would have poured out\nall the length of the reins upon all the wrath which they had so long\nrestrained. It might have been expected that, emulous of the glory of\nthe youthful hero in alliance with him, touched by the example of what\none man, well formed and well placed, may do in the most desperate\nstate of affairs, convinced there is a courage of the cabinet full as\npowerful, and far less vulgar than that of the field, our minister would\nhave changed the whole line of that useless, prosperous prudence, which\nhad hitherto produced all the effects of the blindest temerity. If\nhe found his situation full of danger (and I do not deny that it is\nperilous in the extreme), he must feel that it is also full of glory;\nand that he is placed on a stage, than which no muse of fire that had\nascended the highest heaven of invention could imagine anything more\nawful and august. It was hoped that, in this swelling scene in which he\nmoved with some of the first potentates of Europe for his fellow-actors,\nand with so many of the rest for the anxious spectators of a part,\nwhich, as he plays it, determines for ever their destiny and his own,\nlike Ulysses in the unravelling point of the epic story, he would have\nthrown off his patience and his rags together; and, stripped of unworthy\ndisguises, he would have stood forth in the form and in the attitude\nof a hero. On that day it was thought he would have assumed the port of\nMars; that he would bid to be brought forth from their hideous kennel\n(where his scrupulous tenderness had too long immured them) those\nimpatient dogs of war, whose fierce regards affright even the minister\nof vengeance that feeds them; that he would let them loose, in famine,\nfever, plagues, and death, upon a guilty race, to whose frame, and\nto all whose habit, order, peace, religion, and virtue are alien and\nabhorrent. It was expected that he would at last have thought of active\nand effectual war; that he would no longer amuse the British lion in the\nchase of mice and rats; that he would no longer employ the whole naval\npower of Great Britain, once the terror of the world, to prey upon\nthe miserable remains of a peddling commerce, which the enemy did not\nregard, and from which none could profit. It was expected that he\nwould have re-asserted the justice of his cause; that he would have\nre-animated whatever remained to him of his allies, and endeavoured\nto recover those whom their fears had led astray; that he would have\nrekindled the martial ardour of his citizens; that he would have held\nout to them the example of their ancestry, the assertor of Europe, and\nthe scourge of French ambition; that he would have reminded them of a\nposterity, which, if this nefarious robbery under the fraudulent name\nand false colour of a government, should in full power be seated in the\nheart of Europe, must for ever be consigned to vice, impiety, barbarism,\nand the most ignominious slavery of body and mind. In so holy a cause it\nwas presumed that he would (as in the beginning of the war he did)\nhave opened all the temples; and with prayer, with fasting, and with\nsupplication (better directed than to the grim Moloch of regicide in\nFrance), have called upon us to raise that united cry which has so often\nstormed heaven, and with a pious violence forced down blessings upon\na repentant people. It was hoped that when he had invoked upon his\nendeavours the favourable regard of the Protector of the human race,\nit would be seen that his menaces to the enemy, and his prayers to the\nAlmighty, were not followed, but accompanied, with correspondent action.\nIt was hoped that his shrilling trumpet should be heard, not to announce\na show, but to sound a charge.\n\n\n\n\nLAW OF VICINITY.\n\nThis violent breach in the community of Europe we must conclude to have\nbeen made (even if they had not expressly declared it over and over\nagain) either to force mankind into an adoption of their system, or to\nlive in perpetual enmity with a community the most potent we have\never known. Can any person imagine, that, in offering to mankind this\ndesperate alternative, there is no indication of a hostile mind, because\nmen in possession of the ruling authority are supposed to have a right\nto act without coercion in their own territories. As to the right of men\nto act anywhere according to their pleasure, without any moral tie, no\nsuch right exists. Men are never in a state of TOTAL independence of\neach other. It is not the condition of our nature: nor is it conceivable\nhow any man can pursue a considerable course of action without its\nhaving some effect upon others; or, of course, without producing some\ndegree of responsibility for his conduct. The SITUATIONS in which\nmen relatively stand produce the rules and principles of that\nresponsibility, and afford directions to prudence in exacting it.\nDistance of place does not extinguish the duties or the rights of men;\nbut it often renders their exercise impracticable. The same circumstance\nof distance renders the noxious effects of an evil system in any\ncommunity less pernicious. But there are situations where this\ndifficulty does not occur; and in which, therefore, these duties are\nobligatory, and these rights are to be asserted. It has ever been the\nmethod of public jurists to draw a great part of the analogies, on which\nthey form the law of nations, from the principles of law which prevail\nin civil community. Civil laws are not all of them merely positive.\nThose, which are rather conclusions of legal reason than matters of\nstatutable provision, belong to universal equity, and are universally\napplicable. Almost the whole praetorian law is such. There is a \"Law of\nNeighbourhood\" which does not leave a man perfectly master on his\nown ground. When a neighbour sees a NEW ERECTION, in the nature of a\nnuisance, set up at his door, he has a right to represent it to the\njudge; who, on his part, has a right to order the work to be stayed; or,\nif established, to be removed. On this head the parent law is express\nand clear, and has made many wise provisions, which, without destroying,\nregulate and restrain the right of OWNERSHIP, by the right of VICINAGE.\nNo INNOVATION is permitted that may redound, even secondarily, to the\nprejudice of a neighbour. The whole doctrine of that important head\nof praetorian law, \"De novi operis nunciatione,\" is founded on the\nprinciple, that no NEW use should be made of a man's private liberty\nof operating upon his private property, from whence a detriment may\nbe justly apprehended by his neighbour. This law of denunciation is\nprospective. It is to anticipate what is called damnum infectum, or\ndamnum nondum factum, that is, a damage justly apprehended, but not\nactually done. Even before it is clearly known whether the innovation\nbe damageable or not, the judge is competent to issue a prohibition to\ninnovate, until the point can be determined. This prompt interference is\ngrounded on principles favourable to both parties. It is preventive\nof mischief difficult to be repaired, and of ill blood difficult to be\nsoftened. The rule of law, therefore, which comes before the evil, is\namongst the very best parts of equity, and justifies the promptness\nof the remedy; because, as it is well observed, Res damni infecti\nceleritatem desiderat, et periculosa est dilatio. This right of\ndenunciation does not hold, when things continue, however inconveniently\nto the neighbourhood, according to the ANCIENT mode. For there is a sort\nof presumption against novelty, drawn out of a deep consideration of\nhuman nature, and human affairs; and the maxim of jurisprudence is well\nlaid down, Vetustas pro lege semper habetur.\n\nSuch is the law of civil vicinity. Now where there is no constituted\njudge, as between independent states there is not, the vicinage itself\nis the natural judge. It is, preventively, the assertor of its own\nrights, or remedially, their avenger. Neighbours are presumed to take\ncognizance of each other's acts. \"Vicini vicinorum facta praesumuntur\nscire.\" This principle, which, like the rest, is as true of nations as\nof individual men, has bestowed on the grand vicinage of Europe a duty\nto know, and a right to prevent, any capital innovation which may amount\nto the erection of a dangerous nuisance.\n\n\n\n\nEUROPEAN COMMUNITY.\n\nThe operation of dangerous and delusive first principles obliges us to\nhave recourse to the true ones. In the intercourse between nations,\nwe are apt to rely too much on the instrumental part. We lay too much\nweight upon the formality of treaties and compacts. We do not act much\nmore wisely when we trust to the interests of men as guarantees of their\nengagements. The interests frequently tear to pieces the engagements;\nand the passions trample upon both. Entirely to trust to either, is to\ndisregard our own safety, or not to know mankind. Men are not tied\nto one another by papers and seals. They are led to associate by\nresemblances, by conformities, by sympathies. It is with nations as\nwith individuals. Nothing is so strong a tie of amity between nation and\nnation as correspondence in laws, customs, manners, and habits of\nlife. They have more than the force of treaties in themselves. They are\nobligations written in the heart. They approximate men to men, without\ntheir knowledge, and sometimes against their intentions. The secret,\nunseen, but irrefragable bond of habitual intercourse holds them\ntogether, even when their perverse and litigious nature sets them\nto equivocate, scuffle, and fight, about the terms of their written\nobligations. As to war, if it be the means of wrong and violence, it is\nthe sole means of justice amongst nations. Nothing can banish it from\nthe world. They who say otherwise, intending to impose upon us, do not\nimpose upon themselves. But it is one of the greatest objects of human\nwisdom to mitigate those evils which we are unable to remove. The\nconformity and analogy of which I speak, incapable, like everything\nelse, of preserving perfect trust and tranquillity among men, has a\nstrong tendency to facilitate accommodation, and to produce a generous\noblivion of the rancour of their quarrels. With this similitude, peace\nis more of peace, and war is less of war. I will go further. There have\nbeen periods of time in which communities, apparently in peace with each\nother, have been more perfectly separated than, in latter times, many\nnations in Europe have been in the course of long and bloody wars. The\ncause must be sought in the similitude throughout Europe of religion,\nlaws, and manners. At bottom, these are all the same. The writers on\npublic law have often called this AGGREGATE of nations a commonwealth.\nThey had reason. It is virtually one great state having the same basis\nof general law, with some diversity of provincial customs and local\nestablishments. The nations of Europe have had the very same Christian\nreligion, agreeing in the fundamental parts, varying a little in the\nceremonies and in the subordinate doctrines. The whole of the polity\nand economy of every country in Europe has been derived from the same\nsources. It was drawn from the old Germanic or Gothic custumary, from\nthe feudal institutions which must be considered as an emanation from\nthat custumary; and the whole has been improved and digested into system\nand discipline by the Roman law. From hence arose the several orders,\nwith or without a monarch (which are called states), in every European\ncountry; the strong traces of which, where monarchy predominated, were\nnever wholly extinguished or merged in despotism. In the few places\nwhere monarchy was cast off, the spirit of European monarchy was still\nleft. Those countries still continued countries of states; that is,\nof classes, orders, and distinctions such as had before subsisted, or\nnearly so. Indeed, the force and form of the institution called states\ncontinued in greater perfection in those republican communities than\nunder monarchies. From all those sources arose a system of manners and\nof education which was nearly similar in all this quarter of the globe;\nand which softened, blended, and harmonized the colours of the whole.\n\n\n\n\nPERILS OF JACOBIN PEACE.\n\nThe same temper which brings us to solicit a Jacobin peace, will induce\nus to temporize with all the evils of it. By degrees our minds will be\nmade to our circumstances. The novelty of such things, which produces\nhalf the horror, and all the disgust, will be worn off. Our ruin will be\ndisguised in profit, and the sale of a few wretched baubles will bribe a\ndegenerate people to barter away the most precious jewel of their souls.\nOur constitution is not made for this kind of warfare. It provides\ngreatly for our happiness,--it furnishes few means for our defence. It\nis formed, in a great measure, upon the principle of jealousy of the\ncrown; and, as things stood when it took that turn, with very great\nreason. I go further; it must keep alive some part of that fire of\njealousy eternally and chastely burning, or it cannot be the British\nconstitution. At various periods we have had tyranny in this\ncountry, more than enough. We have had rebellions, with more or less\njustification. Some of our kings have made adulterous connections\nabroad, and trucked away for foreign gold the interests and glory of\ntheir crown. But before this time our liberty has never been corrupted.\nI mean to say, that it has never been debauched from its domestic\nrelations. To this time it has been English liberty, and English liberty\nonly. Our love of liberty and our love of our country were not distinct\nthings. Liberty is now, it seems, put upon a larger and more liberal\nbottom. We are men, and as men, undoubtedly nothing human is foreign to\nus. We cannot be too liberal in our general wishes for the happiness\nof our kind. But in all questions on the mode of procuring it for any\nparticular community, we ought to be fearful of admitting those who have\nno interest in it, or who have, perhaps, an interest against it,\ninto the consultation. Above all, we cannot be too cautious in our\ncommunication with those who seek their happiness by other roads than\nthose of humanity, morals, and religion, and whose liberty consists, and\nconsists alone, in being free from those restraints which are imposed by\nthe virtues upon the passions.\n\nWhen we invite danger from a confidence in defensive measures, we ought,\nfirst of all, to be sure that it is a species of danger against which\nany defensive measures that can be adopted will be sufficient. Next we\nought to know that the spirit of our laws, or that our own dispositions,\nwhich are stronger than laws, are susceptible of all those defensive\nmeasures which the occasion may require. A third consideration is,\nwhether these measures will not bring more odium than strength to\ngovernment; and the last, whether the authority that makes them, in\na general corruption of manners and principles, can insure their\nexecution? Let no one argue from the state of things, as he sees them at\npresent, concerning what will be the means and capacities of government,\nwhen the time arrives, which shall call for remedies commensurate to\nenormous evils.\n\nIt is an obvious truth that no constitution can defend itself: it\nmust be defended by the wisdom and fortitude of men. These are what no\nconstitution can give: they are the gifts of God; and he alone knows\nwhether we shall possess such gifts at the time when we stand in need of\nthem. Constitutions furnish the civil means of getting at the natural;\nit is all that in this case they can do. But our constitution has more\nimpediments than helps. Its excellencies, when they come to be put to\nthis sort of proof, may be found among its defects.\n\nNothing looks more awful and imposing than an ancient fortification.\nIts lofty, embattled walls, its bold, projecting, rounded towers,\nthat pierce the sky, strike the imagination, and promise inexpugnable\nstrength. But they are the very things that make its weakness. You may\nas well think of opposing one of these old fortresses to the mass of\nartillery brought by a French irruption into the field, as to think of\nresisting, by your old laws, and your old forms, the new destruction\nwhich the corps of Jacobin engineers of to-day prepare for all such\nforms and all such laws. Besides the debility and false principle of\ntheir construction to resist the present modes of attack, the fortress\nitself is in ruinous repair, and there is a practicable breach in every\npart of it.\n\nSuch is the work. But miserable works have been defended by the\nconstancy of the garrison. Weather-beaten ships have been brought safe\nto port by the spirit and alertness of the crew. But it is here that\nwe shall eminently fail. The day that, by their consent, the seat of\nregicide has its place among the thrones of Europe, there is no longer a\nmotive for zeal in their favour; it will at best be cold, unimpassioned,\ndejected, melancholy duty. The glory will seem all on the other side.\nThe friends of the crown will appear, not as champions, but as victims;\ndiscountenanced, mortified, lowered, defeated, they will fall into\nlistlessness and indifference. They will leave things to take their\ncourse; enjoy the present hour, and submit to the common fate.\n\n\n\n\nPARLIAMENTARY AND REGAL PREROGATIVE.\n\nYour throne cannot stand secure upon the principles of unconditional\nsubmission and passive obedience; on powers exercised without the\nconcurrence of the people to be governed; on acts made in defiance\nof their prejudices and habits; on acquiescence procured by foreign\nmercenary troops, and secured by standing armies. These may possibly be\nthe foundation of other thrones: they must be the subversion of yours.\nIt was not to passive principles in our ancestors that we owe the honour\nof appearing before a sovereign, who cannot feel that he is a prince,\nwithout knowing that we ought to be free. The revolution is a departure\nfrom the ancient course of the descent of this monarchy. The people at\nthat time re-entered into their original rights; and it was not because\na positive law authorized what was then done, but because the freedom\nand safety of the subject, the origin and cause of all laws, required\na proceeding paramount and superior to them. At that ever-memorable and\ninstructive period, the letter of the law was superseded in favour of\nthe substance of liberty. To the free choice, therefore, of the people,\nwithout either king or parliament, we owe that happy establishment,\nout of which both king and parliament were regenerated. From that\ngreat principle of liberty have originated the statutes, confirming and\nratifying the establishment, from which your majesty derives your right\nto rule over us. Those statutes have not given us our liberties; our\nliberties have produced them. Every hour of your majesty's reign your\ntitle stands upon the very same foundation on which it was at first\nlaid; and we do not know a better on which it can possibly be placed.\n\nConvinced, sir, that you cannot have different rights and a different\nsecurity in different parts of your dominions, we wish to lay an even\nplatform for your throne; and to give it an unmovable stability, by\nlaying it on the general freedom of your people; and by securing to your\nmajesty that confidence and affection in all parts of your dominions,\nwhich makes your best security and dearest title in this the chief seat\nof your empire.\n\nSuch, sir, being amongst us the foundation of monarchy itself, much more\nclearly and much more peculiarly is it the ground of all parliamentary\npower. Parliament is a security provided for the protection of freedom,\nand not a subtile fiction, contrived to amuse the people in its place.\nThe authority of both houses can, still less than that of the crown, be\nsupported upon different principles in different places, so as to be,\nfor one part of your subjects, a protector of liberty, and for another\na fund of despotism, through which prerogative is extended by occasional\npowers, whenever an arbitrary will finds itself straitened by the\nrestrictions of law. Had it seemed good to parliament to consider itself\nas the indulgent guardian and strong protector of the freedom of the\nsubordinate popular assemblies, instead of exercising its power to their\nannihilation, there is no doubt that it never could have been their\ninclination, because not their interest, to raise questions on the\nextent of parliamentary rights, or to enfeeble privileges which were the\nsecurity of their own. Powers evident from necessity, and not suspicious\nfrom an alarming mode or purpose in the exertion, would, as formerly\nthey were, be cheerfully submitted to; and these would have been fully\nsufficient for conservation of unity in the empire, and for directing\nits wealth to one common centre. Another use has produced other\nconsequences; and a power which refuses to be limited by moderation\nmust either be lost, or find other more distinct and satisfactory\nlimitations.\n\n\n\n\nBURKE'S DESIGN IN HIS GREATEST WORK.\n\nHe had undertaken to demonstrate by arguments which he thought could not\nbe refuted, and by documents which he was sure could not be denied,\nthat no comparison was to be made between the British government and the\nFrench usurpation. That they who endeavoured madly to compare them, were\nby no means making the comparison of one good system with another good\nsystem, which varied only in local and circumstantial differences;\nmuch less, that they were holding out to us a superior pattern of legal\nliberty, which we might substitute in the place of our old, and, as they\ndescribed it, superannuated constitution. He meant to demonstrate that\nthe French scheme was not a comparative good, but a positive evil. That\nthe question did not at all turn, as had been stated, on a parallel\nbetween a monarchy and a republic. He denied that the present scheme of\nthings in France did at all deserve the respectable name of a republic:\nhe had therefore no comparison between monarchies and republics to make.\nThat what was done in France was a wild attempt to methodize anarchy;\nto perpetuate and fix disorder. That it was a foul, impious, monstrous\nthing, wholly out of the course of moral nature. He undertook to prove\nthat it was generated in treachery, fraud, falsehood, hypocrisy, and\nunprovoked murder. He offered to make out that those who had led in\nthat business had conducted themselves with the utmost perfidy to their\ncolleagues in function, and with the most flagrant perjury both towards\ntheir king and their constituents; to the one of whom the Assembly\nhad sworn fealty, and to the other, when under no sort of violence or\nconstraint, they had sworn a full obedience to instructions.--That, by\nthe terror of assassination, they had driven away a very great number\nof the members, so as to produce a false appearance of a majority.--That\nthis fictitious majority had fabricated a constitution, which, as now\nit stands, is a tyranny far beyond any example that can be found in the\ncivilized European world of our age; that therefore the lovers of\nit must be lovers, not of liberty, but if they really understand its\nnature, of the lowest and basest of all servitude.\n\nHe proposed to prove that the present state of things in France is not a\ntransient evil, productive, as some have too favourably represented\nit, of a lasting good; but that the present evil is only the means of\nproducing future and (if that were possible) worse evils.--That it is\nnot an undigested, imperfect, and crude scheme of liberty, which may\ngradually be mellowed and ripened into an orderly and social freedom;\nbut that it is so fundamentally wrong, as to be utterly incapable of\ncorrecting itself by any length of time, or of being formed into any\nmode of polity of which a member of the House of Commons could publicly\ndeclare his approbation.\n\n\n\n\nLORD KEPPEL.\n\nI ever looked on Lord Keppel as one of the greatest and best men of\nhis age; and I loved and cultivated him accordingly. He was much in my\nheart, and I believe I was in his to the very last beat. It was at his\ntrial at Portsmouth that he gave me this picture. With what zeal and\nanxious affection I attended him through that his agony of glory, what\npart my son took in the early flush and enthusiasm of his virtue, and\nthe pious passion with which he attached himself to all my connections,\nwith what prodigality we both squandered ourselves in courting almost\nevery sort of enmity for his sake, I believe he felt, just as I should\nhave felt such friendship on such an occasion. I partook indeed of this\nhonour with several of the first, and best, and ablest in the kingdom,\nbut I was behindhand with none of them; and I am sure, that if to the\neternal disgrace of this nation, and to the total annihilation of every\ntrace of honour and virtue in it, things had taken a different turn from\nwhat they did, I should have attended him to the quarter-deck with no\nless good-will and more pride, though with far other feelings, than I\npartook of the general flow of national joy that attended the justice\nthat was done to his virtue.\n\nPardon, my lord, the feeble garrulity of age, which loves to diffuse\nitself in discourse of the departed great. At my years we live in\nretrospect alone; and, wholly unfitted for the society of vigorous life,\nwe enjoy, the best balm to all wounds, the consolation of friendship in\nthose only whom we have lost for ever. Feeling the loss of Lord Keppel\nat all times, at no time did I feel it so much as on the first day when\nI was attacked in the House of Lords.\n\nHad he lived, that reverend form would have risen in its place, and,\nwith a mild, parental reprehension to his nephew the duke of Bedford,\nhe would have told him that the favour of that gracious prince, who had\nhonoured his virtues with the government of the navy of Great Britain,\nand with a seat in the hereditary great council of his kingdom, was not\nundeservedly shown to the friend of the best portion of his life, and\nhis faithful companion and counsellor under his rudest trials. He would\nhave told him, that to whomever else these reproaches might be becoming,\nthey were not decorous in his near kindred. He would have told him that\nwhen men in that rank lose decorum they lose everything. On that day\nI had a loss in Lord Keppel; but the public loss of him in this awful\ncrisis--! I speak from much knowledge of the person, he never would have\nlistened to any compromise with the rabble rout of this sans-culotterie\nof France. His goodness of heart, his reason, his taste, his public\nduty, his principles, his prejudices, would have repelled him for ever\nfrom all connection with that horrid medley of madness, vice, impiety,\nand crime.\n\nLord Keppel had two countries; one of descent, and one of birth. Their\ninterest and their glory are the same; and his mind was capacious of\nboth. His family was noble, and it was Dutch: that is, he was the oldest\nand purest nobility that Europe can boast, among a people renowned above\nall others for love of their native land. Though it was never shown in\ninsult to any human being, Lord Keppel was something high. It was a wild\nstock of pride, on which the tenderest of all hearts had grafted the\nmilder virtues. He valued ancient nobility; and he was not disinclined\nto augment it with new honours. He valued the old nobility and the new,\nnot as an excuse for inglorious sloth, but as an incitement to virtuous\nactivity. He considered it as a sort of cure for selfishness and a\nnarrow mind; conceiving that a man born in an elevated place in himself\nwas nothing, but everything in what went before, and what was to\ncome after him. Without much speculation, but by the sure instinct\nof ingenuous feelings, and by the dictates of plain, unsophisticated,\nnatural understanding, he felt that no great commonwealth could by\nany possibility long subsist without a body of some kind or other\nof nobility, decorated with honour, and fortified by privilege. This\nnobility forms the chain that connects the ages of a nation, which\notherwise (with Mr. Paine) would soon be taught that no one generation\ncan bind another. He felt that no political fabric could be well made\nwithout some such order of things as might, through a series of time,\nafford a rational hope of securing unity, coherence, consistency, and\nstability to the state. He felt that nothing else can protect it against\nthe levity of courts, and the greater levity of the multitude. That\nto talk of hereditary monarchy, without anything else of hereditary\nreverence in the commonwealth, was a low-minded absurdity, fit only for\nthose detestable \"fools aspiring to be knaves,\" who began to forge in\n1789 the false money of the French constitution.--That it is one fatal\nobjection to all NEW fancied and NEW FABRICATED republics (among\na people who, once possessing such an advantage, have wickedly and\ninsolently rejected it), that the PREJUDICE of an old nobility is a\nthing that CANNOT be made. It may be improved, it may be corrected, it\nmay be replenished: men may be taken from it or aggregated to it, but\nthe THING ITSELF is matter of INVETERATE opinion, and therefore CANNOT\nbe matter of mere positive institution. He felt that this nobility in\nfact does not exist in wrong of other orders of the state, but by them,\nand for them.\n\n\n\n\n\"LABOURING POOR.\"\n\nLet government protect and encourage industry, secure property, repress\nviolence, and discountenance fraud, it is all that they have to do. In\nother respects, the less they meddle in these affairs the better; the\nrest is in the hands of our Master and theirs. We are in a constitution\nof things wherein--\"Modo sol nimius, modo corripit imber.\" But I will\npush this matter no further. As I have said a good deal upon it\nat various times during my public service, and have lately written\nsomething on it which may yet see the light, I shall content myself now\nwith observing, that the vigorous and laborious class of life has lately\ngot, from the bon ton of the humanity of this day, the name of the\n\"labouring poor.\" We have heard many plans for the relief of the\n\"labouring poor.\" This puling jargon is not as innocent as it is\nfoolish. In meddling with great affairs, weakness is never innoxious.\nHitherto the name of poor (in the sense in which it is used to excite\ncompassion) has not been used for those who can, but for those who\ncannot, labour--for the sick and infirm, for orphan infancy, for\nlanguishing and decrepit age: but when we affect to pity, as poor, those\nwho must labour, or the world cannot exist, we are trifling with the\ncondition of mankind. It is the common doom of man that he must eat his\nbread by the sweat of his brow, that is, by the sweat of his body, or\nthe sweat of his mind. If this toil was inflicted as a curse, it is, as\nmight be expected from the curses of the Father of all blessings--it\nis tempered with many alleviations, many comforts. Every attempt to fly\nfrom it, and to refuse the very terms of our existence, becomes much\nmore truly a curse; and heavier pains and penalties fall upon those\nwho would elude the tasks which are put upon them by the great\nMaster Workman of the world, who, in his dealings with his creatures,\nsympathizes with their weakness, and speaking of a creation wrought by\nmere will out of nothing, speaks of six days of LABOUR and one of REST.\nI do not call a healthy young man, cheerful in his mind, and vigorous\nin his arms, I cannot call such a man POOR; I cannot pity my kind as\na kind, merely because they are men. This affected pity only tends\nto dissatisfy them with their condition, and to teach them to seek\nresources where no resources are to be found, in something else than\ntheir own industry, and frugality, and sobriety. Whatever may be the\nintention (which, because I do not know, I cannot dispute) of those who\nwould discontent mankind by this strange pity, they act towards us, in\nthe consequences, as if they were our worst enemies.\n\n\n\n\nSTATE CONSECRATED BY THE CHURCH.\n\nI beg leave to speak of our church establishment, which is the first of\nour prejudices, not a prejudice destitute of reason, but involving in\nit profound and extensive wisdom. I speak of it first. It is first,\nand last, and midst in our minds. For, taking ground on that religious\nsystem, of which we are now in possession, we continue to act on the\nearly received and uniformly continued sense of mankind. That sense not\nonly, like a wise architect, hath built up the august fabric of\nstates, but like a provident proprietor, to preserve the structure from\nprofanation and ruin, as a sacred temple purged from all the impurities\nof fraud, and violence, and injustice, and tyranny, hath solemnly and\nfor ever consecrated the commonwealth, and all that officiate in it.\nThis consecration is made, that all who administer in the government of\nmen, in which they stand in the person of God himself, should have high\nand worthy notions of their function and destination; that their hope\nshould be full of immortality; that they should not look to the paltry\npelf of the moment, nor to the temporary and transient praise of the\nvulgar, but to a solid, permanent existence, in the permanent part of\ntheir nature, and to a permanent fame and glory, in the example they\nleave as a rich inheritance to the world.\n\nSuch sublime principles ought to be infused into persons of exalted\nsituations; and religious establishments provided, that may continually\nrevive and enforce them. Every sort of moral, every sort of civil, every\nsort of politic institution, aiding the rational and natural ties that\nconnect the human understanding and affections to the divine, are not\nmore than necessary, in order to build up that wonderful structure, Man;\nwhose prerogative it is, to be in a great degree a creature of his own\nmaking; and who, when made as he ought to be made, is destined to hold\nno trivial place in the creation. But whenever man is put over men, as\nthe better nature ought ever to preside, in that case more particularly,\nhe should as nearly as possible be approximated to his perfection.\n\nThe consecration of the state, by a state religious establishment,\nis necessary also to operate with a wholesome awe upon free citizens;\nbecause in order to secure their freedom, they must enjoy some\ndeterminate portion of power. To them therefore a religion connected\nwith the state, and with their duty towards it, becomes even more\nnecessary than in such societies, where the people, by the terms of\ntheir subjection, are confined to private sentiments, and the management\nof their own family concerns. All persons possessing any portion of\npower ought to be strongly and awfully impressed with an idea that they\nact in trust; and that they are to account for their conduct in that\ntrust to the one great Master, Author, and Founder of society. This\nprinciple ought even to be more strongly impressed upon the minds of\nthose who compose the collective sovereignty, than upon those of single\nprinces. Without instruments, these princes can do nothing. Whoever uses\ninstruments, in finding helps, finds also impediments. Their power is\ntherefore by no means complete; nor are they safe in extreme abuse. Such\npersons, however elevated by flattery, arrogance, and self-opinion, must\nbe sensible that whether covered or not by positive law, in some way or\nother they are accountable even here for the abuse of their trust.\nIf they are not cut off by a rebellion of their people, they may be\nstrangled by the very janissaries kept for their security against\nall other rebellion. Thus we have seen the king of France sold by his\nsoldiers for an increase of pay. But where popular authority is absolute\nand unrestrained, the people have an infinitely greater, because a far\nbetter founded, confidence in their own power. They are themselves, in a\ngreat measure, their own instruments. They are nearer to their objects.\nBesides, they are less under responsibility to one of the greatest\ncontrolling powers on earth, the sense of fame and estimation. The\nshare of infamy, that is likely to fall to the lot of each individual\nin public acts, is small indeed; the operation of opinion being in\nthe inverse ratio to the number of those who abuse power. Their own\napprobation of their own acts has to them the appearance of a public\njudgment in their favour. A perfect democracy is therefore the most\nshameless thing in the world. As it is the most shameless, it is also\nthe most fearless. No man apprehends in his person that he can be made\nsubject to punishment. Certainly the people at large never ought: for as\nall punishments are for example towards the conservation of the people\nat large, the people at large can never become the subject of punishment\nby any human hand. (Quicquid multis peccatur inultum.) It is therefore\nof infinite importance that they should not be suffered to imagine that\ntheir will, any more than that of kings, is the standard of right and\nwrong. They ought to be persuaded that they are full as little entitled,\nand far less qualified, with safety to themselves, to use any arbitrary\npower whatsoever; that therefore they are not, under a false show of\nliberty, but in truth, to exercise an unnatural, inverted domination,\ntyranically to exact from those who officiate in the state, not an\nentire devotion to their interest, which is their right, but an abject\nsubmission to their occasional will; extinguishing thereby, in all those\nwho serve them, all moral principle, all sense of dignity, all use of\njudgment, and all consistency of character; whilst by the very same\nprocess they give themselves up a proper, a suitable, but a most\ncontemptible prey to the servile ambition of popular sycophants, or\ncourtly flatterers.\n\n\n\n\nFATE OF LOUIS XVIII.\n\nLet those who have the trust of political or of natural authority ever\nkeep watch against the desperate enterprises of innovation: let even\ntheir benevolence be fortified and armed. They have before their eyes\nthe example of a monarch, insulted, degraded, confined, deposed; his\nfamily dispersed, scattered, imprisoned; his wife insulted to his face\nlike the vilest of the sex, by the vilest of all populace; himself three\ntimes dragged by these wretches in an infamous triumph; his children\ntorn from him, in violation of the first right of nature, and given\ninto the tuition of the most desperate and impious of the leaders of\ndesperate and impious clubs; his revenues dilapidated and plundered; his\nmagistrates murdered; his clergy proscribed, persecuted, famished; his\nnobility degraded in their rank, undone in their fortunes, fugitives\nin their persons; his armies corrupted and ruined; his whole people\nimpoverished, disunited, dissolved; whilst through the bars of his\nprison, and amidst the bayonets of his keepers, he hears the tumult of\ntwo conflicting factions, equally wicked and abandoned, who agree in\nprinciples, in dispositions, and in objects, but who tear each other to\npieces about the most effectual means of obtaining their common end;\nthe one contending to preserve for a while his name, and his person, the\nmore easily to destroy the royal authority--the other clamouring to cut\noff the name, the person, and the monarchy together, by one sacrilegious\nexecution. All this accumulation of calamity, the greatest that ever\nfell upon one man, has fallen upon his head, because he had left his\nvirtues unguarded by caution; because he was not taught that, where\npower is concerned, he who will confer benefits must take security\nagainst ingratitude.\n\n\n\n\nNOBILITY.\n\nAll this violent cry against the nobility I take to be a mere work\nof art. To be honoured and even privileged by the laws, opinions, and\ninveterate usages of our country, growing out of the prejudice of ages,\nhas nothing to provoke horror and indignation in any man. Even to be\ntoo tenacious of those privileges is not absolutely a crime. The strong\nstruggle in every individual to preserve possession of what he has\nfound to belong to him, and to distinguish him, is one of the securities\nagainst injustice and despotism implanted in our nature. It operates as\nan instinct to secure property, and to preserve communities in a settled\nstate. What is there to shock in this? Nobility is a graceful ornament\nto the civil order. It is the Corinthian capital of polished society.\nOmnes boni nobilitati semper favemus, was the saying of a wise and good\nman. It is indeed one sign of a liberal and benevolent mind to incline\nto it with some sort of partial propensity. He feels no ennobling\nprinciple in his own heart who wishes to level all the artificial\ninstitutions which have been adopted for giving a body to opinion,\nand permanence to fugitive esteem. It is a sour, malignant, envious\ndisposition, without taste for the reality, or for any image or\nrepresentation of virtue, that sees with joy the unmerited fall of what\nhad long flourished in splendour and in honour. I do not like to see\nanything destroyed; any void produced in society; any ruin on the face\nof the land. It was therefore with no disappointment or dissatisfaction\nthat my inquiries and observations did not present to me any\nincorrigible vices in the noblesse of France, or any abuse which could\nnot be removed by a reform very short of abolition. Your noblesse did\nnot deserve punishment: but to degrade is to punish.\n\nIt was with the same satisfaction I found that the result of my inquiry\nconcerning your clergy was not dissimilar. It is no soothing news to\nmy ears, that great bodies of men are incurably corrupt. It is not with\nmuch credulity I listen to any when they speak evil of those whom\nthey are going to plunder. I rather suspect that vices are feigned or\nexaggerated when profit is looked for in their punishment. An enemy is\na bad witness; a robber is a worse. Vices and abuses there were\nundoubtedly in that order, and must be. It was an old establishment,\nand not frequently revised. But I saw no crimes in the individuals that\nmerited confiscation of their substance, nor those cruel insults\nand degradations, and that unnatural persecution, which have been\nsubstituted in the place of meliorating regulation.\n\nIf there had been any just cause for this new religious persecution, the\natheistic libellers, who act as trumpeters to animate the populace to\nplunder, do not love anybody so much as not to dwell with complacence\non the vices of the existing clergy. This they have not done. They find\nthemselves obliged to rake into the histories of former ages (which\nthey have ransacked with a malignant and profligate industry) for every\ninstance of oppression and persecution which has been made by that body\nor in its favour, in order to justify, upon very iniquitous, because\nvery illogical, principles of retaliation, their own persecutions and\ntheir own cruelties. After destroying all other genealogies and family\ndistinctions, they invent a sort of pedigree of crimes. It is not very\njust to chastise men for the offences of their natural ancestors: but to\ntake the fiction of ancestry in a corporate succession as a ground for\npunishing men who have no relation to guilty acts, except in names and\ngeneral descriptions, is a sort of refinement in injustice belonging to\nthe philosophy of this enlightened age. The Assembly punishes men,\nmany, if not most, of whom abhor the violent conduct of ecclesiastics in\nformer times as much as their present persecutors can do, and who would\nbe as loud and as strong in the expression of that sense, if they\nwere not well aware of the purposes for which all this declamation is\nemployed. Corporate bodies are immortal for the good of the members, but\nnot for their punishment. Nations themselves are such corporations.\nAs well might we in England think of waging inexpiable war upon all\nFrenchmen for the evils which they have brought upon us in the several\nperiods of our mutual hostilities. You might, on your part, think\nyourselves justified in falling upon all Englishmen on account of the\nunparalleled calamities brought upon the people of France by the unjust\ninvasions of our Henries and our Edwards. Indeed, we should be mutually\njustified in this exterminatory war upon each other, full as much as you\nare in the unprovoked persecution of your present countrymen, on account\nof the conduct of men of the same name in other times.\n\n\n\n\nLEGISLATION AND REPUBLICANS.\n\nThe legislators who framed the ancient republics knew that their\nbusiness was too arduous to be accomplished with no better apparatus\nthan the metaphysics of an undergraduate, and the mathematics and\narithmetic of an exciseman. They had to do with men, and they were\nobliged to study human nature. They had to do with citizens, and they\nwere obliged to study the effects of those habits which are communicated\nby the circumstances of civil life. They were sensible that the\noperation of this second nature on the first produced a new combination;\nand thence arose many diversities amongst men, according to their birth,\ntheir education, their professions, the periods of their lives, their\nresidence in towns or in the country, their several ways of acquiring\nand of fixing property, and according to the quality of the property\nitself, all which rendered them as it were so many different species\nof animals. From hence they thought themselves obliged to dispose their\ncitizens into such classes, and to place them in such situations in the\nstate as their peculiar habits might qualify them to fill, and to allot\nto them such appropriated privileges as might secure to them what their\nspecific occasions required, and which might furnish to each description\nsuch force as might protect it in the conflict caused by the diversity\nof interests that must exist, and must contend, in all complex society;\nfor the legislator would have been ashamed that the coarse husbandman\nshould well know how to assort and to use his sheep, horses, and oxen,\nand should have enough of common sense not to abstract and equalize them\nall into animals, without providing for each kind an appropriate food,\ncare, and employment; whilst he, the economist, disposer, and shepherd\nof his own kindred, subliming himself into an airy metaphysician, was\nresolved to know nothing of his flocks but as men in general. It is\nfor this reason that Montesquieu observed, very justly, that in their\nclassification of the citizens, the great legislators of antiquity made\nthe greatest display of their powers, and even soared above themselves.\nIt is here that your modern legislators have gone deep into the negative\nseries, and sunk even below their own nothing. As the first sort of\nlegislators attended to the different kinds of citizens, and\ncombined them into one commonwealth, the others, the metaphysical and\nalchemistical legislators, have taken the directly contrary course. They\nhave attempted to confound all sorts of citizens, as well as they could,\ninto one homogeneous mass; and then they divided this their amalgama\ninto a number of incoherent republics. They reduce men to loose\ncounters, merely for the sake of simple telling, and not to figures\nwhose power is to arise from their place in the table. The elements of\ntheir own metaphysics might have taught them better lessons. The troll\nof their categorical table might have informed them that there was\nsomething else in the intellectual world besides SUBSTANCE and QUANTITY.\nThey might learn from the catechism of metaphysics that there were eight\nheads more, in every complex deliberation, which they have never thought\nof; though these, of all the ten, are the subjects on which the skill\nof man can operate anything at all. So far from this able disposition of\nsome of the old republican legislators, which follows with a solicitous\naccuracy the moral conditions and propensities of men, they have leveled\nand crushed together all the orders which they found, even under the\ncoarse, unartificial arrangement of the monarchy, in which mode of\ngovernment the classing of the citizens is not of so much importance as\nin a republic. It is true, however, that every such classification, if\nproperly ordered, is good in all forms of government; and composes a\nstrong barrier against the excesses of despotism, as well as it is the\nnecessary means of giving effect and permanence to a republic. For want\nof something of this kind, if the present project of a republic should\nfail, all securities to a moderated freedom fail along with it; all the\nindirect restraints which mitigate despotism are removed; insomuch that\nif monarchy should ever again obtain an entire ascendancy in France,\nunder this or under any other dynasty, it will probably be, if not\nvoluntarily tempered at setting out by the wise and virtuous counsels of\nthe prince, the most completely arbitrary power that has ever appeared\non earth. This is to play a most desperate game.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCIPLE OF STATE-CONSECRATION.\n\nBut one of the first and most leading principles on which the\ncommonwealth and the laws are consecrated, is lest the temporary\npossessors and life-renters in it, unmindful of what they have received\nfrom their ancestors, or of what is due to their posterity, should\nact as if they were the entire masters; that they should not think\nit amongst their rights to cut off the entail, or commit waste on the\ninheritance, by destroying at their pleasure the whole original fabric\nof their society; hazarding to leave to those who come after them a ruin\ninstead of an habitation--and teaching these successors as little\nto respect their contrivances, as they had themselves respected the\ninstitutions of their forefathers. By this unprincipled facility of\nchanging the state as often, and as much, and in as many ways, as there\nare floating fancies or fashions, the whole chain and continuity of\nthe commonwealth would be broken. No one generation could link with the\nother. Men would become little better than the flies of a summer.\n\nAnd first of all, the science of jurisprudence, the pride of the human\nintellect, which, with all its defects, redundancies, and errors, is the\ncollected reason of ages, combining the principles of original justice\nwith the infinite variety of human concerns, as a heap of old exploded\nerrors, would be no longer studied. Personal self-sufficiency and\narrogance (the certain attendants upon all those who have never\nexperienced a wisdom greater than their own) would usurp the tribunal.\nOf course no certain laws, establishing invariable grounds of hope and\nfear, would keep the actions of men in a certain course, or direct them\nto a certain end. Nothing stable in the modes of holding property, or\nexercising function, could form a solid ground on which any parent could\nspeculate in the education of his offspring, or in a choice for their\nfuture establishment in the world. No principles would be early worked\ninto the habits. As soon as the most able instructor had completed his\nlaborious course of institution, instead of sending forth his pupil,\naccomplished in a virtuous discipline, fitted to procure him attention\nand respect in his place in society, he would find everything altered;\nand that he had turned out a poor creature to the contempt and derision\nof the world, ignorant of the true grounds of estimation. Who would\ninsure a tender and delicate sense of honour to beat almost with the\nfirst pulses of the heart, when no man could know what would be the test\nof honour in a nation, continually varying the standard of its coin?\nNo part of life would retain its acquisitions. Barbarism with regard\nto science and literature, unskilfulness with regard to arts and\nmanufactures, would infallibly succeed to the want of a steady education\nand settled principle; and thus the commonwealth itself would, in a few\ngenerations, crumble away, be disconnected into the dust and powder of\nindividuality, and at length dispersed to all the winds of heaven. To\navoid therefore the evils of inconstancy and versatility, ten thousand\ntimes worse than those of obstinacy and the blindest prejudice, we have\nconsecrated the state, that no man should approach to look into its\ndefects or corruptions but with due caution; that he should never dream\nof beginning its reformation by its subversion; that he should approach\nto the faults of the state as to the wounds of a father, with pious awe,\nand trembling solicitude. By this wise prejudice we are taught to look\nwith horror on those children of their country, who are prompt rashly\nto hack that aged parent in pieces, and put him into the kettle\nof magicians, in hopes that by their poisonous weeds, and wild\nincantations, they may regenerate the paternal constitution, and\nrenovate their father's life.\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH STABILITY.\n\nFour hundred years have gone over us; but I believe we are not\nmaterially changed since that period. Thanks to our sullen resistance to\ninnovation, thanks to the cold sluggishness of our national character,\nwe still bear the stamp of our forefathers. We have not (as I conceive)\nlost the generosity and dignity of thinking of the fourteenth century;\nnor as yet have we subtilized ourselves into savages. We are not the\nconverts of Rousseau; we are not the disciples of Voltaire; Helvetius\nhas made no progress amongst us. Atheists are not our preachers; madmen\nare not our lawgivers. We know that WE have made no discoveries; and we\nthink that no discoveries are to be made in morality; nor many in the\ngreat principles of government, nor in the ideas of liberty; which were\nunderstood long before we were born, altogether as well as they will\nbe after the grave has heaped its mould upon our presumption, and the\nsilent tomb shall have imposed its law on our pert loquacity. In England\nwe have not yet been completely embowelled of our natural entrails;\nwe still feel within us, and we cherish and cultivate, those inbred\nsentiments which are the faithful guardians, the active monitors of our\nduty, the true supporters of all liberal and manly morals. We have not\nbeen drawn and trussed, in order that we may be filled, like stuffed\nbirds in a museum, with chaff and rags and paltry blurred shreds of\npaper about the rights of man. We preserve the whole of our feelings\nstill native and entire, unsophisticated by pedantry and infidelity. We\nhave real hearts of flesh and blood beating in our bosoms. We fear God;\nwe look up with awe to kings; with affection to parliaments; with duty\nto magistrates; with reverence to priests; and with respect to nobility.\nWhy? Because when such ideas are brought before our minds, it is NATURAL\nto be so affected; because all other feelings are false and spurious,\nand tend to corrupt our minds, to vitiate our primary morals, to render\nus unfit for rational liberty; and by teaching us a servile, licentious,\nand abandoned insolence, to be our low sport for a few holidays, to\nmake us perfectly fit for, and justly deserving of, slavery, through the\nwhole course of our lives.\n\nYou see, sir, that in this enlightened age I am bold enough to confess,\nthat we are generally men of untaught feelings; that instead of casting\naway all our old prejudices, we cherish them to a very considerable\ndegree, and, to take more shame to ourselves, we cherish them because\nthey are prejudices; and the longer they have lasted, and the more\ngenerally they have prevailed, the more we cherish them. We are afraid\nto put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason;\nbecause we suspect that the stock in each man is small, and that the\nindividuals would do better to avail themselves of the general bank and\ncapital of nations and of ages. Many of our men of speculation, instead\nof exploding general prejudices, employ their sagacity to discover the\nlatent wisdom which prevails in them. If they find what they seek, and\nthey seldom fail, they think it more wise to continue the prejudice,\nwith the reason involved, than to cast away the coat of prejudice,\nand to leave nothing but the naked reason; because prejudice, with its\nreason, has a motive to give action to that reason, and an affection\nwhich will give it permanence. Prejudice is of ready application to the\nemergency; it previously engages the mind in a steady course of wisdom\nand virtue, and does not leave the man hesitating in the moment of\ndecision, sceptical, puzzled, and unresolved. Prejudice renders a man's\nvirtue his habit; and not a series of unconnected acts. Through just\nprejudice, his duty becomes a part of his nature.\n\n\n\n\nLITERARY ATHEISTS.\n\nThe literary cabal had some years ago formed something like a regular\nplan for the destruction of the Christian religion. This object they\npursued with a degree of zeal which hitherto had been discovered only\nin the propagators of some system of piety. They were possessed with a\nspirit of proselytism in the most fanatical degree; and from thence,\nby an easy progress, with the spirit of persecution according to their\nmeans. What was not to be done towards their great end by any direct or\nimmediate act, might be wrought by a longer process through the medium\nof opinion. To command that opinion, the first step is to establish a\ndominion over those who direct it. They contrived to possess themselves,\nwith great method and perseverance, of all the avenues to literary fame.\nMany of them indeed stood high in the ranks of literature and science.\nThe world had done them justice; and in favour of general talents\nforgave the evil tendency of their peculiar principles. This was\ntrue liberality; which they returned by endeavouring to confine\nthe reputation of sense, learning, and taste to themselves or their\nfollowers. I will venture to say that this narrow, exclusive spirit has\nnot been less prejudicial to literature and to taste, than to morals and\ntrue philosophy. Those atheistical fathers have a bigotry of their own;\nand they have learnt to talk against monks with the spirit of a monk.\nBut in some things they are men of the world. The resources of intrigue\nare called in to supply the defects of argument and wit. To this system\nof literary monopoly was joined an unremitting industry to blacken and\ndiscredit in every way, and by every means, all those who did not\nhold to their faction. To those who have observed the spirit of their\nconduct, it has long been clear that nothing was wanted but the power of\ncarrying the intolerance of the tongue and of the pen into a persecution\nwhich would strike at property, liberty, and life.\n\nThe desultory and faint persecution carried on against them, more from\ncompliance with form and decency, than with serious resentment, neither\nweakened their strength, nor relaxed their efforts. The issue of the\nwhole was, that, what with opposition, and what with success, a violent\nand malignant zeal, of a kind hitherto unknown in the world, had\ntaken an entire possession of their minds, and rendered their whole\nconversation, which otherwise would have been pleasing and instructive,\nperfectly disgusting. A spirit of cabal, intrigue, and proselytism,\npervaded all their thoughts, words, and actions. And, as controversial\nzeal soon turns its thoughts on force, they began to insinuate\nthemselves into a correspondence with foreign princes; in hopes, through\ntheir authority, which at first they flattered, they might bring about\nthe changes they had in view. To them it was indifferent whether these\nchanges were to be accomplished by the thunderbolt of despotism, or by\nthe earthquake of popular commotion. The correspondence between this\ncabal and the late king of Prussia, will throw no small light upon the\nspirit of all their proceedings. For the same purpose for which they\nintrigued with princes, they cultivated, in a distinguished manner, the\nmonied interest of France; and partly through the means furnished by\nthose whose peculiar offices gave them the most extensive and certain\nmeans of communication, they carefully occupied all the avenues to\nopinion.\n\nWriters, especially when they act in a body, and with one direction,\nhave great influence on the public mind; the alliance, therefore, of\nthese writers with the monied interest, had no small effect in removing\nthe popular odium and envy which attended that species of wealth. These\nwriters, like the propagators of all novelties, pretended to a great\nzeal for the poor, and the lower orders, whilst in their satires they\nrendered hateful, by every exaggeration, the faults of courts, of\nnobility, and of priesthood. They became a sort of demagogues. They\nserved as a link to unite, in favour of one object, obnoxious wealth to\nrestless and desperate poverty.\n\n\n\n\nCITY OF PARIS.\n\nThe second material of cement for their new republic is the superiority\nof the city of Paris: and this I admit is strongly connected with the\nother cementing principle of paper circulation and confiscation. It\nis in this part of the project we must look for the cause of the\ndestruction of all the old bounds of provinces and jurisdictions,\necclesiastical and secular, and the dissolution of all ancient\ncombinations of things, as well as the formation of so many small\nunconnected republics. The power of the city of Paris is evidently one\ngreat spring of all their politics. It is through the power of Paris,\nnow become the centre and focus of jobbing, that the leaders of this\nfaction direct, or rather command, the whole legislative and the whole\nexecutive government. Everything therefore must be done which can\nconfirm the authority of that city over the other republics. Paris is\ncompact; she has an enormous strength, wholly disproportioned to the\nforce of any of the square republics; and this strength is collected\nand condensed within a narrow compass. Paris has a natural and easy\nconnection of its parts, which will not be affected by any scheme of\na geometrical constitution, nor does it much signify whether its\nproportion of representation be more or less, since it has the whole\ndraft of fishes in its drag-net. The other divisions of the kingdom\nbeing hackled and torn to pieces, and separated from all their habitual\nmeans, and even principles of union, cannot, for some time at least,\nconfederate against her. Nothing was to be left in all the subordinate\nmembers, but weakness, disconnection, and confusion. To confirm this\npart of the plan, the Assembly has lately come to a resolution, that no\ntwo of their republics shall have the same commander-in-chief.\n\nTo a person who takes a view of the whole, the strength of Paris, thus\nformed, will appear a system of general weakness. It is boasted that\nthe geometrical policy has been adopted, that all local ideas should be\nsunk, and that the people should be no longer Gascons, Picards, Bretons,\nNormans; but Frenchmen, with one country, one heart, and one Assembly.\nBut instead of being all Frenchmen, the greater likelihood is, that the\ninhabitants of that region will shortly have no country. No man ever\nwas attached by a sense of pride, partiality, or real affection, to a\ndescription of square measurements. He never will glory in belonging to\nthe Chequer No. 71, or to any other badge-ticket. We begin our public\naffections in our families. No cold relation is a zealous citizen. We\npass on to our neighbourhoods, and our habitual provincial connections.\nThese are inns and resting-places. Such divisions of our country as have\nbeen formed by habit, and not by a sudden jerk of authority, were\nso many little images of the great country in which the heart found\nsomething which it could fill. The love to the whole is not extinguished\nby this subordinate partiality. Perhaps it is a sort of elemental\ntraining to those higher and more large regards, by which alone men\ncome to be affected, as with their own concern, in the prosperity of\na kingdom so extensive as that of France. In that general territory\nitself, as in the old name of provinces, the citizens are interested\nfrom old prejudices and unreasoned habits, and not on account of the\ngeometric properties of its figure. The power and pre-eminence of Paris\ndoes certainly press down and hold these republics together as long\nas it lasts. But, for the reasons I have already given you, I think it\ncannot last very long.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCIPLE OF CHURCH PROPERTY.\n\nWhy should the expenditure of a great landed property, which is a\ndispersion of the surplus product of the soil, appear intolerable to\nyou or to me, when it takes its course through the accumulation of vast\nlibraries, which are the history of the force and weakness of the human\nmind; through great collections of ancient records, medals, and coins,\nwhich attest and explain laws and customs; through paintings and\nstatues, that, by imitating nature, seem to extend the limits of\ncreation; through grand monuments of the dead, which continue the\nregards and connections of life beyond the grave; through collections of\nthe specimens of nature, which become a representative assembly of all\nthe classes and families of the world, that by disposition facilitate,\nand, by exciting curiosity, open the avenues to science? If by great\npermanent establishments, all these objects of expense are better\nsecured from the inconstant sport of personal caprice and personal\nextravagance, are they worse than if the same tastes prevailed in\nscattered individuals? Does not the sweat of the mason and carpenter,\nwho toil in order to partake the sweat of the peasant, flow as\npleasantly and as salubriously, in the construction and repair of the\nmajestic edifices of religion, as in the painted booths and sordid sties\nof vice and luxury; as honourably and as profitably in repairing\nthose sacred works, which grow hoary with innumerable years, as on the\nmomentary receptacles of transient voluptuousness; in opera-houses, and\nbrothels, and gaming-houses, and club-houses, and obelisks in the Champ\nde Mars? Is the surplus product of the olive and the vine worse employed\nin the frugal sustenance of persons, whom the fictions of a pious\nimagination raise to dignity by construing in the service of God, than\nin pampering the innumerable multitude of those who are degraded by\nbeing made useless domestics, subservient to the pride of man? Are\nthe decorations of temples an expenditure less worthy a wise man, than\nribbons, and laces, and national cockades, and petites maisons, and\npetits soupers, and all the innumerable fopperies and follies, in which\nopulence sports away the burthen of its superfluity?\n\nWe tolerate even these; not from love of them, but for fear of worse. We\ntolerate them, because property and liberty, to a degree, acquire that\ntoleration. But why proscribe the other, and surely, in every point of\nview, the more laudable use of estates? Why, through the violation\nof all property, through an outrage upon every principle of liberty,\nforcibly carry them from the better to the worse?\n\nThis comparison between the new individuals and the old corps, is made\nupon a supposition that no reform could be made in the latter. But, in\na question of reformation, I always consider corporate bodies, whether\nsole or consisting of many, to be much more susceptible of a public\ndirection by the power of the state, in the use of their property, and\nin the regulation of modes and habits of life in their members, than\nprivate citizens ever can be, or perhaps ought to be: and this seems to\nme a very material consideration for those who undertake anything which\nmerits the name of a politic enterprise. So far as to the estates of\nmonasteries.\n\nWith regard to the estates possessed by bishops and canons, and\ncommendatory abbots, I cannot find out for what reason some landed\nestates may not be held otherwise than by inheritance. Can any\nphilosophic spoiler undertake to demonstrate the positive or the\ncomparative evil of having a certain, and that too a large, portion of\nlanded property, passing in succession through persons whose title to\nit is, always in theory, and often, in fact, an eminent degree of piety,\nmorals, and learning; a property, which, by its destination, in\ntheir turn, and on the score of merit, gives to the noblest families\nrenovation and support, to the lowest the means of dignity and\nelevation; a property the tenure to which is the performance of some\nduty (whatever value you may choose to set upon that duty), and the\ncharacter of whose proprietors demands, at least, an exterior decorum,\nand gravity of manners; who are to exercise a generous but temperate\nhospitality; part of whose income they are to consider as a trust for\ncharity; and who, even when they fail in their trust, when they slide\nfrom their character, and degenerate into a mere common secular nobleman\nor gentleman, are in no respect worse than those who may succeed them in\ntheir forfeited possessions? Is it better that estates should be held\nby those who have no duty, than by those who have one?--by those whose\ncharacter and destination point to virtues, than by those who have no\nrule and direction in the expenditure of their estates but their\nown will and appetite? Nor are these estates held altogether in the\ncharacter or with the evils supposed inherent in mortmain. They pass\nfrom hand to hand with a more rapid circulation than any other. No\nexcess is good; and therefore too great a proportion of landed property\nmay be held officially for life: but it does not seem to me of material\ninjury to any commonwealth, that there should exist some estates\nthat have a chance of being acquired by other means than the previous\nacquisition of money.\n\n\n\n\nPARSIMONY NOT ECONOMY.\n\nI beg leave to tell him, that mere parsimony is not economy. It is\nseparable in theory from it; and in fact it may, or it may not, be a\nPART of economy, according to circumstances. Expense, and great expense,\nmay be an essential part in true economy. If parsimony were to be\nconsidered as one of the kinds of that virtue, there is, however,\nanother and a higher economy. Economy is a distributive virtue,\nand consists not in saving, but in selection. Parsimony requires no\nprovidence, no sagacity, no powers of combination, no comparison, no\njudgment. Mere instinct, and that not an instinct of the noblest kind,\nmay produce this false economy in perfection. The other economy\nhas larger views. It demands a discriminating judgment, and a firm,\nsagacious mind. It shuts one door to impudent importunity, only to open\nanother, and a wider, to unpresuming merit. If none but meritorious\nservice or real talent were to be rewarded, this nation has not wanted,\nand this nation will not want, the means of rewarding all the service it\never will receive, and encouraging all the merit it ever will produce.\nNo state, since the foundation of society, has been impoverished by that\nspecies of profusion. Had the economy of selection and proportion been\nat all times observed, we should not now have had an overgrown duke of\nBedford, to oppress the industry of humble men, and to limit, by the\nstandard of his own conceptions, the justice, the bounty, or, if he\npleases, the charity of the crown.\n\n\n\n\nMAJESTY OF THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION.\n\nI wish my countrymen rather to recommend to our neighbours the example\nof the British constitution, than to take models from them for the\nimprovement of our own. In the former they have got an invaluable\ntreasure. They are not, I think, without some causes of apprehension and\ncomplaint; but these they do not owe to their constitution, but to their\nown conduct. I think our happy situation owing to our constitution; but\nowing to the whole of it, and not to any part singly; owing, in a\ngreat measure, to what we have left standing in our several reviews\nand reformations, as well as to what we have altered or superadded.\nOur people will find employment enough for a truly patriotic, free,\nand independent spirit, in guarding what they possess from violation. I\nwould not exclude alteration neither; but even when I changed, it should\nbe to preserve. I should be led to my remedy by a great grievance. In\nwhat I did, I should follow the example of our ancestors. I would make\nthe reparation as nearly as possible in the style of the building.\nA politic caution, a guarded circumspection, a moral rather than\na complexional timidity, were among the ruling principles of our\nforefathers in their most decided conduct. Not being illuminated with\nthe light of which the gentlemen of France tell us they have got so\nabundant a share, they acted under a strong impression of the ignorance\nand fallibility of mankind. He that had made them thus fallible,\nrewarded them for having in their conduct attended to their nature. Let\nus imitate their caution, if we wish to deserve their fortune, or to\nretain their bequests. Let us add, if we please, but let us preserve\nwhat they have left; and, standing on the firm ground of the British\nconstitution, let us be satisfied to admire, rather than attempt to\nfollow in their desperate flights the aeronauts of France.\n\nI have told you candidly my sentiments. I think they are not likely to\nalter yours. I do not know that they ought. You are young; you cannot\nguide, but must follow the fortune of your country. But hereafter they\nmay be of some use to you, in some future form which your commonwealth\nmay take. In the present it can hardly remain; but before its final\nsettlement it may be obliged to pass, as one of our poets says, \"through\ngreat varieties of untried being,\" and in all its transmigrations to be\npurified by fire and blood.\n\n\n\n\nDUTY NOT BASED ON WILL.\n\nI cannot too often recommend it to the serious consideration of all men,\nwho think civil society to be within the province of moral jurisdiction,\nthat if we owe to it any duty, it is not subject to our will. Duties are\nnot voluntary. Duty and will are even contradictory terms. Now, though\ncivil society might be at first a voluntary act (which in many cases\nit undoubtedly was), its continuance is under a permanent, standing\ncovenant, co-existing with the society; and it attaches upon every\nindividual of that society, without any formal act of his own. This is\nwarranted by the general practice, arising out of the general sense of\nmankind. Men without their choice derive benefits from that association;\nwithout their choice they are subjected to duties in consequence of\nthese benefits; and without their choice they enter into a virtual\nobligation as binding as any that is actual. Look through the whole\nof life and the whole system of duties. Much the strongest moral\nobligations are such as were never the results of our option. I allow,\nthat if no supreme ruler exists, wise to form, and potent to enforce,\nthe moral law, there is no sanction to any contract, virtual or even\nactual, against the will of prevalent power. On that hypothesis, let any\nset of men be strong enough to set their duties at defiance, and they\ncease to be duties any longer. We have but this one appeal against\nirresistible power--\n\n    \"Si genus humanum et mortalia temnitis arma,\n     At sperate Deos memores fandi atque nefandi.\"\n\nTaking it for granted that I do not write to the disciples of the\nParisian philosophy, I may assume, that the awful Author of our being\nis the Author of our place in the order of existence; and that, having\ndisposed and marshalled us by a divine tactic, not according to\nour will, but according to his, he has, in and by that disposition,\nvirtually subjected us to act the part which belongs to the place\nassigned us. We have obligations to mankind at large, which are not in\nconsequence of any special voluntary pact. They arise from the relation\nof man to man, and the relation of man to God, which relations are not\nmatters of choice. On the contrary, the force of all the pacts which\nwe enter into with any particular person, or number of persons, amongst\nmankind, depends upon those prior obligations. In some cases the\nsubordinate relations are voluntary, in others they are necessary--but\nthe duties are all compulsive. When we marry, the choice is voluntary,\nbut the duties are not matter of choice. They are dictated by the nature\nof the situation. Dark and inscrutable are the ways by which we come\ninto the world. The instincts which give rise to this mysterious process\nof nature are not of our making. But out of physical causes, unknown\nto us, perhaps unknowable, arise moral duties, which, as we are able\nperfectly to comprehend, we are bound indispensably to perform. Parents\nmay not be consenting to their moral relation; but consenting or not,\nthey are bound to a long train of burthensome duties towards those with\nwhom they have never made a convention of any sort. Children are not\nconsenting to their relation, but their relation, without their actual\nconsent, binds them to its duties; or rather it implies their consent,\nbecause the presumed consent of every rational creature is in unison\nwith the predisposed order of things. Men come in that manner into a\ncommunity with the social state of their parents, endowed with all the\nbenefits, loaded with all the duties, of their situation. If the social\nties and ligaments, spun out of those physical relations which are the\nelements of the commonwealth, in most cases begin, and alway continue,\nindependently of our will, so, without any stipulation on our own part,\nare we bound by that relation called our country, which comprehends\n(as it has been well said) \"all the charities of all.\" Nor are we left\nwithout powerful instincts to make this duty as dear and grateful to\nus, as it is awful and coercive. It consists, in a great measure, in the\nancient order into which we are born. We may have the same geographical\nsituation, but another country; as we may have the same country in\nanother soil. The place that determines our duty to our country is a\nsocial, civil relation.\n\n\n\n\nECCLESIASTICAL CONFISCATION.\n\nThe confiscators truly have made some allowance to their victims from\nthe scraps and fragments of their own tables, from which they have been\nso harshly driven, and which have been so bountifully spread for a feast\nto the harpies of usury. But to drive men from independence to live on\nalms is itself great cruelty. That which might be a tolerable condition\nto men in one state of life, and not habituated to other things, may,\nwhen all these circumstances are altered, be a dreadful revolution; and\none to which a virtuous mind would feel pain in condemning any guilt,\nexcept that which would demand the life of the offender. But to many\nminds this punishment of DEGRADATION and INFAMY is worse than death.\nUndoubtedly it is an infinite aggravation of this cruel suffering, that\nthe persons who were taught a double prejudice in favour of religion,\nby education and by the place they held in the administration of its\nfunctions, are to receive the remnants of the property as alms from the\nprofane and impious hands of those who had plundered them of all the\nrest; to receive (if they are at all to receive) not from the charitable\ncontributions of the faithful, but from the insolent tenderness of known\nand avowed atheism, the maintenance of religion, measured out to them on\nthe standard of the contempt in which it is held; and for the purpose of\nrendering those who receive the allowance vile, and of no estimation, in\nthe eyes of mankind.\n\nBut this act of seizure of property, it seems, is a judgment in law, and\nnot a confiscation. They have, it seems, found out in the academies of\nthe Palais Royal and the Jacobins, that certain men had no right to the\npossessions which they held under law, usage, the decisions of courts,\nand the accumulated prescription of a thousand years. They say that\necclesiastics are fictitious persons, creatures of the state, whom\nat pleasure they may destroy, and of course limit and modify in every\nparticular; that the goods they possess are not properly theirs, but\nbelong to the state which created the fiction; and we are therefore not\nto trouble ourselves with what they may suffer in their natural feelings\nand natural persons, on account of what is done towards them in this\ntheir constructive character. Of what import is it under what names you\ninjure men, and deprive them of the just emoluments of a profession,\nin which they were not only permitted but encouraged by the state to\nengage; and upon the supposed certainty of which emoluments they had\nformed the plan of their lives, contracted debts, and led multitudes to\nan entire dependence upon them?\n\nYou do not imagine, sir, that I am going to compliment this miserable\ndistinction of persons with any long discussion. The arguments of\ntyranny are as contemptible as its force is dreadful. Had not your\nconfiscators, by their early crimes, obtained a power which secures\nindemnity to all the crimes of which they have since been guilty, or\nthat they can commit, it is not the syllogism of the logician, but\nthe lash of the executioner, that would have refuted a sophistry which\nbecomes an accomplice of theft and murder. The sophistic tyrants of\nParis are loud in their declamations against the departed regal tyrants,\nwho in former ages have vexed the world. They are thus bold, because\nthey are safe from the dungeons and iron cages of their old masters.\nShall we be more tender of the tyrants of our own time, when we see them\nacting worse tragedies under our eyes? shall we not use the same liberty\nthat they do, when we can use it with the same safety? when to speak\nhonest truth only requires a contempt of the opinion of those whose\nactions we abhor?\n\n\n\n\nMORAL OF HISTORY.\n\nWe do not draw the moral lessons we might from history. On the contrary,\nwithout care it may be used to vitiate our minds and to destroy our\nhappiness. In history a great volume is unrolled for our instruction,\ndrawing the materials of future wisdom from the past errors and\ninfirmities of mankind. It may, in the perversion, serve for a magazine,\nfurnishing offensive and defensive weapons for parties in church\nand state, and supplying the means of keeping alive, or reviving,\ndissensions and animosities, and adding fuel to civil fury. History\nconsists, for the greater part, of the miseries brought upon the\nworld by pride, ambition, avarice, revenge, lust, sedition, hypocrisy,\nungoverned zeal, and all the train of disorderly appetites which shake\nthe public with the same\n\n    --\"troublous storms that toss\n    The private state, and render life unsweet.\"\n\nThese vices are the CAUSES of those storms. Religion, morals, laws,\nprerogatives, privileges, liberties, rights of men, are the PRETEXTS.\nThe pretexts are always found in some specious appearance of a real\ngood. You would not secure men from tyranny and sedition, by rooting out\nof the mind the principles to which these fraudulent pretexts apply?\nIf you did, you would root out everything that is valuable in the\nhuman breast. As these are the pretexts, so the ordinary actors and\ninstruments in great public evils are kings, priests, magistrates,\nsenates, parliaments, national assemblies, judges, and captains. You\nwould not cure the evil by resolving that there should be no more\nmonarchs, nor ministers of state, nor of the gospel; no interpreters\nof law; no general officers; no public councils. You might change the\nnames. The things in some shape must remain. A certain quantum of\npower must always exist in the community, in some hands, and under some\nappellation. Wise men will apply their remedies to vices, not to names;\nto the causes of evil which are permanent, not to the occasional organs\nby which they act, and the transitory modes in which they appear.\nOtherwise you will be wise historically,--a fool in practice. Seldom\nhave two ages the same fashion in their pretexts and the same modes\nof mischief. Wickedness is a little more inventive. Whilst you are\ndiscussing fashion, the fashion is gone by. The very same vice assumes\na new body. The spirit transmigrates; and, far from losing its principle\nof life by the change of its appearance, it is renovated in its new\norgans with the fresh vigour of a juvenile activity. It walks abroad,\nit continues its ravages, whilst you are gibbeting the carcase, or\ndemolishing the tomb. You are terrifying yourselves with ghosts and\napparitions, whilst your house is the haunt of robbers. It is thus with\nall those who, attending only to the shell and husk of history, think\nthey are waging war with intolerance, pride, and cruelty, whilst, under\ncolour of abhorring the ill principles of antiquated parties, they are\nauthorizing and feeding the same odious vices in different factions, and\nperhaps in worse.\n\n\n\n\nUSE OF DEFECTS IN HISTORY.\n\nNot that I derogate from the use of history. It is a great improver of\nthe understanding, by showing both men and affairs in a great variety of\nviews. From this source much political wisdom may be learned; that\nis, may be learned as habit, not as precept; and as an exercise to\nstrengthen the mind, as furnishing materials to enlarge and enrich it,\nnot as a repertory of cases and precedents for a lawyer: if it were, a\nthousand times better would it be that a statesman had never learned to\nread--vellem nescirent literas. This method turns their understanding\nfrom the object before them, and from the present exigencies of the\nworld, to comparisons with former times, of which, after all, we can\nknow very little, and very imperfectly; and our guides, the historians,\nwho are to give us their true interpretation, are often prejudiced,\noften ignorant, often fonder of system than of truth. Whereas, if a\nman with reasonably good parts and natural sagacity, and not in the\nleading-strings of any master, will look steadily on the business before\nhim, without being diverted by retrospect and comparison, he may be\ncapable of forming a reasonably good judgment of what is to be done.\nThere are some fundamental points in which nature never changes--but\nthey are few and obvious, and belong rather to morals than to politics.\nBut so far as regards political matter, the human mind and human affairs\nare susceptible of infinite modifications, and of combinations wholly\nnew and unlooked for. Very few, for instance, could have imagined that\nproperty, which has been taken for natural dominion, should, through the\nwhole of a vast kingdom, lose all its importance and even its influence.\nThis is what history or books of speculation could hardly have taught\nus. How many could have thought, that the most complete and formidable\nrevolution in a great empire should be made by men of letters, not as\nsubordinate instruments and trumpeters of sedition, but as the chief\ncontrivers and managers, and in a short time as the open administrators\nand sovereign rulers? Who could have imagined that atheism could produce\none of the most violently operative principles of fanaticism? Who could\nhave imagined that, in a commonwealth in a manner cradled in war, and in\nextensive and dreadful war, military commanders should be of little or\nno account? That the Convention should not contain one military man of\nname? That administrative bodies in a state of the utmost confusion, and\nof but a momentary duration, and composed of men with not one imposing\npart of character, should be able to govern the country and its armies\nwith an authority which the most settled senates, and the most respected\nmonarchs, scarcely ever had in the same degree? This, for one, I confess\nI did not foresee, though all the rest was present to me very early, and\nnot out of my apprehension even for several years.\n\n\n\n\nSOCIAL CONTRACT.\n\nSociety is indeed a contract. Subordinate contracts for objects of mere\noccasional interest may be dissolved at pleasure--but the state ought\nnot to be considered nothing better than a partnership agreement in a\ntrade of pepper and coffee, calico or tobacco, or some other such low\nconcern, to be taken up for a little temporary interest, and to be\ndissolved by the fancy of the parties. It is to be looked on with other\nreverence; because it is not a partnership in things subservient only to\nthe gross animal existence of a temporary and perishable nature. It is\na partnership in all science; a partnership in all art; a partnership in\nevery virtue, and in all perfection. As the ends of such a partnership\ncannot be obtained in many generations, it becomes a partnership not\nonly between those who are living, but between those who are living,\nthose who are dead, and those who are to be born. Each contract of\neach particular state is but a clause in the great primeval contract of\neternal society, linking the lower with the higher natures, connecting\nthe visible and invisible world, according to a fixed compact sanctioned\nby the inviolable oath which holds all physical and all moral natures\neach in their appointed place. This law is not subject to the will of\nthose, who by an obligation above them, and infinitely superior, are\nbound to submit their will to that law. The municipal corporations of\nthat universal kingdom are not morally at liberty at their pleasure, and\non their speculations of a contingent improvement, wholly to separate\nand tear asunder the bands of their subordinate community, and to\ndissolve it into an unsocial, uncivil, unconnected chaos of elementary\nprinciples. It is the first and supreme necessity only, a necessity that\nis not chosen, but chooses, a necessity paramount to deliberation, that\nadmits no discussion, and demands no evidence, which alone can justify\na resort to anarchy. This necessity is no exception to the rule;\nbecause this necessity itself is a part too of that moral and physical\ndisposition of things to which man must be obedient by consent of force:\nbut if that which is only submission to necessity should be made the\nobject of choice, the law is broken, nature is disobeyed, and the\nrebellious are outlawed, cast forth, and exiled from this world of\nreason, and order, and peace, and virtue, and fruitful penitence,\ninto the antagonist world of madness, discord, vice, confusion, and\nunavailing sorrow.\n\n\n\n\nPRESCRIPTIVE RIGHTS.\n\nThe crown has considered me after long service; the crown has paid the\nduke of Bedford by advance. He has had a long credit for any service\nwhich he may perform hereafter. He is secure, and long may he be secure,\nin his advance, whether he performs any services or not. But let him\ntake care how he endangers the safety of that constitution which secures\nhis own utility or his own insignificance; or how he discourages those\nwho take up even puny arms to defend an order of things which, like the\nsun of heaven, shines alike on the useful and the worthless. His grants\nare engrafted on the public law of Europe, covered with the awful\nhoar of innumerable ages. They are guarded by the sacred rules of\nprescription, found in that full treasury of jurisprudence from which\nthe jejuneness and penury of our municipal law has, by degrees, been\nenriched and strengthened. This prescription I had my share (a very full\nshare) in bringing to its perfection. The duke of Bedford will stand as\nlong as prescriptive law endures; as long as the great stable laws of\nproperty, common to us with all civilized nations, are kept in their\nintegrity, and without the smallest intermixture of laws, maxims,\nprinciples, or precedents, of the grand revolution. They are secure\nagainst all changes but one. The whole revolutionary system, institutes,\ndigest, code, novels, text, gloss, comment, are not only not the same,\nbut they are the very reverse, and the reverse fundamentally, of all\nthe laws, on which civil life has hitherto been upheld in all the\ngovernments of the world. The learned professors of the rights of man\nregard prescription not as a title to bar all claim, set up against all\npossession, but they look on prescription as itself a bar against the\npossessor and proprietor. They hold an immemorial possession to be no\nmore than a long-continued, and therefore an aggravated injustice.\n\nSuch are THEIR ideas, such THEIR religion, and such THEIR law. But as to\nOUR country and OUR race, as long as the well-compacted structure of our\nchurch and state, the sanctuary, the holy of holies of that ancient\nlaw, defended by reverence, defended by power, a fortress at once and a\ntemple, shall stand inviolate on the brow of the British Sion; as long\nas the British monarchy, not more limited than fenced by the orders of\nthe state, shall, like the proud Keep of Windsor, rising in the majesty\nof proportion, and girt with the double belt of its kindred and coeval\ntowers,--as long as this awful structure shall oversee and guard the\nsubjected land--so long the mounds and dykes of the low, fat Bedford\nLevel will have nothing to fear from all the pickaxes of all the\nlevellers of France. As long as our sovereign lord the king, and his\nfaithful subjects, the lords and commons of this realm,--the triple\ncord, which no man can break; the solemn, sworn, constitutional\nfrank-pledge of this nation; the firm guarantees of each other's being,\nand each other's rights; the joint and several securities, each in its\nplace and order, for every kind and every quality, of property and of\ndignity:--as long as these endure, so long the duke of Bedford is safe:\nand we are all safe together--the high from the blights of envy and the\nspoliations of rapacity; the low from the iron hand of oppression and\nthe insolent spurn of contempt. Amen! and so be it: and so it will be,--\n\n    \"Dum domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum\n     Accolet; imperiumque pater Romanus habebit.\"\n\n\n\n\nMADNESS OF INNOVATION.\n\nNovelty is not the only source of zeal. Why should not a Maccabeus\nand his brethren arise to assert the honour of the ancient law, and to\ndefend the temple of their forefathers, with as ardent a spirit as can\ninspire any innovator to destroy the monuments of the piety and the\nglory of ancient ages? It is not a hazarded assertion, it is a great\ntruth, that when once things are gone out of their ordinary course, it\nis by acts out of the ordinary course they can alone be re-established.\nRepublican spirit can only be combated by a spirit of the same nature:\nof the same nature, but informed with another principle, and pointing to\nanother end. I would persuade a resistance, both to the corruption and\nto the reformation that prevails. It will not be the weaker, but\nmuch the stronger, for combating both together. A victory over real\ncorruptions would enable us to baffle the spurious and pretended\nreformations. I would not wish to excite, or even to tolerate, that kind\nof evil spirit which invokes the powers of hell to rectify the disorders\nof the earth. No! I would add my voice with better, and I trust, more\npotent charms, to draw down justice and wisdom and fortitude from\nheaven, for the correction of human vice, and the recalling of human\nerror from the devious ways into which it has been betrayed. I would\nwish to call the impulses of individuals at once to the aid and to the\ncontrol of authority. By this, which I call the true republican spirit,\nparadoxical as it may appear, monarchies alone can be rescued from\nthe imbecility of courts and the madness of the crowd. This republican\nspirit would not suffer men in high place to bring ruin on their country\nand on themselves. It would reform, not by destroying, but by saving,\nthe great, the rich, and the powerful. Such a republican spirit, we\nperhaps fondly conceive to have animated the distinguished heroes and\npatriots of old, who knew no mode of policy but religion and virtue.\nThese they would have paramount to all constitutions; they would not\nsuffer monarchs, or senates, or popular assemblies, under pretences of\ndignity, or authority, or freedom, to shake off those moral riders\nwhich reason has appointed to govern every sort of rude power. These,\nin appearance loading them by their weight, do by that pressure augment\ntheir essential force. The momentum is increased by the extraneous\nweight. It is true in moral, as it is in mechanical science. It is true,\nnot only in the draught, but in the race. These riders of the great, in\neffect, hold the reins which guide them in their course, and wear the\nspur that stimulates them to the goals of honour and of safety. The\ngreat must submit to the dominion of prudence and of virtue, or none\nwill long submit to the dominion of the great.\n\n    \"Dis te minorem quod geris imperas.\"\n\nThis is the feudal tenure which they cannot alter.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STATE, ITS OWN REVENUE.\n\nThe revenue of the state is the state. In effect all depends upon it,\nwhether for support or for reformation. The dignity of every occupation\nwholly depends upon the quantity and the kind of virtue that may be\nexerted in it. As all great qualities of the mind which operate in\npublic, and are not merely suffering and passive, require force for\ntheir display, I had almost said for their unequivocal existence, the\nrevenue, which is the spring of all power, becomes in its administration\nthe sphere of every active virtue. Public virtue, being of a nature\nmagnificent and splendid, instituted for great things, and conversant\nabout great concerns, requires abundant scope and room, and cannot\nspread and grow under confinement, and in circumstances straitened,\nnarrow, and sordid. Through the revenue alone the body politic can act\nin its true genius and character, and therefore it will display just\nas much of its collective virtue, and as much of that virtue which\nmay characterize those who move it, and are, as it were, its life and\nguiding principle, as it is possessed of a just revenue. For from hence\nnot only magnanimity, and liberality, and beneficence, and fortitude,\nand providence, and the tutelary protection of all good arts, derive\ntheir food, and the growth of their organs, but continence, and\nself-denial, and labour, and vigilance, and frugality, and whatever else\nthere is in which the mind shows itself above the appetite, are nowhere\nmore in their proper element than in the provision and distribution of\nthe public wealth. It is therefore not without reason that the science\nof speculative and practical finance, which must take to its aid so many\nauxiliary branches of knowledge, stands high in the estimation, not\nonly of the ordinary sort, but of the wisest and best men; and as this\nscience has grown with the progress of its object, the prosperity and\nimprovement of nations has generally increased with the increase of\ntheir revenues; and they will both continue to grow and flourish, as\nlong as the balance between what is left to strengthen the efforts of\nindividuals, and what is collected for the common efforts of the state,\nbear to each other a due reciprocal proportion, and are kept in a close\ncorrespondence and communication.\n\n\n\n\nMETAPHYSICAL DEPRAVITY.\n\nThese philosophers are fanatics; independent of any interest, which if\nit operated alone would make them much more tractable, they are carried\nwith such a headlong rage towards every desperate trial, that they would\nsacrifice the whole human race to the slightest of their experiments.\nI am better able to enter into the character of this description of\nmen than the noble duke can be. I have lived long and variously in the\nworld. Without any considerable pretensions to literature in myself, I\nhave aspired to the love of letters. I have lived for a great many\nyears in habitudes with those who professed them. I can form a tolerable\nestimate of what is likely to happen from a character chiefly dependent\nfor fame and fortune on knowledge and talent, as well in its morbid and\nperverted state as in that which is sound and natural. Naturally, men so\nformed and finished are the first gifts of Providence to the world. But\nwhen they have once thrown off the fear of God, which was in all ages\ntoo often the case, and the fear of men, which is now the case, and when\nin that state they come to understand one another, and to act in corps,\na more dreadful calamity cannot arise out of hell to scourge mankind.\nNothing can be conceived more hard than the heart of a thorough-bred\nmetaphysician. It comes nearer to the cold malignity of a wicked\nspirit than to the frailty and passion of a man. It is like that of the\nprinciple of evil himself, incorporeal, pure, unmixed, dephlegmated,\ndefecated evil. It is no easy operation to eradicate humanity from the\nhuman breast. What Shakespeare calls \"the compunctious visitings of\nnature,\" will sometimes knock at their hearts, and protest against their\nmurderous speculations. But they have a means of compounding with\ntheir nature. Their humanity is not dissolved. They only give it a\nlong prorogation. They are ready to declare, that they do not think two\nthousand years too long a period for the good that they pursue. It is\nremarkable, that they never see any way to their projected good but\nby the road of some evil. Their imagination is not fatigued with the\ncontemplation of human suffering through the wild waste of centuries\nadded to centuries of misery and desolation. Their humanity is at\ntheir horizon--and, like the horizon, it always flies before them. The\ngeometricians and the chemists bring the one from the dry bones of their\ndiagrams, and the other from the soot of their furnaces, dispositions\nthat make them worse than indifferent about those feelings and habitudes\nwhich are the supports of the moral world. Ambition is come upon\nthem suddenly; they are intoxicated with it, and it has rendered them\nfearless of the danger which may from thence arise to others or to\nthemselves. These philosophers consider men in their experiments no more\nthan they do mice in an air-pump, or in a recipient of mephitic gas.\nWhatever his grace may think of himself, they look upon him, and\neverything that belongs to him, with no more regard than they do upon\nthe whiskers of that little long-tailed animal, that has been long\nthe game of the grave, demure, insidious, spring-nailed, velvet-pawed,\ngreen-eyed philosophers, whether going upon two legs or upon four.\n\n\n\n\nPERSONAL AND ANCESTRAL CLAIMS.\n\nI really am at a loss to draw any sort of parallel between the public\nmerits of his grace, by which he justifies the grants he holds, and\nthese services of mine, on the favourable construction of which I have\nobtained what his grace so much disapproves. In private life, I have not\nat all the honour of acquaintance with the noble duke. But I ought to\npresume, and it costs me nothing to do so, that he abundantly deserves\nthe esteem and love of all who live with him. But as to public service,\nwhy truly it would not be more ridiculous for me to compare myself in\nrank, in fortune, in splendid descent, in youth, strength, or figure,\nwith the duke of Bedford, than to make a parallel between his services\nand my attempts to be useful to my country. It would not be gross\nadulation, but uncivil irony, to say, that he has any public merit of\nhis own to keep alive the idea of the services by which his vast landed\npensions were obtained. My merits, whatever they are, are original\nand personal; his are derivative. It is his ancestor, the original\npensioner, that has laid up this inexhaustible fund of merit, which\nmakes his grace so very delicate and exceptious about the merit of all\nother grantees of the crown. Had he permitted me to remain in quiet, I\nshould have said, 'Tis his estate; that's enough. It is his by law; what\nhave I to do with it or its history? He would naturally have said on his\nside, 'Tis this man's fortune. He is as good now as my ancestor was two\nhundred and fifty years ago. I am a young man with very old pensions: he\nis an old man with very young pensions,--that's all. Why will his grace,\nby attacking me, force me reluctantly to compare my little merit with\nthat which obtained from the crown those prodigies of profuse donation\nby which he tramples on the mediocrity of humble and laborious\nindividuals? I would willingly leave him to the herald's college,\nwhich the philosophy of the sans culottes (prouder by far than all the\nGarters, and Norroys, and Clarencieux, and Rouge Dragons, that ever\npranced in a procession of what his friends call aristocrats and\ndespots) will abolish with contumely and scorn. These historians,\nrecorders, and blazoners of virtues and arms, differ wholly from that\nother description of historians, who never assign any act of politicians\nto a good motive. These gentle historians, on the contrary, dip their\npens in nothing but the milk of human kindness. They seek no further for\nmerit than the preamble of a patent, or the inscription of a tomb. With\nthem every man created a peer is first a hero ready made. They judge of\nevery man's capacity for office by the offices he has filled; and the\nmore offices, the more ability. Every general-officer with them is\na Marlborough; every statesman a Burleigh; every judge a Murray or\na Yorke. They who, alive, were laughed at or pitied by all their\nacquaintance, make as good a figure as the best of them in the pages of\nGuillim, Edmondson, and Collins.\n\n\n\n\nMONASTIC AND PHILOSOPHIC SUPERSTITION.\n\nBut the institutions savour of superstition in their very principle;\nand they nourish it by a permanent and standing influence. This I do\nnot mean to dispute; but this ought not to hinder you from deriving from\nsuperstition itself any resources which may thence be furnished for the\npublic advantage. You derive benefits from many dispositions and many\npassions of the human mind, which are of as doubtful a colour, in the\nmoral eye, as superstition itself. It was your business to correct and\nmitigate everything which was noxious in this passion, as in all the\npassions. But is superstition the greatest of all possible vices? In its\npossible excess I think it becomes a very great evil. It is, however,\na moral subject; and of course admits of all degrees and all\nmodifications. Superstition is the religion of feeble minds; and they\nmust be tolerated in an intermixture of it, in some trifling or some\nenthusiastic shape or other, else you will deprive weak minds of a\nresource found necessary to the strongest. The body of all true religion\nconsists, to be sure, in obedience to the will of the Sovereign of the\nworld; in a confidence in his declarations, and in imitation of his\nperfections. The rest is our own. It may be prejudicial to the great\nend; it may be auxiliary. Wise men, who as such are not ADMIRERS (not\nadmirers at least of the munera terrae), are not violently attached to\nthese things, nor do they violently hate them. Wisdom is not the most\nsevere corrector of folly. They are the rival follies, which mutually\nwage so unrelenting a war; and which make so cruel a use of their\nadvantages, as they can happen to engage the immoderate vulgar, on the\none side, or the other, in their quarrels. Prudence would be neuter;\nbut if, in the contention between fond attachment and fierce antipathy\nconcerning things in their nature not made to produce such heats, a\nprudent man were obliged to make a choice of what errors and excesses\nof enthusiasm he would condemn or bear, perhaps he would think the\nsuperstition which builds, to be more tolerable than that which\ndemolishes; that which adorns a country, than that which deforms it;\nthat which endows, than that which plunders; that which disposes to\nmistaken beneficence, than that which stimulates to real injustice; that\nwhich leads a man to refuse to himself lawful pleasures, than that which\nsnatches from others the scanty subsistence of their self-denial. Such,\nI think, is very nearly the state of the question between the ancient\nfounders of monkish superstition, and the superstition of the pretended\nphilosophers of the hour.\n\n\n\n\nDIFFICULTY AND WISDOM OF CORPORATE REFORM.\n\nThere are moments in the fortune of states when particular men are\ncalled to make improvements by great mental exertion. In those moments,\neven when they seem to enjoy the confidence of their prince and country,\nand to be invested with full authority, they have not always apt\ninstruments. A politician, to do great things, looks for a POWER, what\nour workmen call a PURCHASE; and if he finds that power, in politics\nas in mechanics, he cannot be at a loss to apply it. In the monastic\ninstitutions, in my opinion, was found a great POWER for the mechanism\nof politic benevolence. There were revenues with a public direction;\nthere were men wholly set apart and dedicated to public purposes,\nwithout any other than public ties and public principles; men without\nthe possibility of converting the estate of the community into a\nprivate fortune; men denied to self-interests, whose avarice is for\nsome community; men to whom personal poverty is honour, and implicit\nobedience stands in the place of freedom. In vain shall a man look to\nthe possibility of making such things when he wants them. The winds blow\nas they list. These institutions are the products of enthusiasm; they\nare the instruments of wisdom. Wisdom cannot create materials; they are\nthe gifts of nature or of chance; her pride is in the use. The perennial\nexistence of bodies corporate and their fortunes are things particularly\nsuited to a man who has long views; who meditates designs that\nrequire time in fashioning, and which propose duration when they are\naccomplished. He is not deserving to rank high, or even to be mentioned\nin the order of great statesmen, who, having obtained the command and\ndirection of such a power as existed in the wealth, the discipline,\nand the habits of such corporations, as those which you have rashly\ndestroyed, cannot find any way of converting it to the great and lasting\nbenefit of his country. On the view of this subject, a thousand uses\nsuggest themselves to a contriving mind. To destroy any power, growing\nwild from the rank productive force of the human mind, is almost\ntantamount, in the moral world, to the destruction of the apparently\nactive properties of bodies in the material. It would be like the\nattempt to destroy (if it were in our competence to destroy) the\nexpansive force of fixed air in nitre, or the power of steam, or of\nelectricity, or of magnetism. These energies always existed in\nnature, and they were always discernible. They seemed, some of them\nunserviceable, some noxious, some no better than a sport to children;\nuntil contemplative ability, combining with practic skill, tamed their\nwild nature, subdued them to use, and rendered them at once the most\npowerful and the most tractable agents, in subservience to the great\nviews and designs of men. Did fifty thousand persons, whose mental and\nwhose bodily labour you might direct, and so many hundred thousand a\nyear of a revenue, which was neither lazy nor superstitious, appear too\nbig for your abilities to wield? Had you no way of using the men but by\nconverting monks into pensioners? Had you no way of turning the revenue\nto account but through the improvident resource of a spendthrift sale?\nIf you were thus destitute of mental funds, the proceeding is in its\nnatural course. Your politicians do not understand their trade; and\ntherefore they sell their tools.\n\n\n\n\nDISTINCTIVE CHARACTER OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM.\n\n\"Protestantism of the English Church,\" very indefinite, because the term\nPROTESTANT, which you apply, is too general for the conclusions which\none of your accurate understanding would wish to draw from it; and\nbecause a great deal of argument will depend on the use that is made\nof that term. It is NOT a fundamental part of the settlement at\nthe Revolution, that the state should be protestant without ANY\nQUALIFICATION OF THE TERM. With a qualification it is unquestionably\ntrue; not in all its latitude. With the qualification, it was true\nbefore the Revolution. Our predecessors in legislation were not so\nirrational (not to say impious) as to form an operose ecclesiastical\nestablishment, and even to render the state itself in some degree\nsubservient to it, when their religion (if such it might be called) was\nnothing but a mere NEGATION of some other--without any positive idea\neither of doctrine, discipline, worship, or morals, in the scheme which\nthey professed themselves, and which they imposed upon others, even\nunder penalties and incapacities.--No! no! This never could have\nbeen done even by reasonable atheists. They who think religion of no\nimportance to the state, have abandoned it to the conscience or caprice\nof the individual; they make no provision for it whatsoever, but\nleave every club to make, or not, a voluntary contribution towards its\nsupport, according to their fancies. This would be consistent. The other\nalways appeared to me to be a monster of contradiction and absurdity.\nIt was for that reason that, some years ago, I strenuously opposed the\nclergy who petitioned, to the number of about three hundred, to be freed\nfrom the subscription to the thirty-nine articles, without proposing to\nsubstitute any other in their place. There never has been a religion of\nthe state (the few years of the Parliament only excepted), but that\nof THE ESPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ENGLAND; the Episcopal Church of England,\nbefore the Reformation, connected with the see of Rome, since then,\ndisconnected and protesting against some of her doctrines, and against\nthe whole of her authority, as binding in our national church: nor did\nthe fundamental laws of this kingdom (in Ireland it has been the\nsame) ever know, at any period, any other church AS AN OBJECT OF\nESTABLISHMENT; or in that light, any other protestant religion. Nay, our\nprotestant TOLERATION itself at the Revolution, and until within a\nfew years, required a signature of thirty-six, and a part of the\nthirty-seventh, out of the thirty-nine articles. So little idea had they\nat the Revolution of ESTABLISHING Protestantism indefinitely, that\nthey did not indefinitely TOLERATE it under that name. I do not mean\nto praise that strictness, where nothing more than merely religious\ntoleration is concerned. Toleration, being a part of moral and political\nprudence, ought to be tender and large. A tolerant government ought not\nto be too scrupulous in its investigations; but may bear without blame,\nnot only very ill-grounded doctrines, but even many things that are\npositively vices, where they are adulta et praevalida. The good of the\ncommonwealth is the rule which rides over the rest; and to this every\nother must completely submit.\n\n\n\n\nFICTITIOUS LIBERTY.\n\nA brave people will certainly prefer liberty accompanied with a virtuous\npoverty to a depraved and wealthy servitude. But before the price of\ncomfort and opulence is paid, one ought to be pretty sure it is real\nliberty which is purchased, and that she is to be purchased at no other\nprice. I shall always, however, consider that liberty as very equivocal\nin her appearance, which has not wisdom and justice for her companions,\nand does not lead prosperity and plenty in her train.\n\n\n\n\nFRENCH IGNORANCE OF ENGLISH CHARACTER.\n\nWhen I assert anything else, as concerning the people of England,\nI speak from observation, not from authority; but I speak from the\nexperience I have had in a pretty extensive and mixed communication\nwith the inhabitants of this kingdom, of all descriptions and ranks,\nand after a course of attentive observation, begun in early life,\nand continued for nearly forty years. I have often been astonished,\nconsidering that we are divided from you but by a slender dyke of about\ntwenty-four miles, and that the mutual intercourse between the two\ncountries has lately been very great, to find how little you seem to\nknow of us. I suspect that this is owing to your forming a judgment of\nthis nation from certain publications, which do, very erroneously,\nif they do at all, represent the opinions and dispositions generally\nprevalent in England. The vanity, restlessness, petulance, and spirit of\nintrigue, of several petty cabals, who attempt to hide their total want\nof consequence in bustle and noise, and puffing, and mutual quotation\nof each other, makes you imagine that our contemptuous neglect of their\nabilities is a general mark of acquiescence in their opinions. No such\nthing, I assure you. Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make\nthe field ring with their importunate chink, whilst thousands of great\ncattle, reposed beneath the shadow of the British oak, chew the cud and\nare silent, pray do not imagine that those who make the noise are the\nonly inhabitants of the field; that, of course, they are many in number;\nor that, after all, they are other than the little, shrivelled, meagre,\nhopping, though loud and troublesome insects of the hour.\n\n\n\n\nTHE \"PEOPLE,\" AND \"OMNIPOTENCE\" OF PARLIAMENT.\n\nWhen the supreme authority of the people is in question, before we\nattempt to extend or to confine it, we ought to fix in our minds, with\nsome degree of distinctness, an idea of what it is we mean when we say\nthe PEOPLE.\n\nIn a state of RUDE nature there is no such thing as a people. A number\nof men in themselves have no collective capacity. The idea of a people\nis the idea of a corporation. It is wholly artificial; and made like all\nother legal fictions by common agreement. What the particular nature of\nthat agreement was, is collected from the form into which the particular\nsociety has been cast. Any other is not THEIR covenant. When men,\ntherefore, break up the original compact or agreement, which gives its\ncorporate form and capacity to a state, they are no longer a people;\nthey have no longer a corporate existence; they have no longer a legal,\ncoactive force to bind within, nor a claim to be recognised abroad. They\nare a number of vague, loose individuals, and nothing more. With them\nall is to begin again. Alas! they little know how many a weary step is\nto be taken before they can form themselves into a mass, which has a\ntrue, politic personality.\n\nWe hear much from men, who have not acquired their hardness of assertion\nfrom the profundity of their thinking, about the omnipotence of a\nMAJORITY, in such a dissolution of an ancient society as hath taken\nplace in France. But amongst men so disbanded, there can be no such\nthing as majority or minority; or power in any one person to bind\nanother. The power of acting by a majority, which the gentlemen\ntheorists seem to assume so readily, after they have violated the\ncontract out of which it has arisen (if at all it existed), must be\ngrounded on two assumptions; first, that of an incorporation produced by\nunanimity; and, secondly, an unanimous agreement, that the act of a mere\nmajority (say of one) shall pass with them and with others as the act of\nthe whole.\n\nWe are so little affected by things which are habitual, that we consider\nthis idea of the decision of a MAJORITY as if it were a law of our\noriginal nature; but such constructive whole, residing in a part only,\nis one of the most violent fictions of positive law that ever has been\nor can be made on the principles of artificial incorporation. Out\nof civil society nature knows nothing of it; nor are men, even when\narranged according to civil order, otherwise than by very long training,\nbrought at all to submit to it. The mind is brought far more easily\nto acquiesce in the proceedings of one man, or a few, who act under\na general procuration for the state, than in the vote of a victorious\nmajority in councils, in which every man has his share in the\ndeliberation. For there the beaten party are exasperated and soured by\nthe previous contention, and mortified by the conclusive defeat. This\nmode of decision, where wills may be so nearly equal, where, according\nto circumstances, the smaller number may be the stronger force, and\nwhere apparent reason may be all upon one side, and on the other little\nelse than impetuous appetite; all this must be the result of a very\nparticular and special convention, confirmed afterwards by long habits\nof obedience, by a sort of discipline in society, and by a strong\nhand, vested with stationary, permanent power, to enforce this sort\nof constructive general will. What organ it is that shall declare the\ncorporate mind is so much a matter of positive arrangement, that several\nstates, for the validity of several of their acts, have required a\nproportion of voices much greater than that of a mere majority. These\nproportions are so entirely governed by convention, that in some cases\nthe minority decides.\n\n\n\n\nMAGNANIMITY OF ENGLISH PEOPLE.\n\nI do not accuse the people of England. As to the great majority of the\nnation, they have done whatever in their several ranks, and conditions,\nand descriptions, was required of them by their relative situations in\nsociety; and from those the great mass of mankind cannot depart, without\nthe subversion of all public order. They look up to that government\nwhich they obey that they may be protected. They ask to be led and\ndirected by those rulers whom Providence and the laws of their country\nhave set over them, and under their guidance to walk in the ways of\nsafety and honour. They have again delegated the greatest trust which\nthey have to bestow to those faithful representatives who made their\ntrue voice heard against the disturbers and destroyers of Europe. They\nsuffered, with unapproving acquiescence, solicitations which they had\nin no shape desired, to an unjust and usurping power whom they had\nnever provoked, and whose hostile menaces they did not dread. When the\nexigencies of the public service could only be met by their voluntary\nzeal, they started forth with an ardour which out-stripped the wishes of\nthose who had injured them by doubting whether it might not be necessary\nto have recourse to compulsion. They have, in all things, reposed an\nenduring, but not an unreflecting, confidence. That confidence demands\na full return, and fixes a responsibility on the ministers entire and\nundivided. The people stands acquitted, if the war is not carried on in\na manner suited to its objects. If the public honour is tarnished, if\nthe public safety suffers any detriment, the ministers, not the people,\nare to answer it, and they alone. Its armies, its navies, are given to\nthem without stint or restriction. Its treasures are poured out at their\nfeet. Its constancy is ready to second all their efforts. They are not\nto fear a responsibility for acts of manly adventure. The responsibility\nwhich they are to dread is, lest they should show themselves unequal\nto the expectation of a brave people. The more doubtful may be the\nconstitutional and economical questions upon which they have received so\nmarked a support, the more loudly they are called upon to support\nthis great war, for the success of which their country is willing to\nsupersede considerations of no slight importance. Where I speak of\nresponsibility, I do not mean to exclude that species of it which the\nlegal powers of the country have a right finally to exact from those\nwho abuse a public trust; but high as this is, there is a responsibility\nwhich attaches on them, from which the whole legitimate power of this\nkingdom cannot absolve them: there is a responsibility to conscience and\nto glory; a responsibility to the existing world, and to that posterity\nwhich men of their eminence cannot avoid for glory or for shame; a\nresponsibility to a tribunal at which not only ministers, but kings and\nparliaments, but even nations themselves, must one day answer.\n\n\n\n\nTRUE BASIS OF CIVIL SOCIETY.\n\nWe know, and what is better, we feel inwardly, that religion is the\nbasis of civil society, and the source of all good and of all comfort.\nIn England we are so convinced of this, that there is no rust of\nsuperstition with which the accumulated absurdity of the human mind\nmight have crusted it over in the course of ages, that ninety-nine in a\nhundred of the people of England would not prefer to impiety. We shall\nnever be such fools as to call in an enemy to the substance of any\nsystem to remove its corruptions, to supply its defects, or to perfect\nits construction. If our religious tenets should ever want a further\nelucidation, we shall not call on atheism to explain them. We shall not\nlight up our temple from that unhallowed fire. It will be illuminated\nwith other lights. It will be perfumed with other incense than the\ninfectious stuff which is imported by the smugglers of adulterated\nmetaphysics. If our ecclesiastical establishment should want a revision,\nit is not avarice or rapacity, public or private, that we shall employ\nfor the audit, or receipt, or application of its consecrated revenue.\nViolently condemning neither the Greek nor the Armenian, nor, since\nheats are subsided, the Roman system of religion, we prefer the\nProtestant; not because we think it has less of the Christian religion\nin it, but because, in our judgment, it has more. We are Protestants,\nnot from indifference, but from zeal. We know, and it is our pride to\nknow, that man is by his constitution a religious animal; that atheism\nis against, not only our reason, but our instincts; and that it cannot\nprevail long. But if, in the moment of riot, and in a drunken delirium\nfrom the hot spirit drawn out of the alembic of hell, which in France is\nnow so furiously boiling, we should uncover our nakedness, by throwing\noff that Christian religion which has hitherto been our boast and\ncomfort, and one great source of civilization amongst us, and among many\nother nations, we are apprehensive (being well aware that the mind\nwill not endure a void) that some uncouth, pernicious, and degrading\nsuperstition might take place of it.\n\n\n\n\nROUSSEAU.\n\nIt is undoubtedly true, though it may seem paradoxical, but in general,\nthose who are habitually employed in finding and displaying faults, are\nunqualified for the work of reformation; because their minds are not\nonly unfurnished with patterns of the fair and good, but by habit they\ncome to take no delight in the contemplation of those things. By hating\nvices too much, they come to love men too little. It is therefore not\nwonderful that they should be indisposed and unable to serve them. From\nhence arises the complexional disposition of some of your guides to pull\neverything in pieces. At this malicious game they display the whole of\ntheir quadrimanous activity. As to the rest, the paradoxes of eloquent\nwriters, brought forth purely as a sport of fancy, to try their talents,\nto rouse attention and excite surprise, are taken up by these gentleman,\nnot in the spirit of the original authors, as means of cultivating\ntheir taste and improving their style. These paradoxes become with them\nserious grounds of action, upon which they proceed in regulating the\nmost important concerns of the state. Cicero ludicrously describes Cato\nas endeavouring to act, in the commonwealth, upon the school paradoxes,\nwhich exercised the wits of the junior students in the Stoic philosophy.\nIf this was true of Cato, these gentlemen copy after him in the manner\nof some persons who lived about his time--pede nudo Catonem. Mr. Hume\ntold me that he had from Rousseau himself the secret of his principles\nof composition. That acute, though eccentric observer, had perceived,\nthat to strike and interest the public, the marvellous must be produced;\nthat the marvellous of the heathen mythology had long since lost its\neffects; that giants, magicians, fairies, and heroes of romance which\nsucceeded, had exhausted the portion of credulity which belonged to\ntheir age; that now nothing was left to a writer but that species of the\nmarvellous which might still be produced, and with as great an effect\nas ever, though in another way; that is, the marvellous in life, in\nmanners, in characters, and in extraordinary situations, giving rise\nto new and unlooked-for strokes in politics and morals. I believe, that\nwere Rousseau alive, and in one of his lucid intervals, he would be\nshocked at the practical frenzy of his scholars, who in their paradoxes\nare servile imitators, and even in their incredulity discover an\nimplicit faith.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL HEROES.\n\nMankind has no title to demand that we should be slaves to their guilt\nand insolence; or that we should serve them in spite of themselves.\nMinds, sore with the poignant sense of insulted virtue, filled with high\ndisdain against the pride of triumphant baseness, often have it not in\ntheir choice to stand their ground. Their complexion (which might defy\nthe rack) cannot go through such a trial. Something very high must\nfortify men to that proof. But when I am driven to comparison, surely I\ncannot hesitate for a moment to prefer to such men as are common, those\nheroes who, in the midst of despair, perform all the tasks of hope; who\nsubdue their feelings to their duties; who, in the cause of humanity,\nliberty, and honour, abandon all the satisfactions of life, and every\nday incur a fresh risk of life itself. Do me the justice to believe\nthat I never can prefer any fastidious virtue (virtue still) to the\nunconquered perseverance, to the affectionate patience of those who\nwatch day and night by the bedside of their delirious country, who, for\ntheir love to that dear and venerable name, bear all the disgusts and\nall the buffets they receive from their frantic mother. Sir, I do look\non you as true martyrs; I regard you as soldiers who act far more in the\nspirit of our Commander-in-Chief and the Captain of our salvation,\nthan those who have left you; though I must first bolt myself very\nthoroughly, and know that I could do better, before I can censure them.\nI assure you, sir, that, when I consider your unconquerable fidelity\nto your sovereign, and to your country; the courage, fortitude,\nmagnanimity, and long-suffering of yourself, and the Abbe Maury, and of\nMr. Cazales, and of many worthy persons of all orders in your Assembly,\nI forget, in the lustre of these great qualities, that on your side has\nbeen displayed an eloquence so rational, manly, and convincing, that no\ntime or country, perhaps, has ever excelled. But your talents disappear\nin my admiration of your virtues.\n\n\n\n\nKINGDOM OF FRANCE.\n\nWhen I consider the face of the kingdom of France; the multitude\nand opulence of her cities; the useful magnificence of her spacious\nhigh-roads and bridges; the opportunity of her artificial canals and\nnavigations, opening the conveniences of maritime communication through\na solid continent of so immense an extent; when I turn my eyes to the\nstupendous works of her ports and harbours, and to her whole naval\napparatus, whether for war or trade; when I bring before my view the\nnumber of her fortifications, constructed with so bold and masterly a\nskill, and made and maintained at so prodigious a charge, presenting\nan armed front and impenetrable barrier to her enemies upon every side;\nwhen I recollect how very small a part of that extensive region is\nwithout cultivation, and to what complete perfection the culture of many\nof the best productions of the earth have been brought in France; when\nI reflect on the excellence of her manufactures and fabrics, second to\nnone but ours, and in some particulars not second; when I contemplate\nthe grand foundations of charity, public and private; when I survey the\nstate of all the arts that beautify and polish life; when I reckon the\nmen she has bred for extending her fame in war, her able statesmen, the\nmultitude of her profound lawyers and theologians, her philosophers,\nher critics, her historians and antiquaries, her poets and her orators,\nsacred and profane; I behold in all this something which awes and\ncommands the imagination, which checks the mind on the brink of\nprecipitate and indiscriminate censure, and which demands that we should\nvery seriously examine, what and how great are the latent vices that\ncould authorize us at once to level so specious a fabric with the\nground. I do not recognise in this view of things, the despotism of\nTurkey. Nor do I discern the character of a government that has been,\non the whole, so oppressive, or so corrupt, or so negligent, as to be\nutterly UNFIT FOR ALL REFORMATION. I must think such a government well\ndeserved to have its excellences heightened, its faults corrected, and\nits capacities improved into a British constitution.\n\n\n\n\nGRIEVANCE AND OPINION.\n\nThis shows, in my opinion, how very quick and awakened all men ought to\nbe who are looked up to by the public, and who deserve that confidence,\nto prevent a surprise on their opinions, when dogmas are spread, and\nprojects pursued, by which the foundations of society may be affected.\nBefore they listen even to moderate alterations in the government\nof their country, they ought to take care that principles are not\npropagated for that purpose, which are too big for their object.\nDoctrines limited in their present application, and wide in their\ngeneral principles, are never meant to be confined to what they at first\npretend. If I were to form a prognostic of the effect of the present\nmachinations on the people, from their sense of any grievance they\nsuffer under this constitution, my mind would be at ease. But there is\na wide difference between the multitude, when they act against their\ngovernment from a sense of grievance, or from zeal for some opinions.\nWhen men are thoroughly possessed with that zeal, it is difficult to\ncalculate its force. It is certain that its power is by no means\nin exact proportion to its reasonableness. It must always have been\ndiscoverable by persons of reflection, but it is now obvious to the\nworld, that a theory concerning government may become as much a cause of\nfanaticism as a dogma in religion. There is a boundary to men's passions\nwhen they act from feeling; none when they are under the influence of\nimagination. Remove a grievance, and, when men act from feeling, you go\na great way towards quieting a commotion. But the good or bad conduct\nof a government, the protection men have enjoyed, or the oppression\nthey have suffered, under it, are of no sort of moment when a faction,\nproceeding upon speculative grounds, is thoroughly heated against\nits form. When a man is, from system, furious against monarchy or\nepiscopacy, the good conduct of the monarch or the bishop has no other\neffect than further to irritate the adversary. He is provoked at it, as\nfurnishing a plea for preserving the thing which he wishes to destroy.\nHis mind will be heated as much by the sight of a sceptre, a mace, or a\nverge, as if he had been daily bruised and wounded by these symbols of\nauthority. Mere spectacles, mere names, will become sufficient causes to\nstimulate the people to war and tumult.\n\n\n\n\nPERPLEXITY AND POLICY.\n\nLet us not deceive ourselves: we are at the beginning of great troubles.\nI readily acknowledge that the state of public affairs is infinitely\nmore unpromising than at the period I have just now alluded to; and the\nposition of all the powers of Europe, in relation to us, and in relation\nto each other, is more intricate and critical beyond all comparison.\nDifficult indeed is our situation. In all situations of difficulty men\nwill be influenced in the part they take, not only by the reason of the\ncase, but by the peculiar turn of their own character. The same ways\nto safety do not present themselves to all men, nor to the same men in\ndifferent tempers. There is a courageous wisdom; there is also a\nfalse, reptile prudence, the result not of caution, but of fear. Under\nmisfortunes it often happens that the nerves of the understanding are so\nrelaxed, the pressing peril of the hour so completely confounds all the\nfaculties, that no future danger can be properly provided for, can be\njustly estimated, can be so much as fully seen. The eye of the mind is\ndazzled and vanquished. An abject distrust of ourselves, an extravagant\nadmiration of the enemy, present us with no hope but in a compromise\nwith his pride, by a submission to his will. This short plan of policy\nis the only counsel which will obtain a hearing. We plunge into a dark\ngulf with all the rash precipitation of fear. The nature of courage is,\nwithout a question, to be conversant with danger: but in the palpable\nnight of their terrors, men under consternation suppose, not that it is\nthe danger, which, by a sure instinct, calls out the courage to resist\nit, but that it is the courage which produces the danger. They therefore\nseek for a refuge from their fears in the fears themselves, and consider\na temporizing meanness as the only source of safety.\n\nThe rules and definitions of prudence can rarely be exact; never\nuniversal. I do not deny, that, in small, truckling states, a timely\ncompromise with power has often been the means, and the only means, of\ndrawling out their puny existence: but a great state is too much envied,\ntoo much dreaded, to find safety in humiliation. To be secure, it must\nbe respected. Power, and eminence, and consideration, are things not\nto be begged. They must be commanded: and they who supplicate for mercy\nfrom others, can never hope for justice through themselves. What justice\nthey are to obtain, as the alms of an enemy, depends upon his character;\nand that they ought well to know before they implicitly confide.\n\n\n\n\nHISTORICAL INSTRUCTION.\n\nSuch is the effect of the perversion of history, by those, who, for the\nsame nefarious purposes, have perverted every other part of learning.\nBut those who will stand upon that elevation of reason, which places\ncenturies under our eye, and brings things to the true point of\ncomparison, which obscures little names, and effaces the colours of\nlittle parties, and to which nothing can ascend but the spirit and\nmoral quality of human actions, will say to the teachers of the Palais\nRoyal,--the cardinal of Lorraine was the murderer of the sixteenth\ncentury, you have the glory of being the murderers in the eighteenth;\nand this is the only difference between you. But history, in the\nnineteenth century, better understood, and better employed, will, I\ntrust, teach a civilized posterity to abhor the misdeeds of both these\nbarbarous ages. It will teach future priests and magistrates not to\nretaliate upon the speculative and inactive atheists of future times,\nthe enormities committed by the present practical zealots and furious\nfanatics of that wretched error, which, in its quiescent state, is more\nthan punished, whenever it is embraced. It will teach posterity not to\nmake war upon either religion or philosophy, for the abuse which\nthe hypocrites of both have made of the two most valuable blessings\nconferred upon us by the bounty of the universal Patron, who in all\nthings eminently favours and protects the race of man.\n\n\n\n\nMONTESQUIEU.\n\nPlace, for instance, before your eyes, such a man as Montesquieu. Think\nof a genius not born in every country, or every time; a man gifted by\nnature with a penetrating, aquiline eye; with a judgment prepared with\nthe most extensive erudition; with an herculean robustness of mind, and\nnerves not to be broken with labour; a man who could spend twenty years\nin one pursuit. Think of a man, like the universal patriarch in Milton\n(who had drawn up before him in his prophetic vision the whole series\nof the generations which were to issue from his loins), a man capable\nof placing in review, after having brought together from the east,\nthe west, the north, and the south, from the coarseness of the rudest\nbarbarism to the most refined and subtle civilization, all the schemes\nof government which had ever prevailed amongst mankind, weighing,\nmeasuring, collating, and comparing them all, joining fact with theory,\nand calling into council, upon all this infinite assemblage of things,\nall the speculations which have fatigued the understandings of profound\nreasoners in all times! Let us then consider, that all these were but so\nmany preparatory steps to qualify a man, and such a man, tinctured with\nno national prejudice, with no domestic affection, to admire, and to\nhold out to the admiration of mankind, the constitution of England! And\nshall we Englishmen revoke to such a suit? Shall we, when so much more\nthan he has produced remains still to be understood and admired, instead\nof keeping ourselves in the schools of real science, choose for our\nteachers men incapable of being taught, whose only claim to know is,\nthat they have never doubted; from whom we can learn nothing but their\nown indocility; who would teach us to scorn what in the silence of our\nhearts we ought to adore?\n\n\n\n\nARTICLES, AND SCRIPTURE.\n\nIf you will have religion publicly practised and publicly taught, you\nmust have a power to say what that religion will be, which you\nwill protect and encourage; and to distinguish it by such marks and\ncharacteristics, as you in your wisdom shall think fit. As I said\nbefore, your determination may be unwise in this as in other matters;\nbut it cannot be unjust, hard, or oppressive, or contrary to the liberty\nof any man, or in the least degree exceeding your province.\n\nIt is therefore as a grievance fairly none at all, nothing but what\nis essential not only to the order, but to the liberty of the whole\ncommunity. The petitioners are so sensible of the force of these\narguments, that they do admit of one subscription, that is, to the\nScripture. I shall not consider how forcibly this argument militates\nwith their whole principle against subscription as an usurpation on\nthe rights of Providence: I content myself with submitting to the\nconsideration of the house, that, if that rule were once established,\nit must have some authority to enforce the obedience; because you well\nknow, a law without a sanction will be ridiculous. Somebody must sit in\njudgment on his conformity; he must judge on the charge; if he judges,\nhe must ordain execution. These things are necessary consequences one of\nthe other; and then this judgment is an equal and a superior violation\nof private judgment; the right of private judgment is violated in a much\ngreater degree than it can be by any previous subscription. You come\nround again to subscription, as the best and easiest method; men must\njudge of his doctrine, and judge definitively; so that either his\ntest is nugatory, or men must first or last prescribe his public\ninterpretation of it.\n\n\n\n\nPROBLEM OF LEGISLATION.\n\nIt is one of the finest problems in legislation, and what has often\nengaged my thoughts whilst I followed that profession, \"What the state\nought to take upon itself to direct by the public wisdom, and what it\nought to leave, with as little interference as possible, to individual\ndiscretion.\" Nothing, certainly, can be laid down on the subject that\nwill not admit of exceptions, many permanent, some occasional. But the\nclearest line of distinction which I could draw, whilst I had my chalk\nto draw any line, was this; that the state ought to confine itself to\nwhat regards the state, or the creatures of the state;--namely, the\nexterior establishment of its religion; its magistracy; its revenue;\nits military force by sea and land; the corporations that owe their\nexistence to its fiat; in a word, to everything that is TRULY AND\nPROPERLY public; to the public peace, to the public safety, to the\npublic order, to the public prosperity. In its preventive police it\nought to be sparing of its efforts, and to employ means, rather few,\nunfrequent, and strong, than many and frequent, and, of course, as\nthey multiply their puny politic race, and dwindle, small and feeble.\nStatesmen who know themselves will, with the dignity which belongs to\nwisdom, proceed only in this the superior orb and first mover of their\nduty steadily, vigilantly, severely, courageously: whatever remains\nwill, in a manner, provide for itself. But as they descend from the\nstate to a province, from a province to a parish, and from a parish to a\nprivate house, they go on accelerated in their fall. They CANNOT do the\nlower duty; and, in proportion as they try it, they will certainly fail\nin the higher. They ought to know the different departments of things;\nwhat belongs to laws, and what manners alone can regulate. To these,\ngreat politicians may give a leaning, but they cannot give a law.\n\n\n\n\nORDER, LABOUR, AND PROPERTY.\n\nTo tell the people that they are relieved by the dilapidation of their\npublic estate, is a cruel and insolent imposition. Statesmen, before\nthey valued themselves on the relief given to the people by the\ndestruction of their revenue, ought first to have carefully attended to\nthe solution of this problem:--Whether it be more advantageous to the\npeople to pay considerably, and to gain in proportion; or to gain little\nor nothing, and to be disburthened of all contribution? My mind is made\nup to decide in favour of the first proposition. Experience is with me,\nand, I believe, the best opinions also. To keep a balance between the\npower of acquisition on the part of the subject, and the demands he is\nto answer on the part of the state, is the fundamental part of the skill\nof a true politician. The means of acquisition are prior in time and\nin arrangement. Good order is the foundation of all good things. To be\nenabled to acquire, the people, without being servile, must be tractable\nand obedient. The magistrate must have his reverence, the laws their\nauthority. The body of the people must not find the principles of\nnatural subordination by art rooted out of their minds. They must\nrespect that property of which they cannot partake. They must labour\nto obtain what by labour can be obtained; and when they find, as they\ncommonly do, the success disproportioned to the endeavour, they must be\ntaught their consolation in the final proportions of eternal justice.\nOf this consolation whoever deprives them, deadens their industry, and\nstrikes at the root of all acquisition as of all conservation. He that\ndoes this is the cruel oppressor, the merciless enemy of the poor and\nwretched; at the same time that by his wicked speculations he exposes\nthe fruits of successful industry, and the accumulations of fortune, to\nthe plunder of the negligent, the disappointed, and the unprosperous.\n\n\n\n\nREGICIDAL LEGISLATURE.\n\nThis strange law is not made for a trivial object, not for a single\nport, or for a single fortress, but for a great kingdom; for the\nreligion, the morals, the laws, the liberties, the lives and fortunes of\nmillions of human creatures, who without their consent, or that of\ntheir lawful government, are, by an arbitrary act of this regicide and\nhomicide government, which they call a law, incorporated into their\ntyranny.\n\nIn other words, their will is the law, not only at home, but as to\nthe concerns of every nation. Who has made that law but the regicide\nrepublic itself, whose laws, like those of the Medes and Persians, they\ncannot alter or abrogate, or even so much as take into consideration?\nWithout the least ceremony or compliment, they have sent out of the\nworld whole sets of laws and lawgivers. They have swept away the very\nconstitutions under which the legislators acted, and the laws were made.\nEven the fundamental sacred rights of man they have not scrupled to\nprofane. They have set this holy code at naught with ignominy and scorn.\nThus they treat all their domestic laws and constitutions, and even what\nthey had considered as a law of nature; but whatever they have put\ntheir seal on for the purposes of their ambition, and the ruin of their\nneighbours, this alone is invulnerable, impassible, immortal. Assuming\nto be masters of everything human and divine, here, and here alone, it\nseems they are limited, \"cooped and cabined in;\" and this omnipotent\nlegislature finds itself wholly without the power of exercising its\nfavourite attribute, the love of peace. In other words, they are\npowerful to usurp, impotent to restore; and equally by their power and\ntheir impotence they aggrandize themselves, and weaken and impoverish\nyou and all other nations.\n\n\n\n\nGOVERNMENT NOT TO BE RASHLY CENSURED.\n\nThe PURPOSE for which the abuses of government are brought into view,\nforms a very material consideration in the mode of treating them. The\ncomplaints of a friend are things very different from the invectives of\nan enemy. The charge of abuses on the late monarchy of France was not\nintended to lead to its reformation, but to justify its destruction.\nThey, who have raked into all history for the faults of kings, and who\nhave aggravated every fault they have found, have acted consistently;\nbecause they acted as enemies. No man can be a friend to a tempered\nmonarchy who bears a decided hatred to monarchy itself. He, who at the\npresent time, is favourable, or even fair, to that system, must\nact towards it as towards a friend with frailties, who is under the\nprosecution of implacable foes. I think it a duty, in that case, not to\ninflame the public mind against the obnoxious person by any exaggeration\nof his faults. It is our duty rather to palliate his errors and defects,\nor to cast them into the shade, and industriously to bring forward any\ngood qualities that he may happen to possess. But when the man is to be\namended, and by amendment to be preserved, then the line of duty takes\nanother direction. When his safety is effectually provided for, it then\nbecomes the office of a friend to urge his faults and vices with all\nthe energy of enlightened affection, to paint them in their most vivid\ncolours, and to bring the moral patient to a better habit. Thus I think\nwith regard to individuals; thus I think with regard to ancient and\nrespected governments and orders of men. A spirit of reformation is\nnever more consistent with itself than when it refuses to be rendered\nthe means of destruction.\n\n\n\n\nETIQUETTE.\n\nEtiquette, if I understand rightly the term, which in any extent is\nof modern usage, had its original application to those ceremonial and\nformal observances practised at courts, which had been established\nby long usage, in order to preserve the sovereign power from the rude\nintrusion of licentious familiarity, as well as to preserve majesty\nitself from a disposition to consult its ease at the expense of its\ndignity. The term came afterwards to have a greater latitude, and to\nbe employed to signify certain formal methods used in the transactions\nbetween sovereign states.\n\nIn the more limited, as well as in the larger sense of the term, without\nknowing what the etiquette is, it is impossible to determine whether\nit is a vain and captious punctilio, or a form necessary to preserve\ndecorum in character and order in business. I readily admit, that\nnothing tends to facilitate the issue of all public transactions more\nthan a mutual disposition in the parties treating to waive all ceremony.\nBut the use of this temporary suspension of the recognised modes of\nrespect consists in its being mutual, and in the spirit of conciliation,\nin which all ceremony is laid aside. On the contrary, when one of\nthe parties to a treaty intrenches himself up to the chin in these\nceremonies, and will not on his side abate a single punctilio, and that\nall the concessions are upon one side only, the party so conceding does\nby this act place himself in a relation of inferiority, and thereby\nfundamentally subverts that equality which is of the very essence of all\ntreaty.\n\n\n\n\nANCIENT ESTABLISHMENTS.\n\nOld establishments are tried by their effects. If the people are happy,\nunited, wealthy, and powerful, we presume the rest. We conclude that\nto be good, from whence good is derived. In old establishments, various\ncorrectives have been found for their aberrations from theory. Indeed,\nthey are the results of various necessities and expediencies. They are\nnot often constructed after any theory; theories are rather drawn from\nthem. In them we often see the end best obtained, where the means seem\nnot perfectly reconcilable to what we may fancy was the original scheme.\nThe means taught by experience may be better suited to political ends\nthan those contrived in the original project. They again re-act upon the\nprimitive constitution; and sometimes improve the design itself, from\nwhich they seem to have departed. I think all this might be curiously\nexemplified in the British constitution. At worst, the errors and\ndeviations of every kind in reckoning are found and computed, and the\nship proceeds in her course. This is the case of old establishments;\nbut in a new and merely theoretic system, it is expected that every\ncontrivance shall appear, on the face of it, to answer its ends;\nespecially where the projectors are no way embarrassed with an endeavour\nto accommodate the new building to an old one, either in the walls or on\nthe foundations.\n\n\n\n\nSENTIMENT AND POLICY.\n\nNever was there a jar or discord between genuine sentiment and sound\npolicy. Never, no never, did Nature say one thing and Wisdom say\nanother. Nor are sentiments of elevation in themselves turgid and\nunnatural. Nature is never more truly herself than in her grandest form.\nThe Apollo of Belvedere (if the universal robber has yet left him\nat Belvedere) is as much in nature as any figure from the pencil of\nRembrandt, or any clown in the rustic revels of Teniers. Indeed, it\nis when a great nation is in great difficulties that minds must exalt\nthemselves to the occasion, or all is lost. Strong passion, under the\ndirection of a feeble reason, feeds a low fever, which serves only\nto destroy the body that entertains it. But vehement passion does not\nalways indicate an infirm judgment. It often accompanies, and actuates,\nand is even auxiliary to a powerful understanding; and when they both\nconspire and act harmoniously, their force is great to destroy disorder\nwithin, and to repel injury from abroad. If ever there was a time that\ncalls on us for no vulgar conception of things, and for exertions in no\nvulgar strain, it is the awful hour that Providence has now appointed\nto this nation. Every little measure is a great error; and every great\nerror will bring on no small ruin. Nothing can be directed above the\nmark that we must aim at: everything below it is absolutely thrown away.\n\n\n\n\nPATRIOTISM.\n\nI have little to recommend my opinions but long observation and much\nimpartiality. They come from one who has been no tool of power, no\nflatterer of greatness; and who in his last acts does not wish to belie\nthe tenor of his life. They come from one, almost the whole of whose\npublic exertions has been a struggle for the liberty of others; from one\nin whose breast no anger durable or vehement has ever been kindled, but\nby what he considered as tyranny; and who snatches from his share in the\nendeavours which are used by good men to discredit opulent oppression,\nthe hours he has employed on your affairs; and who in so doing persuades\nhimself he has not departed from his usual office: they come from one\nwho desires honours, distinctions, and emoluments, but little, and who\nexpects them not at all; who has no contempt for fame, and no fear of\nobloquy; who shuns contention, though he will hazard an opinion; who\nwould preserve consistency by varying his means to secure the unity of\nhis end; and, when the equipoise of the vessel in which he sails may be\nendangered by overloading it upon one side, is desirous of carrying the\nsmall weight of his reasons to that which may preserve its equipoise.\n\n\n\n\nNECESSITY, A RELATIVE TERM.\n\nThe only excuse to be made for all our mendicant diplomacy is the\nsame as in the case of all other mendicancy;--namely, that it has been\nfounded on absolute necessity. This deserves consideration. Necessity,\nas it has no law, so it has no shame: but moral necessity is not like\nmetaphysical, or even physical. In that category it is a word of loose\nsignification, and conveys different ideas to different minds. To the\nlow-minded, the slightest necessity becomes an invincible necessity.\n\"The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way, and I shall be\ndevoured in the streets.\" But when the necessity pleaded is not in the\nnature of things, but in the vices of him who alleges it, the whining\ntones of commonplace beggarly rhetoric produce nothing but indignation;\nbecause they indicate a desire of keeping up a dishonourable existence,\nwithout utility to others, and without dignity to itself; because they\naim at obtaining the dues of labour without industry; and by frauds\nwould draw from the compassion of others what men ought to owe to their\nown spirit and their own exertions.\n\n\n\n\nKING JOHN AND THE POPE.\n\nHe began with exacting an oath from the king, by which, without showing\nthe extent of his design, he engaged him to everything he could ask.\nJohn swore to submit to the legate in all things relating to his\nexcommunication. And first he was obliged to accept Langton as\narchbishop; then to restore the monks of Canterbury, and other deprived\necclesiastics, and to make them a full indemnification for all their\nlosses. And now, by these concessions, all things seemed to be perfectly\nsettled. The cause of the quarrel was entirely removed. But when the\nking expected for so perfect a submission a full absolution, the\nlegate began a laboured harangue on his rebellion, his tyranny, and\nthe innumerable sins he had committed; and in conclusion declared, that\nthere was no way left to appease God and the Church but to resign his\ncrown to the Holy See, from whose hands he should receive it purified\nfrom all pollutions, and hold it for the future by homage, and an annual\ntribute. John was struck motionless at a demand so extravagant and\nunexpected. He knew not on which side to turn. If he cast his eyes\ntoward the coast of France, he there saw his enemy Philip, who\nconsidered him as a criminal as well as an enemy, and who aimed not only\nat his crown but his life, at the head of an innumerable multitude of\nfierce people, ready to rush in upon him. If he looked at his own army,\nhe saw nothing there but coldness, disaffection, uncertainty, distrust,\nand a strength, in which he knew not whether he ought most to confide or\nfear. On the other hand, the papal thunders, from the wounds of which\nhe was still sore, were leveled full at his head. He could not look\nsteadily at these complicated difficulties; and truly it is hard to say\nwhat choice he had, if any choice were left to kings in what concerns\nthe independence of their crown. Surrounded, therefore, with these\ndifficulties; and that all his late humiliations might not be rendered\nas ineffectual as they were ignominious, he took the last step; and,\nin the presence of a numerous assembly of his peers and prelates, who\nturned their eyes from this mortifying sight, formally resigned his\ncrown to the pope's legate; to whom at the same time he did homage,\nand paid the first fruits of his tribute. Nothing could be added to the\nhumiliation of the king upon this occasion, but the insolence of the\nlegate, who spurned the treasure with his foot, and let the crown remain\na long time on the ground before he restored it to the degraded owner.\n\nIn this proceeding the motives of the king may be easily discovered;\nbut how the barons of the kingdom, who were deeply concerned, suffered,\nwithout any protestation, the independency of the crown to be thus\nforfeited, is mentioned by no historian of that time. In civil tumults\nit is astonishing how little regard is paid by all parties to the honour\nor safety of their country. The king's friends were probably induced to\nacquiesce by the same motives that had influenced the king. His enemies,\nwho were the most numerous, perhaps saw his abasement with pleasure, as\nthey knew this action might be one day employed against him with effect.\nTo the bigots it was enough, that it aggrandized the pope. It is,\nperhaps, worthy of observation, that the conduct of Pandulph towards\nKing John bore a very great affinity to that of the Roman consuls to the\npeople of Carthage in the last Punic war; drawing them from concession\nto concession, and carefully concealing their design, until they made\nit impossible for the Carthaginians to resist. Such a strong resemblance\ndid the same ambition produce in such distant times; and it is far from\nthe sole instance, in which we may trace a similarity between the spirit\nand conduct of the former and latter Rome in their common design on the\nliberties of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nCONSUMPTION AND PRODUCE.\n\nThe balance between consumption and production makes price. The market\nsettles, and alone can settle, that price. Market is the meeting and\nconference of the CONSUMER and PRODUCER, when they mutually discover\neach other's wants. Nobody, I believe, has observed with any reflection\nwhat market is, without being astonished at the truth, the correctness,\nthe celerity, the general equity, with which the balance of wants is\nsettled. They, who wish the destruction of that balance, and would fain\nby arbitrary regulation decree, that defective production should not be\ncompensated by increased price, directly lay their AXE to the root of\nproduction itself.\n\n\n\n\n\"PRIESTS OF THE RIGHTS OF MAN.\"\n\nHis Grace, like an able orator, as he is, begins with giving me a great\ndeal of praise for talents which I do not possess. He does this\nto entitle himself, on the credit of this gratuitous kindness, to\nexaggerate my abuse of the parts which his bounty, and not that of\nnature, has bestowed upon me. In this, too, he has condescended to copy\nMr. Erskine. These priests (I hope they will excuse me; I mean priests\nof the rights of man) begin by crowning me with their flowers and their\nfillets, and bedewing me with their odours, as a preface to the knocking\nme on the head with their consecrated axes. I have injured, say they,\nthe constitution; and I have abandoned the Whig party and the Whig\nprinciples that I professed. I do not mean, my dear sir, to defend\nmyself against his Grace. I have not much interest in what the world\nshall think or say of me; as little has the world an interest in what\nI shall think or say of any one in it; and I wish that his Grace\nhad suffered an unhappy man to enjoy, in his retreat, the melancholy\nprivileges of obscurity and sorrow. At any rate, I have spoken, and I\nhave written, on the subject. If I have written or spoken so poorly\nas to be quite forgot, a fresh apology will not make a more lasting\nimpression. \"I must let the tree lie as it falls.\" Perhaps I must take\nsome shame to myself. I confess that I have acted on my own principles\nof government, and not on those of his Grace, which are, I dare say,\nprofound and wise; but which I do not pretend to understand. As to the\nparty to which he alludes, and which has long taken its leave of me,\nI believe the principles of the book which he condemns are very\nconformable to the opinions of many of the most considerable and most\ngrave in that description of politicians. A few indeed, who, I admit,\nare equally respectable in all points, differ from me, and talk his\nGrace's language. I am too feeble to contend with them. They have the\nfield to themselves. There are others, very young and very ingenious\npersons, who form, probably, the largest part of what his Grace, I\nbelieve, is pleased to consider as that party. Some of them were not\nborn into the world, and all of them were children, when I entered into\nthat connection. I give due credit to the censorial brow, to the broad\nphylacteries, and to the imposing gravity, of those magisterial rabbins\nand doctors in the cabala of political science. I admit that \"wisdom is\nas the gray hair to man, and that learning is like honourable old age.\"\nBut, at a time when liberty is a good deal talked of, perhaps I might be\nexcused, if I caught something of the general indocility. It might not\nbe surprising, if I lengthened my chain a link or two, and in an age\nof relaxed discipline, gave a trifling indulgence to my own notions.\nIf that could be allowed, perhaps I might sometimes (by accident, and\nwithout an unpardonable crime) trust as much to my own very careful, and\nvery laborious, though, perhaps, somewhat purblind disquisitions, as to\ntheir soaring, intuitive, eagle-eyed authority. But the modern liberty\nis a precious thing. It must not be profaned by too vulgar an use.\nIt belongs only to the chosen few, who are born to the hereditary\nrepresentation of the whole democracy, and who leave nothing at all, no,\nnot the offal, to us poor outcasts of the plebeian race.\n\n\n\n\n\"HIS GRACE.\"\n\nAmongst those gentlemen who came to authority, as soon, or sooner than\nthey came of age, I do not mean to include his Grace. With all those\nnative titles to empire over our minds which distinguish the others, he\nhas a large share of experience. He certainly ought to understand\nthe British constitution better than I do. He has studied it in the\nfundamental part. For one election I have seen, he has been concerned\nin twenty. Nobody is less of a visionary theorist; nobody has drawn his\nspeculations more from practice. No peer has condescended to superintend\nwith more vigilance the declining franchises of the poor commons. \"With\nthrice great Hermes he has outwatched the bear.\" Often have his candles\nbeen burned to the snuff, and glimmered and stunk in the sockets, whilst\nhe grew pale at his constitutional studies; long sleepless nights has he\nwasted; long, laborious, shiftless journeys has he made, and great sums\nhas he expended in order to secure the purity, the independence, and the\nsobriety of elections, and to give a check, if possible, to the ruinous\ncharges that go nearly to the destruction of the right of election\nitself. Amidst these his labours, his Grace will be pleased to forgive\nme, if my zeal, less enlightened to be sure than his by midnight lamps\nand studies, has presumed to talk too favourably of this constitution,\nand even to say something sounding like approbation of that body which\nhas the honour to reckon his Grace at the head of it. Those, who dislike\nthis partiality, or, if his Grace pleases, this flattery of mine, have\na comfort at hand. I may be refuted and brought to shame by the most\nconvincing of all refutations--a practical refutation. Every individual\npeer for himself may show that I was ridiculously wrong: the whole\nbody of those noble persons may refute me for the whole corps. If they\nplease, they are more powerful advocates against themselves, than a\nthousand scribblers like me can be in their favour. If I were even\npossessed of those powers which his Grace, in order to heighten\nmy offence, is pleased to attribute to me, there would be little\ndifference. The eloquence of Mr. Erskine might save Mr.-- from the\ngallows, but no eloquence could save Mr. Jackson from the effects of his\nown potion.\n\n\n\n\nSPECULATION AND HISTORY.\n\nI shall not live to behold the unravelling of the intricate plot which\nsaddens and perplexes the awful drama of Providence now acting on the\nmoral theatre of the world. Whether for thought or for action, I am at\nthe end of my career. You are in the middle of yours. In what part of\nits orbit the nation, with which we are carried along, moves at this\ninstant, it is not easy to conjecture. It may, perhaps, be far advanced\nin its aphelion.--But when to return?\n\nNot to lose ourselves in the infinite void of the conjectural world, our\nbusiness is with what is likely to be affected, for the better or the\nworse, by the wisdom or weakness of our plans. In all speculations upon\nmen and human affairs, it is of no small moment to distinguish things of\naccident from permanent causes, and from effects that cannot be altered.\nIt is not every irregularity in our movement that is a total deviation\nfrom our course. I am not quite of the mind of those speculators who\nseem assured that, necessarily, and by the constitution of things, all\nstates have the same periods of infancy, manhood, and decrepitude that\nare found in the individuals who compose them. Parallels of this sort\nrather furnish similitudes to illustrate or to adorn, than supply\nanalogies from whence to reason. The objects which are attempted to be\nforced into an analogy are not found in the same classes of existence.\nIndividuals are physical beings subject to laws universal and\ninvariable. The immediate cause acting in these laws may be obscure; the\ngeneral results are subjects of certain calculation. But commonwealths\nare not physical but moral essences. They are artificial combinations,\nand, in their proximate efficient cause, the arbitrary productions\nof the human mind. We are not yet acquainted with the laws which\nnecessarily influence the stability of that kind of work made by that\nkind of agent. There is not in the physical order (with which they do\nnot appear to hold any assignable connection) a distinct cause by which\nany of those fabrics must necessarily grow, flourish, or decay; nor, in\nmy opinion, does the moral world produce anything more determinate on\nthat subject than what may serve as an amusement (liberal, indeed, and\ningenious, but still only an amusement) for speculative men. I doubt\nwhether the history of mankind is yet complete enough, if ever it can\nbe so, to furnish grounds for a sure theory on the internal causes which\nnecessarily affect the fortune of a state. I am far from denying the\noperation of such causes: but they are infinitely uncertain and much\nmore obscure, and much more difficult to trace, than the foreign causes\nthat tend to raise, to depress, and sometimes to overwhelm, a community.\nIt is often impossible in these political inquiries to find any\nproportion between the apparent force of any moral causes we may assign\nand their known operation. We are therefore obliged to deliver up that\noperation to mere chance, or, more piously (perhaps, more rationally),\nto the occasional interposition and irresistible hand of the Great\nDisposer. We have seen states of considerable duration, which for ages\nhave remained nearly as they have begun, and could hardly be said to ebb\nor flow. Some appear to have spent their vigour at their commencement.\nSome have blazed out in their glory a little before their extinction.\nThe meridian of some has been the most splendid. Others, and they the\ngreatest number, have fluctuated, and experienced at different periods\nof their existence a great variety of fortune. At the very moment when\nsome of them seemed plunged in unfathomable abysses of disgrace and\ndisaster, they have suddenly emerged. They have begun a new course and\nopened a new reckoning; and, even in the depths of their calamity,\nand on the very ruins of their country, have laid the foundations of\na towering and durable greatness. All this has happened without any\napparent previous change in the general circumstances which had brought\non their distress. The death of a man at a critical juncture, his\ndisgust, his retreat, his disgrace, have brought innumerable calamities\non a whole nation. A common soldier, a child, a girl at the door of an\ninn, have changed the face of fortune, and almost of nature.\n\nSuch, and often influenced by such causes, has commonly been the fate of\nmonarchies of long duration. They have their ebbs and their flows. This\nhas been eminently the fate of the monarchy of France. There have been\ntimes in which no power has ever been brought so low. Few have ever\nflourished in greater glory. By turns elevated and depressed, that power\nhad been, on the whole, rather on the increase; and it continued not\nonly powerful but formidable to the hour of the total ruin of the\nmonarchy. This fall of the monarchy was far from being preceded by any\nexterior symptoms of decline. The interior were not visible to every\neye; and a thousand accidents might have prevented the operation of what\nthe most clear-sighted were not able to discern, nor the most provident\nto divine. A very little time before its dreadful catastrophe there\nwas a kind of exterior splendour in the situation of the Crown, which\nusually adds to government strength and authority at home. The Crown\nseemed then to have obtained some of the most splendid objects of state\nambition. None of the continental powers of Europe were the enemies\nof France. They were all either tacitly disposed to her, or publicly\nconnected with her; and in those who kept the most aloof there was\nlittle appearance of jealousy; of animosity there was no appearance\nat all. The British nation, her great preponderating rival; she had\nhumbled; to all appearance she had weakened; certainly had endangered,\nby cutting off a very large, and by far the most growing part of her\nempire. In that its acme of human prosperity and greatness, in the high\nand palmy state of the monarchy of France, it fell to the ground without\na struggle. It fell without any of those vices in the monarch which have\nsometimes been the causes of the fall of kingdoms, but which existed,\nwithout any visible effect on the state, in the highest degree in many\nother princes; and, far from destroying their power, had only left some\nslight stains on their character. The financial difficulties were only\npretexts and instruments of those who accomplished the ruin of that\nmonarchy. They were not the causes of it.\n\nDeprived of the old government, deprived in a manner of all government,\nFrance, fallen as a monarchy, to common speculators might have appeared\nmore likely to be an object of pity or insult, according to the\ndisposition of the circumjacent powers, than to be the scourge and\nterror of them all: but out of the tomb of the murdered monarchy in\nFrance has arisen a vast, tremendous unformed spectre, in a far more\nterrific guise than any which ever yet have overpowered the imagination\nand subdued the fortitude of man. Going straight forward to its end,\nunappalled by peril, unchecked by remorse, despising all common maxims\nand all common means, that hideous phantom overpowered those who could\nnot believe it was possible she could at all exist, except on the\nprinciples which habit rather than nature had persuaded them were\nnecessary to their own particular welfare, and to their own ordinary\nmodes of action. But the constitution of any political being, as well as\nthat of any physical being, ought to be known, before one can venture to\nsay what is fit for its conservation, or what is the proper means of its\npower. The poison of other states is the food of the new republic. That\nbankruptcy, the very apprehension of which is one of the causes assigned\nfor the fall of the monarchy, was the capital on which she opened her\ntraffic with the world.\n\n\n\n\nLABOUR AND WAGES.\n\nIn the case of the farmer and the labourer, their interests are always\nthe same, and it is absolutely impossible that their free contracts can\nbe onerous to either party. It is the interest of the farmer, that his\nwork should be done with effect and celerity: and that cannot be, unless\nthe labourer is well fed, and otherwise found with such necessaries of\nanimal life, according to his habitudes, as may keep the body in full\nforce, and the mind gay and cheerful. For of all the instruments of\nhis trade, the labour of man (what the ancient writers have called\nthe instrumentum vocale) is that on which he is most to rely for the\nrepayment of his capital. The other two, the semivocale in the\nancient classification, that is, the working stock of cattle, and the\ninstrumentum mutum, such as carts, ploughs, spades, and so forth, though\nnot all inconsiderable in themselves, are very much inferior in utility\nor in expense; or, without a given portion of the first, are nothing at\nall. For, in all things whatever, the mind is the most valuable and\nthe most important; and in this scale the whole of agriculture is in a\nnatural and just order; the beast is as an informing principle to the\nplough and cart; the labourer is as reason to the beast; and the farmer\nis as a thinking and presiding principle to the labourer. An attempt to\nbreak this chain of subordination in any part is equally absurd; but the\nabsurdity is the most mischievous in practical operation, where it is\nthe most easy, that is, where it is the most subject to an erroneous\njudgment.\n\nIt is plainly more the farmer's interest that his men should thrive,\nthan that his horses should be well fed, sleek, plump, and fit for use,\nor than that his waggons and ploughs should be strong, in good repair,\nand fit for service.\n\nOn the other hand, if the farmer cease to profit of the labourer,\nand that his capital is not continually manured and fructified, it\nis impossible that he should continue that abundant nutriment, and\nclothing, and lodging, proper for the protection of the instruments he\nemploys.\n\nIt is therefore the first and fundamental interest of the labourer,\nthat the farmer should have a full incoming profit on the product of his\nlabour. The proposition is self-evident, and nothing but the malignity,\nperverseness, and ill-governed passions of mankind, and particularly the\nenvy they bear to each other's prosperity, could prevent their seeing\nand acknowledging it, with thankfulness to the benign and wise Disposer\nof all things, who obliges men, whether they will or not, in pursuing\ntheir own selfish interests, to connect the general good with their own\nindividual success.\n\nBut who are to judge what that profit and advantage ought to be?\nCertainly no authority on earth. It is a matter of convention dictated\nby the reciprocal conveniences of the parties, and indeed by\ntheir reciprocal necessities.--But, if the farmer is excessively\navaricious?--why so much the better--the more he desires to increase\nhis gains, the more interested is he in the good condition of those upon\nwhose labour his gains must principally depend.\n\nI shall be told by the zealots of the sect of regulation, that this may\nbe true, and may be safely committed to the convention of the farmer and\nthe labourer, when the latter is in the prime of his youth, and at the\ntime of his health and vigour, and in ordinary times of abundance. But\nin calamitous seasons, under accidental illness, in declining life, and\nwith the pressure of a numerous offspring, the future nourishers of the\ncommunity, but the present drains and blood-suckers of those who produce\nthem, what is to be done? When a man cannot live and maintain his\nfamily by the natural hire of his labour, ought it not to be raised by\nauthority?\n\nOn this head I must be allowed to submit, what my opinions have ever\nbeen; and somewhat at large. And, first, I premise that labour is, as I\nhave already intimated, a commodity, and, as such, an article of trade.\nIf I am right in this notion, then labour must be subject to all the\nlaws and principles of trade, and not to regulation foreign to them, and\nthat may be totally inconsistent with those principles and those laws.\nWhen any commodity is carried to market, it is not the necessity of the\nvender, but the necessity of the purchaser, that raises the price. The\nextreme want of the seller has rather (by the nature of things with\nwhich we shall in vain contend) the direct contrary operation. If the\ngoods at market are beyond the demand, they fall in their value; if\nbelow it, they rise. The impossibility of the subsistence of a man, who\ncarries his labour to a market, is totally beside the question in his\nway of viewing it. The only question is, what is it worth to the buyer?\n\nBut if the authority comes in and forces the buyer to a price, who is\nthis in the case (say) of a farmer who buys the labour of ten or twelve\nlabouring men, and three or four handicrafts, what is it, but to make an\narbitrary division of his property among them?\n\nThe whole of his gains, I say it with the most certain conviction, never\ndo amount anything like in value to what he pays to his labourers and\nartificers, so that a very small advance upon what ONE man pays to\nMANY may absorb the whole of what he possesses, and amount to an actual\npartition of all his substance among them. A perfect equality will\nindeed be produced;--that is to say, equal want, equal wretchedness,\nequal beggary, and on the part of the petitioners, a woeful, helpless,\nand desperate disappointment. Such is the event of all compulsory\nequalizations. They pull down what is above. They never raise what is\nbelow: and they depress high and low together beneath the level of what\nwas originally the lowest.\n\nIf a commodity is raised by authority above what it will yield with\na profit to the buyer, that commodity will be the less dealt in. If a\nsecond blundering interposition be used to correct the blunder of the\nfirst, and an attempt is made to force the purchase of the commodity (of\nlabour for instance), the one of these two things must happen, either\nthat the forced buyer is ruined, or the price of the product of the\nlabour, in that proportion, is raised. Then the wheel turns round, and\nthe evil complained of falls with aggravated weight on the complainant.\nThe price of corn, which is the result of the expense of all the\noperations of husbandry taken together, and for some time continued,\nwill rise on the labourer, considered as a consumer. The very best will\nbe, that he remains where he was. But if the price of the corn should\nnot compensate the price of labour, what is far more to be feared, the\nmost serious evil, the very destruction of agriculture itself, is to be\napprehended.\n\nNothing is such an enemy to accuracy of judgment as a coarse\ndiscrimination: a want of such classification and distribution as the\nsubject admits of. Increase the rate of wages to the labourer, say the\nregulators--as if labour was but one thing, and of one value. But this\nvery broad, generic term, LABOUR, admits, at least, of two or three\nspecific descriptions: and these will suffice, at least, to let\ngentlemen discern a little the necessity of proceeding with caution\nin their coercive guidance of those whose existence depends upon the\nobservance of still nicer distinctions and subdivisions than commonly\nthey resort to in forming their judgments on this very enlarged part of\neconomy.\n\nThe labourers in husbandry may be divided: 1st, into those who are able\nto perform the full work of a man; that is, what can be done by a person\nfrom twenty-one years of age to fifty. I know no husbandry-work (mowing\nhardly excepted) that is not equally within the power of all persons\nwithin those ages, the more advanced fully compensating by knack and\nhabit what they lose in activity. Unquestionably, there is a good deal\nof difference between the value of one man's labour and that of another,\nfrom strength, dexterity, and honest application. But I am quite sure,\nfrom my best observation, that any given five men will, in their total,\nafford a proportion of labour equal to any other five within the periods\nof life I have stated; that is, that among such five men there will be\none possessing all the qualifications of a good workman, one bad, and\nthe other three middling, and approximating to the first and the last.\nSo that in so small a platoon as that of even five, you will find the\nfull complement of all that five men CAN earn. Taking five and five\nthroughout the kingdom, they are equal: therefore, an error with regard\nto the equalization of their wages by those who employ five, as farmers\ndo at the very least, cannot be considerable. 2ndly. Those who are able\nto work, but not the complete task of a day-labourer. This class is\ninfinitely diversified, but will aptly enough fall into principal\ndivisions. MEN, from the decline, which after fifty becomes every\nyear more sensible to the period of debility and decrepitude, and the\nmaladies that precede a final dissolution. WOMEN, whose employment on\nhusbandry is but occasional, and who differ more in effective labour\none from another, than men do, on account of gestation, nursing, and\ndomestic management, over and above the difference they have in common\nwith men in advancing, in stationary, and in declining life. CHILDREN,\nwho proceed on the reverse order, growing from less to greater utility,\nbut with a still greater disproportion of nutriment to labour than is\nfound in the second of these subdivisions: as is visible to those who\nwill give themselves the trouble of examining into the interior economy\nof a poor-house.\n\nThis inferior classification is introduced to show, that laws\nprescribing, or magistrates exercising, a very stiff and often\ninapplicable rule, or a blind and rash discretion, never can provide\nthe just proportions between earning and salary on the one hand,\nand nutriment on the other: whereas interest, habit, and the tacit\nconvention, that arise from a thousand nameless circumstances, produce a\nTACT that regulates without difficulty, what laws and magistrates cannot\nregulate at all. The first class of labour wants nothing to equalize\nit; it equalizes itself. The second and third are not capable of any\nequalization.\n\nBut what if the rate of hire to the labourer comes far short of his\nnecessary subsistence, and the calamity of the time is so great as to\nthreaten actual famine? Is the poor labourer to be abandoned to the\nflinty heart and griping hand of base self-interest, supported by the\nsword of law, especially when there is reason to suppose that the\nvery avarice of farmers themselves has concurred with the errors of\ngovernment to bring famine on the land?\n\n\n\n\nA COMPLETE REVOLUTION.\n\nBefore this of France, the annals of all time have not furnished\nan instance of a COMPLETE revolution. That Revolution seems to have\nextended even to the constitution of the mind of man. It has this\nof wonderful in it, that it resembles what Lord Verulam says of the\noperations of nature. It was perfect, not only in its elements and\nprinciples, but in all its members and its organs from the very\nbeginning. The moral scheme of France furnishes the only pattern ever\nknown, which they who admire will INSTANTLY resemble. It is indeed\nan inexhaustible repertory of one kind of examples. In my wretched\ncondition, though hardly to be classed with the living, I am not safe\nfrom them. They have tigers to fall upon animated strength. They have\nhyaenas to prey upon carcasses. The national menagerie is collected\nby the first physiologists of the time; and it is defective in no\ndescription of savage nature. They pursue even such as me, into the\nobscurest retreats, and haul them before their revolutionary tribunals.\nNeither sex, nor age,--nor the sanctuary of the tomb, is sacred to them.\nThey have so determined a hatred to all privileged orders, that they\ndeny even to the departed the sad immunities of the grave. They are not\nwholly without an object. Their turpitude purveys to their malice; and\nthey unplumb the dead for bullets to assassinate the living. If all\nrevolutionists were not proof against all caution, I should recommend\nit to their consideration, that no persons were ever known in history,\neither sacred or profane, to vex the sepulchre, and, by their sorceries,\nto call up the prophetic dead, with any other event, than the prediction\nof their own disastrous fate.--\"Leave me, oh leave me to repose!\"\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH GOVERNMENT IN INDIA.\n\nThe British government in India being a subordinate and delegated power,\nit ought to be considered as a fundamental principle in such a system,\nthat it is to be preserved in the strictest obedience to the government\nat home. Administration in India, at an immense distance from the seat\nof the supreme authority; intrusted with the most extensive powers;\nliable to the greatest temptations; possessing the amplest means of\nabuse; ruling over a people guarded by no distinct or well-ascertained\nprivileges, whose language, manners, and radical prejudices render\nnot only redress, but all complaint on their part, a matter of extreme\ndifficulty; such an administration, it is evident, never can be made\nsubservient to the interests of Great Britain, or even tolerable to\nthe natives, but by the strictest rigour in exacting obedience to the\ncommands of the authority lawfully set over it.\n\n\n\n\nMONEY AND SCIENCE.\n\nMy exertions, whatever they have been, were such as no hopes of\npecuniary reward could possibly excite; and no pecuniary compensation\ncan possibly reward them. Between money and such services, if done by\nabler men than I am, there is no common principle of comparison: they\nare quantities incommensurable. Money is made for the comfort and\nconvenience of animal life. It cannot be a reward for what mere animal\nlife must indeed sustain, but never can inspire. With submission to his\nGrace, I have not had more than sufficient. As to any noble use, I trust\nI know how to employ, as well as he, a much greater fortune than he\npossesses. In a more confined application, I certainly stand in need of\nevery kind of relief and easement much more than he does. When I say I\nhave not received more than I deserve, is this the language I hold to\nmajesty? No! Far, very far, from it! Before that presence, I claim no\nmerit at all. Everything towards me is favour, and bounty. One style to\na gracious benefactor; another to a proud and insulting foe.\n\nHis Grace is pleased to aggravate my guilt, by charging my acceptance of\nhis majesty's grant as a departure from my ideas, and the spirit of my\nconduct with regard to economy. If it be, my ideas of economy were false\nand ill-founded. But they are the Duke of Bedford's ideas of economy\nI have contradicted, and not my own. If he means to allude to certain\nbills brought in by me on a message from the throne in 1782, I tell\nhim, that there is nothing in my conduct that can contradict either the\nletter or the spirit of those acts. Does he mean the Pay-office Act?\nI take it for granted he does not. The act to which he alludes, is, I\nsuppose, the Establishment Act. I greatly doubt whether his Grace has\never read the one or the other. The first of these systems cost me, with\nevery assistance which my then situation gave me, pains incredible.\nI found an opinion common through all the offices, and general in the\npublic at large, that it would prove impossible to reform and methodize\nthe office of paymaster-general. I undertook it, however; and I\nsucceeded in my undertaking. Whether the military service, or whether\nthe general economy of our finances, have profited by that act, I leave\nto those who are acquainted with the army, and with the treasury, to\njudge.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICAL AXIOMS.\n\nI.\n\nOf all things, an indiscreet tampering with the trade of provisions is\nthe most dangerous, and it is always worst in the time when men are\nmost disposed to it: that is, in the time of scarcity. Because there is\nnothing on which the passions of men are so violent, and their judgment\nso weak, and on which there exists such a multitude of ill-founded\npopular prejudices.\n\nII.\n\nThe great use of government is as a restraint; and there is no restraint\nwhich it ought to put upon others, and upon itself too, rather than\nthat which is imposed on the fury of speculating under circumstances of\nirritation. The number of idle tales, spread about by the industry\nof faction, and by the zeal of foolish good-intention, and greedily\ndevoured by the malignant credulity of mankind, tends infinitely to\naggravate prejudices, which, in themselves, are more than sufficiently\nstrong. In that state of affairs, and of the public with relation\nto them, the first thing that government owes to us, the people,\nis INFORMATION; the next is timely coercion:--the one to guide our\njudgment; the other to regulate our tempers.\n\nIII.\n\nTo provide for us in our necessities is not in the power of government.\nIt would be a vain presumption in statesmen to think they can do it.\nThe people maintain them, and not they the people. It is in the power of\ngovernment to prevent much evil; it can do very little positive good in\nthis, or perhaps in anything else. It is not only so of the state and\nstatesmen, but of all the classes and descriptions of the rich--they\nare the pensioners of the poor, and are maintained by their superfluity.\nThey are under an absolute, hereditary, and indefeasible dependence on\nthose who labour, and are miscalled the poor.\n\nIV.\n\nThe labouring people are only poor, because they are numerous. Numbers\nin their nature imply poverty. In a fair distribution among a vast\nmultitude none can have much. That class of dependent pensioners called\nthe rich is so extremely small, that if all their throats were cut, and\na distribution made of all they consume in a year, it would not give a\nbit of bread and cheese for one night's supper to those who labour, and\nwho in reality feed both the pensioners and themselves.\n\nV.\n\nBut the throats of the rich ought not to be cut, nor their magazines\nplundered; because in their persons they are trustees for those who\nlabour, and their hoards are the banking-houses of these latter. Whether\nthey mean it or not, they do, in effect, execute their trust--some with\nmore, some with less, fidelity and judgment. But, on the whole, the\nduty is performed, and everything returns, deducting some very trifling\ncommission and discount, to the place from whence it arose. When the\npoor rise to destroy the rich, they act as wisely for their own purposes\nas when they burn mills, and throw corn into the river, to make bread\ncheap.\n\nVI.\n\nWhen I say, that we of the people ought to be informed, inclusively\nI say, we ought not to be flattered; flattery is the reverse of\ninstruction. The POOR in that case would be rendered as improvident as\nthe rich, which would not be at all good for them.\n\nVII.\n\nNothing can be so base and so wicked as the political canting language,\n\"The labouring POOR.\" Let compassion be shown in action, the more\nthe better, according to every man's ability; but let there be no\nlamentation of their condition. It is no relief to their miserable\ncircumstances; it is only an insult to their miserable understandings.\nIt arises from a total want of charity, or a total want of thought.\nWant of one kind was never relieved by want of any other kind. Patience,\nlabour, sobriety, frugality, and religion, should be recommended to\nthem; all the rest is downright FRAUD. It is horrible to call them \"The\nONCE HAPPY labourer.\"\n\nVIII.\n\nWhether what may be called the moral or philosophical happiness of the\nlaborious classes is increased or not, I cannot say. The seat of that\nspecies of happiness is in the mind; and there are few data to ascertain\nthe comparative state of the mind at any two periods. Philosophical\nhappiness is to want little. Civil or vulgar happiness is to want much,\nand to enjoy much. IX.\n\nIf the happiness of the animal man (which certainly goes somewhere\ntowards the happiness of the rational man) be the object of our\nestimate, then I assert without the least hesitation, that the\ncondition of those who labour (in all descriptions of labour, and in all\ngradations of labour, from the highest to the lowest inclusively) is on\nthe whole extremely meliorated, if more and better food is any standard\nof melioration. They work more, it is certain, but they have the\nadvantage of their augmented labour; yet whether that increase of labour\nbe on the whole a GOOD or an EVIL, is a consideration that would lead\nus a great way, and is not for my present purpose. But as to the fact\nof the melioration of their diet, I shall enter into the detail of proof\nwhenever I am called upon: in the mean time, the known difficulty of\ncontenting them with anything but bread made of the finest flour, and\nmeat of the first quality, is proof sufficient.\n\nX.\n\nI further assert, that even under all the hardships of the last year,\nthe labouring people did, either out of their direct gains, or from\ncharity (which it seems is now an insult to them), in fact, fare better\nthan they did in seasons of common plenty, fifty or sixty years ago; or\neven at the period of my English observation, which is about forty-four\nyears. I even assert, that full as many in that class as ever were known\nto do it before continued to save money; and this I can prove, so far as\nmy own information and experience extend.\n\nXI.\n\nIt is not true that the rate of wages has not increased with the nominal\nprice of provisions. I allow it has not fluctuated with that price,\nnor ought it; and the squires of Norfolk had dined when they gave it as\ntheir opinion, that it might or ought to rise and fall with the market\nof provisions. The rate of wages in truth has no DIRECT relation to\nthat price. Labour is a commodity like every other, and rises or falls\naccording to the demand. This is in the nature of things; however, the\nnature of things has provided for their necessities. Wages have been\ntwice raised in my time: and they bear a full proportion or even a\ngreater than formerly, to the medium of provision during the last bad\ncycle of twenty years. They bear a full proportion to the result of\ntheir labour. If we were wildly to attempt to force them beyond it, the\nstone which we had forced up the hill would only fall back upon them\nin a diminished demand, or what indeed is the far lesser evil, an\naggravated price, of all the provisions which are the result of their\nmanual toil.\n\nXII.\n\nThere is an implied contract, much stronger than any instrument or\narticle of agreement between the labourer in any occupation and his\nemployer--that the labour, so far as that labour is concerned, shall\nbe sufficient to pay to the employer a profit on his capital, and a\ncompensation for his risk; in a word, that the labour shall produce an\nadvantage equal to the payment. Whatever is above that, is a direct\nTAX; and if the amount of that tax be left to the will and pleasure of\nanother, it is an ARBITRARY TAX.\n\n\n\n\nDISAPPOINTED AMBITION.\n\nThe true cause of his drawing so shocking a picture is no more\nthan this, and it ought rather to claim our pity than excite our\nindignation;--he finds himself out of power; and this condition is\nintolerable to him. The same sun which gilds all nature, and exhilarates\nthe whole creation, does not shine upon disappointed ambition. It is\nsomething that rays out of darkness, and inspires nothing but gloom\nand melancholy. Men in this deplorable state of mind find a comfort in\nspreading the contagion of their spleen. They find an advantage too; for\nit is a general popular error to imagine the loudest complainers for\nthe public to be the most anxious for its welfare. If such persons can\nanswer the ends of relief and profit to themselves, they are apt to be\ncareless enough about either the means or the consequences.\n\n\n\n\nDIFFICULTY AN INSTRUCTOR.\n\nTheir purpose everywhere seems to have been to evade and slip aside from\nDIFFICULTY. This it has been the glory of the great masters in all the\narts to confront, and to overcome; and when they had overcome the first\ndifficulty, to turn it into an instrument for new conquests over new\ndifficulties; thus to enable them to extend the empire of their science;\nand even to push forward, beyond the reach of their original thoughts,\nthe landmarks of the human understanding itself. Difficulty is a severe\ninstructor, set over us by the supreme ordinance of a parental Guardian\nand Legislator, who knows us better than we know ourselves, as he loves\nus better too. Pater ipse colendi haud facilem esse viam voluit. He that\nwrestles with us strengthens our nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our\nantagonist is our helper. This amicable conflict with difficulty obliges\nus to an intimate acquaintance with our object, and compels us\nto consider it in all its relations. It will not suffer us to be\nsuperficial. It is the want of nerves of understanding for such a\ntask, it is the degenerate fondness for tricking short-cuts, and little\nfallacious facilities, that has in so many parts of the world created\ngovernments with arbitrary powers. They have created the late arbitrary\nmonarchy of France; they have created the arbitrary republic of Paris.\nWith them defects in wisdom are to be supplied by the plenitude of\nforce. They get nothing by it. Commencing their labours on a\nprinciple of sloth, they have the common fortune of slothful men. The\ndifficulties, which they rather had eluded than escaped, meet them again\nin their course; they multiply and thicken on them; they are involved,\nthrough a labyrinth of confused detail, in an industry without limit,\nand without direction; and, in conclusion, the whole of their work\nbecomes feeble, vicious, and insecure.\n\nIt is this inability to wrestle with difficulty which has obliged the\narbitrary Assembly of France to commence their schemes of reform with\nabolition and total destruction. But is it in destroying and pulling\ndown that skill is displayed? Your mob can do this as well at least as\nyour assemblies. The shallowest understanding, the rudest hand, is more\nthan equal to that task. Rage and phrensy will pull down more in half\nan hour than prudence, deliberation, and foresight can build up in a\nhundred years. The errors and defects of old establishments are visible\nand palpable. It calls for little ability to point them out; and where\nabsolute power is given, it requires but a word wholly to abolish\nthe vice and the establishment together. The same lazy but restless\ndisposition, which loves sloth and hates quiet, directs these\npoliticians, when they come to work for supplying the place of what they\nhave destroyed. To make everything the reverse of what they have seen,\nis quite as easy as to destroy. No difficulties occur in what has never\nbeen tried. Criticism is almost baffled in discovering the defects of\nwhat has not existed; and eager enthusiasm and cheating hope have all\nthe wide field of imagination, in which they may expatiate with little\nor no opposition.\n\n\n\n\nSOVEREIGN JURISDICTIONS.\n\nWith regard to the sovereign jurisdictions, I must observe, Sir, that\nwhoever takes a view of this kingdom in a cursory manner will imagine,\nthat he beholds a solid, compacted, uniform system of monarchy; in which\nall inferior jurisdictions are but as rays diverging from one centre.\nBut on examining it more nearly, you find much eccentricity and\nconfusion. It is not a monarchy in strictness. But, as in the Saxon\ntimes this country was an heptarchy, it is now a strange sort of\nPENTARCHY. It is divided into five several distinct principalities,\nbesides the supreme. There is indeed this difference from the Saxon\ntimes, that as in the itinerant exhibitions of the stage, for want of a\ncomplete company, they are obliged to throw a variety of parts on their\nchief performer; so our sovereign condescends himself to act not\nonly the principal, but all the subordinate, parts in the play. He\ncondescends to dissipate the royal character, and to trifle with those\nlight, subordinate, lacquered sceptres in those hands that sustain the\nball representing the world, or which wield the trident that commands\nthe ocean. Cross a brook, and you lose the king of England; but you have\nsome comfort in coming again under his majesty, though \"shorn of his\nbeams,\" and no more than prince of Wales. Go to the north, and you find\nhim dwindled to a duke of Lancaster; turn to the west of that north, and\nhe pops upon you in the humble character of earl of Chester. Travel a\nfew miles on, the earl of Chester disappears; and the king surprises\nyou again as count palatine of Lancaster. If you travel beyond Mount\nEdgecombe, you find him once more in his incognito, and he is duke of\nCornwall. So that, quite fatigued and satiated with this dull variety,\nyou are infinitely refreshed when you return to the sphere of his\nproper splendour, and behold your amiable sovereign in his true, simple,\nundisguised, native character of majesty.\n\n\n\n\nPRUDERY OF FALSE REFORM.\n\nEvery one must remember that the cabal set out with the most astonishing\nprudery, both moral and political. Those, who in a few months after\nsoused over head and ears into the deepest and dirtiest pits of\ncorruption, cried out violently against the indirect practices in the\nelecting and managing of parliaments, which had formerly prevailed.\nThis marvellous abhorrence which the court had suddenly taken to all\ninfluence, was not only circulated in conversation through the kingdom,\nbut pompously announced to the public, with many other extraordinary\nthings, in a pamphlet which had all the appearance of a manifesto\npreparatory to some considerable enterprise. Throughout it was a satire,\nthough in terms managed and decent enough, on the politics of the former\nreign. It was indeed written with no small art and address.\n\nIn this piece appeared the first dawning of the new system; there first\nappeared the idea (then only in speculation) of SEPARATING THE COURT\nFROM THE ADMINISTRATION; of carrying everything from national connection\nto personal regards; and of forming a regular party for that purpose,\nunder the name of KING'S MEN.\n\nTo recommend this system to the people, a perspective view of the court,\ngorgeously painted, and finely illuminated from within, was exhibited\nto the gaping multitude. Party was to be totally done away, with all its\nevil works. Corruption was to be cast down from court, as Ate was from\nheaven. Power was thenceforward to be the chosen residence of public\nspirit; and no one was to be supposed under any sinister influence,\nexcept those who had the misfortune to be in disgrace at court, which\nwas to stand in lieu of all vices and all corruptions. A scheme of\nperfection to be realized in a monarchy far beyond the visionary\nrepublic of Plato. The whole scenery was exactly disposed to captivate\nthose good souls, whose credulous morality is so invaluable a treasure\nto crafty politicians. Indeed there was wherewithal to charm everybody,\nexcept those few who are not much pleased with professions of\nsupernatural virtue, who know of what stuff such professions are\nmade, for what purposes they are designed, and in what they are sure\nconstantly to end. Many innocent gentlemen, who had been talking prose\nall their lives without knowing anything of the matter, began at last to\nopen their eyes upon their own merits, and to attribute their not having\nbeen lords of the treasury and lords of trade many years before, merely\nto the prevalence of party, and to the ministerial power, which\nhad frustrated the good intentions of the court in favour of their\nabilities. Now was the time to unlock the sealed fountain of royal\nbounty, which had been infamously monopolized and huckstered, and to\nlet it flow at large upon the whole people. The time was come to restore\nroyalty to its original splendour.\n\n\n\n\nEXAGGERATION.\n\nIf a few puny libellers, acting under a knot of factious politicians,\nwithout virtue, parts, or character (such they are constantly\nrepresented by these gentlemen), are sufficient to excite this\ndisturbance, very perverse must be the disposition of that people\namongst whom such a disturbance can be excited by such means. It is\nbesides no small aggravation of the public misfortune, that the disease,\non this hypothesis, appears to be without remedy. If the wealth of the\nnation be the cause of its turbulence, I imagine it is not proposed to\nintroduce poverty, as a constable to keep the peace. If our dominions\nabroad are the roots which feed all this rank luxuriance of sedition,\nit is not intended to cut them off in order to famish the fruit. If our\nliberty has enfeebled the executive power, there is no design, I hope,\nto call in the aid of despotism, to fill up the deficiencies of law.\nWhatever may be intended, these things are not yet professed. We\nseem therefore to be driven to absolute despair: for we have no other\nmaterials to work upon but those out of which God has been pleased\nto form the inhabitants of this island. If these be radically and\nessentially vicious, all that can be said is, that those men are very\nunhappy, to whose fortune or duty it falls to administer the affairs of\nthis untoward people. I hear it indeed sometimes asserted, that a steady\nperseverance in the present measures, and a rigorous punishment of those\nwho oppose them, will in course of time infallibly put an end to these\ndisorders. But this, in my opinion, is said without much observation of\nour present disposition, and without any knowledge at all of the general\nnature of mankind. If the matter of which this nation is composed be so\nvery fermentable as these gentlemen describe it, leaven never will be\nwanting to work it up, as long as discontent, revenge, and ambition,\nhave existence in the world. Particular punishments are the cure for\naccidental distempers in the state; they inflame rather than allay those\nheats which arise from the settled mismanagement of the government, or\nfrom a natural indisposition in the people. It is of the utmost moment\nnot to make mistakes in the use of strong measures; and firmness is then\nonly a virtue when it accompanies the most perfect wisdom. In truth,\ninconstancy is a sort of natural corrective of folly and ignorance.\n\n\n\n\nTACTICS OF CABAL.\n\nIt is a law of nature, that whoever is necessary to what we have made\nour object, is sure, in some way, or in some time or other, to become\nour master. All this, however, is submitted to, in order to avoid that\nmonstrous evil of governing in concurrence with the opinion of the\npeople. For it seems to be laid down as a maxim, that a king has some\nsort of interest in giving uneasiness to his subjects: that all who are\npleasing to them, are to be of course disagreeable to him: that as soon\nas the persons who are odious at court are known to be odious to the\npeople, it is snatched at as a lucky occasion of showering down upon\nthem all kinds of emoluments and honours. None are considered as\nwell-wishers to the crown, but those who advised to some unpopular\ncourse of action; none capable of serving it, but those who are obliged\nto call at every instant upon all its power for the safety of their\nlives. None are supposed to be fit priests in the temple of government,\nbut the persons who are compelled to fly into it for sanctuary. Such is\nthe effect of this refined project; such is ever the result of all the\ncontrivances, which are used to free men from the servitude of their\nreason and from the necessity of ordering their affairs according to\ntheir evident interests. These contrivances oblige them to run into a\nreal and ruinous servitude, in order to avoid a supposed restraint that\nmight be attended with advantage.\n\n\n\n\nGOVERNMENT, RELATIVE, NOT ABSOLUTE.\n\nI never govern myself--no rational man ever did govern himself--by\nabstractions and universals. I do not put abstract ideas wholly out of\nany question, because I well know, that under that name I should\ndismiss principles; and that without the guide and light of sound,\nwell-understood principles, all reasonings in politics, as in everything\nelse, would be only a confused jumble of particular facts and details,\nwithout the means of drawing out any sort of theoretical or practical\nconclusion. A statesman differs from a professor in an university:\nthe latter has only the general view of society; the former--the\nstatesmen--has a number of circumstances to combine with those general\nideas, and to take into his consideration. Circumstances are infinite,\nare infinitely combined; are variable and transient; he who does not\ntake them into consideration is not erroneous, but stark mad--dat operam\nut cum ratione insaniat--he is metaphysically mad. A statesman, never\nlosing sight of principles, is to be guided by circumstances; and\njudging contrary to the exigencies of the moment he may ruin his country\nfor ever.\n\nI go on this ground, that government, representing the society, has a\ngeneral superintending control over all the actions, and over all the\npublicly propagated doctrines of men, without which it never could\nprovide adequately for all the wants of society; but then it is to use\nthis power with an equitable discretion, the only bond of sovereign\nauthority. For it is not, perhaps, so much by the assumption of unlawful\npowers, as by the unwise or unwarrantable use of those which are most\nlegal, that governments oppose their true end and object; for there is\nsuch a thing as tyranny as well as usurpation. You can hardly state to\nme a case, to which legislature is the most confessedly competent, in\nwhich, if the rules of benignity and prudence are not observed, the most\nmischievous and oppressive things may not be done. So that after all,\nit is a moral and virtuous discretion, and not any abstract theory\nof right, which keeps governments faithful to their ends. Crude,\nunconnected truths are in the world of practice what falsehoods are in\ntheory.\n\nA reasonable, prudent, provident, and moderate coercion may be a means\nof preventing acts of extreme ferocity and rigour; for by propagating\nexcessive and extravagant doctrines, such extravagant disorders take\nplace, as require the most perilous and fierce corrections to oppose\nthem. It is not morally true, that we are bound to establish in every\ncountry that form of religion which in OUR minds is most agreeable to\ntruth, and conduces most to the eternal happiness of mankind. In the\nsame manner it is not true that we are, against the conviction of our\nown judgment, to establish a system of opinions and practises directly\ncontrary to those ends, only because some majority of the people,\ntold by the head, may prefer it. No conscientious man would willingly\nestablish what he knew to be false and mischievous in religion, or in\nanything else. No wise man, on the contrary, would tyrannically set up\nhis own sense so as to reprobate that of the great prevailing body\nof the community, and pay no regard to the established opinions\nand prejudices of mankind or refuse to them the means of securing a\nreligious instruction suitable to these prejudices. A great deal depends\non the state in which you find men.\n\n\n\n\nGENERAL VIEWS.\n\nThe foundations on which obedience to governments is founded, are not\nto be constantly discussed. That we are here, supposes the discussion\nalready made and the dispute settled. We must assume the rights of what\nrepresents the public to control the individual, to make his will and\nhis acts to submit to their will, until some intolerable grievance shall\nmake us know that it does not answer its end, and will submit neither to\nreformation nor restraint. Otherwise we should dispute all the points\nof morality before we can punish a murderer, robber, and adulterer; we\nshould analyze all society. Dangers by being despised grow great;\nso they do by absurd provision against them. Stulti est dixisse\nnon putaram. Whether an early discovery of evil designs, an early\ndeclaration, and an early precaution against them, be more wise than to\nstifle all inquiry about them, for fear they should declare themselves\nmore early than otherwise they would, and therefore precipitate the\nevil--all this depends on the reality of the danger. Is it only an\nunbookish jealousy, as Shakspeare calls it? It is a question of fact.\nDoes a design against the constitution of this country exist? If it\ndoes, and if it is carried on with increasing vigour and activity by a\nrestless faction, and if it receives countenance by the most ardent\nand enthusiastic applauses of its object, in the great council of this\nkingdom, by men of the first parts, which this kingdom produces, perhaps\nby the first it has ever produced, can I think that there is no danger?\nIf there be danger, must there be no precaution at all against it? If\nyou ask whether I think the danger urgent and immediate, I answer, thank\nGod, I do not. The body of the people is yet sound, the constitution is\nin their hearts, while wicked men are endeavouring to put another into\ntheir heads. But if I see the very same beginnings, which have commonly\nended in great calamities, I ought to act as if they might produce the\nvery same effects. Early and provident fear is the mother of safety;\nbecause in that state of things the mind is firm and collected, and the\njudgment unembarrassed. But when the fear, and the evil feared, come\non together, and press at once upon us, deliberation itself is ruinous,\nwhich saves upon all other occasions; because when perils are instant,\nit delays decision; the man is in a flutter, and in a hurry, and his\njudgment is gone, as the judgment of the deposed king of France and his\nministers was gone, if the latter did not premeditately betray him. He\nwas just come from his usual amusement of hunting, when the head of the\ncolumn of treason and assassination was arrived at his house. Let not\nthe king, let not the prince of Wales, be surprised in this manner. Let\nnot both houses of parliament be led in triumph along with him, and\nhave law dictated to them by the constitutional, the revolution, and\nthe Unitarian societies. These insect reptiles, whilst they go on only\ncaballing and toasting, only fill us with disgust; if they get above\ntheir natural size, and increase the quantity, whilst they keep the\nquality, of their venom, they become objects of the greatest terror. A\nspider in his natural size is only a spider, ugly and loathsome; and\nhis flimsy net is only fit for catching flies. But, good God! suppose\na spider as large as an ox, and that he spread cables about us, all the\nwilds of Africa would not produce anything so dreadful--\n\n    \"Quale portentum neque militaris\n    Daunia in latis alit esculetis,\n    Nec Jubae tellus generat leonum\n    Arida nutrix.\"\n\nThink of them, who dare menace in the way they do in their present\nstate, what would they do if they had power commensurate to their\nmalice. God forbid I ever should have a despotic master; but if I must,\nmy choice is made. I will have Louis XVI. rather than Monsieur Bailly,\nor Brissot, or Chabot; rather George III., or George IV., than Dr.\nPriestley or Dr. Kippis, persons who would not load a tyrannous power\nby the poisoned taunts of a vulgar, low-bred insolence. I hope we\nhave still spirit enough to keep us from the one or the other. The\ncontumelies of tyranny are the worst parts of it.\n\n\n\n\nMAGNITUDE IN BUILDING.\n\nTo the sublime in building, greatness of dimension seems requisite; for\non a few parts, and those small, the imagination cannot rise to any idea\nof infinity. No greatness in the manner can effectually compensate for\nthe want of proper dimensions. There is no danger of drawing men into\nextravagant designs by this rule; it carries its own caution along with\nit. Because too great a length in buildings destroys the purpose of\ngreatness, which it was intended to promote; the perspective will lessen\nit in height as it gains in length, and will bring it at last to a\npoint; turning the whole figure into a sort of triangle, the poorest in\nits effect of almost any figure that can be presented to the eye. I have\never observed, that colonnades and avenues of trees of a moderate length\nwere, without comparison, far grander than when they were suffered to\nrun to immense distances. A true artist should put a generous deceit on\nthe spectators, and effect the noblest designs by easy methods. Designs\nthat are vast only by their dimensions, are always the sign of a common\nand low imagination. No work of art can be great, but as it deceives; to\nbe otherwise is the prerogative of nature only. A good eye will fix the\nmedium betwixt an excessive length or height (for the same objection\nlies against both), and a short or broken quantity: and perhaps it might\nbe ascertained to a tolerable degree of exactness, if it was my purpose\nto descend far into the particulars of any art.\n\n\n\n\nSOCIETY AND SOLITUDE.\n\nThe second branch of the social passions is that which administers to\nSOCIETY IN GENERAL. With regard to this, I observe, that society, merely\nas society, without any particular heightenings, gives us no positive\npleasure in the enjoyment; but absolute and entire SOLITUDE, that\nis, the total and perpetual exclusion from all society, is as great\na positive pain as can almost be conceived. Therefore in the balance\nbetween the pleasure of general SOCIETY, and the pain of absolute\nsolitude, PAIN is the predominant idea. But the pleasure of any\nparticular social enjoyment outweighs very considerably the uneasiness\ncaused by the want of that particular enjoyment; so that the strongest\nsensations relative to the habitudes of PARTICULAR SOCIETY are\nsensations of pleasure. Good company, lively conversations, and\nthe endearments of friendship, fill the mind with great pleasure; a\ntemporary solitude, on the other hand, is itself agreeable. This may\nperhaps prove that we are creatures designed for contemplation as well\nas action; since solitude as well as society has its pleasures; as from\nthe former observation we may discern, that an entire life of solitude\ncontradicts the purposes of our being, since death itself is scarcely an\nidea of more terror.\n\n\n\n\nEAST-INDIA BILL AND COMPANY.\n\nI therefore freely admit to the East-India their claim to exclude their\nfellow-subjects from the commerce of half the globe. I admit their claim\nto administer an annual territorial revenue of seven millions sterling;\nto command an army of sixty thousand men; and to dispose (under the\ncontrol of a sovereign, imperial discretion, and with the due observance\nof the natural and local law) of the lives and fortunes of thirty\nmillions of their fellow-creatures. All this they possess by charter,\nand by acts of parliament (in my opinion), without a shadow of\ncontroversy.\n\nThose who carry the rights and claims of the company the furthest do not\ncontend for more than this; and all this I freely grant. But granting\nall this, they must grant to me, in my turn, that all political power\nwhich is set over men, and that all privilege claimed or exercised in\nexclusion of them, being wholly artificial, and for so much a derogation\nfrom the natural quality of mankind at large, ought to be some way or\nother exercised ultimately for their benefit.\n\nIf this is true with regard to every species of political dominion,\nand every description of commercial privilege, none of which can be\noriginal, self-derived rights, or grants for the mere private benefit\nof the holders, then such rights, or privileges, or whatever else you\nchoose to call them, are all in the strictest sense a TRUST; and it is\nof the very essence of every trust to be rendered ACCOUNTABLE; and even\ntotally to CEASE, when it substantially varies from the purposes for\nwhich alone it could have a lawful existence.\n\nThis I conceive, Sir, to be true of trusts of power vested in the\nhighest hands, and of such as seem to hold of no human creature. But\nabout the application of this principle to subordinate, DERIVATIVE\ntrusts, I do not see how a controversy can be maintained. To whom then\nwould I make the East-India Company accountable? Why, to parliament,\nto be sure; to parliament, from which their trust was derived; to\nparliament, which alone is capable of comprehending the magnitude of\nits object, and its abuse; and alone capable of an effectual legislative\nremedy. The very charter, which is held out to exclude parliament from\ncorrecting malversation with regard to the high trust vested in the\ncompany, is the very thing which at once gives a title and imposes on\nus a duty to interfere with effect, wherever power and authority\noriginating from ourselves are perverted from their purposes, and become\ninstruments of wrong and violence. If parliament, Sir, had nothing to do\nwith this charter, we might have some sort of Epicurean excuse to stand\naloof, indifferent spectators of what passes in the company's name in\nIndia and in London. But if we are the very cause of the evil, we are\nin a special manner engaged to the redress; and for us passively to bear\nwith oppressions committed under the sanction of our own authority, is\nin truth and reason for this house to be an active accomplice in the\nabuse.\n\nThat the power, notoriously, grossly abused, has been bought from us is\nvery certain. But this circumstance, which is urged against the bill,\nbecomes an additional motive for our interference; lest we should\nbe thought to have sold the blood of millions of men, for the base\nconsideration of money. We sold, I admit, all that we had to sell; that\nis, our authority, not our control. We had not a right to make a market\nof our duties.\n\nI ground myself therefore on this principle--that if the abuse is\nproved, the contract is broken, and we re-enter into all our rights;\nthat is, into the exercise of all our duties. Our own authority is\nindeed as much a trust originally, as the company's authority is a trust\nderivatively; and it is the use we make of the resumed power that must\njustify or condemn us in the resumption of it. When we have perfected\nthe plan laid before us by the right honourable mover, the world will\nthen see what it is we destroy, and what it is we create. By that test\nwe stand or fall; and by that test I trust that it will be found in\nthe issue, that we are going to supersede a charter abused to the full\nextent of all the powers which it could abuse, and exercised in the\nplenitude of despotism, tyranny, and corruption; and that in one and the\nsame plan, we provide a real chartered security for the RIGHTS OF MEN,\ncruelly violated under that charter.\n\nThis bill, and those connected with it, are intended to form the magna\ncharta of Hindostan. Whatever the treaty of Westphalia is to the liberty\nof the princes and free cities of the empire, and to the three religions\nthere professed; whatever the great charter, the statute of tallege, the\npetition of right, and the declaration of right, are to Great Britain,\nthese bills are to the people of India. Of this benefit, I am certain,\ntheir condition is capable; and when I know that they are capable of\nmore, my vote shall most assuredly be for our giving to the full extent\nof their capacity of receiving; and no charter of dominion shall stand\nas a bar in my way to their charter of safety and protection.\n\nThe strong admission I have made of the company's rights (I am conscious\nof it) binds me to do a great deal. I do not presume to condemn those\nwho argue a priori, against the propriety of leaving such extensive\npolitical powers in the hands of a company of merchants. I know much\nis, and much more may be, said against such a system. But, with my\nparticular ideas and sentiments, I cannot go that way to work. I feel\nan insuperable reluctance in giving my hand to destroy any established\ninstitution of government, upon a theory, however plausible it may be.\nMy experience in life teaches me nothing clear upon the subject. I\nhave known merchants with the sentiments and the abilities of great\nstatesmen; and I have seen persons in the rank of statesmen, with\nthe conceptions and characters of pedlars. Indeed, my observation has\nfurnished me with nothing that is to be found in any habits of life or\neducation, which tends wholly to disqualify men for the functions of\ngovernment, but that by which the power of exercising those functions\nis very frequently obtained, I mean a spirit and habits of low cabal\nand intrigue; which I have never, in one instance, seen united with\na capacity for sound and manly policy. To justify us in taking the\nadministration of their affairs out of the hands of the East-India\nCompany, on my principles, I must see several conditions. 1st. The\nobject affected by the abuse should be great and important. 2nd. The\nabuse affecting this great object ought to be a great abuse. 3rd. It\nought to be habitual, and not accidental. 4th. It ought to be utterly\nincurable in the body as it now stands constituted. All this ought to\nbe made as visible to me as the light of the sun, before I should strike\noff an atom of their charter.\n\n\n\n\nPARLIAMENTS AND ELECTIONS.\n\nAll are agreed, that parliaments should not be perpetual; the only\nquestion is, what is the most convenient time for their duration? On\nwhich there are three opinions. We are agreed, too, that the term ought\nnot to be chosen most likely in its operation to spread corruption,\nand to augment the already overgrown influence of the Crown. On these\nprinciples I mean to debate the question. It is easy to pretend a zeal\nfor liberty. Those, who think themselves not likely to be encumbered\nwith the performance of their promises, either from their known\ninability, or total indifference about the performance, never fail to\nentertain the most lofty ideas. They are certainly the most specious,\nand they cost them neither reflection to frame, nor pains to modify, nor\nmanagement to support. The task is of another nature to those, who mean\nto promise nothing that it is not in their intention, or may possibly\nbe in their power, to perform; to those, who are bound and principled no\nmore to delude the understandings than to violate the liberty of their\nfellow-subjects. Faithful watchmen we ought to be over the rights and\nprivileges of the people. But our duty, if we are qualified for it as we\nought, is to give them information, and not to receive it from them;\nwe are not to go to school to them to learn the principles of law and\ngovernment. In doing so, we should not dutifully serve, but we should\nbasely and scandalously betray, the people, who are not capable of this\nservice by nature, nor in any instance called to it by the constitution.\nI reverentially look up to the opinion of the people, and with an awe\nthat is almost superstitious. I should be ashamed to show my face before\nthem, if I changed my ground, as they cried up or cried down men, or\nthings, or opinions; if I wavered and shifted about with every change,\nand joined in it, or opposed, as best answered any low interest or\npassion; if I held them up hopes, which I knew I never intended, or\npromised what I well knew I could not perform. Of all these things they\nare perfect sovereign judges, without appeal; but as to the detail of\nparticular measures, or to any general schemes of policy, they have\nneither enough of speculation in the closet, nor of experience in\nbusiness, to decide upon it. They can well see whether we are tools of\na court, or their honest servants. Of that they can well judge; and I\nwish, that they always exercised their judgment; but of the particular\nmerits of a measure I have other standards.**** That the frequency of\nelections proposed by this bill has a tendency to increase the power\nand consideration of the electors, not lessen corruptibility, I do most\nreadily allow; so far it is desirable; this is what it has, I will tell\nyou now what it has not: 1st. It has no sort of tendency to increase\ntheir integrity and public spirit, unless an increase of power has an\noperation upon voters in elections, that it has in no other situation\nin the world, and upon no other part of mankind. 2nd. This bill has no\ntendency to limit the quantity of influence in the Crown, to render\nits operation more difficult, or to counteract that operation, which it\ncannot prevent, in any way whatsoever. It has its full weight, its full\nrange, and its uncontrolled operation on the electors exactly as it had\nbefore. 3rd. Nor, thirdly, does it abate the interest or inclination of\nministers to apply that influence to the electors: on the contrary, it\nrenders it much more necessary to them, if they seek to have a majority\nin parliament to increase the means of that influence, and redouble\ntheir diligence, and to sharpen dexterity in the application. The whole\neffect of the bill is therefore the removing the application of some\npart of the influence from the elected to the electors, and further to\nstrengthen and extend a court interest already great and powerful in\nboroughs; here to fix their magazines and places of arms, and thus to\nmake them the principal, not the secondary theatre of their manoeuvres\nfor securing a determined majority in parliament. I believe nobody will\ndeny, that the electors are corruptible. They are men; it is saying\nnothing worse of them; many of them are but ill informed in their minds,\nmany feeble in their circumstances, easily over-reached, easily seduced.\nIf they are many, the wages of corruption are the lower; and would to\nGod it were not rather a contemptible and hypocritical adulation than\na charitable sentiment to say, that there is already no debauchery,\nno corruption, no bribery, no perjury, no blind fury, and interested\nfaction among the electors in many parts of this kingdom: nor is it\nsurprising, or at all blamable, in that class of private men, when\nthey see their neighbours aggrandised, and themselves poor and virtuous\nwithout that eclat or dignity, which attends men in higher situations.\n\nBut admit it were true, that the great mass of the electors were too\nvast an object for court influence to grasp, or extend to, and that in\ndespair they must abandon it; he must be very ignorant of the state of\nevery popular interest, who does not know, that in all the corporations,\nall the open boroughs, indeed in every district of the kingdom, there is\nsome leading man, some agitator, some wealthy merchant, or considerable\nmanufacturer, some active attorney, some popular preacher, some\nmoney-lender, etc. etc. who is followed by the whole flock. This is the\nstyle of all free countries.\n\n    \"--Multum in Fabia valet hic, valet ille Velina;\n    Cuilibet hic fasces dabit eripietque curule.\"\n\nThese spirits, each of which informs and governs his own little orb, are\nneither so many, nor so little powerful, nor so incorruptible, but that\na minister may, as he does frequently, find means of gaining them,\nand through them all their followers. To establish, therefore, a very\ngeneral influence among electors will no more be found an impracticable\nproject, than to gain an undue influence over members of parliament.\nTherefore I am apprehensive, that this bill, though it shifts the place\nof the disorder, does by no means relieve the constitution. I went\nthrough almost every contested election in the beginning of this\nparliament, and acted as a manager in very many of them; by which,\nthough as at a school of pretty severe and rugged discipline, I came\nto have some degree of instruction concerning the means, by which\nparliamentary interests are in general procured and supported.\n\nTheory, I know, would suppose, that every general election is to\nthe representative a day of judgment, in which he appears before his\nconstituents to account for the use of the talent, with which they\nintrusted him, and for the improvement he has made of it for the public\nadvantage. It would be so, if every corruptible representative were to\nfind an enlightened and incorruptible constituent. But the practice\nand knowledge of the world will not suffer us to be ignorant, that\nthe constitution on paper is one thing, and in fact and experience is\nanother. We must know, that the candidate, instead of trusting at his\nelection to the testimony of his behaviour in parliament, must bring the\ntestimony of a large sum of money, the capacity of liberal expense\nin entertainments, the power of serving and obliging the rulers of\ncorporations, of winning over the popular leaders of political clubs,\nassociations, and neighbourhoods. It is ten thousand times more\nnecessary to show himself a man of power, than a man of integrity, in\nalmost all the elections with which I have been acquainted. Elections,\ntherefore, become a matter of heavy expense; and if contests are\nfrequent, to many they will become a matter of an expense totally\nruinous, which no fortunes can bear; but least of all the landed\nfortunes, encumbered as they often, indeed as they mostly, are with\ndebts, with portions, with jointures; and tied up in the hands of the\npossessor by the limitations of settlement. It is a material, it is\nin my opinion a lasting, consideration in all the questions concerning\nelection. Let no one think the charges of elections a trivial matter.\nThe charge therefore of elections ought never to be lost sight of in a\nquestion concerning their frequency; because the grand object you\nseek is independence. Independence of mind will ever be more or less\ninfluenced by independence of fortune; and if, every three years, the\nexhausting sluices of entertainments, drinkings, open houses, to say\nnothing of bribery, are to be periodically drawn up and renewed;--if\ngovernment-favours, for which now, in some shape or other, the whole\nrace of men are candidates, are to be called for upon every occasion,\nI see that private fortunes will be washed away, and every, even to\nthe least, trace of independence borne down by the torrent. I do not\nseriously think this constitution, even to the wrecks of it, could\nsurvive five triennial elections. If you are to fight the battle, you\nmust put on the armour of the ministry; you must call in the public,\nto the aid of private, money. The expense of the last election has\nbeen computed (and I am persuaded that it has not been over-rated) at\n1,500,000 pounds;--three shillings in the pound more in the land tax.\nAbout the close of the last parliament, and the beginning of this,\nseveral agents for boroughs went about, and I remember well, that it was\nin every one of their mouths--\"Sir, your election will cost you three\nthousand pounds, if you are independent; but if the ministry supports\nyou, it may be done for two, and perhaps for less;\" and, indeed, the\nthing spoke itself. Where a living was to be got for one, a commission\nin the army for another, a lift in the navy for a third, and\ncustom-house offices scattered about without measure or number, who\ndoubts but money may be saved? The treasury may even add money; but\nindeed it is superfluous. A gentleman of two thousand a year, who meets\nanother of the same fortune, fights with equal arms; but if to one of\nthe candidates you add a thousand a-year in places for himself, and\na power of giving away as much among others, one must, or there is no\ntruth in arithmetical demonstration, ruin his adversary, if he is to\nmeet him and to fight with him every third year. It will be said, I do\nnot allow for the operation of character; but I do; and I know it will\nhave its weight in most elections; perhaps it may be decisive in some.\nBut there are few in which it will be prevent great expenses.\n\nThe destruction of independent fortunes will be the consequence on\nthe part of the candidate. What will be the consequence of triennial\ncorruption, triennial drunkenness, triennial idleness, triennial\nlaw-suits, litigations, prosecutions, triennial phrensy, of society\ndissolved, industry interrupted, ruined; of those personal hatreds, that\nwill never be suffered to soften; those animosities and feuds, which\nwill be rendered immortal; those quarrels, which are never to be\nappeased; morals vitiated and gangrened to the vitals? I think no stable\nand useful advantages were ever made by the money got at elections by\nthe voter, but all he gets is doubly lost to the public; it is money\ngiven to diminish the general stock of the community, which is in the\nindustry of the subject. I am sure, that it is a good while before he or\nhis family settle again to their business. Their heads will never cool;\nthe temptations of elections will be for ever glittering before their\neyes. They will all grow politicians; every one, quitting his business,\nwill choose to enrich himself by his vote. They will all take the\ngauging-rod; new places will be made for them; they will run to the\ncustom-house quay, their looms and ploughs will be deserted.\n\nSo was Rome destroyed by the disorders of continual elections, though\nthose of Rome were sober disorders. They had nothing but faction,\nbribery, bread, and stage plays, to debauch them. We have the\ninflammation of liquor superadded, a fury hotter than any of them. There\nthe contest was only between citizen and citizen; here you have the\ncontest of ambitious citizens on one side, supported by the Crown, to\noppose to the efforts (let it be so) of private and unsupported ambition\non the other. Yet Rome was destroyed by the frequency and charge of\nelections, and the monstrous expense of an unremitted courtship to the\npeople. I think, therefore, the independent candidate and elector may\neach be destroyed by it; the whole body of the community be an infinite\nsufferer; and a vitious ministry the only gainer.\n\n\n\n\nRELIGION AND MAGISTRACY.\n\nIn a Christian commonwealth the church and the state are one and the\nsame thing, being different integral parts of the same whole. For the\nchurch has been always divided into two parts, the clergy and the laity;\nof which the laity is as much an essential integral part, and has as\nmuch its duties and privileges, as the clerical member; and in the rule,\norder, and government of the church has its share. Religion is so far,\nin my opinion, from being out of the province of the duty of a Christian\nmagistrate, that it is, and it ought to be, not only his care, but the\nprincipal thing in his care; because it is one of the great bonds of\nhuman society; and its object the supreme good, the ultimate end and\nobject of man himself. The magistrate, who is a man, and charged with\nthe concerns of men, and to whom very specially nothing human is\nremote and indifferent, has a right and a duty to watch over it with\nan unceasing vigilance, to protect, to promote, to forward it by every\nrational, just, and prudent means. It is principally his duty to prevent\nthe abuses, which grow out of every strong and efficient principle, that\nactuates the human mind. As religion is one of the bonds of society, he\nought not to suffer it to be made the pretext of destroying its peace,\norder, liberty, and its security. Above all, he ought strictly to look\nto it when men begin to form new combinations, to be distinguished by\nnew names, and especially when they mingle a political system with their\nreligious opinions, true or false, plausible or implausible.\n\nIt is the interest, and it is the duty, and because it is the interest\nand the duty, it is the right of government to attend much to opinions;\nbecause, as opinions soon combine with passions, even when they do not\nproduce them, they have much influence on actions. Factions are formed\nupon opinions; which factions become in effect bodies corporate in the\nstate;--nay, factions generate opinions in order to become a centre\nof union, and to furnish watch-words to parties; and this may make it\nexpedient for government to forbid things in themselves innocent and\nneutral. I am not fond of defining with precision what the ultimate\nrights of the sovereign supreme power in providing for the safety of the\ncommonwealth may be, or may not extend to. It will signify very little\nwhat my notions, or what their own notions, on the subject may be;\nbecause, according to the exigence, they will take, in fact, the steps\nwhich seem to them necessary for the preservation of the whole; for as\nself-preservation in individuals is the first law of nature, the same\nwill prevail in societies, who will, right or wrong, make that an object\nparamount to all other rights whatsoever.\n\n\n\n\nPERSECUTION, FALSE IN THEORY.\n\nThe bottom of this theory of persecution is false. It is not permitted\nto us to sacrifice the temporal good of any body of men to our own ideas\nof the truth and falsehood of any religious opinions. By making men\nmiserable in this life, they counteract one of the great ends of\ncharity; which is, inasmuch as in us lies, to make men happy in every\nperiod of their existence, and most in what most depends upon us.\nBut give to these old persecutors their mistaken principle, in their\nreasoning they are consistent, and in their tempers they may be even\nkind and good-natured. But whenever a faction would render millions\nof mankind miserable, some millions of the race co-existent with\nthemselves, and many millions in their succession, without knowing, or\nso much as pretending to ascertain, the doctrines of their own school\n(in which there is much of the lash and nothing of the lesson), the\nerrors, which the persons in such a faction fall into, are not those\nthat are natural to human imbecility, nor is the least mixture of\nmistaken kindness to mankind an ingredient in the severities they\ninflict. The whole is nothing but pure and perfect malice. It is,\nindeed, a perfection in that kind belonging to beings of a higher order\nthan man, and to them we ought to leave it. This kind of persecutors,\nwithout zeal, without charity, know well enough, that religion, to pass\nby all questions of the truth or falsehood of any of its particular\nsystems (a matter I abandon to the theologians on all sides), is a\nsource of great comfort to us mortals in this our short but tedious\njourney through the world. They know, that to enjoy this consolation,\nmen must believe their religion upon some principle or other, whether of\neducation, habit, theory, or authority. When men are driven from any\nof those principles, on which they have received religion, without\nembracing with the same assurance and cordiality some other system, a\ndreadful void is left in their minds, and a terrible shock is given to\ntheir morals. They lose their guide, their comfort, their hope. None\nbut the most cruel and hard-hearted of men, who had banished all natural\ntenderness from their minds, such as those beings of iron, the atheists,\ncould bring themselves to any persecution like this. Strange it is, but\nso it is, that men, driven by force from their habits in one mode of\nreligion, have, by contrary habits, under the same force, often quietly\nsettled in another. They suborn their reason to declare in favour of\ntheir necessity. Man and his conscience cannot always be at war. If\nthe first races have not been able to make a pacification between the\nconscience and the convenience, their descendants come generally to\nsubmit to the violence of the laws, without violence to their minds.\n\n\n\n\nIRISH LEGISLATION.\n\nThe legislature of Ireland, like all legislatures, ought to frame its\nlaws to suit the people and the circumstances of the country, and not\nany longer to make it their whole business to force the nature, the\ntemper, and the inveterate habits of a nation to a conformity to\nspeculative systems concerning any kind of laws. Ireland has an\nestablished government, and a religion legally established, which are\nto be preserved. It has a people, who are to be preserved too, and to be\nled by reason, principle, sentiment, and interest to acquiesce in that\ngovernment. Ireland is a country under peculiar circumstances. The\npeople of Ireland are a very mixed people; and the quantities of the\nseveral ingredients in the mixture are very much disproportioned to each\nother. Are we to govern this mixed body as if it were composed of\nthe most simple elements, comprehending the whole in one system of\nbenevolent legislation; or are we not rather to provide for the several\nparts according to the various and diversified necessities of the\nheterogeneous nature of the mass? Would not common reason and common\nhonesty dictate to us the policy of regulating the people in the several\ndescriptions of which they are composed, according to the natural ranks\nand classes of an orderly civil society, under a common protecting\nsovereign, and under a form of constitution favourable at once to\nauthority and to freedom; such as the British constitution boasts to be,\nand such as it is, to those who enjoy it?\n\n\n\n\nHENRY OF NAVARRE.\n\nI have observed the affectation which, for many years past, has\nprevailed in Paris even to a degree perfectly childish, of idolizing the\nmemory of your Henry the Fourth. If anything could put any one out of\nhumour with that ornament to the kingly character, it would be this\noverdone style of insidious panegyric. The persons who have worked this\nengine the most busily are those who have ended their panegyrics in\ndethroning his successor and descendant; a man, as good natured, at the\nleast, as Henry the Fourth; altogether as fond of his people; and who\nhas done infinitely more to correct the ancient vices of the state than\nthat great monarch did, or we are sure he ever meant to do. Well it is\nfor his panegyrists that they have not him to deal with. For Henry of\nNavarre was a resolute, active, and politic prince. He possessed indeed\ngreat humanity and mildness; but a humanity and mildness that never\nstood in the way of his interests. He never sought to be loved without\nputting himself first in a condition to be feared. He used soft language\nwith determined conduct. He asserted and maintained his authority in\nthe gross, and distributed his acts of concession only in the detail. He\nspent the income of his prerogative nobly; but he took care not to break\nin upon the capital; never abandoning for a moment any of the claims\nwhich he made under the fundamental laws, nor sparing to shed the\nblood of those who opposed him, often in the field, sometimes upon\nthe scaffold. Because he knew how to make his virtues respected by the\nungrateful, he has merited the praises of those, whom if they had\nlived in his time, he would have shut up in the Bastile, and brought to\npunishment along with the regicides whom he hanged after he had famished\nParis into a surrender.\n\n\n\n\nTEST ACTS.\n\nIn a discussion which took place in the year 1790, Mr. Burke declared\nhis intention, in case the motion for repealing the Test Acts had been\nagreed to, of proposing to substitute the following test in the room of\nwhat was intended to be repealed. \"I, A.B. do, in the presence of God,\nsincerely profess and believe, that a religious establishment in this\nstate is not contrary to the law of God, or disagreeable to the law of\nnature, or to the true principles of the Christian religion, or that\nit is noxious to the community; and I do sincerely promise and engage,\nbefore God, that I never will, by any conspiracy, contrivance, or\npolitical device whatever, attempt, or abet others in any attempt, to\nsubvert the constitution of the church of England, as the same is now\nby law established, and that I will not employ any power or influence,\nwhich I may derive from any office corporate, or any other office which\nI hold, or shall hold, under his majesty, his heirs and successors, to\ndestroy and subvert the same; or, to cause members to be elected into\nany corporation, or into parliament, give my vote in the election of any\nmember or members of parliament, or into any office, for or on account\nof their attachment to any other or different religious opinions or\nestablishments, or with any hope, that they may promote the same to the\nprejudice of the established church; but will dutifully and peaceably\ncontent myself with my private liberty of conscience, as the same is\nallowed by law.\n\n\"So help me God.\"\n\n\n\n\nWHAT FACTION OUGHT TO TEACH.\n\nIf, however, you could find out these pedigrees of guilt, I do not think\nthe difference would be essential. History records many things, which\nought to make us hate evil actions; but neither history, nor morals, nor\npolicy, can teach us to punish innocent men on that account. What lesson\ndoes the iniquity of prevalent factions read to us? It ought to lesson\nus into an abhorrence of the abuse of our own power in our own day; when\nwe hate its excesses so much in other persons and in other times. To\nthat school true statesmen ought to be satisfied to leave mankind. They\nought not to call from the dead all the discussions and litigations\nwhich formerly inflamed the furious factions, which had torn their\ncountry to pieces; they ought not to rake into the hideous and\nabominable things, which were done in the turbulent fury of an injured,\nrobbed, and persecuted people, and which were afterwards cruelly\nrevenged in the execution, and as outrageously and shamefully\nexaggerated in the representation, in order, a hundred and fifty\nyears after, to find some colour for justifying them in the eternal\nproscription and civil excommunication of a whole people.\n\n\n\n\nGRIEVANCES BY LAW.\n\nThis business appears in two points of view. 1. Whether it is a matter\nof grievance. 2. Whether it is within our province to redress it\nwith propriety and prudence. Whether it comes properly before us on a\npetition upon matter of grievance, I would not inquire too curiously.\nI know, technically speaking, that nothing agreeable to law can be\nconsidered as a grievance. But an over-attention to the rules of any\nact does sometimes defeat the ends of it, and I think it does so in\nthis parliamentary act, as much at least as in any other. I know many\ngentlemen think, that the very essence of liberty consists in being\ngoverned according to law; as if grievances had nothing real and\nintrinsic; but I cannot be of that opinion. Grievances may subsist\nby law. Nay, I do not know whether any grievance can be considered as\nintolerable until it is established and sanctified by law. If the act\nof toleration were not perfect, if there were a complaint of it, I would\ngladly consent to amend it. But when I heard a complaint of a pressure\non religious liberty, to my astonishment, I find that there was no\ncomplaint whatsoever of the insufficiency of the act of King William,\nnor any attempt to make it more sufficient. The matter therefore does\nnot concern toleration, but establishment; and it is not the rights of\nprivate conscience that are in question, but the propriety of the terms,\nwhich are proposed by law as a title to public emoluments; so that the\ncomplaint is not, that there is not toleration of diversity in opinion,\nbut that diversity in opinion is not rewarded by bishoprics, rectories,\nand collegiate stalls. When gentlemen complain of the subscription\nas matter of grievance, the complaint arises from confounding private\njudgment, whose rights are anterior to law, and the qualifications,\nwhich the law creates for its own magistracies, whether civil or\nreligious. To take away from men their lives, their liberty, or\ntheir property, those things, for the protection of which society was\nintroduced, is great hardship and intolerable tyranny; but to annex\nany condition you please to benefits, artificially created, is the most\njust, natural, and proper thing in the world. When e novo you form an\narbitrary benefit, an advantage, pre-eminence, or emolument, not by\nnature, but institution, you order and modify it with all the power of\na creator over his creature. Such benefits of institution are royalty,\nnobility, priesthood; all of which you may limit to birth; you might\nprescribe even shape and stature. The Jewish priesthood was hereditary.\nFounders' kinsmen have a preference in the election of Fellows in many\ncolleges of our universities; the qualifications at All Souls are, that\nthey should be--optime nati, bene vestiti, mediocriter docti.\n\nBy contending for liberty in the candidate for orders, you take away the\nliberty of the elector, which is the people; that is, the state. If\nthey can choose, they may assign a reason for their choice; if they\ncan assign a reason, they may do it in writing, and prescribe it as a\ncondition; they may transfer their authority to their representatives,\nand enable them to exercise the same. In all human institutions a great\npart, almost all regulations, are made from the mere necessity of the\ncase, let the theoretical merits of the question be what they will. For\nnothing happened at the reformation, but what will happen in all\nsuch revolutions. When tyranny is extreme, and abuses of government\nintolerable, men resort to the rights of nature to shake it off.\nWhen they have done so, the very same principle of necessity of human\naffairs, to establish some other authority, which shall preserve\nthe order of this new institution, must be obeyed, until they grow\nintolerable; and you shall not be suffered to plead original liberty\nagainst such an institution. See Holland, Switzerland.\n\nIf you will have religion publicly practised and publicly taught, you\nmust have a power to say what that religion will be which you will\nprotect and encourage; and to distinguish it by such marks and\ncharacteristics, as you in your wisdom shall think fit. As I said\nbefore, your determination may be unwise in this as in other matters,\nbut it cannot be unjust, hard, or oppressive, or contrary to the liberty\nof any man, or in the least degree exceeding your province.\n\nIt is therefore as a grievance fairly none at all, nothing but what\nis essential not only to the order, but to the liberty, of the whole\ncommunity.\n\n\n\n\nREVOLUTIONARY POLITICS.\n\nIn France you are now in the crisis of a revolution, and in the transit\nfrom one form of government to another--you cannot see that character\nof men exactly in the same situation in which we see it in this country.\nWith us it is militant; with you it is triumphant; and you know how\nit can act when its power is commensurate to its will. I would not be\nsupposed to confine those observations to any description of men, or to\ncomprehend all men of any description within them--No! far from it. I am\nas incapable of that injustice, as I am of keeping terms with those who\nprofess principles of extremes; and who, under the name of religion,\nteach little else than wild and dangerous politics. The worst of these\npolitics of revolution is this: they temper and harden the breast, in\norder to prepare it for the desperate strokes which are sometimes used\nin extreme occasions. But as these occasions may never arrive, the\nmind receives a gratuitous taint; and the moral sentiments suffer not\na little, when no political purpose is served by the depravation. This\nsort of people are so taken up with their theories about the rights of\nman, that they have totally forgotten his nature. Without opening one\nnew avenue to the understanding, they have succeeded in stopping up\nthose that lead to the heart. They have perverted in themselves, and in\nthose that attend to them, all the well-placed sympathies of the human\nbreast.\n\nThis famous sermon of the Old Jewry breathes nothing but this spirit\nthrough all the political part. Plots, massacres, assassinations, seem\nto some people a trivial price for obtaining a revolution. A cheap,\nbloodless reformation, a guiltless liberty, appear flat and vapid to\ntheir taste. There must be a great change of scene; there must be a\nmagnificent stage effect; there must be a grand spectacle to rouse\nthe imagination, grown torpid with the lazy enjoyment of sixty years'\nsecurity, and the still unanimating repose of public prosperity. The\npreacher found them all in the French revolution. This inspires a\njuvenile warmth through his whole frame. His enthusiasm kindles as he\nadvances; and when he arrives at his peroration it is in a full blaze.\nThen viewing, from the Pisgah of his pulpit, the free, moral, happy,\nflourishing, and glorious state of France, as in a bird-eye landscape of\na promised land, he breaks out into rapture.\n\n\n\n\nTOLERATION BECOME INTOLERANT.\n\nWhen any dissenters, or any body of people, come here with a petition,\nit is not the number of people, but the reasonableness of the request,\nthat should weigh with the house. A body of dissenters come to this\nhouse, and say, Tolerate us--we desire neither the parochial advantage\nof tithes, nor dignities, nor the stalls of your cathedrals. No! let the\nvenerable orders of the hierarchy exist with all their advantages.\nAnd shall I tell them, I reject your just and reasonable petition, not\nbecause it shakes the church, but because there are others, while you\nlie grovelling upon the earth, that will kick and bite you? Judge which\nof these descriptions of men comes with a fair request--that, which\nsays, Sir, I desire liberty for my own, because I trespass on no man's\nconscience;--or the other, which says, I desire that these men should\nnot be suffered to act according to their consciences, though I am\ntolerated to act according to mine. But I sign a body of articles, which\nis my title to toleration; I sign no more, because more are against my\nconscience. But I desire that you will not tolerate these men, because\nthey will not go so far as I, though I desire to be tolerated, who will\nnot go as far as you. No, imprison them, if they come within five miles\nof a corporate town, because they do not believe what I do in point of\ndoctrines. Shall I not say to these men, \"Arrangez-vous, canaille?\"\nYou, who are not the predominant power, will not give to others the\nrelaxation, under which you are yourself suffered to live. I have as\nhigh an opinion of the doctrines of the church as you. I receive them\nimplicitly, or I put my own explanation on them, or take that which\nseems to me to come best recommended by authority. There are those of\nthe dissenters, who think more rigidly of the doctrine of the articles\nrelative to predestination, than others do. They sign the article\nrelative to it ex animo, and literally. Others allow a latitude of\nconstruction. These two parties are in the church, as well as among the\ndissenters; yet in the church we live quietly under the same roof. I do\nnot see why, as long as Providence gives us no further light into this\ngreat mystery, we should not leave things as the Divine wisdom has left\nthem. But suppose all these things to me to be clear (which Providence\nhowever seems to have left obscure), yet whilst dissenters claim a\ntoleration in things which, seeming clear to me, are obscure to them,\nwithout entering into the merit of the articles, with what face can\nthese men say, Tolerate us, but do not tolerate them? Toleration is good\nfor all, or it is good for none.\n\nThe discussion this day is not between establishment on one hand,\nand toleration on the other, but between those, who being tolerated\nthemselves, refuse toleration to others. That power should be puffed\nup with pride, that authority should degenerate into rigour, if not\nlaudable, is but too natural. But this proceeding of theirs is much\nbeyond the usual allowance to human weakness; it not only is shocking to\nour reason, but it provokes our indignation. Quid domini facient,\naudent cum talia fures? It is not the proud prelate thundering in his\ncommission court, but a pack of manumitted slaves with the lash of the\nbeadle flagrant on their backs, and their legs still galled with their\nfetters, that would drive their brethren into that prison-house from\nwhence they have just been permitted to escape. If, instead of puzzling\nthemselves in the depths of the Divine counsels, they would turn to the\nmild morality of the Gospel, they would read their own condemnation:--O\nthou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt because thou desiredst\nme: shouldest not thou also have compassion on thy fellow-servant, even\nas I had pity on thee?\n\n\n\n\nWILKES AND RIGHT OF ELECTION.\n\nIn the last session, the corps called the \"king's friends\" made a hardy\nattempt, all at once, TO ALTER THE RIGHT OF ELECTION ITSELF; to put\nit into the power of the House of Commons to disable any person\ndisagreeable to them from sitting in parliament, without any other\nrule than their own pleasure; to make incapacities, either general for\ndescriptions of men, or particular for individuals; and to take into\ntheir body, persons who avowedly never been chosen by the majority of\nlegal electors, nor agreeably to any known rule of law.\n\nThe arguments upon which this claim was founded and combated, are not\nmy business here. Never has a subject been more amply and more learnedly\nhandled, nor upon one side, in my opinion, more satisfactorily; they\nwho are not convinced by what is already written would not receive\nconviction THOUGH ONE AROSE FROM THE DEAD.\n\nI too have thought on this subject: but my purpose here, is only to\nconsider it as a part of the favourite project of government; to observe\non the motives which led to it; and to trace its political consequences.\n\nA violent rage for the punishment of Mr. Wilkes was the pretence of the\nwhole. This gentleman, by setting himself strongly in opposition to the\ncourt cabal, had become at once an object of their persecution, and\nof the popular favour. The hatred of the court party pursuing, and the\ncountenance of the people protecting him, it very soon became not at all\na question on the man, but a trial of strength between the two parties.\nThe advantage of the victory in this particular contest was the present,\nbut not the only, nor by any means the principal, object. Its operation\nupon the character of the House of Commons was the great point in view.\nThe point to be gained by the cabal was this; that a precedent should be\nestablished, tending to show, THAT THE FAVOUR OF THE PEOPLE WAS NOT\nSO SURE A ROAD AS THE FAVOUR OF THE COURT EVEN TO POPULAR HONOURS AND\nPOPULAR TRUSTS. A strenuous resistance to every appearance of lawless\npower; a spirit of independence carried to some degree of enthusiasm;\nan inquisitive character to discover, and a bold one to display, every\ncorruption and every error of government; these are the qualities which\nrecommend a man to a seat in the House of Commons, in open and merely\npopular elections. An indolent and submissive disposition; a disposition\nto think charitably of all the actions of men in power, and to live in\na mutual intercourse of favours with them; an inclination rather\nto countenance a strong use of authority, than to bear any sort of\nlicentiousness on the part of the people; these are unfavourable\nqualities in an open election for members of parliament. The instinct\nwhich carries the people towards the choice of the former, is justified\nby reason; because a man of such a character, even in its exorbitances,\ndoes not directly contradict the purposes of a trust, the end of which\nis a control on power. The latter character, even when it is not in its\nextreme, will execute this trust but very imperfectly; and, if deviating\nto the least excess, will certainly frustrate instead of forwarding the\npurposes of a control on government. But when the House of Commons\nwas to be new modelled, is principle was not only to be changed but\nreversed. Whilst any errors committed in support of power were left to\nthe law, with every advantage of favourable construction, of mitigation,\nand finally of pardon: all excesses on the side of liberty, or\nin pursuit of popular favour, or in defence of popular rights and\nprivileges, were not only to be punished by the rigour of the known\nlaw, but by a DISCRETIONARY proceeding, which brought on THE LOSS OF THE\nPOPULAR OBJECT ITSELF. Popularity was to be rendered, if not directly\npenal, at least highly dangerous. The favour of the people might lead\neven to a disqualification of representing them. Their odium might\nbecome, strained through the medium of two or three constructions, the\nmeans of sitting as the trustee of all that was dear to them. This\nis punishing the offence in the offending part. Until this time, the\nopinion of the people, through the power of an assembly, still in some\nsort popular, led to the greatest honours and emoluments in the gift of\nthe crown. Now the principle is reversed; and the favour of the court is\nthe only sure way of obtaining and holding those honours which ought to\nbe in the disposal of the people.\n\nIt signifies very little how this matter may be quibbled away. Example,\nthe only argument of effect in civil life, demonstrates the truth of\nmy proposition. Nothing can alter my opinion concerning the pernicious\ntendency of this example, until I see some man for his indiscretion\nin the support of power, for his violent and intemperate servility,\nrendered incapable of sitting in parliament. For as it now stands,\nthe fault of overstraining popular qualities, and, irregularly if you\nplease, asserting popular privileges, has led to disqualification; the\nopposite fault never has produced the slightest punishment. Resistance\nto power has shut the door of the House of Commons to one man;\nobsequiousness and servility, to none.\n\nNot that I would encourage popular disorder, or any disorder. But I\nwould leave such offences to the law, to be punished in measure and\nproportion. The laws of this country are for the most part constituted,\nand wisely so, for the general ends of government, rather than for the\npreservation of our particular liberties. Whatever, therefore, is done\nin support of liberty, by persons not in public trust, or not acting\nmerely in that trust, is liable to be more or less out of the ordinary\ncourse of the law; and the law itself is sufficient to animadvert upon\nit with great severity. Nothing indeed can hinder that severe letter\nfrom crushing us, except the temperaments it may receive from a trial by\njury. But if the habit prevail OF GOING BEYOND THE LAW, and superseding\nthis judicature, of carrying offences, real or supposed, into the\nlegislative bodies, who shall establish themselves into COURTS OF\nCRIMINAL EQUITY (so THE STAR CHAMBER has been called by Lord Bacon),\nall the evils of the STAR CHAMBER are revived. A large and liberal\nconstruction in ascertaining offences, and a discretionary power in\npunishing them, is the idea of CRIMINAL EQUITY; which is in truth a\nmonster in jurisprudence. It signifies nothing whether a court for this\npurpose be a committee of council, or a house of commons, or a house of\nlords; the liberty of the subject will be equally subverted by it. The\ntrue end and purpose of that house of parliament which entertains such a\njurisdiction, will be destroyed by it. I will not believe, what no other\nman living believes, that Mr. Wilkes was punished for the indecency\nof his publications, or the impiety of his ransacked closet. If he had\nfallen in a common slaughter of libellers and blasphemers, I could well\nbelieve that nothing more was meant than was pretended. But when I see,\nthat, for years together, full as impious, and perhaps more dangerous,\nwritings to religion, and virtue, and order, have not been punished, nor\ntheir authors discountenanced; that the most audacious libels on royal\nmajesty have passed without notice; that the most treasonable invectives\nagainst the laws, liberties, and constitution of the country, have not\nmet with the slightest animadversion; I must consider this as a shocking\nand shameless pretence. Never did an envenomed scurrility against\neverything sacred and civil, public and private, rage through the\nkingdom with such a furious and unbridled licence. All this while the\npeace of the nation must be shaken, to ruin one libeller, and to tear\nfrom the populace a single favourite.\n\nNor is it that vice merely skulks in an obscure and contemptible\nimpunity. Does not the public behold with indignation, persons not only\ngenerally scandalous in their lives, but the identical persons who, by\ntheir society, their instruction, their example, their encouragement,\nhave drawn this man into the very faults which have furnished the cabal\nwith a pretence for his persecution, loaded with every kind of favour,\nhonour, and distinction, which a court can bestow? Add but the crime of\nservility (the foedum crimen servitutis) to every other crime, and the\nwhole mass is immediately transmuted into virtue, and becomes the just\nsubject of reward and honour. When therefore I reflect upon this method\npursued by the cabal in distributing rewards and punishments, I must\nconclude that Mr. Wilkes is the object of persecution, not on account\nof what he has done in common with others who are the objects of reward,\nbut for that in which he differs from many of them: that he is pursued\nfor the spirited dispositions which are blended with his vices; for\nhis unconquerable firmness, for his resolute, indefatigable, strenuous\nresistance against oppression.\n\nIn this case, therefore, it was not the man that was to be punished, nor\nhis faults that were to be discountenanced. Opposition to acts of power\nwas to be marked by a kind of civil proscription. The popularity which\nshould arise from such an opposition was to be shown unable to protect\nit. The qualities by which court is made to the people, were to render\nevery fault inexpiable, and every error irretrievable. The qualities by\nwhich court is made to power, were to cover and to sanctify everything.\nHe that will have a sure and honourable seat in the House of Commons,\nmust take care how he adventures to cultivate popular qualities;\notherwise he may remember the old maxim, Breves et infaustos populi\nRomani amores. If, therefore, a pursuit of popularity expose a man to\ngreater dangers than a disposition to servility, the principle which\nis the life and soul of popular elections will perish out of the\nconstitution.\n\n\n\n\nROCKINGHAM AND CONWAY.\n\nIt is now given out for the usual purposes, by the usual emissaries,\nthat Lord Rockingham did not consent to the repeal of this act until he\nwas bullied into it by Lord Chatham; and the reporters have gone so\nfar as publicly to assert, in a hundred companies, that the honourable\ngentleman under the gallery, who proposed the repeal in the American\ncommittee, had another set of resolutions in his pocket directly the\nreverse of those he moved. These artifices of a desperate cause are\nat this time spread abroad, with incredible care, in every part of the\ntown, from the highest to the lowest companies; as if the industry of\nthe circulation were to make amends for the absurdity of the report.\nSir, whether the noble lord is of a complexion to be bullied by Lord\nChatham, or by any man, I must submit to those who know him. I confess,\nwhen I look back to that time, I consider him as placed in one of the\nmost trying situations in which, perhaps, any man ever stood. In the\nHouse of Peers there were very few of the ministry, out of the noble\nlord's own particular connection (except Lord Egmont, who acted, as far\nas I could discern, an honourable and manly part), that did not look to\nsome other future arrangement, which warped his politics. There were\nin both houses new and menacing appearances, that might very naturally\ndrive any other, than a most resolute minister, from his measure or\nfrom his station. The household troops openly revolted. The allies\nof ministry (those, I mean, who supported some of their measures, but\nrefused responsibility for any) endeavoured to undermine their credit,\nand to take ground that must be fatal to the success of the very cause\nwhich they would be thought to countenance. The question of the repeal\nwas brought on by ministry in the committee of this house, in the very\ninstant when it was known that more than one court negotiation was\ncarrying on with the heads of the opposition. Everything, upon every\nside, was full of traps and mines. Earth below shook; heaven above\nmenaced; all the elements of ministerial safety were dissolved. It was\nin the midst of this chaos of plots and counterplots; it was in the\nmidst of this complicated warfare against public opposition and private\ntreachery, that the firmness of that noble person was put to the proof.\nHe never stirred from his ground: no, not an inch. He remained fixed and\ndetermined, in principle, in measure, and in conduct. He practised no\nmanagements. He secured no retreat. He sought no apology.\n\nI will likewise do justice, I ought to do it, to the honourable\ngentlemen who led us in this house. Far from the duplicity wickedly\ncharged on him, he acted his part with alacrity and resolution. We\nall felt inspired by the example he gave us, down even to myself, the\nweakest in that phalanx. I declare for one, I knew well enough (it could\nnot be concealed from anybody) the true state of things; but, in my\nlife, I never came with so much spirits into this house. It was a time\nfor a MAN to act in. We had powerful enemies, but we had faithful and\ndetermined friends; and a glorious cause. We had a great battle to\nfight, but we had the means of fighting; not as now, when our arms are\ntied behind us. We did fight that day, and conquer.\n\nI remember, Sir, with a melancholy pleasure, the situation of the\nhonourable gentleman (General Conway.) who made the motion for the\nrepeal; in that crisis when the whole trading interest of this empire,\ncrammed into your lobbies, with a trembling and anxious expectation,\nwaited, almost to a winter's return of light, their fate from your\nresolutions. When, at length, you had determined in their favour, and\nyour doors, thrown open, showed them the figure of their deliverer in\nthe well-earned triumph of his important victory, from the whole of\nthat grave multitude there arose an involuntary burst of gratitude and\ntransport. They jumped upon him like children on a long-absent father.\nThey clung about him as captives about their redeemer. All England, all\nAmerica joined to his applause. Nor did he seem insensible to the best\nof all earthly rewards, the love and admiration of his fellow-citizens.\nHOPE ELEVATED, AND JOY BRIGHTENED HIS CREST. I stood near him; and his\nface, to use the expression of the scripture of the first martyr, \"his\nface was as if it had been the face of an angel.\" I do not know how\nothers feel; but if I had stood in that situation, I never would have\nexchanged it for all that kings in their profusion could bestow. I did\nhope that that day's danger and honour would have been a bond to hold us\nall together for ever. But, alas! that, with other pleasing visions, is\nlong since vanished.\n\nSir, this act of supreme magnanimity has been represented, as if it had\nbeen a measure of an administration, that having no scheme of their\nown, took a middle line, pilfered a bit from one side and a bit from the\nother. Sir, they took NO middle lines. They differed fundamentally from\nthe schemes of both parties; but they preserved the objects of both.\nThey preserved the authority of Great Britain. They made the Declaratory\nAct; they repealed the Stamp Act. They did both FULLY; because the\nDeclaratory Act was without QUALIFICATION; and the repeal of the Stamp\nAct TOTAL. This they did in the situation I have described.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICS IN THE PULPIT.\n\nIt is plain that the mind of this POLITICAL preacher was at the time\nbig with some extraordinary design; and it is very probable that the\nthoughts of his audience, who understood him better than I do, did\nall along run before him in his reflection, and in the whole train\nof consequences to which it led. Before I read that sermon, I really\nthought I had lived in a free country; and it was an error I cherished,\nbecause it gave me a greater liking to the country I lived in. I was\nindeed aware, that a jealous, ever-waking vigilance, to guard the\ntreasure of our liberty, not only from invasion, but from decay\nand corruption, was our best wisdom, and our first duty. However, I\nconsidered that treasure rather as a possession to be secured, than as\na prize to be contended for. I did not discern how the present time came\nto be so very favourable to all EXERTIONS in the cause of freedom. The\npresent time differs from any other only by the circumstance of what is\ndoing in France. If the example of that nation is to have an influence\non this, I can easily conceive why some of their proceedings which\nhave an unpleasant aspect, and are not quite reconcilable to humanity,\ngenerosity, good faith, and justice, are palliated with so much milky\ngood-nature towards the actors, and born with so much heroic fortitude\ntowards the sufferers. It is certainly not prudent to discredit the\nauthority of an example we mean to follow. But allowing this, we are led\nto a very natural question:--What is that cause of liberty, and what\nare those exertions in its favour, to which the example of France is so\nsingularly auspicious? Is our monarchy to be annihilated, with all\nthe laws, all the tribunals, and all the ancient corporations of the\nkingdom? Is every land-mark of the country to be done away in favour of\na geometrical and arithmetical constitution? Is the House of Lords to be\nvoted useless? Is episcopacy to be abolished? Are the church lands to\nbe sold to Jews and jobbers; or given to bribe new-invented municipal\nrepublics into a participation in sacrilege? Are all the taxes to be\nvoted grievances, and the revenue reduced to a patriotic contribution,\nor patriotic presents? Are silver shoe-buckles to be substituted in the\nplace of the land-tax and the malt-tax, for the support of the naval\nstrength of this kingdom? Are all orders, ranks, and distinctions to\nbe confounded, that out of universal anarchy, joined to national\nbankruptcy, three or four thousand democracies should be formed into\neighty-three, and that they may all, by some sort of unknown attractive\npower, be organized into one? For this great end is the army to be\nseduced from its discipline and its fidelity, first by every kind of\ndebauchery, and then by the terrible precedent of a donative in the\nincrease of pay? Are the curates to be secluded from their bishops, by\nholding out to them the delusive hope of a dole out of the spoils of\ntheir own order? Are the citizens of London to be drawn from their\nallegiance by feeding them at the expense of their fellow-subjects? Is\na compulsory paper currency to be substituted in the place of the legal\ncoin of this kingdom? Is what remains of the plundered stock of public\nrevenue to be employed in the wild project of maintaining two armies to\nwatch over and to fight with each other? If these are the ends and means\nof the Revolution Society, I admit they are well assorted; and France\nmay furnish them for both with precedents in point. I see that your\nexample is held out to shame us. I know that we are supposed a dull,\nsluggish race, rendered passive by finding our situation tolerable, and\nprevented by a mediocrity of freedom from ever attaining to its full\nperfection. Your leaders in France began by affecting to admire, almost\nto adore, the British constitution; but, as they advanced, they came\nto look upon it with a sovereign contempt. The friends of your National\nAssembly amongst us have full as mean an opinion of what was formerly\nthought the glory of their country. The Revolution Society has\ndiscovered that the English nation is not free. They are convinced that\nthe inequality in our representation is a\"defect in our constitution SO\nGROSS AND PALPABLE, as to make it excellent chiefly in FORM and THEORY.\"\n(Discourse on the Love of our Country, 3rd edition page 39.) That a\nrepresentation in the legislature of a kingdom is not only the basis\nof all constitutional liberty in it, but of \"ALL LEGITIMATE GOVERNMENT;\nthat without it a GOVERNMENT is nothing but a USURPATION;\"--that \"when\nthe representation is PARTIAL, the kingdom possesses liberty only\nPARTIALLY; and if extremely partial it gives only a SEMBLANCE; and\nif not only extremely partial, but corruptly chosen, it becomes a\nNUISANCE.\" Dr. Price considers this inadequacy of representation as\nour FUNDAMENTAL GRIEVANCE; and though, as to the corruption of this\nsemblance of representation, he hopes it is not yet arrived to its full\nperfection of depravity, he fears that \"nothing will be done towards\ngaining for us this ESSENTIAL BLESSING, until some GREAT ABUSE OF POWER\nagain provokes our resentment, or some GREAT CALAMITY again alarms\nour fears, or perhaps till the acquisition of a PURE AND EQUAL\nREPRESENTATION BY OTHER COUNTRIES, whilst we are MOCKED with the SHADOW,\nkindles our shame.\" To this he subjoins a note in these words. \"A\nrepresentation chosen chiefly by the treasury, and a FEW thousands of\nthe DREGS of the people, who are generally paid for their votes.\"\n\nYou will smile here at the consistency of those democratists, who, when\nthey are not on their guard, treat the humbler part of the community\nwith the greatest contempt, whilst, at the same time, they pretend\nto make them the depositories of all power. It would require a long\ndiscourse to point out to you the many fallacies that lurk in\nthe generality and equivocal nature of the terms \"inadequate\nrepresentation.\" I shall only say here, in justice to that\nold-fashioned constitution, under which we have long prospered, that our\nrepresentation has been found perfectly adequate to all the purposes for\nwhich a representation of the people can be desired or devised. I defy\nthe enemies of our constitution to show the contrary. To detail the\nparticulars in which it is found so well to promote its ends, would\ndemand a treatise on our practical constitution. I state here the\ndoctrine of the revolutionists, only that you and others may see,\nwhat an opinion these gentlemen entertain of the constitution of their\ncountry, and why they seem to think that some great abuse of power,\nor some great calamity, as giving a chance for the blessing of a\nconstitution according to their ideas, would be much palliated to their\nfeelings; you see WHY THEY are so much enamoured of your fair and\nequal representation, which being once obtained, the same effects\nmight follow. You see they consider our House of Commons as only \"a\nsemblance,\" \"a form,\" \"a theory,\" \"a shadow,\" \"a mockery,\" perhaps \"a\nnuisance.\"\n\n\n\n\nWILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.\n\nThere is nothing more memorable in history than the actions, fortunes,\nand character of this great man; whether we consider the grandeur of the\nplans he formed, the courage and wisdom with which they were executed,\nor the splendour of that success, which, adorning his youth, continued\nwithout the smallest reserve to support his age even to the last moments\nof his life. He lived above seventy years, and reigned within ten years\nas long as he lived: sixty over his dukedom, above twenty over England;\nboth of which he acquired or kept by his own magnanimity, with hardly\nany other title than he derived from his arms; so that he might be\nreputed, in all respects, as happy as the highest ambition, the most\nfully gratified, can make a man. The silent inward satisfactions of\ndomestic happiness he neither had nor sought. He had a body suited to\nthe character of his mind, erect, firm, large, and active; whilst to\nbe active was a praise; a countenance stern, and which became command.\nMagnificent in his living, reserved in his conversation, grave in his\ncommon deportment, but relaxing with a wise facetiousness, he knew how\nto relieve his mind and preserve his dignity; for he never forfeited\nby a personal acquaintance that esteem he had acquired by his great\nactions. Unlearned in books, he formed his understanding by the rigid\ndiscipline of a large and complicated experience. He knew men much, and\ntherefore generally trusted them but little; but when he knew any man\nto be good, he reposed in him an entire confidence, which prevented his\nprudence from degenerating into a vice. He had vices in his composition,\nand great ones; but they were the vices of a great mind: ambition, the\nmalady of every extensive genius; and avarice, the madness of the wise:\none chiefly actuated his youth; the other governed his age. The vices\nof young and light minds, the joys of wine, and the pleasures of love,\nnever reached his aspiring nature. The general run of men he looked on\nwith contempt, and treated with cruelty when they opposed him. Nor\nwas the rigour of his mind to be softened but with the appearance of\nextraordinary fortitude in his enemies, which, by a sympathy congenial\nto his own virtues, always excited his admiration, and insured his\nmercy. So that there were often seen in this one man, at the same time,\nthe extremes of a savage cruelty, and a generosity, that does honour\nto human nature. Religion, too, seemed to have a great influence on his\nmind from policy, or from better motives; but his religion was displayed\nin the regularity with which he performed his duties, not in the\nsubmission he showed to its ministers, which was never more than what\ngood government required. Yet his choice of a counsellor and favourite\nwas not, according to the mode of the time, out of that order, and a\nchoice that does honour to his memory. This was Lanfranc, a man of great\nlearning for the times, and extraordinary piety. He owed his elevation\nto William; but, though always inviolably faithful, he never was the\ntool or flatterer of the power which raised him; and the greater freedom\nhe showed, the higher he rose in the confidence of his master. By mixing\nwith the concerns of state he did not lose his religion and conscience,\nor make them the covers or instruments of ambition; but tempering the\nfierce policy of a new power by the mild lights of religion, he became\na blessing to the country in which he was promoted. The English owed to\nthe virtue of this stranger, and the influence he had on the king, the\nlittle remains of liberty they continued to enjoy; and at last such a\ndegree of his confidence, as in some sort counterbalanced the severities\nof the former part of his reign.\n\n\n\n\nKING ALFRED.\n\nWhen Alfred had once more reunited the kingdoms of his ancestors, he\nfound the whole face of things in the most desperate condition; there\nwas no observance of law and order; religion had no force; there was no\nhonest industry; the most squalid poverty, and the grossest ignorance,\nhad overspread the whole kingdom. Alfred at once enterprised the cure of\nall these evils. To remedy the disorders in the government, he revived,\nimproved, and digested all the Saxon institutions; insomuch that he\nis generally honoured as the founder of our laws and constitution.\n(Historians, copying after one another, and examining little, have\nattributed to this monarch the institution of juries; an institution\nwhich certainly did never prevail amongst the Saxons. They have likewise\nattributed to him the distribution of England into shires, hundreds,\nand tithings, and of appointing officers over these divisions. But it is\nvery obvious that the shires were never settled upon any regular plan,\nnor are they the result of any single design. But these reports, however\nill imagined, are a strong proof of the high veneration in which this\nexcellent prince has always been held; as it has been thought that the\nattributing these regulations to him would endear them to the nation.\nHe probably settled them in such an order, and made such reformations\nin his government, that some of the institutions themselves, which he\nimproved, have been attributed to him; and indeed there was one work\nof his, which serves to furnish us with a higher idea of the political\ncapacity of that great man than any of these fictions. He made a general\nsurvey and register of all the property in the kingdom, who held it, and\nwhat it was distinctly; a vast work for an age of ignorance and time\nof confusion, which has been neglected in more civilized nations and\nsettled times. It was called the \"Roll of Winton,\" and served as a model\nof a work of the same kind made by William the Conqueror.) The shire\nhe divided into hundreds; the hundreds into tithings; every freeman\nwas obliged to be entered into some tithing, the members of which were\nmutually bound for each other for the preservation of the peace, and the\navoiding theft and rapine. For securing the liberty of the subject, he\nintroduced the method of giving bail, the most certain fence against the\nabuses of power. It has been observed, that the reigns of weak princes\nare times favourable to liberty; but the wisest and bravest of all the\nEnglish princes is the father of their freedom. This great man was even\njealous of the privileges of his subjects; and as his whole life was\nspent in protecting them, his last will breathes the same spirit,\ndeclaring, that he had left his people as free as their own thoughts. He\nnot only collected with great care a complete body of laws, but he wrote\ncomments on them for the instruction of his judges, who were in general\nby the misfortune of the time ignorant; and if he took care to correct\ntheir ignorance, he was rigorous towards their corruption. He inquired\nstrictly into their conduct; he heard appeals in person; he held his\nWittena-Gemotes, or parliaments, frequently, and kept every part of his\ngovernment in health and vigour.\n\nNor was he less solicitous for the defence, than he had shown himself\nfor the regulation, of his kingdom. He nourished with particular care\nthe new naval strength, which he had established; he built forts and\ncastles in the most important posts; he settled beacons to spread an\nalarm on the arrival of an enemy; and ordered his militia in such a\nmanner, that there was always a great power in readiness to march, well\nappointed and well disciplined. But that a suitable revenue might not be\nwanting for the support of his fleets and fortifications, he gave great\nencouragement to trade; which by the piracies on the coasts, and the\nrapine and injustice exercised by the people within, had long become a\nstranger to this island.\n\nIn the midst of these various and important cares, he gave a peculiar\nattention to learning, which by the rage of the late wars had been\nentirely extinguished in his kingdom. \"Very few there were (says\nthis monarch) on this side the Humber, that understood their ordinary\nprayers; or that were able to translate any Latin book into English; so\nfew, that I do not remember even one qualified to the southward of the\nThames when I began my reign.\" To cure this deplorable ignorance, he was\nindefatigable in his endeavours to bring into England men of learning in\nall branches from every part of Europe; and unbounded in his liberality\nto them. He enacted by a law, that every person possessed of two hides\nof land should send their children to school until sixteen. Wisely\nconsidering where to put a stop to his love even of the liberal arts,\nwhich are only suited to a liberal condition, he enterprised yet a\ngreater design than that of forming the growing generation,--to instruct\neven the grown; enjoining all his earldormen and sheriffs immediately\nto apply themselves to learning or to quit their offices. To facilitate\nthese great purposes, he made a regular foundation of a university,\nwhich with great reason is believed to have been at Oxford. Whatever\ntrouble he took to extend the benefits of learning amongst his subjects,\nhe showed the example himself, and applied to the cultivation of his\nmind with unparalleled diligence and success. He could neither read nor\nwrite at twelve years old; but he improved his time in such a manner\nthat he became one of the most knowing men of his age, in geometry, in\nphilosophy, in architecture, and in music. He applied himself to the\nimprovement of his native language; he translated several valuable works\nfrom Latin, and wrote a vast number of poems in the Saxon tongue with a\nwonderful facility and happiness. He not only excelled in the theory of\nthe arts and sciences, but possessed a great mechanical genius for the\nexecutive part; he improved the manner of ship-building, introduced\na more beautiful and commodious architecture, and even taught his\ncountrymen the art of making bricks, most of the buildings having been\nof wood before his time; in a word, he comprehended in the greatness of\nhis mind the whole of government and all its parts at once; and what is\nmost difficult to human frailty, was the same time sublime and minute.\nReligion, which in Alfred's father was so prejudicial to affairs,\nwithout being in him at all inferior in its zeal and fervour, was of\na more enlarged and noble kind; far from being a prejudice to his\ngovernment, it seems to have been the principle that supported him in\nso many fatigues, and fed like an abundant source his civil and military\nvirtues. To his religious exercises and studies he devoted a full third\npart of his time. It is pleasant to trace a genius even in its smallest\nexertions; in measuring and allotting his time for the variety of\nbusiness he was engaged in. According to his severe and methodical\ncustom, he had a sort of wax candles, made of different colours,\nin different proportions, according to the time he allotted to each\nparticular affair; as he carried these about with him wherever he went,\nto make them burn evenly, he invented horn lanthorns. One cannot help\nbeing amazed, that a prince, who lived in such turbulent times,\nwho commanded personally in fifty-four pitched battles, who had so\ndisordered a province to regulate, who was not only a legislator but a\njudge, and who was continually superintending his armies, his navies,\nthe traffic of his kingdom, his revenues, and the conduct of all his\nofficers, could have bestowed so much of his time on religious exercises\nand speculative knowledge; but the exertion of all his faculties and\nvirtues seemed to have given a mutual strength to all of them. Thus all\nhistorians speak of this prince, whose whole history was one panegyric;\nand whatever dark spots of human frailty may have adhered to such a\ncharacter, they are entirely hid in the splendour of his many shining\nqualities and grand virtues, that throw a glory over the obscure period\nin which he lived, and which is for no other reason worthy of our\nknowledge.\n\n\n\n\nDRUIDS.\n\nThe Druids are said to be very expert in astronomy, in geography, and\nin all parts of mathematical knowledge. And authors speak, in a very\nexaggerated strain, of their excellence in these, and in many other\nsciences. Some elemental knowledge I suppose they had; but I can\nscarcely be persuaded that their learning was either deep or extensive.\nIn all countries where Druidism was professed, the youth were generally\ninstructed by that order; and yet was there little either in the\nmanners of the people, in their way of life, or their works of art,\nthat demonstrates profound science, or particularly mathematical skill.\nBritain, where their discipline was in its highest perfection, and\nwhich was therefore resorted to by the people of Gaul, as an oracle in\nDruidical questions, was more barbarous in all other respects than Gaul\nitself, or than any other country then known in Europe. Those piles of\nrude magnificence, Stonehenge and Abury, are in vain produced in proof\nof their mathematical abilities. These vast structures have nothing\nwhich can be admired, but the greatness of the work; and they are not\nthe only instances of the great things, which the mere labour of many\nhands united, and persevering in their purpose, may accomplish with\nvery little help from mechanics. This may be evinced by the immense\nbuildings, and the low state of the sciences, among the original\nPeruvians. The Druids were eminent, above all the philosophic lawgivers\nof antiquity, for their care in impressing the doctrine of the soul's\nimmortality on the minds of their people, as an operative and leading\nprinciple. This doctrine was inculcated on the scheme of transmigration,\nwhich some imagine them to have derived from Pythagoras. But it is by no\nmeans necessary to resort to any particular teacher for an opinion which\nowes its birth to the weak struggles of unenlightened reason, and to\nmistakes natural to the human mind. The idea of the soul's immortality\nis indeed ancient, universal, and in a manner inherent in our nature;\nbut it is not easy for a rude people to conceive any other mode of\nexistence than one similar to what they had experienced in life; nor\nany other world as the scene of such an existence, but this we\ninhabit, beyond the bounds of which the mind extends itself with great\ndifficulty. Admiration, indeed, was able to exalt to heaven a few\nselected heroes; it did not seem absurd, that those, who in their mortal\nstate had distinguished themselves as superior and overruling spirits,\nshould after death ascend to that sphere, which influences and governs\neverything below; or that the proper abode of beings, at once so\nillustrious and permanent, should be in that part of nature, in which\nthey had always observed the greatest splendour and the least mutation.\nBut on ordinary occasions it was natural some should imagine, that the\ndead retired into a remote country, separated from the living by seas\nor mountains. It was natural, that some should follow their imagination\nwith a simplicity still purer, and pursue the souls of men no further\nthan the sepulchres, in which their bodies had been deposited; whilst\nothers of deeper penetration, observing that bodies, worn out by age, or\ndestroyed by accidents, still afforded the materials for generating new\nones, concluded likewise, that a soul being dislodged did not wholly\nperish, but was destined, by a similar revolution in nature, to act\nagain, and to animate some other body. This last principle gave rise to\nthe doctrine of transmigration; but we must not presume of course, that\nwhere it prevailed it necessarily excluded the other opinions; for it\nis not remote from the usual procedure of the human mind, blending, in\nobscure matters, imagination and reasoning together, to unite ideas\nthe most inconsistent. When Homer represents the ghosts of his heroes\nappearing at the sacrifices of Ulysses, he supposes them endued with\nlife, sensation, and a capacity of moving, but he has joined to these\npowers of living existence uncomeliness, want of strength, want of\ndistinction, the characteristics of a dead carcass. This is what the\nmind is apt to do; it is very apt to confound the ideas of the surviving\nsoul and the dead body. The vulgar have always, and still do confound\nthese very irreconcilable ideas. They lay the scene of apparitions in\nchurchyards; they habit the ghost in a shroud; and it appears in all\nthe ghastly paleness of a corpse. A contradiction of this kind has given\nrise to a doubt, whether the Druids did in reality hold the doctrine\nof transmigration. There is positive testimony, that they did hold it.\nThere is also testimony as positive, that they buried, or burned with\nthe dead, utensils, arms, slaves, and whatever might be judged useful\nto them, as if they were to be removed into a separate state. They might\nhave held both these opinions; and we ought not to be surprised to find\nerror inconsistent.\n\n\n\n\nSAXON CONQUEST AND CONVERSION.\n\nBut whatever was the condition of the other parts of Europe, it is\ngenerally agreed that the state of Britain was the worst of all.\nSome writers have asserted, that except those who took refuge in the\nmountains of Wales and Cornwall, or fled into Armorica, the British race\nwas, in a manner, destroyed. What is extraordinary, we find England in a\nvery tolerable state of population in less than two centuries after\nthe first invasion of the Saxons; and it is hard to imagine either the\ntransplantation, or the increase, of that single people to have been, in\nso short a time, sufficient for the settlement of so great an extent of\ncountry. Others speak of the Britons, not as extirpated, but as reduced\nto a state of slavery; and here these writers fix the origin of personal\nand predial servitude in England.\n\nI shall lay fairly before the reader all I have been able to discover\nconcerning the existence or condition of this unhappy people. That they\nwere much more broken and reduced than any other nation which had fallen\nunder the German power, I think may be inferred from two considerations:\nfirst, that in all other parts of Europe the ancient language subsisted\nafter the conquest, and at length incorporated with that of the\nconquerors; whereas in England, the Saxon language received little or no\ntincture from the Welsh; and it seems, even among the lowest people, to\nhave continued a dialect of pure Teutonic to the time in which it was\nitself blended with the Norman. Secondly, that on the continent, the\nChristian religion, after the northern irruptions, not only remained,\nbut flourished. It was very early and universally adopted by the ruling\npeople. In England it was so entirely extinguished, that, when Augustin\nundertook his mission, it does not appear that among all the Saxons\nthere was a single person professing Christianity. The sudden extinction\nof the ancient religion and language appears sufficient to show that\nBritain must have suffered more than any of the neighbouring nations\non the continent. But it must not be concealed, that there are likewise\nproofs, that the British race, though much diminished, was not wholly\nextirpated; and that those who remained, were not merely as Britons\nreduced to servitude; for they are mentioned as existing in some of the\nearlier Saxon laws. In these laws they are allowed a compensation on the\nfooting of the meaner kind of English; and they are even permitted, as\nwell as the English, to emerge out of that low rank into a more liberal\ncondition. This is degradation, but not slavery. (Leges Inae 32 de\nCambrico homine agrum possidente. Id. 54.) The affairs of that whole\nperiod are, however, covered with an obscurity not to be dissipated. The\nBritons had little leisure or ability to write a just account of a war\nby which they were ruined; and the Anglo-Saxons, who succeeded them,\nattentive only to arms, were until their conversion, ignorant of the use\nof letters.\n\nIt is on this darkened theatre that some old writers have introduced\nthose characters and actions, which have afforded such ample matter to\npoets, and so much perplexity to historians. This is the fabulous and\nheroic age of our nation. After the natural and just representations of\nthe Roman scene, the stage is again crowded with enchanters, giants, and\nall the extravagant images of the wildest and most remote antiquity. No\npersonage makes so conspicuous a figure in these stories as King Arthur;\na prince, whether of British or Roman origin, whether born on this\nisland or in Armorica, is uncertain; but it appears that he opposed the\nSaxons with remarkable virtue, and no small degree of success, which has\nrendered him and his exploits so large an argument of romance, that both\nare almost disclaimed by history. Light scarce begins to dawn until\nthe introduction of Christianity, which, bringing with it the use of\nletters, and the arts of civil life, affords at once a juster account of\nthings and facts that are more worthy of relation; nor is there, indeed,\nany revolution so remarkable in the English story.\n\nThe bishops of Rome had for sometime meditated the conversion of the\nAnglo-Saxons. Pope Gregory, who is surnamed the Great, affected\nthat pious design with an uncommon zeal; and he at length found a\ncircumstance highly favourable to it in the marriage of a daughter of\nCharibert, a king of the Franks, to the reining monarch of Kent. This\nopportunity induced Pope Gregory to commission Augustin, a monk of\nRheims, and a man of distinguished piety, to undertake this arduous\nenterprise.\n\nIt was in the year of Christ 600, and 150 years after the coming of\nthe first Saxon colonies into England, that Ethelbert, king of Kent,\nreceived intelligence of the arrival in his dominions of a number of men\nin a foreign garb, practising several strange and unusual ceremonies,\nwho desired to be conducted to the king's presence, declaring that\nthey had things to communicate to him and to his people of the utmost\nimportance to their eternal welfare. This was Augustin, with forty of\nthe associates of his mission, who now landed in the Isle of Thanet, the\nsame place by which the Saxons had before entered, when they extirpated\nChristianity.\n\n\n\n\nMINISTERIAL RESPONSIBILITY.\n\nIt is no excuse at all for a minister, who at our desire takes a measure\ncontrary to our safety, that it is our own act. He who does not stay\nthe hand of suicide, is guilty of murder. On our part, I say, that to\nbe instructed, is not to be degraded or enslaved. Information is an\nadvantage to us; and we have a right to demand it. He that is bound to\nact in the dark cannot be said to act freely. When it appears evident to\nour governors that our desires and our interests are at variance, they\nought not to gratify the former at the expense of the latter. Statesmen\nare placed on an eminence, that they may have a larger horizon than\nwe can possibly command. They have a whole before them, which we\ncan contemplate only in the parts, and often without the necessary\nrelations. Ministers are not only our natural rulers but our natural\nguides. Reason clearly and manfully delivered, has in itself a mighty\nforce: but reason in the mouth of legal authority, is, I may fairly\nsay, irresistible. I admit that reason of state will not, in many\ncircumstances, permit the disclosure of the true ground of a public\nproceeding. In that case silence is manly and it is wise. It is fair to\ncall for trust when the principle of reason itself suspends its public\nuse. I take the distinction to be this: The ground of a particular\nmeasure, making a part of a plan, it is rarely proper to divulge;\nall the broader grounds of policy, on which the general plan is to be\nadopted, ought as rarely to be concealed. They, who have not the whole\ncause before them, call them politicians, call them people, call them\nwhat you will, are no judges. The difficulties of the case, as well as\nits fair side, ought to be presented. This ought to be done; and it\nis all that can be done. When we have our true situation distinctly\npresented to us, if then we resolve, with a blind and headlong violence,\nto resist the admonitions of our friends, and to cast ourselves into the\nhands of our potent and irreconcilable foes, then, and not till then,\nthe ministers stand acquitted before God and man, for whatever may come.\n\n\n\n\nMONASTIC INSTITUTIONS AND THEIR RESULTS.\n\nIn the change of religion, care was taken to render the transit from\nfalsehood to truth as little violent as possible. Though the\nfirst proselytes were kings, it does not appear that there was any\npersecution. It was a precept of Pope Gregory, under whose auspices this\nmission was conducted, that the heathen temples should not be destroyed,\nespecially where they were well built; but that, first removing the\nidols, they should be consecrated anew by holier rites, and to better\npurposes (Bed. Hist. Eccl. l. i. c. 30.), in order that the prejudices\nof the people might not be too rudely shocked by a declared profanation\nof what they had so long held sacred; and that everywhere beholding the\nsame places, to which they had formerly resorted for religious comfort,\nthey might be gradually reconciled to the new doctrines and ceremonies\nwhich were there introduced; and as the sacrifices used in the Pagan\nworship were always attended with feasting, and consequently were highly\ngrateful to the multitude, the pope ordered, that oxen should as usual\nbe slaughtered near the church, and the people indulged in their ancient\nfestivity. (Id. c. eod.) Whatever popular customs of heathenism were\nfound to be absolutely not incompatible with Christianity were retained;\nand some of them were continued to a very late period. Deer were at a\ncertain season brought into St. Paul's Church in London, and laid on\nthe altar (Dugdale's History of St. Paul's.); and this custom subsisted\nuntil the Reformation. The names of some of the church festivals were,\nwith a similar design, taken from those of the heathen, which had been\ncelebrated at the same time of the year. Nothing could have been more\nprudent than these regulations; they were indeed formed from a perfect\nunderstanding of human nature.\n\nWhilst the inferior people were thus insensibly led into a better order,\nthe example and countenance of the great completed the work. For the\nSaxon kings and ruling men embraced religion with so signal, and\nin their rank so unusual, a zeal, that in many instances they even\nsacrificed to its advancement the prime objects of their ambition.\nWulfere, king of the West Saxons, bestowed the Isle of Wight on the king\nof Sussex, to persuade him to embrace Christianity. (Bed. Hist. Eccl.\nl. iv. c. 13.) This zeal operated in the same manner in favour of their\ninstructors. The greatest kings and conquerors frequently resigned their\ncrowns, and shut themselves up in monasteries. When kings became monks,\na high lustre was reflected upon the monastic state, and great credit\naccrued to the power of their doctrine, which was able to produce such\nextraordinary effects upon persons, over whom religion has commonly the\nslightest influence.\n\nThe zeal of the missionaries was also much assisted by their superiority\nin the arts of civil life. At their first preaching in Sussex, that\ncountry was reduced to the greatest distress from a drought, which had\ncontinued for three years. The barbarous inhabitants, destitute of\nany means to alleviate the famine, in an epidemic transport of despair\nfrequently united forty and fifty in a body, and joining their hands,\nprecipitated themselves from the cliffs, and were either drowned or\ndashed to pieces on the rocks. Though a maritime people, they knew\nnot how to fish; and this ignorance probably arose from a remnant of\nDruidical superstition, which had forbidden the use of that sort of\ndiet. In this calamity, Bishop Wilfred, their first preacher, collecting\nnets, at the head of his attendants, plunged into the sea; and having\nopened this great resource of food, he reconciled the desperate people\nto life, and their minds to the spiritual care of those who had shown\nthemselves so attentive to their temporal preservation. (Bed. Hist.\nEccl. l. iv. c. 13.) The same regard to the welfare of the people\nappeared in all their actions. The Christian kings sometimes made\ndonations to the church of lands conquered from their heathen enemies.\nThe clergy immediately baptized and manumitted their new vassals. Thus\nthey endeared to all sorts of men doctrines and teachers, which could\nmitigate the rigorous law of conquest; and they rejoiced to see religion\nand liberty advancing with an equal progress. Nor were the monks in\nthis time in anything more worthy of their praise than in their zeal\nfor personal freedom. In the canon, wherein they provided against the\nalienation of their lands, among other charitable exceptions to this\nrestraint, they particularize the purchase of liberty. (Spelm. Concil.\nPage 329.) In their transactions with the great the same point was\nalways strenuously laboured. When they imposed penance, they were\nremarkably indulgent to persons of that rank. But they always made them\npurchase the remission of corporal austerity by acts of beneficence.\nThey urged their powerful penitents to the enfranchisement of their own\nslaves, and to the redemption of those which belonged to others; they\ndirected them to the repair of highways, and to the construction of\nchurches, bridges, and other works of general utility. (Instauret\netiam Dei ecclesiam; et instauret vias publicas, pontibus super aquas\nprofundas et super caenosas vias; et manumittat servos suos proprios, et\nredimat ab aliis hominibus servos suos ad libertatem.--L. Eccl. Edgari\n14.) They extracted the fruits of virtue even from crimes, and whenever\na great man expiated his private offences, he provided in the same act\nfor the public happiness. The monasteries were then the only bodies\ncorporate in the kingdom; and if any persons were desirous to perpetuate\ntheir charity by a fund for the relief of the sick or indigent, there\nwas no other way than to confide this trust to some monastery. The monks\nwere the sole channel, through which the bounty of the rich could pass\nin any continued stream to the poor; and the people turned their eyes\ntowards them in all their distresses.\n\nWe must observe, that the monks of that time, especially those from\nIreland (Aidanus Finam et Colmanus mirae sanctitatis fuerunt et\nparsimoniae. Adeo enim sacerdotes erant illius temporis ab avaritia\nimmunes, ut nec territoria nisi coacti acciperent.--Hen. Hunting. apud\nDecem. l. iii. page 333. Bed. Hist. Eccl. l. iii. c. 26.), who had a\nconsiderable share in the conversion of all the northern parts, did not\nshow that rapacious desire of riches, which long disgraced, and finally\nruined, their successors. Not only did they not seek, but seemed even to\nshun, such donations. This prevented that alarm, which might have arisen\nfrom an early and declared avarice. At this time the most fervent and\nholy anchorites retired to places the furthest that could be found from\nhuman concourse and help, to the most desolate and barren situations,\nwhich even from their horror seemed particularly adapted to men who had\nrenounced the world. Many persons followed them in order to partake\nof their instructions and prayers, or to form themselves upon their\nexample. An opinion of their miracles after their death drew still\ngreater numbers. Establishments were gradually made. The monastic life\nwas frugal, and the government moderate. These causes drew a constant\nconcourse. Sanctified deserts assumed a new face; the marshes were\ndrained, and the lands cultivated. And as this revolution seemed rather\nthe effect of the holiness of the place than of any natural causes,\nit increased their credit; and every improvement drew with it a new\ndonation. In this manner the great abbeys of Croyland and Glastonbury,\nand many others, from the most obscure beginnings, were advanced to a\ndegree of wealth and splendour little less than royal. In these rude\nages, government was not yet fixed upon solid principles, and everything\nwas full of tumult and distraction. As the monasteries were better\nsecured from violence by their character, than any other places by laws,\nseveral great men, and even sovereign princes, were obliged to take\nrefuge in convents, who, when by a more happy revolution in their\nfortunes they were reinstated in their former dignities, thought they\ncould never make a sufficient return for the safety they had enjoyed\nunder the sacred hospitality of these roofs. Not content to enrich them\nwith ample possessions, that others also might partake of the protection\nthey had experienced, they formally erected into an asylum those\nmonasteries, and their adjacent territory. So that all thronged to that\nrefuge, who were rendered unquiet by their crimes, their misfortunes, or\nthe severity of their lords; and content to live under a government,\nto which their minds were subject, they raised the importance of their\nmasters by their numbers, their labour, and above all, by an inviolable\nattachment.\n\nThe monastery was always the place of sepulture for the greatest\nlords and kings. This added to the other causes of reverence a sort of\nsanctity, which, in universal opinion, always attends the repositories\nof the dead; and they acquired also thereby a more particular protection\nagainst the great and powerful; for who would violate the tomb of his\nancestors, or his own? It was not an unnatural weakness to think, that\nsome advantage might be derived from lying in holy places, and amongst\nholy persons: and this superstition was fomented with the greatest\nindustry and art. The monks of Glastonbury spread a notion, that it was\nalmost impossible any person should be damned, whose body lay in their\ncemetery. This must be considered as coming in aid of the amplest of\ntheir resources, prayer for the dead.\n\nBut there was no part of their policy, of whatever nature, that procured\nto them a greater or juster credit, than their cultivation of learning\nand useful arts. For if the monks contributed to the fall of science in\nthe Roman empire, it is certain, that the introduction of learning and\ncivility into this northern world is entirely owing to their labours.\nIt is true, that they cultivated letters only in a secondary way, and as\nsubsidiary to religion. But the scheme of Christianity is such, that\nit almost necessitates an attention to many kinds of learning. For\nthe Scripture is by no means an irrelative system of moral and divine\ntruths; but it stands connected with so many histories, and with the\nlaws, opinions, and manners of so many various sorts of people, and in\nsuch different times, that it is altogether impossible to arrive to\nany tolerable knowledge of it, without having recourse to much exterior\ninquiry. For which reason the progress of this religion has always been\nmarked by that of letters. There were two other circumstances at this\ntime, that contributed no less to the revival of learning. The sacred\nwritings had not been translated into any vernacular language, and even\nthe ordinary service of the church was still continued in the Latin\ntongue; all, therefore, who formed themselves for the ministry, and\nhoped to make any figure in it, were in a manner driven to the study\nof the writers of polite antiquity, in order to qualify themselves\nfor their most ordinary functions. By this means a practice, liable in\nitself to great objections, had a considerable share in preserving the\nwrecks of literature; and was one means of conveying down to our times\nthose inestimable monuments, which otherwise, in the tumult of barbarous\nconfusion on one hand, and untaught piety on the other, must inevitably\nhave perished. The second circumstance, the pilgrimages of that age, if\nconsidered in itself, was as liable to objection as the former; but it\nproved of equal advantage to the cause of literature. A principal object\nof these pious journeys was Rome, which contained all the little that\nwas left in the western world, of ancient learning and taste. The other\ngreat object of those pilgrimages was Jerusalem; this led them into the\nGrecian empire, which still subsisted in the East with great majesty\nand power. Here the Greeks had not only not discontinued the ancient\nstudies, but they added to the stock of arts many inventions of\ncuriosity and convenience that were unknown to antiquity. When,\nafterwards, the Saracens prevailed in that part of the world, the\npilgrims had also, by the same means, an opportunity of profiting\nfrom the improvements of that laborious people; and however little the\nmajority of these pious travellers might have had such objects in\ntheir view, something useful must unavoidably have stuck to them; a\nfew certainly saw with more discernment, and rendered their travels\nserviceable to their country by importing other things besides miracles\nand legends. Thus a communication was opened between this remote island\nand countries, of which it otherwise could then scarcely have heard\nmention made; and pilgrimages thus preserved that intercourse amongst\nmankind, which is now formed by politics, commerce, and learned\ncuriosity. It is not wholly unworthy of observation, that Providence,\nwhich strongly appears to have intended the continual intermixture of\nmankind, never leaves the human mind destitute of a principle to\neffect it. This purpose is sometimes carried on by a sort of migratory\ninstinct, sometimes by the spirit of conquest; at one time avarice\ndrives men from their homes, at another they are actuated by a thirst\nof knowledge; where none of these causes can operate, the sanctity of\nparticular places attracts men from the most distant quarters. It was\nthis motive which sent thousands in those ages to Jerusalem and Rome;\nand now, in a full tide, impels half the world annually to Mecca.\n\nBy those voyages, the seeds of various kinds of knowledge and\nimprovement were at different times imported into England. They were\ncultivated in the leisure and retirement of monasteries; otherwise they\ncould not have been cultivated at all: for it was altogether necessary\nto draw certain men from the general rude and fierce society, and wholly\nto set a bar between them and the barbarous life of the rest of the\nworld, in order to fit them for study, and the cultivation of arts and\nscience. Accordingly, we find everywhere, in the first institutions\nfor the propagation of knowledge amongst any people, that those, who\nfollowed it, were set apart and secluded from the mass of the community.\n\nThe great ecclesiastical chair of this kingdom, for near a century, was\nfilled by foreigners; they were nominated by the popes, who were in that\nage just or politic enough to appoint persons of a merit in some degree\nadequate to that important charge. Through this series of foreign and\nlearned prelates, continual accessions were made to the originally\nslender stock of English literature. The greatest and most valuable of\nthese accessions was made in the time and by the care of Theodorus, the\nseventh archbishop of Canterbury. He was a Greek by birth; a man of a\nhigh ambitious spirit, and of a mind more liberal, and talents better\ncultivated, than generally fell to the lot of the western prelates. He\nfirst introduced the study of his native language into this island.\nHe brought with him a number of valuable books in many faculties; and\namongst them a magnificent copy of the works of Homer; the most ancient\nand best of poets, and the best chosen to inspire a people, just\ninitiated into letters, with an ardent love, and with a true taste for\nthe sciences. Under his influence a school was formed at Canterbury; and\nthus the other great fountain of knowledge, the Greek tongue, was opened\nin England in the year of our Lord 669.\n\n\n\n\nCOMMON LAW AND MAGNA CHARTA.\n\nThe common law, as it then prevailed in England, was in a great measure\ncomposed of some remnants of the old Saxon customs, joined to the feudal\ninstitutions brought in at the Norman conquest. And it is here to be\nobserved, that the constitutions of Magna Charta are by no means a\nrenewal of the laws of St. Edward, or the ancient Saxon laws, as our\nhistorians and law-writers generally, though very groundlessly, assert.\nThey bear no resemblance, in any particular, to the laws of St. Edward,\nor to any other collection of these ancient institutions. Indeed, how\nshould they? The object of Magna Charta is the correction of the feudal\npolicy, which was first introduced, at least in any regular form, at\nthe Conquest, and did not subsist before it. It may be further observed,\nthat in the preamble to the Great Charter it is stipulated, that the\nbarons shall HOLD the liberties, there granted TO THEM AND THEIR HEIRS,\nfrom THE KING AND HIS HEIRS; which shows, that the doctrine of an\nunalienable tenure was always uppermost in their minds. Their idea even\nof liberty was not (if I may use the expression) perfectly free;\nand they did not claim to possess their privileges upon any natural\nprinciple or independent bottom, but, just as they held their lands,\nfrom the king. This is worthy of observation. By the feudal law all\nlanded property is, by a feigned conclusion, supposed to be derived, and\ntherefore to be mediately or immediately held, from the Crown. If some\nestates were so derived, others were certainly procured by the same\noriginal title of conquest, by which the crown itself was acquired; and\nthe derivation from the king could in reason only be considered as a\nfiction of law. But its consequent rights being once supposed, many real\ncharges and burthens grew from a fiction made only for the preservation\nof subordination; and in consequence of this, a great power was\nexercised over the persons and estates of the tenants. The fines on the\nsuccession to an estate, called in the feudal language \"Reliefs,\"\nwere not fixed to any certainty; and were therefore frequently made so\nexcessive, that they might rather be considered as redemptions, or new\npurchases, than acknowledgments of superiority and tenure. With respect\nto that most important article of marriage, there was, in the very\nnature of the feudal holding, a great restraint laid upon it. It was of\nimportance to the lord, that the person, who received the feud, should\nbe submissive to him; he had therefore a right to interfere in the\nmarriage of the heiress, who inherited the feud. This right was carried\nfurther than the necessity required; the male heir himself was obliged\nto marry according to the choice of his lord: and even widows, who\nhad made one sacrifice to the feudal tyranny, were neither suffered to\ncontinue in the widowed state, nor to choose for themselves the partners\nof their second bed. In fact, marriage was publicly set up to sale. The\nancient records of the exchequer afford many instances where some women\npurchased, by heavy fines, the privilege of a single life; some the\nfree choice of a husband; others the liberty of rejecting some person\nparticularly disagreeable. And, what may appear extraordinary, there\nare not wanting examples, where a woman has fined in a considerable sum,\nthat she might not be compelled to marry a certain man; the suitor\non the other hand has outbid her; and solely by offering more for the\nmarriage than the heiress could to prevent it, he carried his point\ndirectly and avowedly against her inclinations. Now, as the king claimed\nno right over his immediate tenants, that they did not exercise in the\nsame, or in a more oppressive manner over their vassals, it is hard to\nconceive a more general and cruel grievance than this shameful market,\nwhich so universally outraged the most sacred relations among mankind.\nBut the tyranny over women was not over with the marriage. As the king\nseized into his hands the estate of every deceased tenant in order to\nsecure his relief, the widow was driven often by a heavy composition to\npurchase the admission to her dower, into which it should seem she could\nnot enter without the king's consent.\n\nAll these were marks of a real and grievous servitude. The Great\nCharter was made not to destroy the root, but to cut short the overgrown\nbranches, of the feudal service; first, in moderating, and in reducing\nto a certainty, the reliefs, which the king's tenants paid on succeeding\nto their estate according to their rank; and secondly, in taking\noff some of the burthens, which had been laid on marriage, whether\ncompulsory or restrictive, and thereby preventing that shameful market,\nwhich had been made in the persons of heirs, and the most sacred things\namongst mankind.\n\nThere were other provisions made in the Great Charter, that went\ndeeper than the feudal tenure, and affected the whole body of the civil\ngovernment. A great part of the king's revenue then consisted in the\nfines and amercements, which were imposed in his courts. A fine was paid\nthere for liberty to commence, or to conclude a suit. The punishment\nof offences by fine was discretionary; and this discretionary power had\nbeen very much abused. But by Magna Charta things were so ordered, that\na delinquent might be punished, but not ruined, by a fine or amercement,\nbecause the degree of his offence, and the rank he held, were to be\ntaken into consideration. His freehold, his merchandise, and those\ninstruments, by which he obtained his livelihood, were made sacred\nfrom such impositions. A more grand reform was made with regard to the\nadministration of justice. The kings in those days seldom resided long\nin one place, and their courts followed their persons. This erratic\njustice must have been productive of infinite inconvenience to the\nlitigants. It was now provided, that civil suits, called COMMON PLEAS,\nshould be fixed to some certain place. Thus one branch of jurisdiction\nwas separated from the king's court, and detached from his person. They\nhad not yet come to that maturity of jurisprudence as to think this\nmight be made to extend to criminal law also; and that the latter was\nan object of still greater importance. But even the former may be\nconsidered as a great revolution. A tribunal, a creature of mere law,\nindependent of personal power, was established, and this separation of\na king's authority from his person was a matter of vast consequence\ntowards introducing ideas of freedom, and confirming the sacredness and\nmajesty of laws.\n\nBut the grand article, and that which cemented all the parts of\nthe fabric of liberty, was this: \"that no freeman shall be taken or\nimprisoned, or disseized, or outlawed, or banished, or in any wise\ndestroyed, but by judgment of his peers.\"\n\nThere is another article of nearly as much consequence as the former,\nconsidering the state of the nation at that time, by which it is\nprovided, that the barons shall grant to their tenants the same\nliberties which they had stipulated for themselves. This prevented the\nkingdom from degenerating into the worst imaginable government, a feudal\naristocracy. The English barons were not in the condition of those\ngreat princes, who had made the French monarchy so low in the preceding\ncentury; or like those, who reduced the imperial power to a name. They\nhad been brought to moderate bounds by the policy of the first\nand second Henrys, and were not in a condition to set up for petty\nsovereigns by an usurpation equally detrimental to the Crown and the\npeople. They were able to act only in confederacy; and this common cause\nmade it necessary to consult the common good, and to study popularity by\nthe equity of their proceedings. This was a very happy circumstances to\nthe growing liberty.\n\n\n\n\nEUROPE AND THE NORMAN INVASION.\n\nBefore the period of which we are going to treat, England was little\nknown or considered in Europe. Their situation, their domestic\ncalamities, and their ignorance, circumscribed the views and politics\nof the English within the bounds of their own island. But the Norman\nconqueror threw down all these barriers. The English laws, manners,\nand maxims, were suddenly changed; the scene was enlarged; and the\ncommunication with the rest of Europe being thus opened, has been\npreserved ever since in a continued series of wars and negotiations.\nThat we may therefore enter more fully into the matters which lie before\nus, it is necessary that we understand the state of the neighbouring\ncontinent at the time when this island first came to be interested in\nits affairs.\n\nThe northern nations, who had overrun the Roman empire, were at first\nrather actuated by avarice than ambition, and were more intent upon\nplunder than conquest; they were carried beyond their original purposes,\nwhen they began to form regular governments, for which they had been\nprepared by no just ideas of legislation. For a long time, therefore,\nthere was little of order in their affairs, or foresight in their\ndesigns. The Goths, the Burgundians, the Franks, the Vandals, the Suevi,\nafter they had prevailed over the Roman empire, by turns prevailed over\neach other in continual wars, which were carried on upon no principles\nof a determinate policy, entered into upon motives of brutality and\ncaprice, and ended as fortune and rude violence chanced to prevail.\nTumult, anarchy, confusion, overspread the face of Europe; and an\nobscurity rests upon the transactions of that time, which suffers us to\ndiscover nothing but its extreme barbarity.\n\nBefore this cloud could be dispersed, the Saracens, another body of\nbarbarians from the south, animated by a fury not unlike that, which\ngave strength to the northern irruptions, but heightened by enthusiasm,\nand regulated by subordination and uniform policy, began to carry their\narms, their manners, and religion into every part of the universe. Spain\nwas entirely overwhelmed by the torrent of their armies; Italy, and the\nislands, were harassed by their fleets, and all Europe alarmed by\ntheir vigorous and frequent enterprises. Italy, who had so long sat\nthe mistress of the world, was by turns the slave of all nations. The\npossession of that fine country was hotly disputed between the Greek\nemperor and the Lombards, and it suffered infinitely by that contention.\nGermany, the parent of so many nations, was exhausted by the swarms\nshe had sent abroad. However, in the midst of this chaos there were\nprinciples at work, which reduced things to a certain form, and\ngradually unfolded a system, in which the chief movers and main springs\nwere the papal and the imperial powers; the aggrandisement or diminution\nof which have been the drift of almost all the politics, intrigues, and\nwars, which have employed and distracted Europe to this day.\n\nFrom Rome the whole western world had received its Christianity. She was\nthe asylum of what learning had escaped the general desolation; and\neven in her ruins she preserved something of the majesty of her ancient\ngreatness. On these accounts she had a respect and a weight, which\nincreased every day amongst a simple religious people, who looked but a\nlittle way into the consequences of their actions. The rudeness of the\nworld was very favourable for the establishment of an empire of opinion.\nThe moderation with which the popes at first exerted this empire, made\nits growth unfelt until it could no longer be opposed. And the policy of\nlater popes, building on the piety of the first, continually increased\nit; and they made use of every instrument but that of force. They\nemployed equally the virtues and the crimes of the great; they favoured\nthe lust of kings for absolute authority, and the desire of subjects for\nliberty; they provoked war, and mediated peace; and took advantage of\nevery turn in the minds of men, whether of a public or private nature,\nto extend their influence, and push their power from ecclesiastical to\ncivil; from subjection to independency; from independency to empire.\n\nFrance had many advantages over the other parts of Europe. The Saracens\nhad no permanent success in that country. The same hand, which expelled\nthose invaders, deposed the last of a race of heavy and degenerate\nprinces, more like eastern monarchs than German leaders, and who had\nneither the force to repel the enemies of their kingdom, nor to assert\ntheir own sovereignty. This usurpation placed on the throne princes of\nanother character; princes, who were obliged to supply their want of\ntitle by the vigour of their administration. The French monarch had\nneed of some great and respected authority to throw a veil over his\nusurpation, and to sanctify his newly-acquired power by those names and\nappearances, which are necessary to make it respectable to the people.\nOn the other hand, the pope, who hated the Grecian empire, and equally\nfeared the success of the Lombards, saw with joy this new star arise in\nthe north, and gave it the sanction of his authority. Presently after he\ncalled it to his assistance. Pepin passed the Alps, relieved the pope,\nand invested him with the dominion of a large country in the best part\nof Italy.\n\nCharlemagne pursued the course which was marked out for him, and put an\nend to the Lombard kingdom, weakened by the policy of his father, and\nthe enmity of the popes, who never willingly saw a strong power in\nItaly. Then he received from the hand of the pope the imperial crown,\nsanctified by the authority of the Holy See, and with it the title of\nemperor of the Romans; a name venerable from the fame of the old empire,\nand which was supposed to carry great and unknown prerogatives; and\nthus the empire rose again out of its ruins in the West; and what is\nremarkable, by means of one of those nations which had helped to destroy\nit. If we take in the conquests of Charlemagne, it was also very near as\nextensive as formerly; though its constitution was altogether different,\nas being entirely on the northern model of government.\n\nFrom Charlemagne the pope received in return an enlargement and a\nconfirmation of his new territory. Thus the papal and imperial powers\nmutually gave birth to each other. They continued for some ages, and,\nin some measure, still continue closely connected, with a variety of\npretensions upon each other, and on the rest of Europe. Though the\nimperial power had its origin in France, it was soon divided into two\nbranches, the Gallic and the German. The latter alone supported the\ntitle of empire; but the power being weakened by this division, the\npapal pretensions had the greater weight. The pope, because he first\nrevived the imperial dignity, claimed a right of disposing of it, or at\nleast of giving validity to the election of the emperor. The emperor, on\nthe other hand, remembering the rights of those sovereigns, whose title\nhe bore, and how lately the power, which insulted him with such demands,\nhad arisen from the bounty of his predecessors, claimed the same\nprivileges in the election of a pope. The claims of both were somewhat\nplausible; and they were supported, the one by force of arms, and the\nother by ecclesiastical influence, powers which in those days were\nvery nearly balanced. Italy was the theatre upon which this prize was\ndisputed. In every city the parties in favour of each of the opponents\nwere not far from an equality in their numbers and strength. Whilst\nthese parties disagreed in the choice of a master, by contending for a\nchoice in their subjection, they grew imperceptibly into freedom,\nand passed through the medium of faction and anarchy into regular\ncommonwealths. Thus arose the republics of Venice, of Genoa, of\nFlorence, Sienna, and Pisa, and several others. These cities,\nestablished in this freedom, turned the frugal and ingenious spirit\ncontracted in such communities to navigation and traffic; and pursuing\nthem with skill and vigour, whilst commerce was neglected and despised\nby the rustic gentry of the martial governments, they grew to a\nconsiderable degree of wealth, power, and civility.\n\nThe Danes, who in this latter time preserved the spirit and the numbers\nof the ancient Gothic people, had seated themselves in England, in the\nLow Countries, and in Normandy. They passed from thence to the southern\npart of Europe, and in this romantic age gave rise in Sicily and Naples\nto a new kingdom, and a new line of princes.\n\nAll the kingdoms on the continent of Europe were governed nearly in the\nsame form; from whence arose a great similitude in the manners of their\ninhabitants. The feodal discipline extended itself everywhere, and\ninfluenced the conduct of the courts, and the manners of the people,\nwith its own irregular martial spirit. Subjects, under the complicated\nlaws of a various and rigorous servitude, exercised all the prerogatives\nof sovereign power. They distributed justice, they made war and peace at\npleasure. The sovereign, with great pretensions, had but little power;\nhe was only a greater lord among great lords, who profited of the\ndifferences of his peers; therefore no steady plan could be well\npursued, either in war or peace. This day a prince seemed irresistible\nat the head of his numerous vassals, because their duty obliged them to\nwar, and they performed this duty with pleasure. The next day saw this\nformidable power vanish like a dream, because this fierce undisciplined\npeople had no patience, and the time of the feudal service was contained\nwithin very narrow limits. It was therefore easy to find a number of\npersons at all times ready to follow any standard, but it was hard to\ncomplete a considerable design, which required a regular and continued\nmovement. This enterprising disposition in the gentry was very general,\nbecause they had little occupation or pleasure but in war; and the\ngreatest rewards did then attend personal valour and prowess. All that\nprofessed arms, became in some sort on an equality. A knight was the\npeer of a king; and men had been used to see the bravery of private\npersons opening a road to that dignity. The temerity of adventurers was\nmuch justified by the ill order of every state, which left it a prey\nto almost any who should attack it with sufficient vigour. Thus, little\nchecked by any superior power, full of fire, impetuosity, and ignorance,\nthey longed to signalize themselves wherever an honourable danger called\nthem; and wherever that invited, they did not weigh very deliberately\nthe probability of success. The knowledge of this general disposition\nin the minds of men will naturally remove a great deal of our wonder\nat seeing an attempt, founded on such slender appearances of right, and\nsupported by a power so little proportioned to the undertaking as that\nof William, so warmly embraced and so generally followed, not only by\nhis own subjects, but by all the neighbouring potentates. The counts\nof Anjou, Bretagne, Ponthieu, Boulogne, and Poictou, sovereign princes;\nadventurers from every quarter of France, the Netherlands, and the\nremotest parts of Germany, laying aside their jealousies and enmities\nto one another, as well as to William, ran with an inconceivable ardour\ninto this enterprise; captivated with the splendour of the object, which\nobliterated all thoughts of the uncertainty of the event. William kept\nup this fervour by promises of large territories to all his allies and\nassociates in the country to be reduced by their united efforts. But\nafter all it became equally necessary to reconcile to his enterprise the\nthree great powers, of whom we have just spoken, whose disposition must\nhave had the most influence on his affairs.\n\nHis feudal lord the king of France was bound by his most obvious\ninterests to oppose the further aggrandisement of one already too potent\nfor a vassal; but the king of France was then a minor; and Baldwin,\nearl of Flanders, whose daughter William had married, was regent of\nthe kingdom. This circumstance rendered the remonstrance of the French\ncouncil against his design of no effect; indeed the opposition of the\ncouncil itself was faint; the idea of having a king under vassalage to\ntheir crown might have dazzled the more superficial courtiers; whilst\nthose, who thought more deeply, were unwilling to discourage an\nenterprise, which they believed would probably end in the ruin of the\nundertaker. The emperor was in his minority, as well as the king of\nFrance; but by what arts the duke prevailed upon the imperial council to\ndeclare in his favour, whether or no by an idea of creating a balance\nto the power of France, if we can imagine that any such idea then\nsubsisted, is altogether uncertain; but it is certain, that he obtained\nleave for the vassals of the empire to engage in his service, and that\nhe made use of this permission. The pope's consent was obtained with\nstill less difficulty. William had shown himself in many instances a\nfriend to the church, and a favourer of the clergy. On this occasion he\npromised to improve those happy beginnings in proportion to the means\nhe should acquire by the favour of the Holy See. It is said that he\neven proposed to hold his new kingdom as a fief from Rome. The pope,\ntherefore, entered heartily into his interests; he excommunicated all\nthose that should oppose his enterprise, and sent him, as a means of\nensuring success, a consecrated banner.\n\n\n\n\nANCIENT INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN.\n\nThat Britain was first peopled from Gaul, we are assured by the best\nproofs: proximity of situation, and resemblance in language and manners.\nOf the time in which this event happened, we must be contented to remain\nin ignorance, for we have no monuments. But we may conclude that it was\na very ancient settlement, since the Carthaginians found this island\ninhabited when they traded hither for tin; as the Phoenicians, whose\ntracks they followed in this commerce, are said to have done long before\nthem. It is true, that when we consider the short interval between\nthe universal deluge and that period, and compare it with the first\nsettlement of men at such a distance from this corner of the world, it\nmay seem not easy to reconcile such a claim to antiquity with the\nonly authentic account we have of the origin and progress of mankind;\nespecially as in those early ages the whole face of nature was extremely\nrude and uncultivated; when the links of commerce, even in the countries\nfirst settled, were few and weak; navigation imperfect; geography\nunknown; and the hardships of travelling excessive. But the spirit of\nmigration, of which we have now only some faint ideas, was then strong\nand universal; and it fully compensated all these disadvantages.\nMany writers indeed imagine, that these migrations, so common in the\nprimitive times, were caused by the prodigious increase of people beyond\nwhat their several territories could maintain. But this opinion, far\nfrom being supported, is rather contradicted by the general appearance\nof things in that early time, when in every country vast tracts of land\nwere suffered to lie almost useless in morasses and forests. Nor is\nit, indeed, more countenanced by the ancient modes of life, no\nway favourable to population. I apprehend that these first settled\ncountries, so far from being overstocked with inhabitants, were\nrather thinly peopled; and that the same causes, which occasioned that\nthinness, occasioned also those frequent migrations, which make so large\na part of the first history of almost all nations. For in these ages men\nsubsisted chiefly by pasturage or hunting. These are occupations which\nspread the people without multiplying them in proportion; they teach\nthem an extensive knowledge of the country, they carry them frequently\nand far from their homes, and weaken those ties which might attach them\nto any particular habitation.\n\nIt was in a great degree from this manner of life, that mankind became\nscattered in the earliest times over the whole globe. But their peaceful\noccupations did not contribute so much to that end, as their wars, which\nwere not the less frequent and violent because the people were few, and\nthe interests for which they contended of but small importance. Ancient\nhistory has furnished us with many instances of whole nations,\nexpelled by invasion, falling in upon others, which they have entirely\noverwhelmed; more irresistible in their defeat and ruin than in their\nfullest prosperity. The rights of war were then exercised with great\ninhumanity. A cruel death, or a servitude scarcely less cruel, was the\ncertain fate of all conquered people; the terror of which hurried\nmen from habitations to which they were but little attached, to seek\nsecurity and repose under any climate, that however in other respects\nundesirable, might afford them refuge from the fury of their enemies.\nThus the bleak and barren regions of the north, not being peopled by\nchoice, were peopled as early, in all probability, as many of the\nmilder and more inviting climates of the southern world, and thus, by a\nwonderful disposition of the Divine Providence, a life of hunting, which\ndoes not contribute to increase, and war, which is the great instrument\nin the destruction of men, were the two principal causes of their being\nspread so early and so universally over the whole earth. From what is\nvery commonly known of the state of North America, it need not be\nsaid, how often, and to what distance, several of the nations on that\ncontinent are used to migrate; who, though thinly scattered, occupy an\nimmense extent of country. Nor are the causes of it less obvious--their\nhunting life, and their inhuman wars.\n\nSuch migrations, sometimes by choice, more frequently from necessity,\nwere common in the ancient world. Frequent necessities introduced a\nfashion, which subsisted after the original causes. For how could it\nhappen, but from some universally established public prejudice, which\nalways overrules and stifles the private sense of men, that a whole\nnation should deliberately think it a wise measure to quit their country\nin a body, that they might obtain in a foreign land a settlement, which\nmust wholly depend upon the chance of war? Yet this resolution was\ntaken, and actually pursued by the entire nation of the Helvetii, as it\nis minutely related by Caesar. The method of reasoning which led them to\nit, must appear to us at this day utterly inconceivable; they were far\nfrom being compelled to this extraordinary migration by any want of\nsubsistence at home; for it appears that they raised without difficulty\nas much corn in one year as supported them for two; they could not\ncomplain of the barrenness of such a soil.\n\nThis spirit of migration, which grew out of the ancient manners and\nnecessities, and sometimes operated like a blind instinct, such as\nactuates birds of passage, is very sufficient to account for the early\nhabitation of the remotest parts of the earth; and in some sort also\njustifies that claim which has been so fondly made by almost all nations\nto great antiquity. Gaul, from whence Britain was originally peopled,\nconsisted of three nations; the Belgae towards the north; the Celtae in\nthe middle countries; and the Aquitani to the south. Britain appears to\nhave received its people only from the two former. From the Celtae\nwere derived the most ancient tribes of the Britons, of which the most\nconsiderable were called Brigantes. The Belgae, who did not even settle\nin Gaul until after Britain had been peopled by colonies from the\nformer, forcibly drove the Brigantes into the inland countries, and\npossessed the greatest part of the coast, especially to the south and\nwest. These latter, as they entered the island in a more improved age,\nbrought with them the knowledge and practice of agriculture, which\nhowever only prevailed in their own countries; the Brigantes still\ncontinued their ancient way of life by pasturage and hunting. In this\nrespect alone they differed; so that what we shall say in treating of\ntheir manners is equally applicable to both. And though the Britons\nwere further divided into an innumerable multitude of lesser tribes and\nnations, yet all being the branches of these two stocks, it is not to\nour purpose to consider them more minutely.\n\nBritain was in the time of Julius Caesar, what it is at this day in\nclimate and natural advantages, temperate, and reasonably fertile. But\ndestitute of all those improvements, which in a succession of ages it\nhas received from ingenuity, from commerce, from riches and luxury, it\nthen wore a very rough and savage appearance. The country, forest or\nmarsh; the habitations, cottages; the cities, hiding-places in woods;\nthe people, naked, or only covered with skins; their sole employment,\npasturage and hunting. They painted their bodies for ornament or terror,\nby a custom general among all savage nations; who being passionately\nfond of show and finery, and having no object but their naked bodies\non which to exercise this disposition, have in all times painted or cut\ntheir skins, according to their ideas of ornament. They shaved the beard\non the chin; that on the upper lip was suffered to remain, and grow to\nan extraordinary length, to favour the martial appearance, in which they\nplaced their glory. They were in their natural temper not unlike the\nGauls; impatient, fiery, inconstant, ostentatious, boastful, fond of\nnovelty; and like all barbarians, fierce, treacherous, and cruel. Their\narms were short javelins, small shields of a slight texture, and great\ncutting swords with a blunt point, after the Gaulish fashion.\n\nTheir chiefs went to battle in chariots, not unartfully contrived, nor\nunskilfully managed. I cannot help thinking it something extraordinary,\nand not easily to be accounted for, that the Britons should have been so\nexpert in the fabric of those chariots, when they seem utterly ignorant\nin all other mechanic arts: but thus it is delivered to us. They had\nalso horse, though of no great reputation in their armies. Their\nfoot was without heavy armour; it was no firm body; nor instructed\nto preserve their ranks, to make their evolutions, or to obey their\ncommanders; but in tolerating hardships, in dexterity of forming\nambuscades (the art military of savages), they are said to have\nexcelled. A natural ferocity, and an impetuous onset, stood them in the\nplace of discipline.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLIC PROSECUTIONS.\n\nPublic prosecutions are become little better than schools for treason;\nof no use but to improve the dexterity of criminals in the mystery of\nevasion; or to show with what complete impunity men may conspire against\nthe commonwealth; with what safety assassins may attempt its awful head.\nEverything is secure, except what the laws have made sacred; everything\nis tameness and languor that is not fury and faction. Whilst the\ndistempers of a relaxed fibre prognosticate and prepare all the morbid\nforce of convulsion in the body of the state, the steadiness of the\nphysician is overpowered by the very aspect of the disease. The doctor\nof the constitution, pretending to underrate what he is not able to\ncontend with, shrinks from his own operation. He doubts and questions\nthe salutary but critical terrors of the cautery and the knife. He takes\na poor credit even from his defeat, and covers impotence under the mask\nof lenity. He praises the moderation of the laws, as, in his hands,\nhe sees them baffled and despised. Is all this, because in our day the\nstatutes of the kingdom are not engrossed in as firm a character, and\nimprinted in as black and legible a type as ever? No! the law is a\nclear, but it is a dead letter. Dead and putrid, it is insufficient to\nsave the state, but potent to infect and to kill. Living law, full of\nreason, and of equity and justice (as it is, or it should not exist),\nought to be severe and awful too; or the words of menace, whether\nwritten on the parchment roll of England, or cut into the brazen tablet\nof Rome, will excite nothing but contempt. How comes it, that in all the\nstate prosecutions of magnitude, from the Revolution to within these\ntwo or three years, the Crown has scarcely ever retired disgraced and\ndefeated from its courts? Whence this alarming change? By a connection\neasily felt, and not impossible to be traced to its cause, all the parts\nof the state have their correspondence and consent. They who bow to the\nenemy abroad, will not be of power to subdue the conspirator at home. It\nis impossible not to observe, that, in proportion as we approximate to\nthe poisonous jaws of anarchy, the fascination grows irresistible.\nIn proportion as we are attracted towards the focus of illegality,\nirreligion, and desperate enterprise, all the venomous and blighting\ninsects of the state are awakened into life. The promise of the year is\nblasted, and shrivelled and burned up before them. Our most salutary and\nmost beautiful institutions yield nothing but dust and smut; the\nharvest of our law is no more than stubble. It is in the nature of these\neruptive diseases in the state to sink in by fits, and re-appear. But\nthe fuel of the malady remains; and in my opinion is not in the smallest\ndegree mitigated in its malignity, though it waits the favourable moment\nof a freer communication with the source of regicide to exert and to\nincrease its force.\n\nIs it that the people are changed, that the commonwealth cannot be\nprotected by its laws? I hardly think it. On the contrary, I conceive\nthat these things happen because men are not changed, but remain always\nwhat they always were; they remain what the bulk of us ever must be,\nwhen abandoned to our vulgar propensities, without guide, leader, or\ncontrol; that is, made to be full of a blind elevation in prosperity; to\ndespise untried dangers; to be overpowered with unexpected reverses;\nto find no clue in a labyrinth of difficulties, to get out of a present\ninconvenience with any risk of future ruin; to follow and to bow to\nfortune; to admire successful though wicked enterprise, and to imitate\nwhat we admire; to contemn the government which announces danger from\nsacrilege and regicide, whilst they are only in their infancy and their\nstruggle, but which finds nothing that can alarm in their adult state,\nand in the power and triumph of those destructive principles. In a\nmass we cannot be left to ourselves. We must have leaders. If none will\nundertake to lead us right, we shall find guides who will contrive to\nconduct us to shame and ruin.\n\n\n\n\nTRUE NATURE OF A JACOBIN WAR.\n\nAs to me, I was always steadily of opinion, that this disorder was not\nin its nature intermittent. I conceived that the contest, once begun,\ncould not be laid down again, to be resumed at our discretion; but\nthat our first struggle with this evil would also be our last. I never\nthought we could make peace with the system; because it was not for the\nsake of an object we pursued in rivalry with each other, but with the\nsystem itself, that we were at war. As I understood the matter, we were\nat war not with its conduct, but with its existence; convinced that its\nexistence and its hostility were the same.\n\nThe faction is not local or territorial. It is a general evil. Where\nit least appears in action, it is still full of life. In its sleep it\nrecruits its strength, and prepares its exertion. Its spirit lies deep\nin the corruption of our common nature. The social order which restrains\nit, feeds it. It exists in every country in Europe; and among all orders\nof men in every country, who look up to France as to a common head. The\ncentre is there. The circumference is the world of Europe wherever the\nrace of Europe may be settled. Everywhere else the faction is militant;\nin France it is triumphant. In France is the bank of deposit, and the\nbank of circulation, of all the pernicious principles that are forming\nin every state. It will be a folly scarcely deserving of pity, and\ntoo mischievous for contempt, to think of restraining it in any other\ncountry whilst it is predominant there. War, instead of being the cause\nof its force, has suspended its operation. It has given a reprieve, at\nleast, to the Christian world. The true nature of a Jacobin war, in the\nbeginning, was, by most of the Christian powers, felt, acknowledged,\nand even in the most precise manner declared. In the joint manifesto,\npublished by the emperor and the king of Prussia, on the 4th of August,\n1792, it is expressed in the clearest terms, and on principles which\ncould not fail, if they had adhered to them, of classing those monarchs\nwith the first benefactors of mankind. This manifesto was published, as\nthey themselves express it, \"to lay open to the present generation,\nas well as to posterity, their motives, their intentions, and the\nDISINTERESTEDNESS of their personal views; taking up arms for the\npurpose of preserving social and political order amongst all civilized\nnations, and to secure to EACH state its religion, happiness,\nindependence, territories, and real constitution.\"--\"On this ground,\nthey hoped that all empires and all states would be unanimous; and\nbecoming the firm guardians of the happiness of mankind, that they could\nnot fail to unite their efforts to rescue a numerous nation from its own\nfury, to preserve Europe from the return of barbarism, and the universe\nfrom the subversion and anarchy with which it was threatened.\" The whole\nof that noble performance ought to be read at the first meeting of any\ncongress, which may assemble for the purpose of pacification. In\nthat peace \"these powers expressly renounce all views of personal\naggrandisement,\" and confine themselves to objects worthy of so\ngenerous, so heroic, and so perfectly wise and politic an enterprise.\nIt was to the principles of this confederation, and to no other, that\nwe wished our sovereign and our country to accede, as a part of\nthe commonwealth of Europe. To these principles, with some trifling\nexceptions and limitations, they did fully accede. (See Declaration,\nWhitehall, October 29, 1793.) And all our friends who took office\nacceded to the ministry (whether wisely or not), as I always understood\nthe matter, on the faith and on the principles of that declaration.\n\nAs long as these powers flattered themselves that the menace of force\nwould produce the effect of force, they acted on those declarations:\nbut when their menaces failed of success, their efforts took a new\ndirection. It did not appear to them that virtue and heroism ought to be\npurchased by millions of rix-dollars. It is a dreadful truth, but it\nis a truth that cannot be concealed; in ability, in dexterity, in the\ndistinctness of their views, the Jacobins are our superiors. They saw\nthe thing right from the very beginning. Whatever were the first motives\nto the war among politicians, they saw that in its spirit, and for its\nobjects, it was a CIVIL WAR; and as such they pursued it. It is a war\nbetween the partisans of the ancient, civil, moral, and political order\nof Europe, against a sect of fanatical and ambitious atheists which\nmeans to change them all. It is not France extending a foreign empire\nover other nations: it is a sect aiming at universal empire, and\nbeginning with the conquest of France. The leaders of that sect secured\nthe CENTRE OF EUROPE; and that secured, they knew, that whatever might\nbe the event of battles and sieges, their CAUSE was victorious. Whether\nits territory had a little more or a little less peeled from its\nsurface, or whether an island or two was detached from its commerce,\nto them was of little moment. The conquest of France was a glorious\nacquisition. That once well laid as a basis of empire, opportunities\nnever could be wanting to regain or to replace what had been lost, and\ndreadfully to avenge themselves on the faction of their adversaries.\nThey saw it was a CIVIL WAR. It was their business to persuade their\nadversaries that it ought to be a FOREIGN war. The Jacobins everywhere\nset up a cry against the new crusade; and they intrigued with effect in\nthe cabinet, in the field, and in every private society in Europe. Their\ntask was not difficult. The condition of princes, and sometimes of\nfirst ministers too, is to be pitied. The creatures of the desk, and\nthe creatures of favour, had no relish for the principles of the\nmanifestoes. They promised no governments, no regiments, no revenues\nfrom whence emoluments might arise by perquisite or by grant. In truth,\nthe tribe of vulgar politicians are the lowest of our species. There is\nno trade so vile and mechanical as government in their hands. Virtue\nis not their habit. They are out of themselves in any course of\nconduct recommended only by conscience and glory. A large, liberal,\nand prospective view of the interests of states passes with them for\nromance; and the principles that recommend it, for the wanderings of\na disordered imagination. The calculators compute them out of their\nsenses. The jesters and buffoons shame them out of everything grand and\nelevated. Littleness in object and in means, to them appears soundness\nand sobriety. They think there is nothing worth pursuit, but that which\nthey can handle; which they can measure with a two-foot rule; which they\ncan tell upon ten fingers.\n\nWithout the principles of the Jacobins, perhaps without any principles\nat all, they played the game of that faction. There was a beaten road\nbefore them. The powers of Europe were armed; France had always appeared\ndangerous; the war was easily diverted from France as a faction, to\nFrance as a state. The princes were easily taught to slide back into\ntheir old, habitual course of politics. They were easily led to consider\nthe flames that were consuming France, not as a warning to protect\ntheir own buildings (which were without any party-wall, and linked by\na contignation into the edifice of France), but as a happy occasion\nfor pillaging the goods, and for carrying off the materials, of their\nneighbour's house. Their provident fears were changed into avaricious\nhopes. They carried on their new designs without seeming to abandon\nthe principles of their old policy. They pretended to seek, or\nthey flattered themselves that they sought, in the accession of new\nfortresses, and new territories, a DEFENSIVE security. But the security\nwanted was against a kind of power, which was not so truly dangerous\nin its fortresses nor in its territories, as in its spirit and its\nprinciples. They aimed, or pretended to aim, at DEFENDING themselves\nagainst a danger from which there can be no security in any DEFENSIVE\nplan. If armies and fortresses were a defence against jacobinism, Louis\nthe Sixteenth would this day reign a powerful monarch over a happy\npeople.\n\nThis error obliged them, even in their offensive operations, to adopt\na plan of war, against the success of which there was something little\nshort of mathematical demonstration. They refused to take any step which\nmight strike at the heart of affairs. They seemed unwilling to wound the\nenemy in any vital part. They acted through the whole, as if they really\nwished the conservation of the Jacobin power, as what might be more\nfavourable than the lawful government to the attainment of the petty\nobjects they looked for. They always kept on the circumference; and\nthe wider and remoter the circle was, the more eagerly they chose it as\ntheir sphere of action in this centrifugal war. The plan they pursued,\nin its nature demanded great length of time. In its execution, they, who\nwent the nearest way to work, were obliged to cover an incredible extent\nof country. It left to the enemy every means of destroying this extended\nline of weakness. Ill success in any part was sure to defeat the effect\nof the whole. This is true of Austria. It is still more true of England.\nOn this false plan, even good fortune, by further weakening the victor,\nput him but the further off from his object.\n\nAs long as there was any appearance of success, the spirit of\naggrandisement, and consequently the spirit of mutual jealousy, seized\nupon all the coalesced powers. Some sought an accession of territory at\nthe expense of France, some at the expense of each other, some at the\nexpense of third parties; and when the vicissitude of disaster took\nits turn, they found common distress a treacherous bond of faith\nand friendship. The greatest skill conducting the greatest military\napparatus has been employed; but it has been worse than uselessly\nemployed, through the false policy of the war. The operations of\nthe field suffered by the errors of the cabinet. If the same spirit\ncontinues when peace is made, the peace will fix and perpetuate all\nthe errors of the war; because it will be made upon the same false\nprinciple. What has been lost in the field, in the field may be\nregained. An arrangement of peace in its nature is a permanent\nsettlement; it is the effect of counsel and deliberation, and not of\nfortuitous events. If built upon a basis fundamentally erroneous, it can\nonly be retrieved by some of those unforeseen dispensations, which the\nall-wise but mysterious Governor of the world sometimes interposes,\nto snatch nations from ruin. It would not be pious error, but mad\nand impious presumption, for any one to trust in an unknown order of\ndispensations, in defiance of the rules of prudence, which are formed\nupon the known march of the ordinary providence of God.\n\n\n\n\nNATIONAL DIGNITY.\n\nNational dignity in all treaties I do admit is an important\nconsideration. They have given us a useful hint on that subject: but\ndignity, hitherto, has belonged to the mode of proceeding, not to the\nmatter of a treaty. Never before has it been mentioned as the standard\nfor rating the conditions of peace; no, never by the most violent of\nconquerors. Indemnification is capable of some estimate: dignity has no\nstandard. It is impossible to guess what acquisitions pride and ambition\nmay think fit for their DIGNITY.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT NOT ABSOLUTE, BUT RELATIVE.\n\nI reprobate no form of government merely upon abstract principles.\nThere may be situations in which the purely democratic form will\nbecome necessary. There may be some (very few, and very particularly\ncircumstanced) where it would be clearly desirable. This I do not take\nto be the case of France, or of any other great country. Until now, we\nhave seen no examples of considerable democracies. The ancients were\nbetter acquainted with them. Not being wholly unread in the authors, who\nhad seen the most of those constitutions, and who best understood them,\nI cannot help concurring with their opinion, that an absolute democracy,\nno more than absolute monarchy, is to be reckoned among the legitimate\nforms of government. They think it rather the corruption and degeneracy,\nthan the sound constitution of a republic. If I recollect rightly,\nAristotle observes, that a democracy has many striking points of\nresemblance with a tyranny. (When I wrote this, I quoted from memory,\nafter many years had elapsed from my reading the passage. A learned\nfriend has found it, and it is as follows:--\n\nTo ethos to auto, kai ampho despotika ton Beltionon, kai ta psephismata,\nosper ekei ta epitagmata kai o demagogos kai o kolax, oi autoi kai\nanalogoi kai malista ekateroi par ekaterois ischuousin, oi men kolakes\npara turannois, oi de demagogoi para tois demois tois toioutois.--\n\n\"The ethical character is the same; both exercise despotism over the\nbetter class of citizens; and decrees are in the one, what ordinances\nand arrets are in the other: the demagogue too, and the court favourite,\nare not unfrequently the same identical men, and always bear a close\nanalogy; and these have the principal power, each in their respective\nforms of government, favourites with the absolute monarch, and\ndemagogues with a people such as I have described.\"--Arist. Politic.\nlib. iv. cap 4.)\n\nOf this I am certain, that in a democracy, the majority of the citizens\nis capable of exercising the most cruel oppressions upon the minority,\nwhenever strong divisions prevail in that kind of polity, as they often\nmust; and that oppression of the minority will extend to far greater\nnumbers, and will be carried on with much greater fury, than can almost\never be apprehended from the dominion of a single sceptre. In such a\npopular persecution, individual sufferers are in a much more deplorable\ncondition than in any other. Under a cruel prince they have the balmy\ncompassion of mankind to assuage the smart of their wounds; they have\nthe plaudits of the people to animate their generous constancy under\ntheir sufferings: but those who are subjected to wrong under multitudes,\nare deprived of all external consolation. They seem deserted by mankind,\noverpowered by a conspiracy of their whole species. But admitting\ndemocracy not to have that inevitable tendency to party tyranny, which I\nsuppose it to have, and admitting it to possess as much good in it when\nunmixed, as I am sure it possesses when compounded with other forms;\ndoes monarchy, on its part, contain nothing at all to recommend it? I\ndo not often quote Bolingbroke, nor have his works in general left any\npermanent impression on my mind. He is a presumptuous and a superficial\nwriter. But he has one observation, which, in my opinion, is not\nwithout depth and solidity. He says, that he prefers a monarchy to other\ngovernments, because you can better ingraft any description of republic\non a monarchy, than anything of monarchy upon the republican forms. I\nthink him perfectly in the right. The fact is so historically; and it\nagrees well with the speculation.\n\nI know how easy a topic it is to dwell on the faults of departed\ngreatness. By a revolution in the state, the fawning sycophant of\nyesterday is converted into the austere critic of the present hour.\nBut steady, independent minds, when they have an object of so serious a\nconcern to mankind as government under their contemplation, will disdain\nto assume the part of satirists and declaimers. They will judge of human\ninstitutions as they do of human characters. They will sort out the good\nfrom the evil, which is mixed in mortal institutions, as it is in mortal\nmen.\n\n\n\n\nDECLARATION OF 1793.\n\nIt is not difficult to discern what sort of humanity our government is\nto learn from these syren singers. Our government also, I admit with\nsome reason, as a step towards the proposed fraternity, is required\nto abjure the unjust hatred which it bears to this body, of honour and\nvirtue. I thank God I am neither a minister nor a leader of opposition.\nI protest I cannot do what they desire. I could not do it if I were\nunder the guillotine; or as they ingeniously and pleasantly express\nit, \"looking out of the little national window.\" Even at that opening\nI could receive none of their light. I am fortified against all such\naffections by the declaration of the government, which I must yet\nconsider as lawful, made on the 29th of October, 1793, and still ringing\nin my ears.\n\n(\"In their place has succeeded a system destructive of all public order,\nmaintained by proscriptions, exiles, and confiscations without number;\nby arbitrary imprisonment; by massacres which cannot be remembered\nwithout horror; and at length by the execrable murder of a just and\nbeneficent sovereign, and of the illustrious princess, who, with an\nunshaken firmness, has shared all the misfortunes of her royal consort,\nhis protracted sufferings, his cruel captivity, and ignominious death.\"\nThey (the allies) have had to encounter acts of aggression without\npretext, open violation of all treaties, unprovoked declarations of war;\nin a word, whatever corruption, intrigue, or violence, could effect\nfor the purpose, openly avowed, of subverting all the institutions of\nsociety, and of extending over all the nations of Europe that confusion,\nwhich has produced the misery of France.\"--\"This state of things cannot\nexist in France without involving all the surrounding powers in one\ncommon danger, without giving them the right, without imposing it upon\nthem as a duty, to stop the progress of an evil, which exists only by\nthe successive violation of all law and all property, and which attacks\nthe fundamental principles by which mankind is united in the bonds of\ncivil society.\"--\"The king would impose none other than equitable\nand moderate conditions, not such as the expense, the risks, and the\nsacrifices of the war might justify; but such as his majesty thinks\nhimself under the indispensable necessity of requiring, with a view to\nthese considerations, and still more to that of his own security and\nof the future tranquillity of Europe. His majesty desires nothing more\nsincerely than thus to terminate a war, which he in vain endeavoured to\navoid, and all the calamities of which, as now experienced by France,\nare to be attributed only to the ambition, the perfidy, and the violence\nof those, whose crimes have involved their own country in misery, and\ndisgraced all civilized nations.\"--\"The king promises, on his part,\nthe suspension of hostilities, friendship, and (as far as the course of\nevents will allow, of which the will of man cannot dispose) security\nand protection to all those who, by declaring for a monarchical form\nof government, shall shake off the yoke of sanguinary anarchy; of that\nanarchy which has broken all the most sacred bonds of society, dissolved\nall the relations of civil life, violated every right, confounded every\nduty; which uses the name of liberty to exercise the most cruel tyranny,\nto annihilate all property, to seize on all possessions: which founds\nits power on the pretended consent of the people, and itself carries\nfire and sword through extensive provinces for having demanded their\nlaws, their religion, and their LAWFUL SOVEREIGN.\"\n\nDeclaration sent by his majesty's command to the commanders of his\nmajesty's fleets and armies employed against France, and to his\nmajesty's ministers employed at foreign courts.)\n\nThis declaration was transmitted not only to our commanders by sea and\nland, but to our ministers in every court of Europe. It is the most\neloquent and highly-finished in the style, the most judicious in the\nchoice of topics, the most orderly in the arrangement, and the most rich\nin the colouring, without employing the smallest degree of exaggeration,\nof any state paper that has ever yet appeared. An ancient writer,\nPlutarch, I think it is, quotes some verses on the eloquence of\nPericles, who is called \"the only orator that left stings in the\nminds of his hearers.\" Like his, the eloquence of the declaration, not\ncontradicting, but enforcing sentiments of the truest humanity, has left\nstings that have penetrated more than skin-deep into my mind; and\nnever can they be extracted by all the surgery of murder, never can the\nthrobbings they have created be assuaged by all the emolient cataplasms\nof robbery and confiscation. I CANNOT love the republic.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL DIET.\n\nTo diet a man into weakness and languor, afterwards to give him the\ngreater strength, has more of the empiric than the rational physician.\nIt is true that some persons have been kicked into courage; and this\nis no bad hint to give to those who are too forward and liberal in\nbestowing insults and outrages on their passive companions. But such a\ncourse does not at first view appear a well-chosen discipline to form\nmen to a nice sense of honour, or a quick resentment of injuries. A long\nhabit of humiliation does not seem a very good preparative to manly and\nvigorous sentiment. It may not leave, perhaps, enough of energy in the\nmind fairly to discern what are good terms or what are not. Men low and\ndispirited may regard those terms as not at all amiss, which in another\nstate of mind they would think intolerable: if they grow peevish in this\nstate of mind, they may be roused, not against the enemy whom they have\nbeen taught to fear, but against the ministry, who are more within their\nreach, and who have refused conditions that are not unreasonable, from\npower that they have been taught to consider as irresistible.\n\n\n\n\nKING WILLIAM'S POLICY.\n\nHis majesty did determine; and did take and pursue his resolution. In\nall the tottering imbecility of a new government, and with parliament\ntotally unmanageable, he persevered. He persevered to expel the fears\nof his people by his fortitude--to steady their fickleness by his\nconstancy--to expand their narrow prudence by his enlarged wisdom--to\nsink their factious temper in his public spirit. In spite of his people\nhe resolved to make them great and glorious; to make England, inclined\nto shrink into her narrow self, the arbitress of Europe, the tutelary\nangel of the human race. In spite of the ministers, who staggered under\nthe weight that his mind imposed upon theirs, unsupported as they felt\nthemselves by the popular spirit, he infused into them his own soul, he\nrenewed in them their ancient heart, he rallied them in the same cause.\nIt required some time to accomplish this work. The people were first\ngained, and through them their distracted representatives. Under the\ninfluence of King William, Holland had rejected the allurements of every\nseduction, and had resisted the terrors of every menace. With Hannibal\nat her gates, she had nobly and magnanimously refused all separate\ntreaty, or anything which might for a moment appear to divide her\naffection or her interest, or even to distinguish her in identity from\nEngland. Having settled the great point of the consolidation (which he\nhoped would be eternal) of the countries made for a common interest, and\ncommon sentiment, the king, in his message to both houses, calls their\nattention to the affairs of the STATES-GENERAL. The House of Lords was\nperfectly sound, and entirely impressed with the wisdom and dignity of\nthe king's proceedings. In answer to the message, which you will observe\nwas narrowed to a single point (the danger of the States-General),\nafter the usual professions of zeal for his service, the lords opened\nthemselves at large. They go far beyond the demands of the message. They\nexpress themselves as follows: \"We take this occasion FURTHER to assure\nyour majesty, that we are sensible of the GREAT AND IMMINENT DANGER TO\nWHICH THE STATES-GENERAL ARE EXPOSED. AND WE PERFECTLY AGREE WITH THEM\nIN BELIEVING THAT THEIR SAFETY AND OURS ARE SO INSEPARABLY UNITED, THAT\nWHATSOEVER IS RUIN TO THE ONE MUST BE FATAL TO THE OTHER.\n\n\"We humbly desire your majesty will be pleased NOT ONLY to made good all\nthe articles of any FORMER treaties to the States-General, but that you\nwill enter into a strict league, offensive and defensive, with them, FOR\nTHEIR COMMON PRESERVATION; AND THAT YOU WILL INVITE INTO IT ALL PRINCES\nAND STATES WHO ARE CONCERNED IN THE PRESENT VISIBLE DANGER, ARISING FROM\nTHE UNION OF FRANCE AND SPAIN.\n\n\"And we further desire your majesty, that you will be pleased to enter\ninto such alliances with the EMPEROR as your majesty shall think fit,\npursuant to the ends of the treaty of 1689; towards all which we assure\nyour majesty of our hearty and sincere assistance; not doubting, but\nwhenever your majesty shall be obliged to be engaged for the defence of\nyour allies, AND SECURING THE LIBERTY AND QUIET OF EUROPE, Almighty God\nwill protect your sacred person in so righteous a cause. And that the\nunanimity, wealth, and courage, of your subjects will carry your majesty\nwith honour and success THROUGH ALL THE DIFFICULTIES OF A JUST WAR.\"\n\nThe House of Commons was more reserved; the late popular disposition was\nstill in a great degree prevalent in the representative, after it had\nbeen made to change in the constituent body. The principle of the grand\nalliance was not directly recognised in the resolution of the Commons,\nnor the war announced, though they were well aware the alliance was\nformed for the war. However, compelled by the returning sense of the\npeople, they went so far as to fix the three great immovable pillars of\nthe safety and greatness of England, as they were then, as they are now,\nand as they must ever be to the end of time. They asserted in general\nterms the necessity of supporting Holland, of keeping united with our\nallies, and maintaining the liberty of Europe; though they restricted\ntheir vote to the succours stipulated by actual treaty. But now they\nwere fairly embarked, they were obliged to go with the course of the\nvessel; and the whole nation, split before into a hundred adverse\nfactions, with a king at its head evidently declining to his tomb,\nthe whole nation, lords, commons, and people, proceeded as one body,\ninformed by one soul. Under the British union, the union of Europe\nwas consolidated; and it long held together with a degree of cohesion,\nfirmness, and fidelity, not known before or since in any political\ncombination of that extent.\n\nJust as the last hand was given to this immense and complicated machine,\nthe master workman died: but the work was formed on true mechanical\nprinciples, and it was as truly wrought. It went by the impulse it had\nreceived from the first mover. The man was dead; but the grand alliance\nsurvived in which King William lived and reigned. That heartless and\ndispirited people, whom Lord Somers had represented about two years\nbefore as dead in energy and operation, continued that war to which\nit was supposed they were unequal in mind, and in means, for nearly\nthirteen years. For what have I entered into all this detail? To what\npurpose have I recalled your view to the end of the last century? It has\nbeen done to show that the British nation was then a great people--to\npoint out how and by what means they came to be exalted above the\nvulgar level, and to take that lead which they assumed among mankind.\nTo qualify us for that pre-eminence, we had then a high mind and a\nconstancy unconquerable; we were then inspired with no flashy passions,\nbut such as were durable as well as warm, such as corresponded to the\ngreat interests we had at stake. This force of character was inspired,\nas all such spirit must ever be, from above. Government gave the\nimpulse. As well may we fancy, that of itself the sea will swell, and\nthat without winds the billows will insult the adverse shore, as that\nthe gross mass of the people will be moved, and elevated, and continue\nby a steady and permanent direction to bear upon one point, without the\ninfluence of superior authority, or superior mind.\n\nThis impulse ought, in my opinion, to have been given in this war; and\nit ought to have been continued to it at every instant. It is made, if\never war was made, to touch all the great springs of action in the human\nbreast. It ought not to have been a war of apology. The minister had,\nin this conflict, wherewithal to glory in success; to be consoled in\nadversity; to hold high his principle in all fortunes. If it were not\ngiven him to support the falling edifice, he ought to bury himself under\nthe ruins of the civilized world. All the art of Greece, and all the\npride and power of eastern monarchs, never heaped upon their ashes so\ngrand a monument.\n\n\n\n\nDISTEMPER OF REMEDY.\n\nThis distemper of remedy, grown habitual, relaxes and wears out, by a\nvulgar and prostituted use, the spring of that spirit which is to be\nexerted on great occasions. It was in the most patient period of Roman\nservitude that themes of tyrannicide made the ordinary exercise of boys\nat school--cum perimit saevos classis numerosa tyrannos. In the ordinary\nstate of things, it produces in a country like ours the worst effects,\neven on the cause of that liberty which it abuses with the dissoluteness\nof an extravagant speculation. Almost all the high-bred republicans\nof my time have, after a short space, become the most decided,\nthorough-paced courtiers; they soon left the business of a tedious,\nmoderate, but practical resistance, to those of us whom, in the pride\nand intoxication of their theories, they have slighted as not much\nbetter than Tories. Hypocrisy, of course, delights in the most sublime\nspeculations; for, never intending to go beyond speculation, it costs\nnothing to have it magnificent. But even in cases where rather levity\nthan fraud was to be suspected in these ranting speculations, the\nissue has been much the same. These professors, finding their extreme\nprinciples not applicable to cases which call only for a qualified,\nor, as I may say, civil, and legal resistance, in such cases employ\nno resistance at all. It is with them a war or a revolution, or it is\nnothing. Finding their schemes of politics not adapted to the state of\nthe world in which they live, they often come to think lightly of all\npublic principle; and are ready, on their part, to abandon for a very\ntrivial interest what they find of very trivial value. Some indeed are\nof more steady and persevering natures; but these are eager politicians\nout of parliament, who have little to tempt them to abandon their\nfavourite projects. They have some change in the Church or State, or\nboth, constantly in their view. When that is the case, they are always\nbad citizens, and perfectly unsure connections. For, considering their\nspeculative designs as of infinite value, and the actual arrangement of\nthe state as of no estimation, they are at best indifferent about it.\nThey see no merit in the good, and no fault in the vicious management of\npublic affairs; they rather rejoice in the latter, as more propitious to\nrevolution. They see no merit or demerit in any man, or any action, or\nany political principle, any further than as they may forward or retard\ntheir design of change: they therefore take up, one day, the most\nviolent and stretched prerogative, and another time the wildest\ndemocratic ideas of freedom, and pass from the one to the other without\nany sort of regard to cause, to person, or to party.\n\n\n\n\nWAR AND WILL OF THE PEOPLE.\n\nIn matters of state, a constitutional competence to act is in many\ncases the smallest part of the question. Without disputing (God forbid I\nshould dispute) the sole competence of the king and the parliament, each\nin its province, to decide on war and peace, I venture to say, no war\nCAN be long carried on against the will of the people. This war, in\nparticular, cannot be carried on unless they are enthusiastically in\nfavour of it. Acquiescence will not do. There must be zeal. Universal\nzeal in such a cause, and at such a time as this is, cannot be looked\nfor; neither is it necessary. Zeal in the larger part carries the force\nof the whole. Without this, no government, certainly not our government,\nis capable of a great war. None of the ancient regular governments have\nwherewithal to fight abroad with a foreign foe, and at home to overcome\nrepining, reluctance, and chicane. It must be some portentous thing,\nlike regicide France, that can exhibit such a prodigy. Yet even she, the\nmother of monsters, more prolific than the country of old called Ferax\nmonstrorum, shows symptoms of being almost effete already; and she will\nbe so, unless the fallow of a peace comes to recruit her fertility.\nBut whatever may be represented concerning the meanness of the popular\nspirit, I, for one, do not think so desperately of the British nation.\nOur minds, as I said, are light, but they are not depraved. We are\ndreadfully open to delusion and to dejection; but we are capable of\nbeing animated and undeceived.\n\nIt cannot be concealed: we are a divided people. But in divisions, where\na part is to be taken, we are to make a muster of our strength. I have\noften endeavoured to compute and to class those who, in any political\nview, are to be called the people. Without doing something of this sort\nwe must proceed absurdly. We should not be much wiser, if we pretended\nto very great accuracy in our estimate; but I think, in the calculation\nI have made, the error cannot be very material. In England and Scotland,\nI compute that those of adult age, not declining in life, of tolerable\nleisure for such discussions, and of some means of information, more or\nless, and who are above menial dependence (or what virtually is such),\nmay amount to about four hundred thousand. There is such a thing as a\nnatural representative of the people. This body is that representative;\nand on this body, more than on the legal constituent, the artificial\nrepresentative depends. This is the British public; and it is a public\nvery numerous. The rest, when feeble, are the objects of protection;\nwhen strong, the means of force. They who affect to consider that part\nof us in any other light, insult while they cajole us; they do not\nwant us for counsellors in deliberation, but to list us as soldiers for\nbattle.\n\nOf these four hundred thousand political citizens, I look upon\none-fifth, or about eighty thousand, to be pure Jacobins; utterly\nincapable of amendment; objects of eternal vigilance, and, when they\nbreak out, of legal constraint. On these, no reason, no argument, no\nexample, no venerable authority, can have the slightest influence. They\ndesire a change; and they will have it if they can. If they cannot have\nit by English cabal, they will make no sort of scruple of having it by\nthe cabal of France, into which already they are virtually incorporated.\nIt is only their assured and confident expectation of the advantages\nof French fraternity, and the approaching blessings of regicide\nintercourse, that skins over their mischievous dispositions with a\nmomentary quiet. This minority is great and formidable. I do not know\nwhether if I aimed at the total overthrow of a kingdom, I should wish\nto be encumbered with a larger body of partisans. They are more easily\ndisciplined and directed than if the number were greater. These, by\ntheir spirit of intrigue, and by their restless agitating activity, are\nof a force far superior to their numbers; and, if times grew the least\ncritical, have the means of debauching or intimidating many of those who\nare now sound, as well as of adding to their force large bodies of the\nmore passive part of the nation. This minority is numerous enough to\nmake a mighty cry for peace, or for war, or for any object they are led\nvehemently to desire. By passing from place to place with a velocity\nincredible, and diversifying their character and description, they are\ncapable of mimicking the general voice. We must not always judge of the\ngenerality of the opinion by the noise of the acclamation.\n\n\n\n\nFALSE POLICY IN OUR FRENCH WAR.\n\nWe have never put forth half the strength which we have exerted in\nordinary wars. In the fatal battles which have drenched the continent\nwith blood, and shaken the system of Europe to pieces, we have never\nhad any considerable army of a magnitude to be compared to the least of\nthose by which, in former times, we so gloriously asserted our place\nas protectors, not oppressors, at the head of the great commonwealth\nof Europe. We have never manfully met the danger in front: and when the\nenemy, resigning to us our natural dominion of the ocean, and abandoning\nthe defence of his distant possessions to the infernal energy of the\ndestroying principles which he had planted there for the subversion\nof the neighbouring colonies, drove forth, by one sweeping law of\nunprecedented despotism, his armed multitudes on every side, to\noverwhelm the countries and states which had for centuries stood the\nfirm barriers against the ambition of France; we drew back the arm of\nour military force, which had never been more than half raised to oppose\nhim. From that time we have been combating only with the other arm of\nour naval power; the right arm of England I admit; but which struck\nalmost unresisted with blows that could never reach the heart of the\nhostile mischief. From that time, without a single effort to regain\nthose outworks, which ever till now we so strenuously maintained, as\nthe strong frontier of our own dignity and safety, no less than the\nliberties of Europe; with but one feeble attempt to succour those brave,\nfaithful, and numerous allies, whom, for the first time since the days\nof our Edwards and Henrys, we now have in the bosom of France itself;\nwe have been intrenching, and fortifying, and garrisoning ourselves at\nhome: we have been redoubling security on security, to protect ourselves\nfrom invasion, which has now become to us a serious object of alarm and\nterror. Alas! the few of us who have protracted life in any measure near\nto the extreme limits of our short period, have been condemned to see\nstrange things; new systems of policy, new principles, and not only\nnew men, but what might appear a new species of men. I believe that any\nperson who was of age to take a part in public affairs forty years ago\n(if the intermediate space of time were expunged from his memory)\nwould hardly credit his senses, when he should hear from the highest\nauthority, that an army of two hundred thousand men was kept up in\nthis island, and that in the neighbouring island there were at least\nfourscore thousand more. But when he had recovered from his surprise on\nbeing told of this army, which has not its parallel, what must be his\nastonishment to be told again, that this mighty force was kept up for\nthe mere purpose of an inert and passive defence, and that in its far\ngreater part, it was disabled by its constitution and very essence from\ndefending us against an enemy by any one preventive stroke, or any one\noperation of active hostility? What must his reflections be on learning\nfurther, that a fleet of five hundred men of war, the best appointed,\nand to the full as ably commanded as any this country ever had upon the\nsea, was for the greater part employed in carrying on the same system of\nunenterprising defence? what must be the sentiments and feelings of\none who remembers the former energy of England, when he is given to\nunderstand that these two islands, with their extensive and everywhere\nvulnerable coast, should be considered as a garrisoned sea-town; what\nwould such a man, what would any man think, if the garrison of so\nstrange a fortress should be such, and so feebly commanded, as never to\nmake a sally; and that, contrary to all which has hitherto been seen in\nwar, an infinitely inferior army, with the shattered relics of an almost\nannihilated navy, ill found and ill manned, may with safety besiege this\nsuperior garrison, and, without hazarding the life of a man, ruin the\nplace, merely by the menaces and false appearances of an attack? Indeed,\nindeed, my dear friend, I look upon this matter of our defensive system\nas much the most important of all considerations at this moment. It has\noppressed me with many anxious thoughts, which, more than any bodily\ndistemper, have sunk me to the condition in which you know that I am.\nShould it please Providence to restore to me even the late weak\nremains of my strength, I propose to make this matter the subject of\na particular discussion. I only mean here to argue, that the mode of\nconducting the war on our part, be it good or bad, has prevented even\nthe common havoc of war in our population, and especially among that\nclass whose duty and privilege of superiority it is to lead the way\namidst the perils and slaughter of the field of battle.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL ESSENCE MAKES A NATION.\n\nMere locality does not constitute a body politic. Had Cade and his\ngang got possession of London, they would not have been the lord mayor,\naldermen, and common council. The body politic of France existed in the\nmajesty of its throne, in the dignity of its nobility, in the honour\nof its gentry, in the sanctity of its clergy, in the reverence of its\nmagistracy, in the weight and consideration due to its landed property\nin the several bailliages, in the respect due to its moveable substance\nrepresented by the corporations of the kingdom. All these particular\nmoleculae united form the great mass of what is truly the body politic\nin all countries. They are so many deposits and receptacles of justice;\nbecause they can only exist by justice. Nation is a moral essence, not a\ngeographical arrangement, or a denomination of the nomenclator. France,\nthough out of her territorial possession, exists; because the sole\npossible claimant, I mean the proprietary, and the government to which\nthe proprietary adheres, exists, and claims. God forbid, that if you\nwere expelled from your house by ruffians and assassins, that I should\ncall the material walls, doors, and windows of--, the ancient and\nhonourable family of--. Am I to transfer to the intruders, who, not\ncontent to turn you out naked to the world, would rob you of your very\nname, all the esteem and respect I owe to you? The regicides in France\nare not France. France is out of her bounds, but the kingdom is the\nsame.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLIC SPIRIT.\n\nOther great states, having been without any regular, certain course of\nelevation or decline, we may hope that the British fortune may fluctuate\nalso; because the public mind, which greatly influences that fortune,\nmay have its changes. We are therefore never authorised to abandon our\ncountry to its fate, or to act or advise as if it had no resource. There\nis no reason to apprehend, because ordinary means threaten to fail, that\nno others can spring up. Whilst our heart is whole, it will find means,\nor make them. The heart of the citizen is a perennial spring of energy\nto the state. Because the pulse seems to intermit, we must not presume\nthat it will cease instantly to beat. The public must never be regarded\nas incurable. I remember in the beginning of what has lately been called\nthe Seven Years' War, that an eloquent writer and ingenious speculator,\nDr. Brown, upon some reverses which happened in the beginning of that\nwar, published an elaborate philosophical discourse to prove that the\ndistinguishing features of the people of England have been totally\nchanged, and that a frivolous effeminacy was become the national\ncharacter. Nothing could be more popular than that work. It was thought\na great consolation to us, the light people of this country (who were\nand are light, but who were not and are not effeminate), that we had\nfound the causes of our misfortunes in our vices. Pythagoras could not\nbe more pleased with his leading discovery. But whilst in that splenetic\nmood we amused ourselves in a sour, critical speculation, of which we\nwere ourselves the objects, and in which every man lost his particular\nsense of the public disgrace in the epidemic nature of the distemper;\nwhilst, as in the Alps, goitre [\"i\" circumflex] kept goitre [\"i\" acute]\nin countenance; whilst we were thus abandoning ourselves to a direct\nconfession of our inferiority to France, and whilst many, very many,\nwere ready to act upon a sense of that inferiority, a few months\neffected a total change in our variable minds. We emerged from the gulf\nof that speculative despondency, and were buoyed up to the highest point\nof practical vigour. Never did the masculine spirit of England display\nitself with more energy, nor ever did its genius soar with a prouder\npre-eminence over France, than at the time when frivolity and effeminacy\nhad been at least tacitly acknowledged as their national character by\nthe good people of this kingdom.\n\n\n\n\nPROGRESSIVE GROWTH OF CHRISTIAN STATES.\n\nWhen I contemplate the scheme on which France is formed, and when I\ncompare it with these systems, with which it is, and ever must be, in\nconflict, those things, which seem as defects in her polity, are the\nvery things which make me tremble. The states of the Christian world\nhave grown up to their present magnitude in a great length of time, and\nby a great variety of accidents. They have been improved to what we see\nthem with greater or less degrees of felicity and skill. Not one of\nthem has been formed upon a regular plan or with any unity of design. As\ntheir constitutions are not systematical, they have not been directed to\nany PECULIAR end, eminently distinguished, and superseding every other.\nThe objects which they embrace are of the greatest possible variety, and\nhave become in a manner infinite. In all these old countries, the state\nhas been made to the people, and not the people conformed to the state.\nEvery state has pursued not only every sort of social advantage, but it\nhas cultivated the welfare of every individual. His wants, his wishes,\neven his tastes, have been consulted. This comprehensive scheme\nvirtually produced a degree of personal liberty in forms the most\nadverse to it. That liberty was found, under monarchies styled absolute,\nin a degree unknown to the ancient commonwealths. From hence the\npowers of all our modern states meet, in all their movements, with some\nobstruction. It is therefore no wonder, that, when these states are\nto be considered as machines to operate for some one great end, this\ndissipated and balanced force is not easily concentrated, or made to\nbear with the whole force of the nation upon one point.\n\nThe British state is, without question, that which pursues the greatest\nvariety of ends, and is the least disposed to sacrifice any one of them\nto another, or to the whole. It aims at taking in the entire circle\nof human desires, and securing for them their fair enjoyment. Our\nlegislature has been ever closely connected, in its most efficient part,\nwith individual feeling, and individual interest. Personal liberty, the\nmost lively of these feelings and the most important of these interests,\nwhich in other European countries has rather arisen from the system of\nmanners and the habitudes of life, than from the laws of the state (in\nwhich it flourished more from neglect than attention), in England, has\nbeen a direct object of government.\n\nOn this principle England would be the weakest power in the whole\nsystem. Fortunately, however, the great riches of this kingdom arising\nfrom a variety of causes, and the disposition of the people, which is\nas great to spend as to accumulate, has easily afforded a disposable\nsurplus that gives a mighty momentum to the state. This difficulty, with\nthese advantages to overcome it, has called forth the talents of the\nEnglish financiers, who, by the surplus of industry poured out by\nprodigality, have outdone everything which has been accomplished in\nother nations. The present minister has outdone his predecessors; and,\nas a minister of revenue, is far above my power of praise. But still\nthere are cases in which England feels more than several others (though\nthey all feel) the perplexity of an immense body of balanced advantages,\nand of individual demands, and of some irregularity in the whole mass.\n\nFrance differs essentially from all those governments, which are formed\nwithout system, which exist by habit, and which are confused with the\nmultitude, and with the perplexity of their pursuits. What now stands\nas government in France is struck out at a heat. The design is wicked,\nimmoral, impious, oppressive; but it is spirited and daring; it is\nsystematic; it is simple in its principle; it has unity and consistency\nin perfection.\n\n\n\n\nPETTY INTERESTS.\n\nIt is undoubtedly the business of ministers very much to consult the\ninclinations of the people, but they ought to take great care that they\ndo not receive that inclination from the few persons who may happen\nto approach them. The petty interests of such gentlemen, the low\nconceptions of things, their fears arising from the danger to which the\nvery arduous and critical situation of public affairs may expose their\nplaces; their apprehensions from the hazards to which the discontents of\na few popular men at elections may expose their seats in parliament; all\nthese causes trouble and confuse the representations which they make\nto ministers of the real temper of the nation. If ministers, instead\nof following the great indications of the constitution, proceed on such\nreports, they will take the whispers of a cabal for the voice of the\npeople, and the counsels of imprudent timidity for the wisdom of a\nnation.\n\n\n\n\nPIUS VII.\n\nIt is not for his Holiness we intend this consolatory declaration of\nour own weakness, and of the tyrannous temper of his grand enemy. That\nprince has known both the one and the other from the beginning. The\nartists of the French revolution had given their very first essays and\nsketches of robbery and desolation against his territories, in a far\nmore cruel \"murdering piece\" than had ever entered into the imagination\nof painter or poet. Without ceremony they tore from his cherishing arms\nthe possessions which he held for five hundred years, undisturbed by all\nthe ambition of all the ambitious monarchs who, during that period,\nhave reigned in France. Is it to him, in whose wrong we have in our\nlate negotiation ceded his now unhappy countries near the Rhone, lately\namongst the most flourishing (perhaps the most flourishing for their\nextent) of all the countries upon earth, that we are to prove the\nsincerity of our resolution to make peace with the republic barbarism?\nThat venerable potentate and pontiff is sunk deep into the vale of\nyears; he is half disarmed by his peaceful character; his dominions are\nmore than half disarmed by a peace of two hundred years, defended as\nthey were, not by forces, but by reverence; yet in all these straits, we\nsee him display, amidst the recent ruins and the new defacements of\nhis plundered capital, along with the mild and decorated piety of the\nmodern, all the spirit and magnanimity of ancient Rome! Does he, who,\nthough himself unable to defend them, nobly refused to receive pecuniary\ncompensations for the protection he owed to his people of Avignon,\nCarpentras, and the Venaisin;--does he want proofs of our good\ndisposition to deliver over that people without any security for them,\nor any compensation to their sovereign, to this cruel enemy? Does he\nwant to be satisfied of the sincerity of our humiliation to France, who\nhas seen his free, fertile, and happy city and state of Bologna,\nthe cradle of regenerated law, the seat of sciences and of arts, so\nhideously metamorphosed, whilst he was crying to Great Britain for aid,\nand offering to purchase that aid at any price? Is it him, who sees that\nchosen spot of plenty and delight converted into a Jacobin ferocious\nrepublic, dependent on the homicides of France? Is it him, who, from the\nmiracles of his beneficent industry, has done a work which defied the\npower of the Roman emperors, though with an enthralled world to labour\nfor them; is it him, who has drained and cultivated the PONTINE MARSHES,\nthat we are to satisfy of our cordial spirit of conciliation, with those\nwho, in their equity, are restoring Holland again to the seas, whose\nmaxims poison more than the exhalations of the most deadly fens, and who\nturn all the fertilities of nature and of art into a howling desert? Is\nit to him, that we are to demonstrate the good faith of our submissions\nto the cannibal republic; to him who is commanded to deliver into their\nhands Ancona and Civita Vecchia, seats of commerce, raised by the wise\nand liberal labours and expenses of the present and late pontiffs; ports\nnot more belonging to the Ecclesiastical State than to the commerce of\nGreat Britain; thus wresting from his hands the power of the keys of the\ncentre of Italy, as before they had taken possession of the keys of\nthe northern part, from the hands of the unhappy king of Sardinia, the\nnatural ally of England? Is it to him we are to prove our good faith in\nthe peace which we are soliciting to receive from the hands of his and\nour robbers, the enemies of all arts, all sciences, all civilization,\nand all commerce?\n\n\n\n\nEXTINCTION OF LOCAL PATRIOTISM.\n\nThat day was, I fear, the fatal term of LOCAL patriotism. On that day,\nI fear, there was an end of that narrow scheme of relations called our\ncountry, with all its pride, its prejudices, and its partial affections.\nAll the little quiet rivulets, that watered an humble, a contracted,\nbut not an unfruitful field, are to be lost in the waste expanse, and\nboundless, barren ocean of the homicide philanthropy of France. It is\nno longer an object of terror, the aggrandizement of a new power, which\nteaches as a professor that philanthropy in their chair; whilst it\npropagates by arms, and establishes by conquest, the comprehensive\nsystem of universal fraternity. In what light is all this viewed in a\ngreat assembly? The party which takes the lead there has no longer any\napprehensions, except those that arise from not being admitted to the\nclosest and most confidential connections with the metropolis of that\nfraternity. That reigning party no longer touches on its favourite\nsubject, the display of those horrors, that must attend the existence of\na power, with such dispositions and principles, seated in the heart of\nEurope. It is satisfied to find some loose, ambiguous expressions in\nits former declarations, which may set it free from its professions and\nengagements. It always speaks of peace with the regicides as a great and\nan undoubted blessing; and such a blessing as, if obtained, promises,\nas much as any human disposition of things can promise, security and\npermanence. It holds out nothing at all definite towards this security.\nIt only seeks, by a restoration, to some of their former owners, of some\nfragments of the general wreck of Europe, to find a plausible plea for\na present retreat from an embarrassing position. As to the future, that\nparty is content to leave it, covered in a night of the most palpable\nobscurity. It never once has entered into a particle of detail of what\nour own situation, or that of other powers, must be, under the blessings\nof the peace we seek. This defect, to my power, I mean to supply; that\nif any persons should still continue to think an attempt at foresight is\nany part of the duty of a statesman, I may contribute my trifle to the\nmaterials of his speculation.\n\nAs to the other party, the minority of to-day, possibly the majority\nof to-morrow, small in number but full of talents and every species\nof energy, which, upon the avowed ground of being more acceptable\nto France, is a candidate for the helm of this kingdom, it has never\nchanged from the beginning. It has preserved a perennial consistency.\nThis would be a never-failing source of true glory, if springing from\njust and right; but it is truly dreadful if it be an arm of Styx, which\nsprings out of the profoundest depths of a poisoned soil. The French\nmaxims were by these gentlemen at no time condemned. I speak of their\nlanguage in the most moderate terms. There are many who think that they\nhave gone much further; that they have always magnified and extolled\nthe French maxims; that not in the least disgusted or discouraged by\nthe monstrous evils, which have attended these maxims from the moment of\ntheir adoption both at home and abroad, they still continue to predict,\nthat in due time they must produce the greatest good to the poor human\nrace. They obstinately persist in stating those evils as matter of\naccident; as things wholly collateral to the system. It is observed,\nthat this party has never spoken of an ally of Great Britain with the\nsmallest degree of respect or regard; on the contrary, it has generally\nmentioned them under opprobrious appellations, and in such terms of\ncontempt or execration, as never had been heard before, because no such\nwould have formerly been permitted in our public assemblies. The moment,\nhowever, that any of those allies quitted this obnoxious connection,\nthe party has instantly passed an act of indemnity and oblivion in their\nfavour. After this, no sort of censure on their conduct; no imputation\non their character! From that moment their pardon was sealed in a\nreverential and mysterious silence. With the gentlemen of this minority,\nthere is no ally, from one end of Europe to the other, with whom we\nought not to be ashamed to act. The whole college of the states of\nEurope is no better than a gang of tyrants. With them all our connexions\nwere broken off at once. We ought to have cultivated France, and France\nalone, from the moment of her revolution. On that happy change, all our\ndread of that nation as a power was to cease. She became in an instant\ndear to our affections, and one with our interests. All other nations\nwe ought to have commanded not to trouble her sacred throes, whilst in\nlabour to bring into a happy birth her abundant litter of constitutions.\n\n\n\n\nWALPOLE AND HIS POLICY.\n\nThere has not been in this century any foreign peace or war, in its\norigin, the fruit of popular desire; except the war that was made with\nSpain in 1739. Sir Robert Walpole was forced into the war by the people,\nwho were inflamed to this measure by the most leading politicians, by\nthe first orators, and the greatest poets, of the time. For that war,\nPope sung his dying notes. For that war, Johnson, in more energetic\nstrains, employed the voice of his early genius. For that war, Glover\ndistinguished himself in the way in which his muse was the most natural\nand happy. The crowd readily followed the politicians in the cry for\na war, which threatened little bloodshed, and which promised victories\nthat were attended with something more solid than glory. A war with\nSpain was a war of plunder. In the present conflict with regicide, Mr.\nPitt has not hitherto had, nor will, perhaps, for a few days have, many\nprizes to hold out in the lottery of war, to attempt the lower part of\nour character. He can only maintain it by an appeal to the higher; and\nto those, in whom that higher part is the most predominant, he must\nlook the most for his support. Whilst he holds out no inducements to\nthe wise, nor bribes to the avaricious, he may be forced by a vulgar cry\ninto a peace ten times more ruinous than the most disastrous war. The\nweaker he is in the fund of motives which apply to our avarice, to our\nlaziness, and to our lassitude, if he means to carry the war to any end\nat all, the stronger he ought to be in his addresses to our magnanimity\nand to our reason.\n\nIn stating that Walpole was driven by a popular clamour into a measure\nnot to be justified, I do not mean wholly to excuse his conduct. My time\nof observation did not exactly coincide with that event: but I read much\nof the controversies then carried on. Several years after the contests\nof parties had ceased, the people were amused, and in a degree warmed,\nwith them. The events of that era seemed then of magnitude, which the\nrevolutions of our time have reduced to parochial importance; and the\ndebates, which then shook the nation, now appear of no higher moment\nthan a discussion in a vestry. When I was very young, a general fashion\ntold me I was to admire some of the writings against that minister; a\nlittle more maturity taught me as much to despise them. I observed\none fault in his general proceeding. He never manfully put forward the\nentire strength of his cause. He temporised, he managed, and, adopting\nvery nearly the sentiments of his adversaries, he opposed their\ninferences. This, for a political commander, is the choice of a weak\npost. His adversaries had the better of the argument, as he handled it,\nnot as the reason and justice of his cause enabled him to manage it. I\nsay this, after having seen, and with some care examined, the original\ndocuments concerning certain important transactions of those times. They\nperfectly satisfied me of the extreme injustice of that war, and of\nthe falsehood of the colours which, to his own ruin, and guided by a\nmistaken policy, he suffered to be daubed over that measure. Some years\nafter, it was my fortune to converse with many of the principal actors\nagainst that minister, and with those who principally excited that\nclamour. None of them, no not one, did in the least defend the measure,\nor attempt to justify their conduct. They condemned it as freely as they\nwould have done in commenting upon any proceeding in history, in which\nthey were totally unconcerned. Thus it will be. They who stir up the\npeople to improper desires, whether of peace or war, will be condemned\nby themselves. They who weakly yield to them will be condemned by\nhistory.\n\n\n\n\nPOLITICAL PEACE.\n\nHow a question of peace can be discussed without having them in view, I\ncannot imagine. If you or others see a way out of these difficulties,\nI am happy. I see, indeed, a fund from whence equivalents will be\nproposed. I see it, but I cannot just now touch it. It is a question of\nhigh moment. It opens another Iliad of woes to Europe.\n\nSuch is the time proposed for making A COMMON POLITICAL PEACE; to which\nno one circumstance is propitious. As to the grand principle of the\npeace, it is left, as if by common consent, wholly out of the question.\n\nViewing things in this light, I have frequently sunk into a degree\nof despondency and dejection hardly to be described; yet out of the\nprofoundest depths of this despair, an impulse, which I have in vain\nendeavoured to resist, has urged me to raise one feeble cry against\nthis unfortunate coalition which is formed at home, in order to make\na coalition with France, subversive of the whole ancient order of the\nworld. No disaster of war, no calamity of season, could ever strike me\nwith half the horror which I felt from what is introduced to us by this\njunction of parties, under the soothing name of peace. We are apt to\nspeak of a low and pusillanimous spirit as the ordinary cause by which\ndubious wars terminated in humiliating treaties. It is here the direct\ncontrary. I am perfectly astonished at the boldness of character, at the\nintrepidity of mind, the firmness of nerve, in those who are able with\ndeliberation to face the perils of Jacobin fraternity.\n\nThis fraternity is indeed so terrible in its nature, and in its manifest\nconsequences, that there is no way of quieting our apprehensions about\nit, but by totally putting it out of sight, by substituting for it,\nthrough a sort of periphrasis, something of an ambiguous quality, and\ndescribing such a connection under the terms of \"THE USUAL RELATIONS OF\nPEACE AND AMITY.\" By this means the proposed fraternity is hustled in\nthe crowd of those treaties, which imply no change in the public law of\nEurope, and which do not upon system affect the interior condition of\nnations. It is confounded with those conventions in which matters of\ndispute among sovereign powers are compromised, by the taking off a\nduty more or less, by the surrender of a frontier town, or a disputed\ndistrict, on the one side or the other; by pactions in which the\npretensions of families are settled (as by a conveyancer, making family\nsubstitutions and successions), without any alterations in the\nlaws, manners, religion, privileges, and customs, of the cities, or\nterritories, which are the subject of such arrangements.\n\nAll this body of old conventions, composing the vast and voluminous\ncollection called the corps diplomatique, forms the code or statute law,\nas the methodised reasonings of the great publicists and jurists form\nthe digest and jurisprudence of the Christian world. In these treasures\nare to be found the USUAL relations of peace and amity in civilized\nEurope; and there the relations of ancient France were to be found\namongst the rest.\n\nThe present system in France is not the ancient France. It is not the\nancient France with ordinary ambition and ordinary means. It is not a\nnew power of an old kind. It is a new power of a new species. When\nsuch a questionable shape is to be admitted for the first time into the\nbrotherhood of Christendom, it is not a mere matter of idle curiosity to\nconsider how far it is in its nature alliable with the rest, or whether\n\"the relations of peace and amity\" with this new state are likely to be\nof the same nature with the USUAL relations of the states of Europe.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLIC LOANS.\n\nIt is never, therefore, wise to quarrel with the interested views of\nmen, whilst they are combined with the public interest and promote it:\nit is our business to tie the knot, if possible, closer. Resources that\nare derived from extraordinary virtues, as such virtues are rare, so\nthey must be unproductive. It is a good thing for a monied man to pledge\nhis property on the welfare of his country; he shows that he places his\ntreasure where his heart is; and, revolving in this circle, we know that\n\"wherever a man's treasure is, there his heart will be also.\" For these\nreasons, and on these principles, I have been sorry to see the attempts\nwhich have been made, with more good meaning than foresight and\nconsideration, towards raising the annual interest of this loan by\nprivate contributions. Wherever a regular revenue is established,\nthere voluntary contribution can answer no purpose, but to disorder\nand disturb it in its course. To recur to such aids is, for so much, to\ndissolve the community, and to return to a state of unconnected nature.\nAnd even if such a supply should be productive, in a degree commensurate\nto its object, it must also be productive of much vexation, and much\noppression. Either the citizens, by the proposed duties, pay their\nproportion according to some rate made by public authority, or they\ndo not. If the law be well made, and the contributions founded on just\nproportions, everything superadded by something that is not as regular\nas law, and as uniform in its operation, will become more or less out\nof proportion. If, on the contrary, the law be not made upon proper\ncalculation, it is a disgrace to the public wisdom, which fails in skill\nto assess the citizen in just measure, and according to his means. But\nthe hand of authority is not always the most heavy hand. It is obvious,\nthat men may be oppressed by many ways, besides those which take their\ncourse from the supreme power of the state. Suppose the payment to be\nwholly discretionary. Whatever has its origin in caprice, is sure not to\nimprove in its progress, nor to end in reason. It is impossible for each\nprivate individual to have any measure conformable to the particular\ncondition of each of his fellow-citizens, or to the general exigencies\nof his country. 'Tis a random shot at best.\n\nWhen men proceed in this irregular mode, the first contributor is apt to\ngrow peevish with his neighbours. He is but too well disposed to\nmeasure their means by his own envy, and not by the real state of their\nfortunes, which he can rarely know, and which it may in them be an act\nof the grossest imprudence to reveal. Hence the odium and lassitude,\nwith which people will look upon a provision for the public, which\nis bought by discord at the expense of social quiet. Hence the bitter\nheart-burnings, and the war of tongues, which is so often the prelude\nto other wars. Nor is it every contribution, called voluntary, which\nis according to the free will of the giver. A false shame, or a false\nglory, against his feelings and his judgment, may tax an individual to\nthe detriment of his family, and in wrong of his creditors. A pretence\nof public spirit may disable him from the performance of his private\nduties. It may disable him even from paying the legitimate contributions\nwhich he is to furnish according to the prescript of the law; but what\nis the most dangerous of all is, that malignant disposition to which\nthis mode of contribution evidently tends, and which at length leaves\nthe comparatively indigent to judge of the wealth, and to prescribe to\nthe opulent, or those whom they conceive to be such, the use they are to\nmake of their fortunes. From thence it is but one step to the subversion\nof all property.\n\n\n\n\nHISTORICAL STRICTURES.\n\nThe author does not confine the benefit of the regicide lesson to kings\nalone. He has a diffusive bounty. Nobles, and men of property, will\nlikewise be greatly reformed. They too will be led to a review of\ntheir social situation and duties; \"and will reflect, that their large\nallotment of worldly advantages is for the aid and benefit of the\nwhole.\" Is it then from the fate of Juignie, archbishop of Paris, or\nof the cardinal de Rochefoucault, and of so many others, who gave their\nfortunes, and, I may say, their very beings, to the poor, that the rich\nare to learn, that their \"fortunes are for the aid and benefit of the\nwhole?\" I say nothing of the liberal persons of great rank and property,\nlay and ecclesiastic, men and women, to whom we have had the honour and\nhappiness of affording an asylum,--I pass by these, lest I should\nnever have done, or lest I should omit some as deserving as any I might\nmention. Why will the author then suppose, that the nobles and men of\nproperty in France have been banished, confiscated, and murdered, on\naccount of the savageness and ferocity of their character, and their\nbeing tainted with vices beyond those of the same order and description\nin other countries? No judge of a revolutionary tribunal, with his hands\ndipped in their blood, and his maw gorged with their property, has yet\ndared to assert what this author has been pleased, by way of a moral\nlesson, to insinuate.\n\nTheir nobility, and their men of property, in a mass, had the very same\nvirtues and the very same vices, and in the very same proportions, with\nthe same description of men in this and in other nations. I must do\njustice to suffering honour, generosity, and integrity. I do not know,\nthat any time, or any country, has furnished more splendid examples of\nevery virtue, domestic and public. I do not enter into the councils\nof Providence: but, humanly speaking, many of these nobles and men\nof property, from whose disastrous fate we are, it seems, to learn a\ngeneral softening of character, and a revision of our social situations\nand duties, appear to me full as little deserving of that fate, as the\nauthor, whoever he is, can be. Many of them, I am sure, were such, as I\nshould be proud indeed to be able to compare myself with, in knowledge,\nin integrity, and in every other virtue. My feeble nature might shrink,\nthough theirs did not, from the proof; but my reason and my ambition\ntell me, that it would be a good bargain to purchase their merits with\ntheir fate.\n\nFor which of his vices did that great magistrate, D'Espremenil, lose his\nfortune and his head? What were the abominations of Malesherbes, that\nother excellent magistrate, whose sixty years of uniform virtue was\nacknowledged, in the very act of his murder, by the judicial butchers,\nwho condemned him? On account of what misdemeanors was he robbed of his\nproperty, and slaughtered with two generations of his offspring; and the\nremains of the third race, with a refinement of cruelty, and lest they\nshould appear to reclaim the property forfeited by the virtues of their\nancestor, confounded in an hospital with the thousands of those unhappy\nfoundling infants, who are abandoned, without relation, and without\nname, by the wretchedness or by the profligacy of their parents?\n\nIs the fate of the queen of France to produce this softening of\ncharacter? Was she a person so very ferocious and cruel as, by the\nexample of her death, to frighten us into common humanity? Is there no\nway to teach the emperor a softening of character, and a review of his\nsocial situation and duty, but his consent, by an infamous accord with\nregicide, to drive a second coach with the Austrian arms through the\nstreets of Paris, along which, after a series of preparatory horrors,\nexceeding the atrocities of the bloody execution itself, the glory of\nthe imperial race had been carried to an ignominious death? Is this a\nlesson of MODERATION to a descendant of Maria Theresa, drawn from the\nfate of the daughter of that incomparable woman and sovereign? If he\nlearns this lesson from such an object, and from such teachers, the man\nmay remain, but the king is deposed. If he does not carry quite another\nmemory of that transaction in the inmost recesses of his heart, he is\nunworthy to reign; he is unworthy to live. In the chronicle of disgrace\nhe will have but this short tale told of him, \"he was the first emperor\nof his house that embraced a regicide: he was the last that wore\nthe imperial purple.\"--Far am I from thinking so ill of this august\nsovereign, who is at the head of the monarchies of Europe, and who is\nthe trustee of their dignities and his own. What ferocity of character\ndrew on the fate of Elizabeth, the sister of King Louis the Sixteenth?\nFor which of the vices of that pattern of benevolence, of piety, and of\nall the virtues, did they put her to death? For which of her vices did\nthey put to death the mildest of all human creatures, the duchess of\nBiron? What were the crimes of those crowds of matrons and virgins of\ncondition, whom they massacred, with their juries of blood, in prisons\nand on scaffolds? What were the enormities of the infant king, whom they\ncaused, by lingering tortures, to perish in their dungeon, and whom, if\nat last they despatched by poison, it was in that detestable crime the\nonly act of mercy they have ever shown?\n\nWhat softening of character is to be had, what review of their social\nsituations and duties is to be taught, by these examples, to kings, to\nnobles, to men of property, to women, and to infants? The royal family\nperished, because it was royal. The nobles perished, because they were\nnoble. The men, women, and children, who had property, because they had\nproperty to be robbed of. The priests were punished, after they had\nbeen robbed of their all, not for their vices, but for their virtues and\ntheir piety, which made them an honour to their sacred profession, and\nto that nature, of which we ought to be proud, since they belong to it.\nMy Lord, nothing can be learned from such examples, except the danger of\nbeing kings, queens, nobles, priests, and children, to be butchered on\naccount of their inheritance. These are things, at which not vice, not\ncrime, not folly, but wisdom, goodness, learning, justice, probity,\nbeneficence, stand aghast. By these examples our reason and our moral\nsense are not enlightened, but confounded; and there is no refuge for\nastonished and affrighted virtue, but being annihilated in humility\nand submission, sinking into a silent adoration of the inscrutable\ndispensations of Providence, and flying, with trembling wings, from this\nworld of daring crimes, and feeble, pusillanimous, half-bred, bastard\njustice, to the asylum of another order of things, in an unknown form,\nbut in a better life.\n\nWhatever the politician or preacher of September or of October may\nthink of the matter, it is a most comfortless, disheartening, desolating\nexample. Dreadful is the example of ruined innocence and virtue, and\nthe completest triumph of the completest villainy, that ever vexed\nand disgraced mankind! The example is ruinous in every point of view,\nreligious, moral, civil, political. It establishes that dreadful maxim\nof Machiavel, that in great affairs men are not to be wicked by halves.\nThis maxim is not made for a middle sort of beings, who, because they\ncannot be angels, ought to thwart their ambition, and not endeavour to\nbecome infernal spirits. It is too well exemplified in the present\ntime, where the faults and errors of humanity, checked by the imperfect\ntimorous virtues, have been overpowered by those who have stopped at no\ncrime. It is a dreadful part of the example, that infernal malevolence\nhas had pious apologists, who read their lectures on frailties in favour\nof crimes; who abandon the weak, and court the friendship of the wicked.\nTo root out these maxims, and the examples that support them, is a wise\nobject of years of war. This is that war. This is that moral war. It was\nsaid by old Trivulzio, that the battle of Marignan was the battle of\nthe giants, that all the rest of the many he had seen were those of\nthe cranes and pigmies. This is true of the objects, at least, of the\ncontest. For the greater part of those, which we have hitherto contended\nfor, in comparison, were the toys of children.\n\nThe October politician is so full of charity and good nature, that he\nsupposes, that these very robbers and murderers themselves are in a\ncourse of melioration; on what ground I cannot conceive, except on the\nlong practice of every crime, and by its complete success. He is an\nOrigenist, and believes in the conversion of the devil. All that runs\nin the place of blood in his veins is nothing but the milk of human\nkindness. He is as soft as a curd, though, as a politician, he might\nbe supposed to be made of sterner stuff. He supposes (to use his own\nexpression) \"that the salutary truths, which he inculcates, are making\ntheir way into their bosoms.\" Their bosom is a rock of granite, on which\nfalsehood has long since built her stronghold. Poor truth has had a hard\nwork of it with her little pickaxe. Nothing but gunpowder will do. As\na proof, however, of the progress of this sap of Truth, he gives us a\nconfession they had made not long before he wrote. \"Their fraternity\"\n(as was lately stated by themselves in a solemn report) \"has been\nthe brotherhood of Cain and Abel, and they have organized nothing but\nBankruptcy and Famine.\" A very honest confession, truly; and much in\nthe spirit of their oracle, Rousseau. Yet, what is still more marvellous\nthan the confession, this is the very fraternity to which our author\ngives us such an obliging invitation to accede. There is, indeed, a\nvacancy in the fraternal corps; a brother and a partner is wanted. If we\nplease, we may fill up the place of the butchered Abel; and, whilst we\nwait the destiny of the departed brother, we may enjoy the advantages of\nthe partnership, by entering, without delay, into a shop of ready-made\nbankruptcy and famine. These are the douceurs, by which we are invited\nto regicide fraternity and friendship. But still our author considers\nthe confession as a proof, that \"truth is making its way into their\nbosoms.\" No! It is not making its way into their bosoms. It has forced\nits way into their mouths! The evil spirit, by which they are possessed,\nthough essentially a liar, is forced, by the tortures of conscience, to\nconfess the truth: to confess enough for their condemnation, but not\nfor their amendment. Shakspeare very aptly expresses this kind of\nconfession, devoid of repentance, from the mouth of a usurper, a\nmurderer, and a regicide--\n\n    \"We are ourselves compelled,\n    Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,\n    To give in evidence.\"\n\nWhence is their amendment? Why, the author writes, that, on their\nmurderous insurrectionary system, their own lives are not sure for an\nhour; nor has their power a greater stability. True. They are convinced\nof it; and accordingly the wretches have done all they can to preserve\ntheir lives, and to secure their power; but not one step have they taken\nto amend the one, or to make a more just use of the other.\n\n\n\n\nCONSTITUTION NOT THE PEOPLE'S SLAVE.\n\nThere is one topic upon which I hope I shall be excused in going a\nlittle beyond my design. The factions, now so busy amongst us, in order\nto divest men of all love for their country, and to remove from their\nminds all duty with regard to the state, endeavour to propagate an\nopinion, that the PEOPLE, in forming their commonwealth, have by no\nmeans parted with their power over it. This is an impregnable citadel,\nto which these gentlemen retreat whenever they are pushed by the battery\nof laws and usages, and positive conventions. Indeed, it is such and of\nso great force, that all they have done, in defending their outworks, is\nso much time and labour thrown away. Discuss any of their schemes--their\nanswer is--It is the act of the PEOPLE, and that is sufficient. Are we\nto deny to a MAJORITY of the people the right of altering even the\nwhole frame of their society, if such should be their pleasure? They may\nchange it, say they, from a monarchy to a republic to-day, and to-morrow\nback again from a republic to a monarchy, and so backward and forward\nas often as they like. They are masters of the commonwealth; because in\nsubstance they are themselves the commonwealth. The French revolution,\nsay they, was the act of the majority of the people; and if the majority\nof any other people, the people of England for instance, wish to make\nthe same change, they have the same right. Just the same, undoubtedly.\nThat is, none at all. Neither the few nor the many have a right to\nact merely by their will, in any matter connected with duty, trust,\nengagement, or obligation. The constitution of a country being once\nsettled upon some compact, tacit or expressed, there is no power\nexisting of force to alter it, without the breach of the covenant, or\nthe consent of all the parties. Such is the nature of a contract.\nAnd the votes of a majority of the people, whatever their infamous\nflatterers may teach in order to corrupt their minds, cannot alter the\nmoral any more than they can alter the physical essence of things. The\npeople are not to be taught to think lightly of their engagements to\ntheir governors; else they teach governors to think lightly of their\nengagements towards them. In that kind of game in the end the people are\nsure to be losers. To flatter them into a contempt of faith, truth,\nand justice, is to ruin them; for in these virtues consist their whole\nsafety. To flatter any man, or any part of mankind, in any description,\nby asserting, that in engagements he or they are free whilst any other\nhuman creature is bound, is ultimately to vest the rule of morality\nin the pleasure of those who ought to be rigidly submitted to it; to\nsubject the sovereign reason of the world to the caprices of weak and\ngiddy men.\n\nBut, as no one of us men can dispense with public or private faith, or\nwith any other tie of moral obligation, so neither can any number of\nus. The number engaged in crimes, instead of turning them into laudable\nacts, only augments the quantity and intensity of the guilt. I am\nwell aware that men love to hear of their power, but have an extreme\ndisrelish to be told of their duty. This is of course, because every\nduty is a limitation of some power. Indeed arbitrary power is so much\nto the depraved taste of the vulgar, of the vulgar of every description,\nthat almost all the dissensions, which lacerate the commonwealth, are\nnot concerning the manner in which it is to be exercised, but concerning\nthe hands in which it is to be placed. Somewhere they are resolved to\nhave it. Whether they desire it to be vested in the many or the few,\ndepends with most men upon the chance which they imagine they themselves\nmay have of partaking in the exercise of that arbitrary sway, in the one\nmode or in the other.\n\nIt is not necessary to teach men to thirst after power. But it is very\nexpedient that by moral instruction, they should be taught, and by their\ncivil constitutions they should be compelled, to put many restrictions\nupon the immoderate exercise of it, and the inordinate desire. The best\nmethod of obtaining these two great points forms the important, but at\nthe same time the difficult, problem to the true statesman. He thinks\nof the place in which political power is to be lodged, with no other\nattention, than as it may render the more or the less practicable,\nits salutary restraint, and its prudent direction. For this reason no\nlegislator, at any period of the world, has willingly placed the seat of\nactive power in the hands of the multitude: because there it admits of\nno control no regulation, no steady direction whatsoever. The people\nare the natural control on authority; but to exercise and to control\ntogether is contradictory and impossible.\n\nAs the exorbitant exercise of power cannot, under popular sway, be\neffectually restrained, the other great object of political arrangement,\nthe means of abating an excessive desire of it, is in such a state still\nworse provided for. The democratic commonwealth is the foodful nurse of\nambition. Under the other forms it meets with many restraints. Whenever,\nin states which have had a democratic basis, the legislators have\nendeavoured to put restraints upon ambition, their methods were as\nviolent, as in the end they were ineffectual: as violent indeed as any\nthe most jealous despotism could invent. The ostracism could not very\nlong save itself, and much less the state which it was meant to guard,\nfrom the attempts of ambition, one of the natural, inbred, incurable\ndistempers of a powerful democracy.\n\n\n\n\nMODERN \"LIGHTS.\"\n\nGreat lights they say are lately obtained in the world; and Mr. Burke,\ninstead of shrouding himself in exploded ignorance, ought to have taken\nadvantage of the blaze of illumination which has been spread about\nhim. It may be so. The enthusiasts of this time, it seems, like their\npredecessors in another faction of fanaticism, deal in lights.--Hudibras\npleasantly says to them, they\n\n    \"Have LIGHTS, where better eyes are blind,\n     As pigs are said to see the wind.\"\n\nThe author of the Reflections has HEARD a great deal concerning the\nmodern lights; but he has not yet had the good fortune to SEE much of\nthem. He has read more than he can justify to anything but the spirit\nof curiosity, of the works of these illuminators of the world. He\nhas learned nothing from the far greater number of them, than a full\ncertainty of their shallowness, levity, pride, petulance, presumption,\nand ignorance. Where the old authors whom he has read, and the old men\nwhom he has conversed with, have left him in the dark, he is in the\ndark still. If others, however, have obtained any of this extraordinary\nlight, they will use it to guide them in their researches and their\nconduct. I have only to wish, that the nation may be as happy and as\nprosperous under the influence of the new light, as it has been in the\nsober shade of the old obscurity.\n\n\n\n\nREPUBLICS IN THE ABSTRACT.\n\nIn the same debate, Mr. Burke was represented by Mr. Fox as arguing in\na manner which implied that the British constitution could not be\ndefended, but by abusing all republics ancient and modern. He said\nnothing to give the least ground for such a censure. He never abused\nall republics. He has never professed himself a friend or an enemy\nto republics or to monarchies in the abstract. He thought that the\ncircumstances and habits of every country, which it is always perilous\nand productive of the greatest calamities to force, are to decide upon\nthe form of its government. There is nothing in his nature, his temper,\nor his faculties, which should make him an enemy to any republic modern\nor ancient. Far from it. He has studied the form and spirit of republics\nvery early in life; he has studied them with great attention; and with a\nmind undisturbed by affection or prejudice. He is indeed convinced that\nthe science of government would be poorly cultivated without that study.\nBut the result in his mind from that investigation has been, and is,\nthat neither England nor France, without infinite detriment to them,\nas well in the event as in the experiment, could be brought into a\nrepublican form; but that everything republican which can be introduced\nwith safety into either of them, must be built upon a monarchy; built\nupon a real, not a nominal, monarchy, AS ITS ESSENTIAL BASIS; that all\nsuch institutions, whether aristocratic or democratic, must originate\nfrom the crown, and in all their proceedings must refer to it; that by\nthe energy of that main spring alone those republican parts must be\nset in action, and from thence must derive their whole legal effect (as\namongst us they actually do), or the whole will fall into confusion.\nThese republican members have no other point but the crown in which they\ncan possibly unite.\n\nThis is the opinion expressed in Mr. Burke's book. He has never varied\nin that opinion since he came to years of discretion. But surely, if it\nany time of his life he had entertained other notions (which however he\nhas never held or professed to hold), the horrible calamities brought\nupon a great people, by the wild attempt to force their country into a\nrepublic, might be more than sufficient to undeceive his understanding,\nand to free it for ever from such destructive fancies. He is certain,\nthat many, even in France, have been made sick of their theories by\ntheir very success in realizing them.\n\n\n\n\nAN ENGLISH MONARCH.\n\nHe is a real king, and not an executive officer. If he will not trouble\nhimself with contemptible details, nor wish to degrade himself by\nbecoming a party in little squabbles, I am far from sure, that a king\nof Great Britain, in whatever concerns him as a king, or indeed as\na rational man, who combines his public interest with his personal\nsatisfaction, does not possess a more real, solid, extensive power, than\nthe king of France was possessed of before this miserable revolution.\nThe direct power of the king of England is considerable. His indirect,\nand far more certain power, is great indeed. He stands in need of\nnothing towards dignity; of nothing towards splendour; of nothing\ntowards authority; of nothing at all towards consideration abroad. When\nwas it that a king of England wanted wherewithal to make him respected,\ncourted, or perhaps even feared, in every state of Europe?\n\n\n\n\nPHYSIOGNOMY.\n\nThe PHYSIOGNOMY has a considerable share in beauty, especially in that\nof our own species. The manners give a certain determination to the\ncountenance; which, being observed to correspond pretty regularly with\nthem, is capable of joining the effect of certain agreeable qualities of\nthe mind to those of the body. So that to form a finished human beauty,\nand to give it its full influence, the face must be expressive of\nsuch gentle and amiable qualities, as correspond with the softness,\nsmoothness, and delicacy of the outward form.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EYE.\n\nI have hitherto purposely omitted to speak of the EYE, which has so\ngreat a share in the beauty of the animal creation, as it did not fall\nso easily under the foregoing heads, though in fact it is reducible to\nthe same principles. I think then, that the beauty of the eye consists,\nfirst, in its CLEARNESS; what COLOURED eye shall please most, depends a\ngood deal on particular fancies; but none are pleased with an eye whose\nwater (to use that term) is dull and muddy. We are pleased with the eye\nin this view, on the principle upon which we like diamonds, clear water,\nglass, and such-like transparent substances. Secondly, the motion of the\neye contributes to its beauty, by continually shifting its direction;\nbut a slow and languid motion is more beautiful than a brisk one; the\nlatter is enlivening; the former lovely. Thirdly, with regard to the\nunion of the eye with the neighbouring parts, it is to hold the same\nrule that is given of other beautiful ones; it is not to make a strong\ndeviation from the line of the neighbouring parts; nor to verge into any\nexact geometrical figure. Besides all this, the eye affects, as it\nis expressive of some qualities of the mind, and its principal power\ngenerally arises from this; so that what we have just said of the\nphysiognomy is applicable here.\n\n\n\n\nABOLITION AND USE OF PARLIAMENTS.\n\nAccording to their invariable course, the framers of your constitution\nhave begun with the outer abolition of the parliaments. These venerable\nbodies, like the rest of the old government, stood in need of reform,\neven though there should be no change made in the monarchy. They\nrequired several more alterations to adapt them to the system of a free\nconstitution. But they had particulars in their constitution, and those\nnot a few, which deserved approbation from the wise. They possessed\none fundamental excellence,--they were independent. The most doubtful\ncircumstance attendant on their office, that of its being vendible,\ncontributed however to this independency of character. They held for\nlife. Indeed they may be said to have held by inheritance. Appointed by\nthe monarch, they were considered as nearly out of his power. The most\ndetermined exertions of that authority against them only showed\ntheir radical independence. They composed permanent bodies politic,\nconstituted to resist arbitrary innovation; and from that corporate\nconstitution, and from most of their forms, they were well calculated\nto afford both certainty and stability to the laws. They had been a\nsafe asylum to secure these laws, in all the revolutions of humour and\nopinion. They had saved that sacred deposit of the country during the\nreigns of arbitrary princes, and the struggles of arbitrary factions.\nThey kept alive the memory and record of the constitution. They were the\ngreat security to private property; which might be said (when personal\nliberty had no existence) to be, in fact, as well guarded in France as\nin any other country. Whatever is supreme in a state, ought to have, as\nmuch as possible, its judicial authority so constituted as not only not\nto depend upon it, but in some sort to balance it. It ought to give\na security to its justice against its power. It ought to make its\njudicature, as it were, something exterior to the state. These\nparliaments had furnished, not the best certainly, but some considerable\ncorrective to the excesses and vices of the monarchy. Such an\nindependent judicature was ten times more necessary when a democracy\nbecame the absolute power of the country. In that constitution,\nelective, temporary, local judges, such as you have contrived,\nexercising their dependent functions in a narrow society, must be\nthe worst of all tribunals. In them it will be vain to look for any\nappearance of justice towards strangers, towards the obnoxious rich,\ntowards the minority of routed parties, towards all those who in the\nelection have supported unsuccessful candidates. It will be impossible\nto keep the new tribunals clear of the worst spirit of faction. All\ncontrivances by ballot we know experimentally to be vain and childish to\nprevent a discovery of inclinations. Where they may the best answer the\npurposes of concealment, they answer to produce suspicion; and this is a\nstill more mischievous cause of partiality.\n\nIf the parliaments had been preserved, instead of being dissolved at\nso ruinous a change to the nation, they might have served in this new\ncommonwealth, perhaps not precisely the same (I do not mean an exact\nparallel), but nearly the same, purposes as the court and senate of\nAreopagus did in Athens; that is, as one of the balances and correctives\nto the evils of a light and unjust democracy. Every one knows that this\ntribunal was the great stay of that state; every one knows with what a\ncare it was upheld, and with what a religious awe it was consecrated.\nThe parliaments were not wholly free from faction, I admit; but this\nevil was exterior and accidental, and not so much the vice of their\nconstitution itself, as it must be in your new contrivance of sexennial\nelective judicatories. Several English commend the abolition of the old\ntribunals, as supposing that they determined everything by bribery and\ncorruption. But they have stood the test of monarchic and republican\nscrutiny. The court was well disposed to prove corruption on those\nbodies when they were dissolved in 1771.--Those who have again dissolved\nthem would have done the same if they could--but both inquisitions\nhaving failed, I conclude, that gross pecuniary corruption must have\nbeen rather rare amongst them.\n\nIt would have been prudent, along with the parliaments, to preserve\ntheir ancient power of registering, and of remonstrating at least, upon\nall the decrees of the National Assembly, as they did upon those which\npassed in the time of the monarchy. It would be a means of squaring\nthe occasional decrees of a democracy to some principles of general\njurisprudence. The vice of the ancient democracies, and one cause\nof their ruin, was, that they ruled, as you do, by occasional\ndecrees,--psephismata. This practice soon broke in upon the tenor and\nconsistency of the laws; it abated the respect of the people towards\nthem; and totally destroyed them in the end.\n\nYour vesting the power of remonstrance, which, in the time of the\nmonarchy, existed in the parliament of Paris, in your principal\nexecutive officer, whom, in spite of common sense, you persevere in\ncalling king, is the height of absurdity. You ought never to suffer\nremonstrance from him who is to execute. This is to understand neither\ncounsel nor execution; neither authority nor obedience. The person whom\nyou call king, ought not to have this power, or he ought to have more.\n\n\n\n\nCROMWELL AND HIS CONTRASTS.\n\nCromwell, when he attempted to legalize his power, and to settle his\nconquered country in a state of order, did not look for dispensers of\njustice in the instruments of his usurpation. Quite the contrary. He\nsought out, with great solicitude and selection, and even from the party\nmost opposite to his designs, men of weight and decorum of character;\nmen unstained with the violence of the times, and with hands not fouled\nwith confiscation and sacrilege: for he chose an HALE for his chief\njustice, though he absolutely refused to take his civic oaths, or to\nmake any acknowledgment whatsoever of the legality of his government.\nCromwell told this great lawyer, that since he did not approve his\ntitle, all he required of him was, to administer, in a manner agreeable\nto his pure sentiments and unspotted character, that justice without\nwhich human society cannot subsist: that it was not his particular\ngovernment, but civil order itself, which, as a judge, he wished him to\nsupport. Cromwell knew how to separate the institutions expedient to his\nusurpation from the administration of the public justice of his country.\nFor Cromwell was a man in whom ambition had not wholly suppressed, but\nonly suspended, the sentiments of religion, and the love (as far as\nit could consist with his designs) of fair and honourable reputation.\nAccordingly, we are indebted to this act of his for the preservation of\nour laws, which some senseless assertors of the rights of men were then\non the point of entirely erasing, as relics of feudality and barbarism.\nBesides, he gave in the appointment of that man, to that age, and to\nall posterity, the most brilliant example of sincere and fervent piety,\nexact justice, and profound jurisprudence. (See Burnet's Life of Hale.)\nBut these are not the things in which your philosophic usurpers choose\nto follow Cromwell.\n\nOne would think, that after an honest and necessary revolution (if they\nhad a mind that theirs should pass for such) your masters would have\nimitated the virtuous policy of those who have been at the head of\nrevolutions of that glorious character. Burnet tells us, that nothing\ntended to reconcile the English nation to the government of King William\nso much as the care he took to fill the vacant bishoprics with men who\nhad attracted the public esteem by their learning, eloquence, and piety,\nand, above all, by their known moderation in the state. With you, in\nyour purifying revolution, whom have you chosen to regulate the church?\nMr. Mirabeau is a fine speaker--and a fine writer,--and a fine--a very\nfine man;--but really nothing gave more surprise to everybody here, than\nto find him the supreme head of your ecclesiastical affairs. The rest is\nof course. Your Assembly addresses a manifesto to France, in which they\ntell the people, with an insulting irony, that they have brought the\nchurch to its primitive condition. In one respect their declaration is\nundoubtedly true; for they have brought it to a state of poverty and\npersecution. What can be hoped for after this? Have not men (if they\ndeserve the name), under this new hope and head of the church, been made\nbishops for no other merit than having acted as instruments of atheists;\nfor no other merit than having thrown the children's bread to dogs;\nand in order to gorge the whole gang of usurers, pedlars, and itinerant\nJew-discounters at the corners of streets, starved the poor of their\nChristian flocks, and their own brother pastors? Have not such men\nbeen made bishops to administer in temples, in which (if the patriotic\ndonations have not already stripped them of their vessels) the\nchurchwardens ought to take security for the altar-plate, and not so\nmuch as to trust the chalice in their sacrilegious hands, so long as\nJews have assignats on ecclesiastic plunder, to exchange for the silver\nstolen from churches?\n\n\n\n\nDELICACY.\n\nAn air of robustness and strength is very prejudicial to beauty. An\nappearance of DELICACY, and even of fragility, is almost essential to\nit. Whoever examines the vegetable or animal creation will find this\nobservation to be founded in nature. It is not the oak, the ash, or\nthe elm, or any of the robust trees of the forest, which we consider\nas beautiful; they are awful and majestic; their inspire a sort of\nreverence. It is the delicate myrtle, it is the orange, it is the\nalmond, it is the jasmine, it is the vine, which we look on as vegetable\nbeauties. It is the flowery species, so remarkable for its weakness\nand momentary duration, that gives us the liveliest idea of beauty\nand elegance. Among animals, the greyhound is more beautiful than the\nmastiff; and the delicacy of a gennet, a barb, or an Arabian horse, is\nmuch more amiable than the strength and stability of some horses of war\nor carriage. I need here say little of the fair sex, where I believe\nthe point will be easily allowed me. The beauty of women is considerably\nowing to their weakness or delicacy, and is even enhanced by their\ntimidity, a quality of mind analogous to it. I would not here be\nunderstood to say, that weakness betraying very bad health has any share\nin beauty; but the ill effect of this is not because it is weakness, but\nbecause the ill state of health, which produces such weakness, alters\nthe other conditions of beauty; the parts in such a case collapse; the\nbright colour,--the lumen purpureum juventae, is gone; and the fine\nvariation is lost in wrinkles, sudden breaks, and right lines.\n\n\n\n\nCONFISCATION AND CURRENCY.\n\nAs to the operation of the first (the confiscation and paper currency)\nmerely as a cement, I cannot deny that these, the one depending on the\nother, may for some time compose some sort of cement, if their madness\nand folly in the management, and in the tempering of the parts together,\ndoes not produce a repulsion in the very outset. But allowing to the\nscheme some coherence and some duration, it appears to me, that if,\nafter a while, the confiscation should not be found sufficient to\nsupport the paper coinage (as I am morally certain it will not), then,\ninstead of cementing, it will add infinitely to the dissociation,\ndistraction, and confusion of these confederate republics, both with\nrelation to each other, and to the several parts within themselves. But\nif the confiscation should so far succeed as to sink the paper currency,\nthe cement is gone with the circulation. In the mean time its binding\nforce will be very uncertain, and it will straiten or relax with every\nvariation in the credit of the paper.\n\nOne thing only is certain in this scheme, which is an effect seemingly\ncollateral, but direct, I have no doubt, in the minds of those who\nconduct this business, that is, its effect in producing an OLIGARCHY in\nevery one of the republics. A paper circulation, not founded on any\nreal money deposited or engaged for, amounting already to four-and-forty\nmillions of English money, and this currency by force substituted in the\nplace of the coin of the kingdom, becoming thereby the substance of\nits revenue, as well as the medium of all its commercial and civil\nintercourse, must put the whole of what power, authority, and influence,\nis left, in any form whatsoever it may assume, into the hands of the\nmanagers and conductors of this circulation.\n\nIn England we feel the influence of the bank; though it is only the\ncentre of a voluntary dealing. He knows little indeed of the influence\nof money upon mankind, who does not see the force of the management of\na monied concern, which is so much more extensive, and in its nature so\nmuch more depending on the managers than any of ours. But this is\nnot merely a money concern. There is another member in the system\ninseparably connected with this money management. It consists in the\nmeans of drawing out at discretion portions of the confiscated lands for\nsale; and carrying on a process of continual transmutation of paper\ninto land, and of land into paper. When we follow this process in its\neffects, we may conceive something of the intensity of the force\nwith which this system must operate. By this means the spirit of\nmoney-jobbing and speculation goes into the mass of land itself,\nand incorporates with it. By this kind of operation, that species of\nproperty becomes (as it were) volatilized; it assumes an unnatural and\nmonstrous activity, and thereby throws into the hands of the several\nmanagers, principal and subordinate, Parisian and provincial, all the\nrepresentative of money, and perhaps a full tenth part of all the land\nin France, which has now acquired the worst and most pernicious part of\nthe evil of a paper circulation,--the greatest possible uncertainty\nin its value. They have reversed the Latonian kindness to the landed\nproperty of Delos. They have sent theirs to be blown about, like the\nlight fragments of a wreck, oras et littora circum.\n\nThe new dealers, being all habitually adventurers, and without any fixed\nhabits or local predilections, will purchase to job out again, as the\nmarket of paper, or of money, or of land, shall present an advantage.\nFor though a holy bishop thinks that agriculture will derive great\nadvantage from the \"ENLIGHTENED\" usurers who are to purchase the church\nconfiscations, I, who am not a good, but an old farmer, with great\nhumility beg leave to tell his late lordship, that usury is not tutor\nof agriculture; and if the word \"enlightened\" be understood according\nto the new dictionary, as it always is in your new schools, I cannot\nconceive how a man's not believing in God can teach him to cultivate\nthe earth with the least of any additional skill or encouragement. \"Diis\nimmortalibus sero,\" said an old Roman, when he held one handle of the\nplough, whilst Death held the other. Though you were to join in the\ncommission all the directors of the two academies to the directors of\nthe Caisse d'Escompte, an old experienced peasant is worth them all.\nI have got more information upon a curious and interesting branch of\nhusbandry, in one short conversation with an old Carthusian monk, than\nI have derived from all the Bank directors that I have ever conversed\nwith. However, there is no cause for apprehension from the meddling of\nmoney-dealers with rural economy. These gentlemen are too wise in their\ngeneration. At first, perhaps, their tender and susceptible imaginations\nmay be captivated with the innocent and unprofitable delights of a\npastoral life; but in a little time they will find that agriculture is a\ntrade much more laborious, and much less lucrative, than that which they\nhad left. After making its panegyric, they will turn their backs on it\nlike their great precursor and prototype. They may, like him, begin by\nsinging \"Beatus ille\"--but what will be the end?\n\n    \"Haec ubi locutus foenerator Alphius,\n     Jamjam futurus rusticus\n     Omnem relegit Idibus pecuniam;\n     Quaerit Calendis ponere.\"\n\nThey will cultivate the Caisse d'Eglise, under the sacred auspices\nof this prelate, with much more profit than its vineyards and its\ncorn-fields. They will employ their talents according to their habits\nand their interests. They will not follow the plough whilst they can\ndirect treasuries, and govern provinces.\n\nYour legislators, in everything new, are the very first who have founded\na commonwealth upon gaming, and infused this spirit into it, as its\nvital breath. The great object in these politics is to metamorphose\nFrance from a great kingdom into one great play-table: to turn its\ninhabitants into a nation of gamesters; to make speculation as extensive\nas life; to mix it with all its concerns; and to divert the whole of\nthe hopes and fears of the people from their usual channels into the\nimpulses, passions, and superstitions of those who live on chances.\nThey loudly proclaim their opinion, that this their present system of\na republic cannot possibly exist without this kind of gaming fund; and\nthat the very thread of its life is spun out of the staple of\nthese speculations. The old gaming in funds was mischievous enough\nundoubtedly; but it was so only to individuals. Even when it had its\ngreatest extent in the Mississippi and South Sea, it affected but few,\ncomparatively; where it extends further, as in lotteries, the spirit\nhas but a single object. But where the law, which in most circumstances\nforbids, and in none countenances, gaming, is itself debauched, so as\nto reverse its nature and policy, and expressly to force the subject\nto this destructive table, by bringing the spirit and symbols of\ngaming into the minutest matters, and engaging everybody in it, and in\neverything, a more dreadful epidemic distemper of that kind is spread\nthan yet has appeared in the world. With you a man can neither earn nor\nbuy his dinner without a speculation. What he receives in the morning\nwill not have the same value at night. What he is compelled to take as\npay for an old debt will not be received as the same when he comes to\npay a debt contracted by himself; nor will it be the same when by prompt\npayment he would avoid contracting any debt at all. Industry must wither\naway. Economy must be driven from your country. Careful provision will\nhave no existence. Who will labour without knowing the amount of\nhis pay? Who will study to increase what none can estimate? Who will\naccumulate, when he does not know the value of what he saves? If you\nabstract it from its uses in gaming, to accumulate your paper wealth,\nwould be not the providence of a man, but the distempered instinct of a\njackdaw.\n\n\n\n\n\"OMNIPOTENCE OF CHURCH PLUNDER.\"\n\nTheir fanatical confidence in the omnipotence of church plunder has\ninduced these philosophers to overlook all care of the public estate,\njust as the dream of the philosopher's stone induces dupes, under the\nmore plausible delusion of the hermetic art, to neglect all rational\nmeans of improving their fortunes. With these philosophic financiers,\nthis universal medicine made of church mummy is to cure all the evils of\nthe state. These gentlemen, perhaps, do not believe a great deal in\nthe miracles of piety; but it cannot be questioned, that they have an\nundoubting faith in the prodigies of sacrilege. Is there a debt which\npresses them?--Issue assignats. Are compensations to be made, or a\nmaintenance decreed to those whom they have robbed of their freehold in\ntheir office, or expelled from their profession?--Assignats. Is a fleet\nto be fitted out?--Assignats. If sixteen millions sterling of these\nassignats, forced on the people, leave the wants of the state as urgent\nas ever--issue, says one, thirty millions sterling of assignats--says\nanother, issue fourscore millions more of assignats. The only difference\namong their financial factions is on the greater or the lesser quantity\nof assignats to be imposed on the public sufferance. They are all\nprofessors of assignats. Even those, whose natural good sense and\nknowledge of commerce, not obliterated by philosophy, furnish decisive\narguments against this delusion conclude their arguments by proposing\nthe emission of assignats. I suppose they must talk of assignats, as no\nother language would be understood. All experience of their inefficacy\ndoes not in the least discourage them. Are the old assignats depreciated\nat market? What is the remedy? Issue new assignats.--Mais si maladia\nopiniatria, non vult se garire, quid illi facere? assignare--postea\nassignare; ensuita assignare. The word is a trifle altered. The Latin of\nyour present doctors may be better than that of your old comedy; their\nwisdom and the variety of their resources are the same. They have not\nmore notes in their song than the cuckoo; though, far from the softness\nof that harbinger of summer and plenty, their voice is as harsh and as\nominous as that of the raven.\n\n\n\n\nUGLINESS.\n\nIt may, perhaps, appear like a sort of repetition of what we have before\nsaid, to insist here upon the nature of UGLINESS; as I imagine it to be\nin all respects the opposite to those qualities which we have laid down\nfor the constituents of beauty. But though ugliness be the opposite\nto beauty, it is not the opposite to proportion and fitness. For it is\npossible that a thing may be very ugly with any proportions, and with\na perfect fitness to any uses. Ugliness I imagine likewise to be\nconsistent enough with an idea of the sublime. But I would by no means\ninsinuate that ugliness of itself is a sublime idea, unless united with\nsuch qualities as excite a strong terror.\n\n\n\n\nGRACE.\n\nGRACEFULNESS is an idea not very different from beauty; it consists in\nmuch the same things. Gracefulness is an idea belonging to POSTURE and\nMOTION. In both these, to be graceful, it is requisite that there be no\nappearance of difficulty; there is required a small inflection of the\nbody; and a composure of the parts in such a manner, as not to encumber\neach other, not to appear divided by sharp and sudden angles. In this\nease, this roundness, this delicacy of attitude and motion, it is that\nall the magic of grace consists, and what is called its je ne sais quoi;\nas will be obvious to any observer, who considers attentively the Venus\nde Medicis, the Antinous, or any statue generally allowed to be graceful\nin a high degree.\n\n\n\n\nELEGANCE AND SPECIOUSNESS.\n\nWhen any body is composed of parts smooth and polished, without pressing\nupon each other, without showing any ruggedness or confusion, and at the\nsame time affecting some REGULAR SHAPE, I call it ELEGANT. It is closely\nallied to the beautiful, differing from it only in this REGULARITY;\nwhich, however, as it makes a very material difference in the affection\nproduced, may very well constitute another species. Under this head\nI rank those delicate and regular works of art, that imitate no\ndeterminate object in nature, as elegant buildings, and pieces of\nfurniture. When any object partakes of the above-mentioned qualities,\nare of those of beautiful bodies, and is withal of great dimensions,\nit is full as remote from the idea of mere beauty: I call it FINE or\nSPECIOUS.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL IN FEELING.\n\nThe foregoing description of beauty, so far as it is taken in by the\neye, may be greatly illustrated by describing the nature of objects\nwhich produce a similar effect through the touch. This I call the\nbeautiful in FEELING. It corresponds wonderfully with what causes the\nsame species of pleasure to the sight. There is a chain in all our\nsensations; they are all but different sorts of feelings calculated to\nbe affected by various sorts of objects, but all to be affected after\nthe same manner. All bodies that are pleasant to the touch, are so by\nthe slightness of the resistance they make. Resistance is either\nto motion along the surface, or to the pressure of the parts on one\nanother: if the former be slight, we call the body smooth; if the\nlatter, soft. The chief pleasure we receive by feeling, is in the one or\nthe other of these qualities; and if there be a combination of both, our\npleasure is greatly increased. This is so plain, that it is rather more\nfit to illustrate other things, than to be illustrated itself by an\nexample. The next source of pleasure in this sense, as in every other,\nis the continually presenting somewhat new; and we find that bodies\nwhich continually vary their surface, are much the most pleasant or\nbeautiful to the feeling, as any one that pleases may experience. The\nthird property in such objects is, that though the surface continually\nvaries its direction, it never varies it suddenly. The application\nof anything sudden, even though the impression itself have little or\nnothing of violence, is disagreeable. The quick application of a finger\na little warmer or colder than usual, without notice, makes us start; a\nslight tap on the shoulder, not expected, has the same effect. Hence it\nis that angular bodies, bodies that suddenly vary the direction of the\noutline, afford so little pleasure to the feeling. Every such change is\na sort of climbing or falling in miniature; so that squares, triangles,\nand other angular figures, are neither beautiful to the sight nor\nfeeling. Whoever compares his state of mind, on feeling soft, smooth,\nvariated, unangular bodies, with that in which he finds himself on the\nview of a beautiful object, will perceive a very striking analogy in the\neffects of both; and which may go a good way towards discovering their\ncommon cause. Feeling and sight, in this respect, differ in but a\nfew points. The touch takes in the pleasure of softness, which is not\nprimarily an object of sight; the sight, on the other hand, comprehends\ncolour, which can hardly be made perceptible to the touch: the touch\nagain has the advantage in a new idea of pleasure resulting from a\nmoderate degree of warmth; but the eye triumphs in the infinite extent\nand multiplicity of its objects. But there is such a similitude in the\npleasures of these senses, that I am apt to fancy, if it were possible\nthat one might discern colour by feeling (as it is said some blind\nmen have done), that the same colours, and the same disposition of\ncolouring, which are found beautiful to the sight, would be found\nlikewise most grateful to the touch. But, setting aside conjectures, let\nus pass to the other sense: of Hearing.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL IN SOUNDS.\n\nIn this sense we find an equal aptitude to be affected in a soft and\ndelicate manner; and how far sweet or beautiful sounds agree with our\ndescriptions of beauty in other senses, the experience of every one\nmust decide. Milton has described this species of music in one of his\njuvenile poems. (L'Allegro.) I need not say that Milton was perfectly\nwell versed in that art; and that no man had a finer ear, with a happier\nmanner of expressing the affections of one sense by metaphors taken from\nanother. The description is as follows:--\n\n    --\"And ever against eating cares,\n    Lap me in SOFT Lydian airs:\n    In notes with many a WINDING bout\n    Of LINKED SWEETNESS LONG DRAWN out;\n    With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,\n    The MELTING voice through MAZES running;\n    UNTWISTING all the chains that tie\n    The hidden soul of harmony.\"\n\nLet us parallel this with the softness, the winding surface, the\nunbroken continuance, the easy gradation of the beautiful in other\nthings; and all the diversities of the several senses, with all their\nseveral affections; will rather help to throw lights from one another\nto finish one clear, consistent idea of the whole, than to obscure it by\ntheir intricacy and variety.\n\nTo the above-mentioned description I shall add one or two remarks. The\nfirst is; that the beautiful in music will not bear that loudness and\nstrength of sounds, which may be used to raise other passions; nor notes\nwhich are shrill or harsh, or deep; it agrees best with such as are\nclear, even, smooth, and weak. The second is: that great variety, and\nquick transitions from one measure or tone to another, are contrary\nto the genius of the beautiful in music. Such transitions often excite\nmirth, or other sudden or tumultuous passions; but not that sinking,\nthat melting, that languor, which is the characteristical effect of the\nbeautiful as it regards every sense. (I ne'er am merry when I hear sweet\nmusic.--Shakspeare.) The passion excited by beauty is in fact nearer to\na species of melancholy, than to jollity and mirth. I do not here mean\nto confine music to any one species of notes, or tones, neither is it\nan art in which I can say I have any great skill. My sole design in this\nremark is, to settle a consistent idea of beauty. The infinite variety\nof the affections of the soul will suggest to a good head, and skilful\near, a variety of such sounds as are fitted to raise them. It can be no\nprejudice to this, to clear and distinguish some few particulars, that\nbelong to the same class, and are consistent with each other, from the\nimmense crowd of different, and sometimes contradictory, ideas, that\nrank vulgarly under the standard of beauty. And of these it is my\nintention to mark such only of the leading points as show the conformity\nof the sense of hearing with the other senses, in the article of their\npleasures.\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH CHURCH.\n\nIt is something extraordinary, that the only symptom of alarm in the\nChurch of England should appear in the petition of some dissenters; with\nwhom, I believe, very few in this house are yet acquainted; and of whom\nyou know no more than that you are assured by the honourable gentleman,\nthat they are not Mahometans. Of the Church we know they are not, by the\nname that they assume. They are then dissenters. The first symptom of an\nalarm comes from some dissenters assembled round the lines of Chatham;\nthese lines become the security of the Church of England! The honourable\ngentleman, in speaking of the lines of Chatham, tells us that they serve\nnot only for the security of the wooden walls of England, but for the\ndefence of the Church of England. I suspect the wooden walls of England\nsecure the lines of Chatham, rather than the lines of Chatham secure the\nwooden walls of England.\n\nSir, the Church of England, if only defended by this miserable petition\nupon your table, must, I am afraid, upon the principles of true\nfortification, be soon destroyed. But fortunately her walls, bulwarks,\nand bastions, are constructed of other materials than of stubble and\nstraw; are built up with the strong and stable matter of the gospel of\nliberty, and founded on a true, constitutional, legal establishment.\nBut, Sir, she has other securities; she has the security of her own\ndoctrines; she has the security of the piety, the sanctity of her own\nprofessors; their learning is a bulwark to defend her; she has the\nsecurity of the two universities, not shook in any single battlement, in\nany single pinnacle. ...\n\nBut if, after all, this danger is to be apprehended, if you are really\nfearful that Christianity will indirectly suffer by this liberty, you\nhave my free consent; go directly, and by the straight way, and not by a\ncircuit, in which in your road you may destroy your friends, point your\narms against these men who do the mischief you fear promoting; point\nyour arms against men, who, not contented with endeavouring to turn\nyour eyes from the blaze and effulgence of light, by which life and\nimmortality is so gloriously demonstrated by the Gospel, would even\nextinguish that faint glimmering of nature, that only comfort supplied\nto ignorant man before this great illumination--them who, by attacking\neven the possibility of all revelation, arraign all the dispensations\nof Providence to man. These are the wicked dissenters you ought to fear;\nthese are the people against whom you ought to aim the shafts of law;\nthese are the men to whom, arrayed in all the terrors of government,\nI would say, You shall not degrade us into brutes; these men, these\nfactious men, as the honourable gentleman properly called them, are the\njust objects of vengeance, not the conscientious dissenter; these\nmen, who would take away whatever ennobles the rank or consoles\nthe misfortunes of human nature, by breaking off that connection of\nobservations, of affections, of hopes and fears, which bind us to the\nDivinity, and constitute the glorious and distinguishing prerogative of\nhumanity, that of being a religious creature; against these I would have\nthe laws rise in all their majesty of terrors, to fulminate such vain\nand impious wretches, and to awe them into impotence by the only\ndread they can fear or believe, to learn that eternal lesson--Discite\njustitiam moniti, et non temnere Divos.\n\nAt the same time that I would cut up the very root of atheism, I would\nrespect all conscience; all conscience, that is really such, and which\nperhaps its very tenderness proves to be sincere. I wish to see the\nestablished Church of England great and powerful; I wish to see her\nfoundations laid low and deep, that she may crush the giant powers of\nrebellious darkness; I would have her head raised up to that heaven to\nwhich she conducts us. I would have her open wide her hospitable gates\nby a noble and liberal comprehension; but I would have no breaches in\nher wall; I would have her cherish all those who are within, and pity\nall those who are without; I would have her a common blessing to the\nworld, an example, if not an instructor, to those who have not the\nhappiness to belong to her; I would have her give a lesson of peace to\nmankind, that a vexed and wandering generation might be taught to seek\nfor repose and toleration in the maternal bosom of Christian charity,\nand not in the harlot lap of infidelity and indifference.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\nAbstract views, on the danger of.\n\nAbstract words, effects of.\n\nAccumulation a state principle.\n\nAdministration and legislation, on the due balance of.\n\nAge, our own, on the injustice paid to.\n\nAlfred the Great, political genius of.--the promoter of learning.--his\nreligious character.\n\nAmbassadors of infamy, their tyranny.\n\nAmbition, incentives of.--disappointed, picture of.\n\nAmerica, great national progress of.--on her resistance to taxation.--on\nher early colonization, and the greatness of her future.--on the\nProtestantism of.--on the embassy of England to.\n\nAnalogy, on the pleasures of.\n\nAnarchy contrasted and compared with reformation.\n\nArchitecture, influence of.\n\nArmed discipline, necessity of.\n\nArt, on correct judgment in.\n\n\"Articles\" of the Church, necessity of the.\n\nAtheism, atrocious principles of.--incapable of repentance.\n\nAtheists, literary, their proselytism and bigotry.\n\nAttraction, Newton's discovery of the property of.\n\nAuthority, abuses of, dangerous.\n\nAxioms, political.\n\nBarons, English, on the restraints imposed upon the.\n\nBathurst, Lord, on his recollections of American colonization.\n\nBeautiful, what constitutes the.--in feeling, Burke's ideas of.--in\nsounds, on our general ideas of.\n\nBeauty, delicacy essential to.--female, on the influence of.\n\nBedford, duke of, on the royal grants to.--on his attacks on Mr.\nBurke.--reply to \"his Grace.\"\n\nBribery, objects and evils of.\n\nBritain, her war with France vindicated.--state of, at the time of the\nSaxon conquest.--the ancient inhabitants of.\n\nBritish dominion in the East Indies, on the extent of.\n\nBritish stability, on the principles and duration of.\n\nBuilding, on magnitude in, necessary to sublimity.\n\nBurke, Edmund, his defence of his political principles.--the design of,\nin his greatest work.\n\nCabal, on the tactics of.\n\nCandid policy, on the advantages of, to a government.\n\nCarnatic, dreadful scenes in the.--war and desolation of the.\n\nCarnot, the sanguinary tyranny of.\n\nCharacter, private, a basis for public confidence.\n\nCharlemagne, on the conquests of.\n\nChatham, Lord, his great qualities.--his political errors.\n\nChivalry, on the moralizing charm of.\n\nChristian religion, the idea of divinity humanized by the. --state of,\nat the time of the Saxon conquest.\n\nChristianity, on the profession of.--means adopted for its early\nestablishment.\n\nChurch of England, its outward dignity defended.--the state consecrated\nby the.--on the \"Articles\" of the.--eulogy on the.\n\nChurch and State, on the unity between.--one and the same in a Christian\ncommonwealth.\n\n\"Church plunder, omnipotence of!\"\n\nChurch property, on the existence and preservation of.\n\nCircumstances, on the nature of.\n\nCivil freedom a blessing, and not an abstract speculation.\n\nCivil list, advantages of reform in the.\n\nCivil rights, on the nature of.\n\nCivil society, on the true basis of.\n\nClaims, personal and ancestral.\n\nCoalitions, false, instability of.\n\nColonies, on the art of cementing the ties of.--on their right to the\nadvantages of the British constitution.--on their progress.\n\nCombination, distinct from faction.\n\nCommerce, one of the great sources of our power.--on the philosophy of.\n\nCommon law, on its ancient constitution.\n\nCommon Pleas, on the early establishment of.\n\nCommons. See \"House of.\"\n\nCommonwealth, on the science of constructing a.\n\nComparison, utility and advantages of.\n\nConcession, on the wisdom of, on the part of a government.\n\nConfidence of the people, necessity of the.--political, dangers\nof.--public, private character a basis for.--reciprocal, on the\nnecessity of.\n\nConfiscation, arising from the paper currency.\n\nConservation, progress and principles of.\n\nConstituents, on the power and control of.\n\nConstitution of England, liberty its distinguishing feature.--on\nthe right of the colonies to its advantages.--not fabricated but\ninherited.--majesty of the.--not the slave of the people.\n\nConsumption and produce, the balance between settles the price of.\n\nContact, on the assimilating power of.\n\nContracted views, on the pettiness of.\n\nConway, General, eulogy on.\n\nCorporate reform, on the difficulty and wisdom of.\n\nCorrection, on the principle of, in connection with conservation.\n\nCorruption, public, evil consequences of.--cannot be self-reformed.\n\nCowardice, political, contemptibility of.\n\nCredit, national, on the advantages of.\n\nCromwell, the government of, contrasted with that of the French\nrevolution.\n\nCrown, its influence.--on pensions from the.--its prerogative.--on the\nhereditary succession of the.\n\nCruelty, political, reckless oppression of.\n\nCuriosity, the most superficial of all the affections.\n\nDanes, their early dominion.\n\n\"Declaration of 1793,\" against France.\n\nDeity, contemplation of his attributes.\n\nDelicacy essential to beauty.\n\nDemocracy, a perfect one the most shameless thing in the world.--its\nresemblance to tyranny.\n\nDemocrats, inconsistency of.\n\nDespotism courts obscurity, and shuns the light.--on the\ndefective policy of.--of the age of Louis XIV., a mere gilded\ntyranny.--monarchical, preferable to republican.\n\nD'Espremenil, sacrifice of.\n\nDifficulty, on contentions with.\n\nDirectory of France, its insolent assumption.\n\nDissent, on Dr. Price's preaching the democracy of.\n\nDissenters, animadversions on the.\n\nDistraction, on the evils of.\n\nDivine power, its influences on the human idea.\n\nDivinity, our idea of the, humanized by the Christian religion.\n\nDruids, their knowledge and influence.\n\nDuty, not based on will.\n\nEast-India Company, on the bill for controlling the political power\nof.--See \"India.\"\n\nEcclesiastical confiscation, on the injustice of.\n\nEconomy, on the state principles of.--does not consist of\nparsimony.--and public spirit, advantage of.\n\nElection, on Wilkes's right of.\n\nElections, frequent, on the evil tendency of.--expenses of.\n\nElectors, on the conduct and duties of.\n\nElegance, Burke's ideas of.\n\nElizabeth, Princess, of France, sanguinary treatment of.\n\nEngland, on the magnanimity of her people.\n\nEnglish character, on French ignorance of.\n\nEstablishments, ancient, on the advantages of.\n\nEternity little understood.\n\nEtiquette, on its ancient and modern application.\n\nEurope, on the state of, in 1789.--at the time of the Norman invasion.\n\nEuropean community, on the principles of.\n\nExaggeration, evils of.\n\nExtremes, on the fallacy of.\n\nEye, the, its characteristics of beauty.\n\nFaction, combination distinct from.--what it ought to teach.\n\nFalkland Island, fisheries extended to.\n\nFalse regret, to be lamented.\n\nFavouritism of government the cause of popular ferment.\n\nFemale beauty, on the influence of.\n\nFeudal baronage, the root of our primitive constitution.--principles,\ntheir history and application to modern times.--changes effected\nin.--law, principles of the.\n\nFisheries of New England; on the hardy spirit with which they are\nconducted.\n\nFlattery, the reverse of instruction.\n\nFox, Right Hon. Charles, eulogy on.--Burke's confidence in.\n\nFrance, on the dangers arising from.--her revolution of 1789.--frightful\nscenes of the.--founded on regicide, Jacobinism, and atheism.--war\nwith, vindicated.--reflections on her revolution.--the existing state\nof things in, productive of the worst evils.--on the political and\nintellectual greatness of.--the great political changes of.--revolution\nof, a complete one.--early conquests and dominion of.--declaration of\nEngland against, in 1793.--false policy in our war with.--historical\nstrictures on.--atrocities perpetrated in.\n\nFreedom, a blessing and not an abstract speculation.--character of just\nfreedom.--on the conservative progress of.\n\nFrench, natural self-destruction of the.\n\nGaul, the ancient inhabitants of.\n\nGentleman, our civilization dependent on the spirit of a.\n\nGlory, difficulty the path to.\n\nGod, contemplations of His attributes;--on the adorable wisdom of.\n\nGovernment, on the evils of weakness in.--on the influence of place\nin.--on the advantages of candid policy in.--virtue and wisdom\nqualify for.--not made in virtue of natural rights.--not to be\nrashly censured.--on the duties of.--principles of, not absolute but\nrelative.--general views of the foundations of.--and legislation,\nmatters of reason and judgment.--favouritism, the cause of popular\nferment.\n\nGracefulness, on our ideas of.\n\nGrant, on Burke's acceptance of a.\n\nGreat men, the guide-posts and landmarks of the State.\n\nGreen Cloth, origin of the ancient Court of.\n\nGrenville, Right Hon. Mr., his great political qualities and character.\n\nGrievance and opinion, on the different qualities of.\n\nGrievances by law, on the different views of.\n\nHenry IV. of France, sovereign qualities of.\n\nHeroism, moral, on the virtues of.\n\n\"His Grace,\" Burke's reply to.\n\nHistory, on the moral of.--on the use of defects in.--on the perversion\nof.--speculations on.--strictures on, as connected with France.\n\nHouse of Commons, its nature and functions.--on the control of\nthe constituency over.--Mr. Burke's preparation for the.--its\nconstitution.--privilege of the.--contrasted with the National Assembly\nof France.\n\nHoward, the philanthropist, his genius and humanity.\n\nHuman ideas, on the influence of divine power on.\n\nHuman nature, on the libellers of.\n\nHumiliation, on the diplomacy of.\n\nHyder Ali, on his formidable military operations in the Carnatic.\n\nIdeal, definition of the.\n\nImagination, unity of.\n\nImitation an instructive law.\n\nImpartiality, appeal to.\n\nImperial power, its establishment in Western Europe.\n\nImpracticable, the, not to be desired.\n\nIndia, East, on the territorial extent of British dominion in.--on\nits opulence and importance.--necessity of reforming the government\nof.--Hyder Ali's formidable military resistance.--on the British\ngovernment in.\n\nIndividual good and public benefit, a comparison of.\n\nInduction, on the process of.\n\nInfidels, on the policy of.\n\nInfinity, little understood.\n\nInjustice, economy of.\n\nInnovation, on the madness of.\n\nInvestigation, the best method of teaching.\n\nIreland, on the legislation of.\n\nIreland and Magna Charta, historical notices of.\n\nJacobin peace, on the perils of.\n\nJacobin war, on the true nature of a.\n\nJacobinism, atrocious principles of.--ferocity of.\n\nJealousy, political, different under different circumstances.\n\nJohn, King, on his difficulties with the pope.\n\nJurisprudence, on the science of.\n\nJustice, early reform in the administration of.\n\nKeppel, Lord, one of the greatest and best men of his age.--his exalted\nvirtues.\n\nKings, the power of, not based on popular choice.\n\nLabour, on the necessity of.--on the importance of.--rises or falls\naccording to the demand.\n\nLabouring classes poor, because they are numerous.--on the moral\nhappiness of the.\n\n\"Labouring poor,\" on the puling jargon respecting the.--on the canting\nphraseology of.--on the melioration of their condition.\n\nLanguage, on the moral effects of.\n\nLaws, when bad, are productive of base subserviency.\n\nLegislation, on the due balance of, with the administration.--on the\nproblem of.\n\nLegislation and government, matters of reason and judgment.\n\nLegislative capacity, on the limits of.\n\nLegislators of the ancient republics.\n\nLegislature of France, regicidal character of the.\n\nLevellers, moral, the representatives of a servile principle.\n\nLibellers of human nature, falsity of the term.\n\nLiberty, its preservation the duty of a member of the House of\nCommons.--in what it consists;--character of just liberty.--on the\nabstract theory of.--on fictitious liberty.\n\n\"Lights,\" modern, on the petulance and ignorance of.\n\nLoans, public, on the policy of.\n\nLouis XVI., on his cruel treatment.--historical estimate of.--his\nmistaken views of society.--on the fate of.\n\nLove, a mixed passion.\n\nLove and dread, their union in religion.\n\nLow aims and low instruments, the baseness of.\n\nMagistracy, religious duties of the.\n\nMagna Charta, Ireland a partaker of.--the oldest reformation of\nEngland.--on the early constitutions of.\n\nMagnanimity, on its superiority.\n\nMalesherbes, atrocious treatment of.\n\nMan, Nature anticipates the desires of.\n\nMankind, ancient state of.\n\nManners and morals, correspondent systems of.--more important than laws.\n\nMaria Antoinette, her beauty and misfortunes.--sanguinary treatment of.\n\nMaria Theresa, her high-minded principles.\n\nMarriage, feudal restraints on.\n\nMaxims, false, evils of, when assumed as first principles.\n\nMeasures of government, on judging of the.\n\nMember of Parliament, difficulties of becoming a good one.\n\nMetaphysical depravity, on the dangers of.\n\nMigrations of ancient history.\n\nMinister of state, what he ought to attempt.\n\nMinisters, on the responsibility of.\n\nMissionaries, their early zeal in propagating Christianity.\n\nMonarch of England, on the sovereign power of the.\n\nMonastic institutions, on the results of.\n\nMoney and science.\n\nMonks, their early zeal in the cause of Christianity.\n\nMontesquieu, on the genius of.\n\nMoral debasement, a progressive principle.\n\nMoral diet, on the use of.\n\nMoral distinctions defined.\n\nMoral effects resulting from language.\n\nMoral essence constitutes a nation.\n\nMoral heroism, on the virtues of.\n\nMoral instincts, on the sacredness of.\n\nMoral levelling, a servile principle.\n\nNation, moral essence constitutes a.\n\nNational Assembly of France, the House of Commons contrasted with.\n\nNational Assembly, on its philosophic vanity.\n\nNational dignity, importance of, in all treaties.\n\nNature, Sir I. Newton's discoveries of the phenomena of.--anticipates\nthe desires of man.\n\nNecessity, a relative term.\n\nNeighbourhood, on the law of.\n\nNeutrality, on the uncertainty and contemptibility of.\n\nNew England, fisheries of, on the hardy spirit of the.\n\nNewton, Sir Isaac, his discoveries of the phenomena of nature.\n\nNobility a graceful ornament to the civil order.\n\nNorman invasion, state of Europe and of England at the time of the.\n\n\"Not so bad as we seem,\" justificatory remarks on.\n\nNovelty, its effects on the mind.\n\nObscure, powerful influence of the.\n\nObscurity, courted by despotism and all false religions.\n\nOffice, on the emoluments of.\n\nOfficers, English, on the admirable qualifications of.\n\nOpinion, on acting from, against the government.\n\nOpinions, power survives the shock of.\n\nOppression, on the voice of.\n\nOrder, the foundation of all things.\n\nOutcasts, political, on the usual treatment of.\n\nPainting, influence of.\n\nPaper currency, confiscation arising from.\n\nParental experience, reflections on.\n\nParis, on the boasted superiority of.\n\nParliament, difficulties of becoming a good member of.--Mr. Burke's\npreparation for.--a deliberative assembly.--on its identity with the\npeople.--on the privilege of.--property more than ability represented\nin. --on the \"omnipotence\" of.\n\nParliamentary prerogative, on the principles of.\n\nParliamentary retrospect.\n\nParliaments, on the proper period of their duration.--on the abolition\nand use of.\n\nParsimony is not economy.\n\nParty, on decorum in.--character and objects of.--political connections\nof.\n\nParty divisions, inseparable from a free government.\n\nParty man, character of a, vindicated.\n\nPatriotic distinction.\n\nPatriotic services, on the justice of public salary for.\n\nPatriotism, the true source of public income.--on the true\ncharacteristics of.--local, on the extinction of.\n\nPeace, political, on the difficulties of.\n\nPeers, privileges of the.\n\nPensions from the crown the obligations of gratitude, and not the\nfetters of servility.\n\nPeople, on their disputes with their rulers.--voice of the, to be\nconsulted.--necessity of securing their confidence.--on their identity\nwith parliament.--kingly power not based on their choice.--on the true\nmeaning of the term.--war, and will of the.--the constitution not the\nslave of the.\n\nPerplexity, on the political state of.\n\nPersecution, theory of, its falsity.\n\nPetty interests, against being influenced by.\n\nPhilosophic vanity of the French National Assembly.\n\nPhysiognomy, on the influence of.\n\nPictures represented by words.\n\nPilgrimages advantageous to the cause of literature.\n\nPius VII., territories of, assailed by France.\n\nPlace the object of party.--on the influence of, in government.\n\nPoetry, its dominion over the passions.\n\nPolicy, genuine sentiment not discordant with.--national.\n\nPolish revolution, reflections on the.\n\nPolitical axioms.\n\nPolitical charity, characteristics of.\n\nPolitical connections, on the nature of.\n\nPolitical empiricism, its character.\n\nPolitical outcasts, on the usual treatment of.\n\nPoliticians, theorizing, on the follies of.\n\nPolitics, without principle.--remarks on.--on the state of feeling with\nregard to.--in connection with the pulpit.\n\nPoor, on the folly of their overthrowing the rich.\n\nPope, his exactions from King John.\n\nPopular discontent, on the general prevalence of, in all times.\n\nPopular opinion, on the fallacy of, as a standard.\n\nPower, on the tendencies of.--survives the shock of opinions.\n\nPractice more certain than theory.\n\nPrerogative of the crown.--parliamentary and regal.\n\nPrescriptive rights, on the justice and necessity of.\n\nPrevention, principle of, necessary for every political institution.\n\nPrice, Dr., on his preaching the democracy of Dissent.\n\n\"Priests of the Rights of Man.\"\n\nPrinciple, on the absence of, in politics.\n\nPrivilege of Parliament.\n\nProscription, the miserable invention of ungenerous ambition.\n\nProsecutions, public, little better than schools of treason.\n\nProtestantism of America.--English, on the distinctive character of.\n\nProvisions, danger of tampering with the trade of.--rate of wages no\ndirect relation to.\n\nPrudence of timely reform.--rules and definitions of.\n\nPublic benefit, as compared with individual good.\n\nPublic corruption, evil consequences of.\n\nPublic income, patriotism the true source of.\n\nPublic men, on the libellers of.\n\nPublic spirit united with economy, advantages of.--a part of our\nnational character.\n\nPulpit, politics in the.\n\nReal and ideal, definition of the.\n\nReason and taste, on the standard of.\n\nReform, timely, on the prudence of.--false, on the prudery of.\n\nReformation, English, a time of trouble and confusion.--contrasted and\ncompared with anarchy.\n\nReformations in England, principles of the.\n\nReformers, on the difficulties of.\n\nRefusal, productive of a revenue.\n\nRegal prerogative, on the principles of.\n\nRegicidal legislature of France.\n\nRegicide, atrocious principles of.--the sanguinary ante-chamber of.\n\nReliefs, on the ancient customs of.\n\nReligion, on the union of love and dread in.--our civilization\ndependent on the spirit of.--within the province of a Christian\nmagistrate.--false, courts obscurity.--negative, a nullity.\n\nRemedy, on the distemper of.\n\nRepresentatives, on the conduct and duty of.\n\nRepublicanism, on the jargon of.\n\nRepublicans, on the legislation of.\n\nRepublics, on the character of, in the abstract.\n\nResignation of the mind.\n\nRestrictive virtues too high for humanity.\n\nRetrospect of the memory.--parliamentary.\n\nRevenue, refusal productive of a.--the state its own.--necessity of its\npayment.--on the best mode of raising the.\n\nRevolution of France, horrors of the.--Burke's idea of.--its frightful\nscenes.--founded on regicide, Jacobinism, and atheism.--reflections\non.--causes of the.--evils of.--on the politics of the.--specious\njustification of.\n\nRevolution, the Glorious, of England in 1688.--its objects.--principles\nof the.\n\nRevolution Society, dangerous objects of the.\n\nRevolutions of France and England compared.\n\n\"Right, Declaration of,\" its objects.\n\n\"Right, Petition of,\" on the famous law of.\n\nRights, natural and civil.--prescriptive, on the justice and necessity\nof.\n\nRobespierre, on the instruments of his tyranny.\n\nRockingham, Lord, vindication of his measures.\n\nRome, the great centre of early Christianity in the western\nworld.--assailed by France.\n\nRousseau, philosophic vanity of.--paradoxical writings of.\n\nRulers, on the disputes of the people with.\n\nSalaries, public, on the justice of, for particular service.\n\nSanterre, the regicide atrocity of.\n\nSaracens, irruptions of the.\n\nSaville, Sir George, his intellectual and moral character.\n\nSaxon conquests, state of Britain at the time of.--religious conversion\nof the Saxons.\n\nSelf-inspection tends to concentrate the forces of the soul.\n\nSentiment, genuine, not discordant with sound policy.\n\nSilence, prudential advantages of.\n\nSimon, the son of Onias, scriptural panegyric on.\n\nSmith, Sir Sidney, on his treatment as a French prisoner.\n\nSocial contract, definition of the.\n\nSociety and solitude, on the balance between.\n\nSolitude a positive pain.\n\nSound of words, its effect.\n\nSovereign jurisdictions, on the advantage of.\n\nSpeciousness, ideas of.\n\nSpeculation and history, general disquisition on.\n\nState, the, on the union of the Church with.--consecrated by the\nChurch.--the revenue of, its own.\n\nState-consecration, on the principles of.\n\nStyle, on clearness and strength in.\n\nSublime, sources of, and what constitutes the.\n\nSubserviency, base, bad laws productive of.\n\nSubsistence, means of, should be certain.\n\nSuperstition, monastic and philosophic.\n\nSympathy, on the bond of.--extensions of.--its influences.\n\nTallien, the regicide atrocity of.\n\nTaste, philosophy of.--principles of.--standard of.\n\nTaxation, on the principle involved in.--on the right of.\n\nTest Acts, Burke's proposed oath on the.\n\nTheodorus, archbishop of Canterbury, the great promoter of English\nliterature.\n\nTheory, liability to error in. --on the proper use of.\n\nToleration, on the intolerancy of.\n\nTownshend, Right Hon. Charles, his character and great acquirements.\n\nTruth, on the security of.\n\nUgliness, on the nature of.\n\nVanity, philosophic, ethics of.\n\nVenality, dangers of.\n\nVirtues, the restrictive, almost too high for humanity.\n\nVisionary, character of the.\n\nVoice of the people to be consulted.\n\nVulgar, conceptions of the.\n\nWages, on their connection with labour.\n\nWalpole, Sir Robert, on the policy of.\n\nWar, on the tremendous consequences of.\n\nWar and will of the people.\n\nWarning for a nation, founded on the state of public affairs.\n\nWeakness in government, on the evils of.\n\nWealth, on the relation of, to national dignity.\n\nWilkes, John, on his right of election to Parliament.\n\nWilliam the Conqueror, on the sovereign qualities of;--his policy.\n\nWilliam III., on his succession to the English crown.--his vigorous\npolicy against France.\n\nWords, their power and influence.--effect of.--various qualities of.","title":"Selections from the Speeches and Writings of Edmund Burke","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":161637}