{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_36120/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_36120","id":"gutenberg_36120","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36120","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Philosophy","Political science"],"text":"</pre>\nESSAYS\n\nBy\n\nDAVID HUME\n\n\n\n_With Biographical Introduction_\n\nby\n\nHannaford Bennett\n\nLONDON\n\nJOHN LONG LTD\n\n\n\n\nContents\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION\n\nOF THE DELICACY OF TASTE AND PASSION\n\nOF THE LIBERTY OF THE PRESS\n\nTHAT POLITICS MAY BE REDUCED TO A SCIENCE\n\nOF THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT\n\nOF THE ORIGIN OF GOVERNMENT\n\nOF THE INDEPENDENCY OF PARLIAMENT\n\nWHETHER THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT INCLINES MORETO ABSOLUTE MONARCHY OR\nTO A REPUBLIC\n\nOF PARTIES IN GENERAL\n\nOF THE PARTIES OF GREAT BRITAIN\n\nOF SUPERSTITION AND ENTHUSIASM\n\nOF THE DIGNITY OR MEANNESS OF HUMAN NATURE\n\nOF CIVIL LIBERTY\n\nOF ELOQUENCE\n\n\n\n\nBiographical Introduction\n\n\nThe material facts in Hume's life are to be found in the autobiography\nwhich he prefixed to his _History of England_. _My Own Life_, as he\ncalls it, is but a brief exposition, but it is sufficient for its\npurpose, and the longer biographies of him do little more than amplify\nthe information which he gives us himself. The Humes, it appears, were a\nremote branch of the family of Lord Hume of Douglas. Hume's father was\nJoseph Hume, of Ninewells, a minor Scotch laird, who died when his son\nwas an infant. David Hume was born at Edinburgh on April 26th, 1711,\nduring a visit of his parents to the Scotch capital. Hume tells us that\nhis father passed for a man of parts, and that his mother, who herself\ncame of good Scottish family, \"was a woman of singular merit; though\nyoung and handsome, she devoted herself entirely to the rearing and\neducating of her children.\" At school Hume won no special distinction.\nHe matriculated in the class of Greek at the Edinburgh University when\nhe was twelve years old, and, he says \"passed through the ordinary\ncourse of education with success\"; but \"our college education in\nScotland,\" he remarks in one of his works, \"extending little further\nthan the languages, ends commonly when we are about fourteen or fifteen\nyears of age.\" During his youth, Mrs. Hume does not appear to have\nmaintained any too flattering opinion of her son's abilities; she\nconsidered him a good-natured but \"uncommon weak-minded\" creature.\nPossibly her judgment underwent a change in course of time, since she\nlived to see the beginnings of his literary fame; but his worldly\nsuccess was long in the making, and he was a middle-aged man before his\nmeagre fortune was converted into anything like a decent maintenance.\n\nIt may have been Hume's apparent vacillation in choosing a career that\nmade this \"shrewd Scots wife\" hold her son in such small esteem. At\nfirst the family tried to launch him into the profession of the law, but\n\"while they fancied I was poring over Voet and Vinnius, Cicero and\nVirgil were the authors I was secretly devouring.\" For six years Hume\nremained at Ninewells and then made \"a feeble trial for entering on a\nmore active scene of life.\" Commerce, this time, was the chosen\ninstrument, but the result was not more successful. \"In 1734 I went to\nBristol with some recommendations to eminent merchants, but in a few\nmonths found that scene totally unsuitable for me.\" At length--in the\nmiddle of 1736 when Hume was twenty-three years of age and without any\nprofession or means of earning a livelihood--he went over to France. He\nsettled first at Rheims, and afterwards at La Fl\u00eache in Anjou, and\n\"there I laid that plan of life which I have steadily and successfully\npursued. I resolved to make a very rigid frugality supply my deficiency\nof fortune, to maintain unimpaired my independency, and to regard every\nobject as contemptible except the improvement of my talents in\nliterature.\" At La Fl\u00eache Hume lived in frequent intercourse with the\nJesuits at the famous college in which Descartes was educated, and he\ncomposed his first book, the _Treatise of Human Nature_. According to\nhimself \"it fell dead-born from the press, without reaching such\ndistinction as even to excite a murmur among the zealots.\" But this work\nwhich was planned before the author was twenty-one and written before he\nwas twenty-five, in the opinion of Professor Huxley, is probably the\nmost remarkable philosophical work, both intrinsically and in its\neffects upon the course of thought, that has ever been written. Three\nyears later Hume published anonymously, at Edinburgh, the first volume\nof _Essays, Moral and Political_, which was followed in 1742 by the\nsecond volume. The _Essays_, he says, were favourably received and soon\nmade me entirely forget my former disappointments.\n\nIn 1745 Hume became tutor to a young nobleman, the Marquis of Annandale,\nwho was mentally affected, but he did not endure the engagement for\nlong. Next year General St. Clair, who had been appointed to command an\nexpedition in the War of the Pragmatic Sanction, invited him to be his\nsecretary, an office to which that of judge-advocate was afterwards\nadded. The expedition was a failure, but General St. Clair, who was\nafterwards entrusted with embassies to Turin and Vienna, and upon whom\nHume seems to have created a favourable impression, insisted that he\nshould accompany him in the same capacity as secretary; he further made\nhim one of his _aides-de-camp_. Thus Hume had to attire his portly\nfigure in a \"scarlet military uniform,\" and Lord Charlemont who met him\nin Turin says that he wore his uniform \"like a grocer of the\ntrain-bands.\" At Vienna the Empress-Dowager excused him on ceremonial\noccasions from walking backwards, a concession which was much\nappreciated by \"my companions who were desperately afraid of my falling\non them and crushing them.\" Hume returned to London in 1749. \"These\nyears,\" he says, \"were almost the only interruptions my studies have\nreceived during the course of my life. I passed them agreeably and in\ngood company, and my appointments, with my frugality, had made me reach\na fortune which I called independent, though most of my friends were\ninclined to smile when I said so; in short, I was now master of near a\nthousand pounds.\"\n\nWhile Hume was away with General St. Clair his _Inquiry Concerning Human\nUnderstanding_ was published, but it was not more successful than the\noriginal _Treatise_ of a portion of which it was a recasting. A new\nedition of _Moral and Political Essays_ met with no better fate, but\nthese disappointments, he says, \"made little or no impression\" on him.\nIn 1749 Hume returned to Ninewells, and lived for a while with his\nbrothers. Afterwards he took a flat of his own at Edinburgh, with his\nsister to keep house for him. At this period the _Political Discourses_\nand the _Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals_ were published. Of\nthe _Inquiry_ Hume held the opinion, an opinion, however, which was not\nshared by the critics, that \"it is of all my writings--historical,\nphilosophical, or literary incomparably the best.\" Slowly and surely his\npublications were growing in reputation. In 1752 the Faculty of\nAdvocates elected Hume their librarian, an office which was valuable to\nhim, not so much for the emolument as for the extensive library which\nenabled him to pursue the historical studies upon which he had for some\ntime been engaged. For the next nine years he was occupied with his\n_History of England_. The first volume was published in 1754, and the\nsecond volume, which met with a better reception than the first, in\n1756. Only forty-five copies of the first volume were sold in a\ntwelvemonth; but the subsequent volumes made rapid headway, and raised a\ngreat clamour, for in the words of Macaulay, Hume's historical picture,\nthough drawn by a master hand, has all the lights Tory and all the\nshades Whig. In 1757 one of his most remarkable works, the _Natural\nHistory of Religion_, appeared. The book was attacked--not wholly to\nHume's dissatisfaction, for he appreciated fame as well as\nsuccess--\"with all the illiberal petulance, arrogance, and scurrility\nwhich distinguish the Warburtonian school.\"\n\nHume remained in Edinburgh superintending the publication of the\n_History_ until 1763 when Lord Hertford, who had been appointed\nambassador to France, offered him office in the embassy, with the\npromise of the secretaryship later on. The appointment was the more\nhonourable, inasmuch as Hume was not personally acquainted with Lord\nHertford, who had a reputation for virtue and piety, whilst Hume's views\nabout religion had rendered him one of the best abused men of his time.\nIn France Hume's reputation stood higher than it was in England; several\nof his works had been translated into French; and he had corresponded\nwith Montesquieu, Helvetius and Rousseau. Thus he was received in French\nsociety with every mark of distinction. In a letter to Adam Smith in\nOctober 1763, he wrote: \"I have been three days at Paris and two at\nFontainebleau, and have everywhere met with the most extraordinary\nhonours, which the most exorbitant vanity could wish or desire.\" Great\nnobles f\u00eated him, and great ladies struggled for the presence of the\n\"_gros_ David\" at their receptions or in their boxes at the theatre. \"At\nthe opera his broad unmeaning face was usually to be seen _entre deux\njoli minois_,\" says Lord Charlemont. Hume took his honours with\nsatisfaction, but with becoming good sense, and he did not allow these\nflatteries to turn his head.\n\nIn 1767 Hume was back in London, and for the next two years held office\nas Under-Secretary of State. It is not necessary to dwell upon this\nperiod of his life, or to go into the details of his quarrel with\nRousseau. In 1769 he returned to Edinburgh \"very opulent\" in the\npossession of \u00a31,000 a year, and determined to take the rest of his life\neasily and pleasantly. He built himself a house in Edinburgh, and for\nthe next six years it was the centre of the most accomplished society in\nthe city. In 1755 Hume's health began to fail, and he knew that his\nillness must be fatal. Thus he made his will and wrote _My Own Life_,\nwhich ends simply in these words:\n\n     \"I now reckon upon a speedy dissolution. I have suffered very\n     little pain from my disorder; and what is more strange have,\n     notwithstanding the great decline of my person, never suffered a\n     moment's abatement of spirits; insomuch that were I to name the\n     period of my life which I should most choose to pass over again, I\n     might be tempted to point to this later period. I possess the same\n     ardour as ever in study, and the same gaiety in company; I\n     consider, besides, that a man of sixty-five, by dying, cuts off\n     only a few years of infirmities; and though I see many symptoms of\n     my literary reputation's breaking out at last with additional\n     lustre, I know that I could have but few years to enjoy it. It is\n     difficult to be more detached from life than I am at present.\n\n     \"To conclude historically with my own character, I am, or rather\n     was (for that is the style I must now use in speaking of myself); I\n     was, I say, a man of mild dispositions, of command of temper, of\n     an open, social, and cheerful humour, capable of attachment, but\n     little susceptible of enmity, and of great moderation in all my\n     passions. Even my love of literary fame, my ruling passion, never\n     soured my temper, notwithstanding my frequent disappointments. My\n     company was not unacceptable to the young and careless, as well as\n     to the studious and literary; and as I took a particular pleasure\n     in the company of modest women, I had no reason to be displeased\n     with the reception I met with from them. In a word, though most men\n     any wise eminent, have found reason to complain of calumny, I never\n     was touched or even attacked by her baleful tooth; and though I\n     wantonly exposed myself to the rage of both civil and religious\n     factions, they seemed to be disarmed in my behalf of their wonted\n     fury. My friends never had occasion to vindicate any one\n     circumstance of my character and conduct; not but that the zealots,\n     we may well suppose, would have been glad to invent and propagate\n     any story to my disadvantage, but they could never find any which\n     they thought would wear the face of probability. I cannot say there\n     is no vanity in making this funeral oration of myself, but I hope\n     it is not a misplaced one; and this is a matter of fact which is\n     easily cleared and ascertained.\"\n\nHume died in Edinburgh on August 25th, 1776, and a few days later was\nburied in a spot selected by himself on the Carlton Hill.\n\n                                                HANNAFORD BENNETT\n\n\n\n\nEssays\n\n\n\n\nOF THE DELICACY OF TASTE AND PASSION\n\n\nSome people are subject to a certain _delicacy_ of _passion_, which\nmakes them extremely sensible to all the accidents of life, and gives\nthem a lively joy upon every prosperous event, as well as a piercing\ngrief when they meet with misfortune and adversity. Favours and good\noffices easily engage their friendship, while the smallest injury\nprovokes their resentment. Any honour or mark of distinction elevates\nthem above measure, but they are sensibly touched with contempt. People\nof this character have, no doubt, more lively enjoyments, as well as\nmore pungent sorrows, than men of cool and sedate tempers. But, I\nbelieve, when every thing is balanced, there is no one who would not\nrather be of the latter character, were he entirely master of his own\ndisposition. Good or ill fortune is very little at our disposal; and\nwhen a person that has this sensibility of temper meets with any\nmisfortune, his sorrow or resentment takes entire possession of him, and\ndeprives him of all relish in the common occurrences of life, the right\nenjoyment of which forms the chief part of our happiness. Great\npleasures are much less frequent than great pains, so that a sensible\ntemper must meet with, fewer trials in the former way than in the\nlatter. Not to mention, that men of such lively passions are apt to be\ntransported beyond all bounds of prudence and discretion, and to take\nfalse steps in the conduct of life, which are often irretrievable.\n\nThere is a _delicacy_ of _taste_ observable in some men, which very much\nresembles this _delicacy_ of _passion_, and produces the same\nsensibility to beauty and deformity of every kind, as that does to\nprosperity and adversity, obligations and injuries. When you present a\npoem or a picture to a man possessed of this talent, the delicacy of his\nfeeling makes him be sensibly touched with every part of it; nor are the\nmasterly strokes perceived with more exquisite relish and satisfaction,\nthan the negligences or absurdities with disgust and uneasiness. A\npolite and judicious conversation affords him the highest entertainment;\nrudeness or impertinence is as great punishment to him. In short,\ndelicacy of taste has the same effect as delicacy of passion. It\nenlarges the sphere both of our happiness and misery, and makes us\nsensible to pains as well as pleasures which escape the rest of mankind.\n\nI believe, however, every one will agree with me, that notwithstanding\nthis resemblance, delicacy of taste is as much to be desired and\ncultivated, as delicacy of passion is to be lamented, and to be\nremedied, if possible. The good or ill accidents of life are very little\nat our disposal; but we are pretty much masters what books we shall\nread, what diversions we shall partake of, and what company we shall\nkeep. Philosophers have endeavoured to render happiness entirely\nindependent of every thing external. The degree of perfection is\nimpossible to be _attained_; but every wise man will endeavour to place\nhis happiness on such objects chiefly as depend upon himself; and _that_\nis not to be _attained_ so much by any other means as by this delicacy\nof sentiment. When a man is possessed of that talent, he is more happy\nby what pleases his taste, than by what gratifies his appetites, and\nreceives more enjoyment from a poem, or a piece of reasoning, than the\nmost expensive luxury can afford.\n\nWhatever connection there may be originally between these two species of\ndelicacy, I am persuaded that nothing is so proper to cure us of this\ndelicacy of passion, as the cultivating of that higher and more refined\ntaste, which enables us to judge of the characters of men, of the\ncompositions of genius, and of the productions of the nobler arts. A\ngreater or less relish for those obvious beauties which strike the\nsenses, depends entirely upon the greater or less sensibility of the\ntemper; but with regard to the sciences and liberal arts, a fine taste\nis, in some measure, the same with strong sense, or at least depends so\nmuch upon it that they are inseparable. In order to judge aright of a\ncomposition of genius, there are so many views to be taken in, so many\ncircumstances to be compared, and such a knowledge of human nature\nrequisite, that no man, who is not possessed of the soundest judgment,\nwill ever make a tolerable critic in such performances. And this is a\nnew reason for cultivating a relish in the liberal arts. Our judgment\nwill strengthen by this exercise. We shall form juster notions of life.\nMany things which please or afflict others, will appear to us too\nfrivolous to engage our attention; and we shall lose by degrees that\nsensibility and delicacy of passion which is so incommodious.\n\nBut perhaps I have gone too far, in saying that a cultivated taste for\nthe polite arts extinguishes the passions, and renders us indifferent to\nthose objects which are so fondly pursued by the rest of mankind. On\nfurther reflection, I find, that it rather improves our sensibility for\nall the tender and agreeable passions; at the same time that it renders\nthe mind incapable of the rougher and more boisterous emotions.\n\n     Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes,\n     Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros.\n\nFor this, I think, there may be assigned two very natural reasons. In\nthe _first_ place, nothing is so improving to the temper as the study of\nthe beauties either of poetry, eloquence, music, or painting. They give\na certain elegance of sentiment to which the rest of mankind are\nstrangers. The emotions which they excite are soft and tender. They draw\noff the mind from the hurry of business and interest; cherish\nreflection; dispose to tranquillity; and produce an agreeable\nmelancholy, which, of all dispositions of the mind, is the best suited\nto love and friendship.\n\nIn the _second_ place, a delicacy of taste is favourable to love and\nfriendship, by confining our choice to few people, and making us\nindifferent to the company and conversation of the greater part of men.\nYou will seldom find that mere men of the world, whatever strong sense\nthey may be endowed with, are very nice in distinguishing characters, or\nin marking those insensible differences and gradations, which make one\nman preferable to another. Any one that has competent sense is\nsufficient for their entertainment. They talk to him of their pleasures\nand affairs, with the same frankness that they would to another; and\nfinding many who are fit to supply his place, they never feel any\nvacancy or want in his absence. But to make use of the allusion of a\ncelebrated French[1] author, the judgment may be compared to a clock or\nwatch, where the most ordinary machine is sufficient to tell the hours;\nbut the most elaborate alone can point out the minutes and seconds, and\ndistinguish the smallest differences of time. One that has well digested\nhis knowledge both of books and men, has little enjoyment but in the\ncompany of a few select companions. He feels too sensibly, how much all\nthe rest of mankind fall short of the notions which he has entertained.\nAnd, his affections being thus confined within a narrow circle, no\nwonder he carries them further than if they were more general and\nundistinguished. The gaiety and frolic of a bottle companion improves\nwith him into a solid friendship; and the ardours of a youthful appetite\nbecome an elegant passion.\n\n\n[1] Mons. Fontenelle, Pluralit\u00e9 des Mondes, Soir 6.\n\n\n\n\nOF THE LIBERTY OF THE PRESS\n\n\nNothing is more apt to surprise a foreigner, than the extreme liberty\nwhich we enjoy in this country of communicating whatever we please to\nthe public and of openly censuring every measure entered into by the\nking or his ministers. If the administration resolve upon war, it is\naffirmed, that, either wilfully or ignorantly, they mistake the\ninterests of the nation; and that peace, in the present situation of\naffairs, is infinitely preferable. If the passion of the ministers lie\ntowards peace, our political writers breathe nothing but war and\ndevastation, and represent the specific conduct of the government as\nmean and pusillanimous. As this liberty is not indulged in any other\ngovernment, either republican or monarchical; in Holland and Venice,\nmore than in France or Spain; it may very naturally give occasion to the\nquestion, _How it happens that Great Britain alone enjoys this peculiar\nprivilege?_\n\nThe reason why the laws indulge us in such a liberty, seems to be\nderived from our mixed form of government, which is neither wholly\nmonarchical, nor wholly republican. It will be found, if I mistake not,\na true observation in politics, that the two extremes in government,\nliberty and slavery, commonly approach nearest to each other; and that,\nas you depart from the extremes, and mix a little of monarchy with\nliberty, the government becomes always the more free; and, on the other\nhand, when you mix a little of liberty with monarchy, the yoke becomes\nalways the more grievous and intolerable. In a government, such as that\nof France, which is absolute, and where law, custom, and religion\nconcur, all of them, to make the people fully satisfied with their\ncondition, the monarch cannot entertain any _jealousy_ against his\nsubjects, and therefore is apt to indulge them in great _liberties_,\nboth of speech and action. In a government altogether republican, such\nas that of Holland, where there is no magistrate so eminent as to give\n_jealousy_ to the state, there is no danger in intrusting the\nmagistrates with large discretionary powers; and though many advantages\nresult from such powers, in preserving peace and order, yet they lay a\nconsiderable restraint on men's actions, and make every private citizen\npay a great respect to the government. Thus it seems evident, that the\ntwo extremes of absolute monarchy and of a republic, approach near to\neach other in some material circumstances. In the _first_, the\nmagistrate has no jealousy of the people; in the _second_, the people\nhave none of the magistrate: which want of jealousy begets a mutual\nconfidence and trust in both cases, and produces a species of liberty in\nmonarchies, and of arbitrary power in republics.\n\nTo justify the other part of the foregoing observation, that, in every\ngovernment, the means are most wide of each other, and that the mixtures\nof monarchy and liberty render the yoke either more grievous; I must\ntake notice of a remark in Tacitus with regard to the Romans under the\nEmperors, that they neither could bear total slavery nor total liberty,\n_Nec totam servitutem, nec totam libertatem pati possunt._ This remark a\ncelebrated poet has translated and applied to the English, in his lively\ndescription of Queen Elizabeth's policy and government.\n\n     Et fit aimer son joug \u00e0 l'Anglois indompt\u00e9,\n     Qui ne peut ni servir, ni vivre en libert\u00e9.\n                                        HENRIADE, liv. i.\n\nAccording to these remarks, we are to consider the Roman government\nunder the Emperors as a mixture of despotism and liberty, where the\ndespotism prevailed; and the English government as a mixture of the same\nkind, where the liberty predominates. The consequences are conformable\nto the foregoing observation, and such as may be expected from those\nmixed forms of government, which beget a mutual watchfulness and\njealousy. The Roman emperors were, many of them, the most frightful\ntyrants that ever disgraced human nature; and it is evident, that their\ncruelty was chiefly excited by their _jealousy_, and by their observing\nthat all the great men of Rome bore with impatience the dominion of a\nfamily, which, but a little before, was nowise superior to their own. On\nthe other hand, as the republican part of the government prevails in\nEngland, though with a great mixture of monarchy, it is obliged, for its\nown preservation, to maintain a watchful _jealousy_ over the\nmagistrates, to remove all discretionary powers, and to secure every\none's life and fortune by general and inflexible laws. No action must be\ndeemed a crime but what the law has plainly determined to be such: no\ncrime must be imputed to a man but from a legal proof before his judges;\nand even these judges must be his fellow-subjects, who are obliged, by\ntheir own interest, to have a watchful eye over the encroachments and\nviolence of the ministers. From these causes it proceeds, that there is\nas much liberty, and even perhaps licentiousness, in Great Britain, as\nthere were formerly slavery and tyranny in Rome.\n\nThese principles account for the great liberty of the press in these\nkingdoms, beyond what is indulged in any other government. It is\napprehended that arbitrary power would steal in upon us, were we not\ncareful to prevent its progress, and were there not any easy method of\nconveying the alarm from one end of the kingdom to the other. The spirit\nof the people must frequently be roused, in order to curb the ambition\nof the court; and the dread of rousing this spirit must be employed to\nprevent that ambition. Nothing so effectual to this purpose as the\nliberty of the press; by which all the learning, wit, and genius of the\nnation, may be employed on the side of freedom, and every one be\nanimated to its defence. As long, therefore, as the republican part of\nour government can maintain itself against the monarchical, it will\nnaturally be careful to keep the press open, as of importance to its own\npreservation.[1]\n\nIt must however be allowed, that the unbounded liberty of the press,\nthough it be difficult, perhaps impossible, to propose a suitable remedy\nfor it, is one of the evils attending those mixed forms of government.\n\n\n[1] Since, therefore, the liberty of the press is so essential to the\nsupport of our mixed government, this sufficiently decides the second\nquestion, _Whether this liberty be advantageous or prejudicial,_ there\nbeing nothing of greater importance in every state than the preservation\nof the ancient government, especially if it be a free one. But I would\nfain go a step further, and assert, that such a liberty is attended with\nso few inconveniences, that it may be claimed as the common right of\nmankind, and ought to be indulged them almost in every government except\nthe ecclesiastical, to which, indeed, it would be fatal. We need not\ndread from this liberty any such ill consequences as followed from the\nharangues of the popular demagogues of Athens and Tribunes of Rome. A\nman reads a book or pamphlet alone and coolly. There is none present\nfrom whom he can catch the passion by contagion. He is not hurried away\nby the force and energy of action. And should he be wrought up to never\nso seditious a humour, there is no violent resolution presented to him\nby which he can immediately vent his passion. The liberty of the press,\ntherefore, however abused, can scarce ever excite popular tumults or\nrebellion. And as to those murmurs or secret discontents it may\noccasion, it is better they should get vent in words, that they may come\nto the knowledge of the magistrate before it be too late, in order to\nhis providing a remedy against them. Mankind, it is true, have always a\ngreater propension to believe what is said to the disadvantage of their\ngovernors than the contrary; but this inclination is inseparable from\nthem whether they have liberty or not. A whisper may fly as quick, and\nbe as pernicious as a pamphlet. Nay, it will be more pernicious, where\nmen are not accustomed to think freely, or distinguish betwixt truth and\nfalsehood.\n\nIt has also been found, as the experience of mankind increases, that the\n_people_ are no such dangerous monsters as they have been represented,\nand that it is in every respect better to guide them like rational\ncreatures than to lead or drive them like brute beasts. Before the\nUnited Provinces set the example, toleration was deemed incompatible\nwith good government; and it was thought impossible that a number of\nreligious sects could live together in harmony and peace, and have all\nof them an equal affection to their common country and to each other.\n_England_ has set a like example of civil liberty; and though this\nliberty seems to occasion some small ferment at present, it has not as\nyet produced any pernicious effects; and it is to be hoped that men,\nbeing every day more accustomed to the free discussion of public\naffairs, will improve in their judgment of them, and be with greater\ndifficulty seduced by every idle rumour and popular clamour.\n\nIt is a very comfortable reflection to the lovers of liberty, that this\npeculiar privilege of _Britain_ is of a kind that cannot easily be\nwrested from us, and must last as long as our government remains in any\ndegree free and independent. It is seldom that liberty of any kind is\nlost all at once. Slavery has so frightful an aspect to men accustomed\nto freedom, that it must steal in upon them by degrees, and must\ndisguise itself in a thousand shapes in order to be received. But if the\nliberty of the press ever be lost, it must be lost at once. The general\nlaws against sedition and libelling are at present as strong as they\npossibly can be made. Nothing can impose a further restraint but either\nthe clapping an imprimatur upon the press, or the giving very large\ndiscretionary powers to the court to punish whatever displeases them.\nBut these concessions would be such a barefaced violation of liberty,\nthat they will probably be the last efforts of a despotic government. We\nmay conclude that the liberty of _Britain_ is gone for ever when these\nattempts shall succeed.\n\n\n\n\nTHAT POLITICS MAY BE REDUCED TO A SCIENCE\n\n\nIt is a question with several, whether there be any essential difference\nbetween one form of government and another? and, whether every form may\nnot become good or bad, according as it is well or ill administered?[1]\nWere it once admitted, that all governments are alike, and that the only\ndifference consists in the character and conduct of the governors, most\npolitical disputes would be at an end, and all _Zeal_ for one\nconstitution above another must be esteemed mere bigotry and folly. But,\nthough a friend to moderation, I cannot forbear condemning this\nsentiment, and should be sorry to think, that human affairs admit of no\ngreater stability, than what they receive from the casual humours and\ncharacters of particular men.\n\nIt is true, those who maintain that the goodness of all government\nconsists in the goodness of the administration, may cite many particular\ninstances in history, where the very same government, in different\nhands, has varied suddenly into the two opposite extremes of good and\nbad. Compare the French government under Henry III and under Henry IV.\nOppression, levity, artifice, on the part of the rulers; faction,\nsedition, treachery, rebellion, disloyalty on the part of the subjects:\nthese compose the character of the former miserable era. But when the\npatriot and heroic prince, who succeeded, was once firmly seated on the\nthrone, the government, the people, every thing, seemed to be totally\nchanged; and all from the difference of the temper and conduct of these\ntwo sovereigns.[2] Instances of this kind may be multiplied, almost\nwithout number, from ancient as well as modern history, foreign as well\nas domestic.\n\nBut here it may be proper to make a distinction. All absolute\ngovernments must very much depend on the administration; and this is one\nof the great inconveniences attending that form of government. But a\nrepublican and free government would be an obvious absurdity, if the\nparticular checks and controls, provided by the constitution had really\nno influence, and made it not the interest, even of bad men, to act for\nthe public good. Such is the intention of these forms of government, and\nsuch is their real effect, where they are wisely constituted: as, on the\nother hand, they are the source of all disorder, and of the blackest\ncrimes, where either skill or honesty has been wanting in their original\nframe and institution.\n\nSo great is the force of laws, and of particular forms of government,\nand so little dependence have they on the humours and tempers of men,\nthat consequences almost as general and certain may sometimes be deduced\nfrom them, as any which the mathematical sciences afford us.\n\nThe constitution of the Roman republic gave the whole legislative power\nto the people, without allowing a negative voice either to the nobility\nor consuls. This unbounded power they possessed in a collective, not in\na representative body. The consequences were: when the people, by\nsuccess and conquest, had become very numerous, and had spread\nthemselves to a great distance from the capital, the city tribes, though\nthe most contemptible, carried almost every vote: they were, therefore,\nmost cajoled by every one that affected popularity: they were supported\nin idleness by the general distribution of corn, and by particular\nbribes, which they received from almost every candidate: by this means,\nthey became every day more licentious, and the Campus Martius was a\nperpetual scene of tumult and sedition: armed slaves were introduced\namong these rascally citizens, so that the whole government fell into\nanarchy; and the greatest happiness which the Romans could look for, was\nthe despotic power of the C\u00e6sars. Such are the effects of democracy\nwithout a representative.\n\nA Nobility may possess the whole, or any part of the legislative power\nof a state, in two different ways. Either every nobleman shares the\npower as a part of the whole body, or the whole body enjoys the power as\ncomposed of parts, which have each a distinct power and authority. The\nVenetian aristocracy is an instance of the first kind of government; the\nPolish, of the second. In the Venetian government the whole body of\nnobility possesses the whole power, and no nobleman has any authority\nwhich he receives not from the whole. In the Polish government every\nnobleman, by means of his fiefs, has a distinct hereditary authority\nover his vassals, and the whole body has no authority but what it\nreceives from the concurrence of its parts. The different operations and\ntendencies of these two species of government might be made apparent\neven _a priori_. A Venetian nobility is preferable to a Polish, let the\nhumours and education of men be ever so much varied. A nobility, who\npossess their power in common, will preserve peace and order, both among\nthemselves, and their subjects; and no member can have authority enough\nto control the laws for a moment. The nobles will preserve their\nauthority over the people, but without any grievous tyranny, or any\nbreach of private property; because such a tyrannical government\npromotes not the interests of the whole body, however it may that of\nsome individuals. There will be a distinction of rank between the\nnobility and people, but this will be the only distinction in the state.\nThe whole nobility will form one body, and the whole people another,\nwithout any of those private feuds and animosities, which spread ruin\nand desolation everywhere. It is easy to see the disadvantages of a\nPolish nobility in every one of these particulars.\n\nIt is possible so to constitute a free government, as that a single\nperson, call him a doge, prince, or king, shall possess a large share of\npower, and shall form a proper balance or counterpoise to the other\nparts of the legislature. This chief magistrate may be either _elective_\nor _hereditary_, and though the former institution may, to a superficial\nview, appear the most advantageous; yet a more accurate inspection will\ndiscover in it greater inconveniences than in the latter, and such as\nare founded on causes and principles eternal and immutable. The filling\nof the throne, in such a government, is a point of too great and too\ngeneral interest, not to divide the whole people into factions, whence a\ncivil war, the greatest of ills, may be apprehended, almost with\ncertainty, upon every vacancy. The prince elected must be either a\n_Foreigner_ or a _Native_: the former will be ignorant of the people\nwhom he is to govern; suspicious of his new subjects, and suspected by\nthem; giving his confidence entirely to strangers, who will have no\nother care but of enriching themselves in the quickest manner, while\ntheir master's favour and authority are able to support them. A native\nwill carry into the throne all his private animosities and friendships,\nand will never be viewed in his elevation without exciting the sentiment\nof envy in those who formerly considered him as their equal. Not to\nmention that a crown is too high a reward ever to be given to merit\nalone, and will always induce the candidates to employ force, or money,\nor intrigue, to procure the votes of the electors: so that such an\nelection will give no better chance for superior merit in the prince,\nthan if the state had trusted to birth alone for determining the\nsovereign.\n\nIt may, therefore, be pronounced as an universal axiom in politics,\n_That an hereditary prince, a nobility without vassals, and a people\nvoting by their representatives, form the best_ MONARCHY, ARISTOCRACY,\n_and_ DEMOCRACY. But in order to prove more fully, that politics admit\nof general truths, which are invariable by the humour or education\neither of subject or sovereign, it may not be amiss to observe some\nother principles of this science, which may seem to deserve that\ncharacter.\n\nIt may easily be observed, that though free governments have been\ncommonly the most happy for those who partake of their freedom; yet are\nthey the most ruinous and oppressive to their provinces: and this\nobservation may, I believe, be fixed as a maxim of the kind we are here\nspeaking of. When a monarch extends his dominions by conquest, he soon\nlearns to consider his old and his new subjects as on the same footing;\nbecause, in reality, all his subjects are to him the same, except the\nfew friends and favourites with whom he is personally acquainted. He\ndoes not, therefore, make any distinction between them in his _general_\nlaws; and, at the same time, is careful to prevent all _particular_ acts\nof oppression on the one as well as the other. But a free state\nnecessarily makes a great distinction, and must always do so till men\nlearn to love their neighbours as well as themselves. The conquerors, in\nsuch a government, are all legislators, and will be sure to contrive\nmatters, by restrictions on trade, and by taxes, so as to draw some\nprivate, as well as public advantage from their conquests. Provincial\ngovernors have also a better chance, in a republic, to escape with their\nplunder, by means of bribery or intrigue; and their fellow-citizens, who\nfind their own state to be enriched by the spoils of the subject\nprovinces, will be the more inclined to tolerate such abuses. Not to\nmention, that it is a necessary precaution in a free state to change the\ngovernors frequently, which obliges these temporary tyrants to be more\nexpeditious and rapacious, that they may accumulate sufficient wealth\nbefore they give place to their successors. What cruel tyrants were the\nRomans over the world during the time of their commonwealth! It is true,\nthey had laws to prevent oppression in their provincial magistrates; but\nCicero informs us, that the Romans could not better consult the\ninterests of the provinces than by repealing these very laws. For, in\nthat case, says he, our magistrates, having entire impunity, would\nplunder no more than would satisfy their own rapaciousness; whereas, at\npresent, they must also satisfy that of their judges, and of all the\ngreat men in Rome, of whose protection they stand in need. Who can read\nof the cruelties and oppressions of Verres without horror and\nastonishment? And who is not touched with indignation to hear, that,\nafter Cicero had exhausted on that abandoned criminal all the thunders\nof his eloquence, and had prevailed so far as to get him condemned to\nthe utmost extent of the laws, yet that cruel tyrant lived peaceably to\nold age, in opulence and ease, and, thirty years afterwards, was put\ninto the proscription by Mark Antony, on account of his exorbitant\nwealth, where he fell with Cicero himself, and all the most virtuous men\nof Rome? After the dissolution of the commonwealth, the Roman yoke\nbecame easier upon the provinces, as Tacitus informs us; and it may be\nobserved, that many of the worst emperors, Domitian, for instance, were\ncareful to prevent all oppression on the provinces. In Tiberius's time,\nGaul was esteemed richer than Italy itself: nor do I find, during the\nwhole time of the Roman monarchy, that the empire became less rich or\npopulous in any of its provinces; though indeed its valour and military\ndiscipline were always upon the decline. The oppression and tyranny of\nthe Carthaginians over their subject states in Africa went so far, as we\nlearn from Polybius, that, not content with exacting the half of all the\nproduce of the land, which of itself was a very high rent, they also\nloaded them with many other taxes. If we pass from ancient to modern\ntimes, we shall still find the observation to hold. The provinces of\nabsolute monarchies are always better treated than those of free states.\nCompare the _Pais conquis_ of France with Ireland, and you will be\nconvinced of this truth; though this latter kingdom, being in a good\nmeasure peopled from England, possesses so many rights and privileges as\nshould naturally make it challenge better treatment than that of a\nconquered province. Corsica is also an obvious instance to the same\npurpose.\n\nThere is an observation of Machiavel, with regard to the conquests of\nAlexander the Great, which, I think, may be regarded as one of those\neternal political truths, which no time nor accidents can vary. It may\nseem strange, says that politician, that such sudden conquests, as those\nof Alexander, should be possessed so peaceably by his successors, and\nthat the Persians, during all the confusions and civil wars among the\nGreeks, never made the smallest effort towards the recovery of their\nformer independent government. To satisfy us concerning the cause of\nthis remarkable event, we may consider, that a monarch may govern his\nsubjects in two different ways. He may either follow the maxims of the\nEastern princes, and stretch his authority so far as to leave no\ndistinction of rank among his subjects, but what proceeds immediately\nfrom himself; no advantages of birth; no hereditary honours and\npossessions; and, in a word, no credit among the people, except from his\ncommission alone. Or a monarch may exert his power after a milder\nmanner, like other European princes; and leave other sources of honour,\nbeside his smile and favour; birth, titles, possessions, valour,\nintegrity, knowledge, or great and fortunate achievements. In the former\nspecies of government, after a conquest, it is impossible ever to shake\noff the yoke; since no one possesses, among the people, so much personal\ncredit and authority as to begin such an enterprise: whereas, in the\nlatter, the least misfortune, or discord among the victors, will\nencourage the vanquished to take arms, who have leaders ready to prompt\nand conduct them in every undertaking.[3]\n\nSuch is the reasoning of Machiavel, which seems solid and conclusive;\nthough I wish he had not mixed falsehood with truth, in asserting that\nmonarchies, governed according to Eastern policy, though more easily\nkept when once subdued, yet are the most difficult to subdue; since they\ncannot contain any powerful subject, whose discontent and faction may\nfacilitate the enterprises of an enemy. For, besides, that such a\ntyrannical government enervates the courage of men, and renders them\nindifferent towards the fortunes of their sovereigns; besides this, I\nsay, we find by experience, that even the temporary and delegated\nauthority of the generals and magistrates, being always, in such\ngovernments, as absolute within its sphere as that of the prince\nhimself, is able, with barbarians accustomed to a blind submission, to\nproduce the most dangerous and fatal revolutions. So that in every\nrespect, a gentle government is preferable, and gives the greatest\nsecurity to the sovereign as well as to the subject.\n\nLegislators, therefore, ought not to trust the future government of a\nstate entirely to chance, but ought to provide a system of laws to\nregulate the administration of public affairs to the latest posterity.\nEffects will always correspond to causes; and wise regulations, in any\ncommonwealth, are the most valuable legacy that can be left to future\nages. In the smallest court or office, the stated forms and methods by\nwhich business must be conducted, are found to be a considerable check\non the natural depravity of mankind. Why should not the case be the same\nin public affairs? Can we ascribe the stability and wisdom of the\nVenetian government, through so many ages, to any thing but the form of\ngovernment? And is it not easy to point out those defects in the\noriginal constitution, which produced the tumultuous governments of\nAthens and Rome, and ended at last in the ruin of these two famous\nrepublics? And so little dependence has this affair on the humours and\neducation of particular men, that one part of the same republic may be\nwisely conducted, and another weakly, by the very same men, merely on\naccount of the differences of the forms and institutions by which these\nparts are regulated. Historians inform us that this was actually the\ncase with Genoa. For while the state was always full of sedition, and\ntumult, and disorder, the bank of St. George, which had become a\nconsiderable part of the people, was conducted, for several ages, with\nthe utmost integrity and wisdom.\n\nThe ages of greatest public spirit are not always most eminent for\nprivate virtue. Good laws may beget order and moderation in the\ngovernment, where the manners and customs have instilled little humanity\nor justice into the tempers of men. The most illustrious period of the\nRoman history, considered in a political view, is that between the\nbeginning of the first and end of the last Punic war; the due balance\nbetween the nobility and people being then fixed by the contests of the\ntribunes, and not being yet lost by the extent of conquests. Yet at this\nvery time, the horrid practice of poisoning was so common, that, during\npart of the season, a _Pr\u00e6tor_ punished capitally for this crime above\nthree thousand persons in a part of Italy; and found informations of\nthis nature still multiplying upon him. There is a similar, or rather a\nworse instance, in the more early times of the commonwealth; so depraved\nin private life were that people, whom in their histories we so much\nadmire. I doubt not but they were really more virtuous during the time\nof the two _Triumvirates_, when they were tearing their common country\nto pieces, and spreading slaughter and desolation over the face of the\nearth, merely for the choice of tyrants.\n\nHere, then, is a sufficient inducement to maintain, with the utmost\nzeal, in every free state, those forms and institutions by which liberty\nis secured, the public good consulted, and the avarice or ambition of\nparticular men restrained and punished. Nothing does more honour to\nhuman nature, than to see it susceptible of so noble a passion; as\nnothing can be a greater indication of meanness of heart in any man than\nto see him destitute of it. A man who loves only himself, without regard\nto friendship and desert, merits the severest blame; and a man, who is\nonly susceptible of friendship, without public spirit, or a regard to\nthe community, is deficient in the most material part of virtue.\n\nBut this is a subject which needs not be longer insisted on at present.\nThere are enow of zealots on both sides, who kindle up the passions of\ntheir partisans, and, under pretence of public good, pursue the\ninterests and ends of their particular faction. For my part, I shall\nalways be more fond of promoting moderation than zeal; though perhaps\nthe surest way of producing moderation in every party is to increase our\nzeal for the public. Let us therefore try, if it be possible, from the\nforegoing doctrine, to draw a lesson of moderation with regard to the\nparties into which our country is at present divided; at the same time,\nthat we allow not this moderation to abate the industry and passion,\nwith which every individual is bound to pursue the good of his country.\n\nThose who either attack or defend a minister in such a government as\nours, where the utmost liberty is allowed, always carry matters to an\nextreme, and exaggerate his merit or demerit with regard to the public.\nHis enemies are sure to charge him with the greatest enormities, both in\ndomestic and foreign management; and there is no meanness or crime, of\nwhich, in their account, he is not capable. Unnecessary wars, scandalous\ntreaties, profusion of public treasure, oppressive taxes, every kind of\nmaladministration is ascribed to him. To aggravate the charge, his\npernicious conduct, it is said, will extend its baneful influence even\nto posterity, by undermining the best constitution in the world, and\ndisordering that wise system of laws, institutions, and customs, by\nwhich our ancestors, during so many centuries, have been so happily\ngoverned. He is not only a wicked minister in himself, but has removed\nevery security provided against wicked ministers for the future.\n\nOn the other hand, the partisans of the minister make his panegyric run\nas high as the accusation against him, and celebrate his wise, steady,\nand moderate conduct in every part of his administration. The honour and\ninterest of the nation supported abroad, public credit maintained at\nhome, persecution restrained, faction subdued; the merit of all these\nblessings is ascribed solely to the minister. At the same time, he\ncrowns all his other merits by a religious care of the best constitution\nin the world, which he has preserved in all its parts, and has\ntransmitted entire, to be the happiness and security of the latest\nposterity.\n\nWhen this accusation and panegyric are received by the partisans of each\nparty, no wonder they beget an extraordinary ferment on both sides, and\nfill the nation with violent animosities. But I would fain persuade\nthese party zealots, that there is a flat contradiction both in the\naccusation and panegyric, and that it were impossible for either of them\nto run so high, were it not for this contradiction. If our constitution\nbe really _that noble fabric, the pride of Britain, the envy of our\nneighbours, raised by the labour of so many centuries, repaired at the\nexpense of so many millions, and cemented by such a profusion of\nblood_;[4] I say, if our constitution does in any degree deserve these\neulogies, it would never have suffered a wicked and weak minister to\ngovern triumphantly for a course of twenty years, when opposed by the\ngreatest geniuses in the nation, who exercised the utmost liberty of\ntongue and pen, in parliament, and in their frequent appeals to the\npeople. But, if the minister be wicked and weak, to the degree so\nstrenuously insisted on, the constitution must be faulty in its original\nprinciples, and he cannot consistently be charged with undermining the\nbest form of government in the world. A constitution is only so far\ngood, as it provides a remedy against maladministration; and if the\nBritish, when in its greatest vigour, and repaired by two such\nremarkable events as the _Revolution_ and _Accession_, by which our\nancient royal family was sacrificed to it; if our constitution, I say,\nwith so great advantages, does not, in fact, provide any such remedy, we\nare rather beholden to any minister who undermines it, and affords us an\nopportunity of erecting a better in its place.\n\nI would employ the same topics to moderate the zeal of those who defend\nthe minister. _Is our constitution so excellent?_ Then a change of\nministry can be no such dreadful event; since it is essential to such a\nconstitution, in every ministry, both to preserve itself from violation,\nand to prevent all enormities in the administration. _Is our\nconstitution very bad?_ Then so extraordinary a jealousy and\napprehension, on account of changes, is ill placed; and a man should no\nmore be anxious in this case, than a husband, who had married a woman\nfrom the stews, should be watchful to prevent her infidelity. Public\naffairs, in such a government, must necessarily go to confusion, by\nwhatever hands they are conducted; and the zeal of _patriots_ is in that\ncase much less requisite than the patience and submission of\n_philosophers_. The virtue and good intention of Cato and Brutus are\nhighly laudable; but to what purpose did their zeal serve? Only to\nhasten the fatal period of the Roman government, and render its\nconvulsions and dying agonies more violent and painful.\n\nI would not be understood to mean, that public affairs deserve no care\nand attention at all. Would men be moderate and consistent, their claims\nmight be admitted; at least might be examined. The _country party_ might\nstill assert, that our constitution, though excellent, will admit of\nmaladministration to a certain degree; and therefore, if the minister be\nbad, it is proper to oppose him with a _suitable_ degree of zeal. And,\non the other hand, the _court party_ may be allowed, upon the\nsupposition that the minister were good, to defend, and with some zeal\ntoo, his administration. I would only persuade men not to contend, as if\nthey were fighting _pro aris et focis_, and change a good constitution\ninto a bad one, by the violence of their factions.\n\nI have not here considered any thing that is personal in the present\ncontroversy. In the best civil constitutions, where every man is\nrestrained by the most rigid laws, it is easy to discover either the\ngood or bad intentions of a minister, and to judge whether his personal\ncharacter deserve love or hatred. But such questions are of little\nimportance to the public, and lay those who employ their pens upon\nthem, under a just suspicion either of malevolence or of flattery.[5]\n\n\n[1]\n\n     For forms of government let fools contest,\n     Whate'er is best administered is best.\n                            ESSAY ON MAN, Book 3.\n\n\n\n[2] An equal difference of a contrary kind may be found in comparing the\nreigns of _Elizabeth_ and _James_, at least with regard to foreign\naffairs.\n\n[3] I have taken it for granted, according to the supposition of\nMachiavel, that the ancient Persians had no nobility; though there is\nreason to suspect, that the Florentine secretary, who seems to have been\nbetter acquainted with the Roman than the Greek authors, was mistaken in\nthis particular. The more ancient Persians, whose manners are described\nby Xenophon, were a free people, and had nobility. Their \u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 were\npreserved even after the extending of their conquests and the consequent\nchange of their government. Arrian mentions them in Darius's time, _De\nexped. Alex._ lib. ii. Historians also speak often of the persons in\ncommand as men of family. Tygranes, who was general of the Medes under\nXerxes, was of the race of Achm\u00e6nes, Heriod. lib. vii. cap. 62.\nArtach\u00e6us, who directed the cutting of the canal about Mount Athos, was\nof the same family. Id. cap. 117. Megabyzus was one of the seven eminent\nPersians who conspired against the Magi. His son, Zopyrus, was in the\nhighest command under Darius, and delivered Babylon to him. His\ngrandson, Megabyzus, commanded the army defeated at Marathon. His\ngreat-grandson, Zopyrus, was also eminent, and was banished Persia.\nHeriod. lib. iii. Thuc. lib. i. Rosaces, who commanded an army in Egypt\nunder Artaxerxes, was also descended from one of the seven conspirators,\nDiod. Sic. lib. xvi. Agesilaus, in Xenophon. Hist. Gr\u00e6c. lib. iv. being\ndesirous of making a marriage betwixt king Cotys his ally, and the\ndaughter of Spithridates, a Persian of rank, who had deserted to him,\nfirst asks Cotys what family Spithridates is of. One of the most\nconsiderable in Persia, says Cotys. Ari\u00e6us, when offered the sovereignty\nby Clearchus and the ten thousand Greeks, refused it as of too low a\nrank, and said, that so many eminent Persians would never endure his\nrule. _Id. de exped._ lib. ii. Some of the families descended from the\nseven Persians above mentioned remained during Alexander's successors;\nand Mithridates, in Antiochus's time, is said by Polybius to be\ndescended from one of them, lib. v. cap. 43. Artabazus was esteemed as\nArrian says, \u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd, lib. iii. And when Alexander\nmarried in one day 80 of his captains to Persian women, his intention\nplainly was to ally the Macedonians with the most eminent Persian\nfamilies. Id. lib. vii. Diodorus Siculus says, they were of the most\nnoble birth in Persia, lib. xvii. The government of Persia was despotic,\nand conducted in many respects after the Eastern manner, but was not\ncarried so far as to extirpate all nobility, and confound all ranks and\norders. It left men who were still great, by themselves and their\nfamily, independent of their office and commission. And the reason why\nthe Macedonians kept so easily dominion over them, was owing to other\ncauses easy to be found in the historians, though it must be owned that\nMachiavel's reasoning is, in itself, just, however doubtful its\napplication to the present case.\n\n[4] Dissertation on Parties, Letter X.\n\n[5] _What our author's opinion was of the famous minister here pointed\nat, may be learned from that Essay, printed in the former edition, under\nthe title of_ 'A Character of Sir Robert Walpole.' _It was as\nfollows_:--There never was a man whose actions and character have been\nmore earnestly and openly canvassed than those of the present minister,\nwho, having governed a learned and free nation for so long a time,\namidst such mighty opposition, may make a large library of what has been\nwrote for and against him, and is the subject of above half the paper\nthat has been blotted in the nation within these twenty years. I wish,\nfor the honour of our country, that any one character of him had been\ndrawn with such _judgment_ and _impartiality_ as to have some credit\nwith posterity, and to show that our liberty has, once at least,\nemployed to good purpose. I am only afraid of failing in the former\nquality of judgment; but if it should be so, it is but one page more\nthrown away, after an hundred thousand upon the same subject, that have\nperished and become useless. In the mean time, I shall flatter myself\nwith the pleasing imagination, that the following character will be\nadopted by future historians.\n\nSir Robert Walpole, Prime Minister of _Great Britain_, is a man of\nability, not a genius, good-natured, not virtuous; constant, not\nmagnanimous; moderate, not equitable.[*] His virtues, in some instances,\nare free from the alloy of those vices which usually accompany such\nvirtues; he is a generous friend, without being a bitter enemy. His\nvices, in other instances, are not compensated by those virtues which\nare nearly allied to them: his want of enterprise is not attended with\nfrugality. The private character of the man is better than the public:\nhis virtues more than his vices: his fortune greater than his fame. With\nmany good qualities, he has incurred the public hatred: with good\ncapacity, he has not escaped ridicule. He would have been esteemed more\nworthy of his high station, had he never possessed it; and is better\nqualified for the second than for the first place in any government; his\nministry has been more advantageous to his family than to the public,\nbetter for this age than for posterity; and more pernicious by bad\nprecedents than by real grievances. During his time trade has\nflourished, liberty declined, and learning gone to ruin. As I am a man,\nI love him; as I am a scholar, I hate him; as I am a _Briton_, I calmly\nwish his fall. And were I a member of either House, I would give my vote\nfor removing him from St James's; but should be glad to see him retire\nto _Houghton-Hall_, to pass the remainder of his days in ease and\npleasure.\n\n*Moderate in the exercise of power, not equitable in engrossing it.\n\n_The author is pleased to find, that after animosities are laid, and\ncalumny has ceased, the whole nation almost have returned to the same\nmoderate sentiments with regard to this great man, if they are not\nrather become more favourable to him, by a very natural transition, from\none extreme to another. The author would not oppose these humane\nsentiments towards the dead; though he cannot forbear observing, that\nthe not paying more of our public debts was, as hinted in this\ncharacter, a great, and the only great, error in that long\nadministration._\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOF THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT\n\n\nNothing appears more surprising to those who consider human affairs with\na philosophical eye, than the easiness with which the many are governed\nby the few; and the implicit submission, with which men resign their own\nsentiments and passions to those of their rulers. When we enquire by\nwhat means this wonder is effected, we shall find, that, as Force is\nalways on the side of the governed, the governors have nothing to\nsupport them but opinion. It is, therefore, on opinion only that\ngovernment is founded; and this maxim extends to the most despotic and\nmost military governments, as well as to the most free and most popular.\nThe soldan of Egypt, or the emperor of Rome, might drive his harmless\nsubjects, like brute beasts, against their sentiments and inclination.\nBut he must, at least, have led his _mamalukes_ or _pr\u00e6torian bands_,\nlike men, by their opinion.\n\nOpinion is of two kinds, to wit, opinion of interest, and opinion of\nright. By opinion of INTEREST, I chiefly understand the sense of the\ngeneral advantage which is reaped from government; together with the\npersuasion, that the particular government which is established is\nequally advantageous with any other that could easily be settled. When\nthis opinion prevails among the generality of a state, or among those\nwho have the force in their hands, it gives great security to any\ngovernment.\n\nRight is of two kinds; right to Power, and right to Property. What\nprevalence opinion of the first kind has over mankind, may easily be\nunderstood, by observing the attachment which all nations have to their\nancient government, and even to those names which have had the sanction\nof antiquity. Antiquity always begets the opinion of right; and whatever\ndisadvantageous sentiments we may entertain of mankind, they are always\nfound to be prodigal both of blood and treasure in the maintenance of\npublic justice.[1] There is, indeed, no particular in which, at first\nsight, there may appear a greater contradiction in the frame of the\nhuman mind than the present. When men act in a faction, they are apt,\nwithout shame or remorse, to neglect all the ties of honour and\nmorality, in order to serve their party; and yet, when a faction is\nformed upon a point of right or principle, there is no occasion where\nmen discover a greater obstinacy, and a more determined sense of justice\nand equity. The same social disposition of mankind is the cause of\nthese contradictory appearances.\n\nIt is sufficiently understood, that the opinion of right to property is\nof moment in all matters of government. A noted author has made property\nthe foundation of all government; and most of our political writers seem\ninclined to follow him in that particular. This is carrying the matter\ntoo far; but still it must be owned, that the opinion of right to\nproperty has a great influence in this subject.\n\nUpon these three opinions, therefore, of public _interest_, of _right to\npower_, and of _right to property_, are all governments founded, and all\nauthority of the few over the many. There are indeed other principles\nwhich add force to these, and determine, limit, or alter their\noperation; such as _self-interest_, _fear_, and _affection_. But still\nwe may assert, that these other principles can have no influence alone,\nbut suppose the antecedent influence of those opinions above mentioned.\nThey are, therefore, to be esteemed the secondary, not the original,\nprinciples of government.\n\nFor, _first_, as to _self-interest_, by which I mean the expectation of\nparticular rewards, distinct from the general protection which we\nreceive from government, it is evident that the magistrate's authority\nmust be antecedently established, at least be hoped for, in order to\nproduce this expectation. The prospect of reward may augment his\nauthority with regard to some particular persons, but can never give\nbirth to it, with regard to the public. Men naturally look for the\ngreatest favours from their friends and acquaintance; and therefore, the\nhopes of any considerable number of the state would never centre in any\nparticular set of men, if these men had no other title to magistracy,\nand had no separate influence over the opinions of mankind. The same\nobservation may be extended to the other two principles of _fear_ and\n_affection_. No man would have any reason to _fear_ the fury of a\ntyrant, if he had no authority over any but from fear; since, as a\nsingle man, his bodily force can reach but a small way, and all the\nfurther power he possesses must be founded either on our own opinion, or\non the presumed opinion of others. And though _affection_ to wisdom and\nvirtue in a _sovereign_ extends very far, and has great influence, yet\nhe must antecedently be supposed invested with a public character,\notherwise the public esteem will serve him in no stead, nor will his\nvirtue have any influence beyond a narrow sphere.\n\nA government may endure for several ages, though the balance of power\nand the balance of property do not coincide. This chiefly happens where\nany rank or order of the state has acquired a large share in the\nproperty; but, from the original constitution of the government, has no\nshare in the power. Under what pretence would any individual of that\norder assume authority in public affairs? As men are commonly much\nattached to their ancient government, it is not to be expected, that\nthe public would ever favour such usurpations. But where the original\nconstitution allows any share of power, though small, to an order of men\nwho possess a large share of property, it is easy for them gradually to\nstretch their authority, and bring the balance of power to coincide with\nthat of property. This has been the case with the House of Commons in\nEngland.\n\nMost writers that have treated of the British government, have supposed,\nthat, as the Lower House represents all the Commons of Great Britain,\nits weight in the scale is proportioned to the property and power of all\nwhom it represents. But this principle must not be received as\nabsolutely true. For though the people are apt to attach themselves more\nto the House of Commons than to any other member of the constitution,\nthat House being chosen by them as their representatives, and as the\npublic guardians of their liberty; yet are there instances where the\nHouse, even when in opposition to the crown, has not been followed by\nthe people, as we may particularly observe of the _Tory_ House of\nCommons in the reign of King William. Were the members obliged to\nreceive instructions from their constituents, like the Dutch deputies,\nthis would entirely alter the case; and if such immense power and\nriches, as those of all the Commons of Great Britain, were brought into\nthe scale, it is not easy to conceive, that the crown could either\ninfluence that multitude of people, or withstand the balance of\nproperty. It is true, the crown has great influence over the collective\nbody in the elections of members; but were this influence, which at\npresent is only exerted once in seven years, to be employed in bringing\nover the people to every vote, it would soon be wasted, and no skill,\npopularity, or revenue, could support it. I must, therefore, be of\nopinion, that an alteration in this particular would introduce a total\nalteration in our government, and would soon reduce it to a pure\nrepublic; and, perhaps, to a republic of no inconvenient form. For\nthough the people, collected in a body like the Roman tribes, be quite\nunfit for government, yet, when dispersed in small bodies, they are most\nsusceptible both of reason and order; the force of popular currents and\ntides is in a great measure broken; and the public interests may be\npursued with some method and constancy. But it is needless to reason any\nfurther concerning a form of government, which is never likely to have\nplace in Great Britain, and which seems not to be the aim of any party\namongst us. Let us cherish and improve our ancient government as much as\npossible, without encouraging a passion for such dangerous novelties.[2]\n\n\n[1] This passion we may denominate enthusiasm, or we may give it what\nappellation we please; but a politician who should overlook its\ninfluence on human affairs, would prove himself to have but a very\nlimited understanding.\n\n[2] I shall conclude this subject with observing, that the present\npolitical controversy with regard to _instructions_, is a very frivolous\none, and can never be brought to any decision, as it is managed by both\nparties. The country party do not pretend that a member is absolutely\nbound to follow instructions as an ambassador or general is confined by\nhis orders, and that his vote is not to be received in the House, but so\nfar as it is conformable to them. The court party, again, do not pretend\nthat the sentiments of the people ought to have no weight with every\nmember; much less that he ought to despise the sentiments of those whom\nhe represents, and with whom he is more particularly connected. And if\ntheir sentiments be of weight, why ought they not to express these\nsentiments? The question then is only concerning the degrees of weight\nwhich ought to be placed on instructions. But such is the nature of\nlanguage, that it is impossible for it to express distinctly these\ndifferent degrees; and if men will carry on a controversy on this head,\nit may well happen that they differ in the language, and yet agree in\ntheir sentiments; or differ in their sentiments, and yet agree in their\nlanguage. Besides, how is it possible to fix these degrees, considering\nthe variety of affairs that come before the House, and the variety of\nplaces which members represent? Ought the instructions of _Totness_ to\nhave the same weight as those of London? or instructions with regard to\nthe _Convention_ which respected foreign politics to have the same\nweight as those with regard to the _Excise_, which respected only our\ndomestic affairs?\n\n\n\n\nOF THE ORIGIN OF GOVERNMENT\n\n\nMan, born in a family, is compelled to maintain society from necessity,\nfrom natural inclination, and from habit. The same creature, in his\nfurther progress, is engaged to establish political society, in order to\nadminister justice, without which there can be no peace among them, nor\nsafety, nor mutual intercourse. We are, therefore, to look upon all the\nvast apparatus of our government, as having ultimately no other object\nor purpose but the distribution of justice, or, in other words, the\nsupport of the twelve judges. Kings and parliaments, fleets and armies,\nofficers of the court and revenue, ambassadors, ministers, and privy\ncounsellors, are all subordinate in their end to this part of\nadministration. Even the clergy, as their duty leads them to inculcate\nmorality, may justly be thought, so far as regards this world, to have\nno other useful object of their institution.\n\nAll men are sensible of the necessity of justice to maintain peace and\norder; and all men are sensible of the necessity of peace and order for\nthe maintenance of society. Yet, notwithstanding this strong and obvious\nnecessity, such is the frailty or perverseness of our nature! it is\nimpossible to keep men faithfully and unerringly in the paths of\njustice. Some extraordinary circumstances may happen, in which a man\nfinds his interests to be more promoted by fraud or rapine, than hurt by\nthe breach which his injustice makes in the social union. But much more\nfrequently he is seduced from his great and important, but distant\ninterests, by the allurement of present, though often very frivolous\ntemptations. This great weakness is incurable in human nature.\n\nMen must, therefore, endeavour to palliate what they cannot cure. They\nmust institute some persons under the appellation of magistrates, whose\npeculiar office it is to point out the decrees of equity, to punish\ntransgressors, to correct fraud and violence, and to oblige men, however\nreluctant, to consult their own real and permanent interests. In a word,\nobedience is a new duty which must be invented to support that of\njustice, and the ties of equity must be corroborated by those of\nallegiance.\n\nBut still, viewing matters in an abstract light, it may be thought that\nnothing is gained by this alliance, and that the factitious duty of\nobedience, from its very nature, lays as feeble a hold of the human\nmind, as the primitive and natural duty of justice. Peculiar interests\nand present temptations may overcome the one as well as the other. They\nare equally exposed to the same inconvenience; and the man who is\ninclined to be a bad neighbour, must be led by the same motives, well\nor ill understood, to be a bad citizen or subject. Not to mention, that\nthe magistrate himself may often be negligent, or partial, or unjust in\nhis administration.\n\nExperience, however, proves that there is a great difference between the\ncases. Order in society, we find, is much better maintained by means of\ngovernment; and our duty to the magistrate is more strictly guarded by\nthe principles of human nature, than our duty to our fellow-citizens.\nThe love of dominion, is so strong in the breast of man, that many not\nonly submit to, but court all the dangers, and fatigues, and cares of\ngovernment; and men, once raised to that station, though often led\nastray by private passions, find, in ordinary cases, a visible interest\nin the impartial administration of justice. The persons who first attain\nthis distinction, by the consent, tacit or express, of the people, must\nbe endowed with superior personal qualities of valour, force, integrity,\nor prudence, which command respect and confidence; and, after government\nis established, a regard to birth, rank, and station, has a mighty\ninfluence over men, and enforces the decrees of the magistrate. The\nprince or leader exclaims against every disorder which disturbs his\nsociety. He summons all his partisans and all men of probity to aid him\nin correcting and redressing it, and he is readily followed by all\nindifferent persons in the execution of his office. He soon acquires the\npower of rewarding these services; and in the progress of society, he\nestablishes subordinate ministers, and often a military force, who find\nan immediate and a visible interest in supporting his authority. Habit\nsoon consolidates what other principles of human nature had imperfectly\nfounded; and men, once accustomed to obedience, never think of departing\nfrom that path, in which they and their ancestors have constantly trod,\nand to which they are confined by so many urgent and visible motives.\n\nBut though this progress of human affairs may appear certain and\ninevitable, and though the support which allegiance brings to justice be\nfounded on obvious principles of human nature, it cannot be expected\nthat men should beforehand be able to discover them, or foresee their\noperation. Government commences more casually and more imperfectly. It\nis probable, that the first ascendent of one man over multitudes began\nduring a state of war; where the superiority of courage and of genius\ndiscovers itself most visibly, where unanimity and concert are most\nrequisite, and where the pernicious effects of disorder are most\nsensibly felt. The long continuance of that state, an incident common\namong savage tribes, inured the people to submission; and if the\nchieftain possessed as much equity as prudence and valour, he became,\neven during peace, the arbiter of all differences, and could gradually,\nby a mixture of force and consent, establish his authority. The benefit\nsensibly felt from his influence, made it be cherished by the people, at\nleast by the peaceable and well disposed among them; and if his son\nenjoyed the same good qualities, government advanced the sooner to\nmaturity and perfection; but was still in a feeble state, till the\nfurther progress of improvement procured the magistrate a revenue, and\nenabled him to bestow rewards on the several instruments of his\nadministration, and to inflict punishments on the refractory and\ndisobedient. Before that period, each exertion of his influence must\nhave been particular, and founded on the peculiar circumstances of the\ncase. After it, submission was no longer a matter of choice in the bulk\nof the community, but was rigorously exacted by the authority of the\nsupreme magistrate.\n\nIn all governments, there is a perpetual intestine struggle, open or\nsecret, between Authority and Liberty, and neither of them can ever\nabsolutely prevail in the contest. A great sacrifice of liberty must\nnecessarily be made in every government; yet even the authority, which\nconfines liberty, can never, and perhaps ought never, in any\nconstitution, to become quite entire and uncontrollable. The sultan is\nmaster of the life and fortune of any individual; but will not be\npermitted to impose new taxes on his subjects: a French monarch can\nimpose taxes at pleasure; but would find it dangerous to attempt the\nlives and fortunes of individuals. Religion also, in most countries, is\ncommonly found to be a very intractable principle; and other principles\nor prejudices frequently resist all the authority of the civil\nmagistrate; whose power, being founded on opinion, can never subvert\nother opinions equally rooted with that of his title to dominion. The\ngovernment, which, in common appellation, receives the appellation of\nfree, is that which admits of a partition of power among several\nmembers, whose united authority is no less, or is commonly greater, than\nthat of any monarch; but who, in the usual course of administration,\nmust act by general and equal laws, that are previously known to all the\nmembers, and to all their subjects. In this sense, it must be owned,\nthat liberty is the perfection of civil society; but still authority\nmust be acknowledged essential to its very existence: and in those\ncontests which so often take place between the one and the other, the\nlatter may, on that account, challenge the preference. Unless perhaps\none may say (and it may be said with some reason) that a circumstance,\nwhich is essential to the existence of civil society, must always\nsupport itself, and needs be guarded with less jealousy, than one that\ncontributes only to its perfection, which the indolence of men is so apt\nto neglect, or their ignorance to overlook.\n\n\n\n\nOF THE INDEPENDENCY OF PARLIAMENT[1]\n\n\nPolitical writers have established it as a maxim, that, in contriving\nany system of government, and fixing the several checks and controls of\nthe constitution, every man ought to be supposed a _knave_, and to have\nno other end, in all his actions, than private interest. By this\ninterest we must govern him, and, by means of it, make him,\nnotwithstanding his insatiable avarice and ambition, cooperate to public\ngood. Without this, say they, we shall in vain boast of the advantages\nof any constitution, and shall find, in the end, that we have no\nsecurity for our liberties or possessions, except the good-will of our\nrulers; that is, we shall have no security at all.\n\nIt is, therefore, a just _political_ maxim, _that every man must be\nsupposed a knave_; though, at the same time, it appears somewhat\nstrange, that a maxim should be true in _politics_ which is false in\n_fact_. But to satisfy us on this head, we may consider, that men are\ngenerally more honest in their private than in their public capacity,\nand will go greater lengths to serve a party, than when their own\nprivate interest is alone concerned. Honour is a great check upon\nmankind: but where a considerable body of men act together, this check\nis in a great measure removed, since a man is sure to be approved of by\nhis own party, for what promotes the common interest; and he soon learns\nto despise the clamours of adversaries. To which we may add, that every\ncourt or senate is determined by the greater number of voices; so that,\nif self-interest influences only the majority (as it will always do),\nthe whole senate follows the allurements of this separate interest, and\nacts as if it contained not one member who had any regard to public\ninterest and liberty.\n\nWhen there offers, therefore, to our censure and examination, any plan\nof government, real or imaginary, where the power is distributed among\nseveral courts, and several orders of men, we should always consider the\nseparate interest of each court, and each order; and if we find that, by\nthe skilful division of power, this interest must necessarily, in its\noperation, concur with the public, we may pronounce that government to\nbe wise and happy. If, on the contrary, separate interest be not\nchecked, and be not directed to the public, we ought to look for nothing\nbut faction, disorder, and tyranny from such a government. In this\nopinion I am justified by experience, as well as by the authority of\nall philosophers and politicians, both ancient and modern.\n\nHow much, therefore, would it have surprised such a genius as Cicero or\nTacitus, to have been told, that in a future age there should arise a\nvery regular system of _mixed_ government, where the authority was so\ndistributed, that one rank, whenever it pleased, might swallow up all\nthe rest, and engross the whole power of the constitution! Such a\ngovernment, they would say, will not be a mixed government. For so great\nis the natural ambition of men, that they are never satisfied with\npower; and if one order of men, by pursuing its own interest, can usurp\nupon every other order, it will certainly do so, and render itself, as\nfar as possible, absolute and uncontrollable.\n\nBut, in this opinion, experience shows they would have been mistaken.\nFor this is actually the case with the British constitution. The share\nof power allotted by our constitution to the House of Commons, is so\ngreat, that it absolutely commands all the other parts of the\ngovernment. The king's legislative power is plainly no proper check to\nit. For though the king has a negative in framing laws, yet this, in\nfact, is esteemed of so little moment, that whatever is voted by the two\nHouses, is always sure to pass into a law, and the royal assent is\nlittle better than a form. The principal weight of the crown lies in the\nexecutive; power. But, besides that the executive power in every\ngovernment is altogether subordinate to the legislative; besides this, I\nsay, the exercise of this power requires an immense expense, and the\nCommons have assumed to themselves the sole right of granting money. How\neasy, therefore, would it be for that house to wrest from the crown all\nthese powers, one after another, by making every grant conditional, and\nchoosing their time so well, that their refusal of supply should only\ndistress the government, without giving foreign powers any advantage\nover us! Did the House of Commons depend in the same manner upon the\nking, and had none of the members any property but from his gift, would\nnot he command all their resolutions, and be from that moment absolute?\nAs to the House of Lords, they are a very powerful support to the crown,\nso long as they are, in their turn, supported by it; but both experience\nand reason show, that they have no force or authority sufficient to\nmaintain themselves alone, without such support.\n\nHow, therefore, shall we solve this paradox? And by what means is this\nmember of our constitution confined within the proper limits, since,\nfrom our very constitution, it must necessarily have as much power as it\ndemands, and can only be confined by itself? How is this consistent with\nour experience of human nature? I answer, that the interest of the body\nis here restrained by that of the individuals, and that the House of\nCommons stretches not its power, because such an usurpation would be\ncontrary to the interest of the majority of its members. The crown has\nso many offices at its disposal, that, when assisted by the honest and\ndisinterested part of the House, it will always command the resolutions\nof the whole, so far, at least, as to preserve the ancient constitution\nfrom danger. We may, therefore, give to this influence what name we\nplease; we may call it by the invidious appellations of _corruption_ and\n_dependence_; but some degree and some kind of it are inseparable from\nthe very nature of the constitution, and necessary to the preservation\nof our mixed government.\n\nInstead, then, of asserting absolutely, that the dependence of\nparliament, in every degree, is an infringement of British liberty, the\ncountry party should have made some concessions to their adversaries,\nand have only examined what was the proper degree of this dependence,\nbeyond which it became dangerous to liberty. But such a moderation is\nnot to be expected in party men of any kind. After a concession of this\nnature, all declamation must be abandoned; and a calm inquiry into the\nproper degree of court influence and parliamentary dependence would have\nbeen expected by the readers. And though the advantage, in such a\ncontroversy, might possibly remain to the _country party_, yet the\nvictory would not be so complete as they wish for, nor would a true\npatriot have given an entire loose to his zeal, for fear of running\nmatters into a contrary extreme, by diminishing too[2] far the\ninfluence of the crown. It was, therefore, thought best to deny that\nthis extreme could ever be dangerous to the constitution, or that the\ncrown could ever have too little influence over members of parliament.\n\nAll questions concerning the proper medium between extremes are\ndifficult to be decided; both because it is not easy to find _words_\nproper to fix this medium, and because the good and ill, in such cases,\nrun so gradually into each other, as even to render our _sentiments_\ndoubtful and uncertain. But there is a peculiar difficulty in the\npresent case, which would embarrass the most knowing and most impartial\nexaminer. The power of the crown is always lodged in a single person,\neither king or minister; and as this person may have either a greater or\nless degree of ambition, capacity, courage, popularity, or fortune, the\npower, which is too great in one hand, may become too little in another.\nIn pure republics, where the authority is distributed among several\nassemblies or senates, the checks and controls are more regular in their\noperation; because the members of such numerous assemblies may be\npresumed to be always nearly equal in capacity and virtue; and it is\nonly their number, riches, or authority, which enter into consideration.\nBut a limited monarchy admits not of any such stability; nor is it\npossible to assign to the crown such a determinate degree of power, as\nwill, in every hand, form a proper counterbalance to the other parts of\nthe constitution. This is an unavoidable disadvantage, among the many\nadvantages attending that species of government.\n\n\n[1] I have frequently observed, in comparing the conduct of the _court_\nand _country_ party, that the former are commonly less assuming and\ndogmatical in conversation, more apt to make concessions, and though\nnot, perhaps, more susceptible of conviction, yet more able to bear\ncontradiction than the latter, who are apt to fly out upon any\nopposition, and to regard one as a mercenary, designing fellow, if he\nargues with any coolness and impartiality, or makes any concessions to\ntheir adversaries. This is a fact, which, I believe, every one may have\nobserved who has been much in companies where political questions have\nbeen discussed; though, were one to ask the reason of this difference,\nevery party would be apt to assign a different reason. Gentlemen in the\n_opposition_ will ascribe it to the very nature of their party, which,\nbeing founded on public spirit, and a zeal for the constitution, cannot\neasily endure such doctrines as are of pernicious consequence to\nliberty. The courtiers, on the other hand, will be apt to put us in mind\nof the clown mentioned by Lord Shaftesbury. 'A clown,' says that\nexcellent author, 'once took a fancy to hear the _Latin_ disputes of\ndoctors at an university. He was asked what pleasure he could take in\nviewing such combatants, when he could never know so much as which of\nthe parties had the better.'--_'For that matter,'_ replied the clown,\n_'I a'n't such a fool neither, but I can see who's the first that puts\nt'other into a passion.'_ Nature herself dictated this lesson to the\nclown, that he who had the better of the argument would be easy and well\nhumoured: but he who was unable to support his cause by reason would\nnaturally lose his temper, and grow violent.\n\nTo which of these reasons will we adhere? To neither of them, in my\nopinion, unless we have a mind to enlist ourselves and become zealots in\neither party. I believe I can assign the reason of this different\nconduct of the two parties, without offending either. The country party\nare plainly most popular at present, and perhaps have been so in most\nadministrations so that, being accustomed to prevail in company, they\ncannot endure to hear their opinions controverted, but are so confident\non the public favour, as if they were supported in all their sentiments\nby the most infallible demonstration. The courtiers, on the other hand,\nare Commonly run down by your popular talkers, that if you speak to them\nwith any moderation, or make them the smallest concessions, they think\nthemselves extremely obliged to you, and are apt to return the favour by\na like moderation and facility on their part. To be furious and\npassionate, they know, would only gain them the character of shameless\nmercenaries, not that of zealous patriots, which is the character that\nsuch a warm behaviour is apt to acquire to the other party.\n\nIn all controversies, we find, without regarding the truth or falsehood\non either side, that those who defend the established and popular\nopinions are always most dogmatical and imperious in their style: while\ntheir adversaries affect almost extraordinary gentleness and moderation,\nin order to soften, as much as possible, any prejudices that may be\nAgainst them. Consider the behaviour of our _Freethinkers_ of all\ndenominations, whether they be such as decry all revelation, or only\noppose the exorbitant power of the clergy, Collins, Tindal, Foster,\nHoadley. Compare their moderation and good manners with the furious zeal\nand scurrility of their adversaries, and you will be convinced of the\ntruth of my observation. A like difference may be observed in the\nconduct of those French writers, who maintained the controversy with\nregard to ancient and modern learning. Boileau, Monsieur and Madame\nDacier, l'Abb\u00e9 de Bos, who defended the party of the ancients, mixed\ntheir reasonings with satire and invective, while Fontenelle, la Motte,\nCharpentier, and even Perrault, never transgressed the bounds of\nmoderation and good breeding, though provoked by the most injurious\ntreatment of their adversaries.\n\nI must however observe, that this remark with regard to the seeming\nmoderation of the _court_ party, is entirely confined to conversation,\nand to gentlemen who have been engaged by interest or inclination in\nthat party. For as to the court writers, being commonly hired\nscribblers, they are altogether as scurrilous as the mercenaries of the\nother party: nor has the _Gazetteer_ any advantage, in this respect,\nabove common sense. A man of education will, in any party, discover\nhimself to be such by his goodbreeding and decency, as a scoundrel will\nalways betray the opposite qualities. _The false accusers accused_, &c.\nis very scurrilous, though that side of the question, being least\npopular, should be defended with most moderation. When L--d B--e, L--d\nM--t, Mr. L--n, take the pen in hand, though they write with warmth,\nthey presume not upon their popularity so far as to transgress the\nbounds of decency.\n\nI am led into this train of reflection by considering some papers wrote\nupon that grand topic of _court influence and parliamentary dependence_,\nwhere, in my humble opinion, the country party show too rigid an\ninflexibility, and too great a jealousy of making concessions to their\nadversaries. Their reasonings lose their force by being carried too far\nand the popularity of their opinions has seduced them to neglect in some\nmeasure their justness and solidity. The following reasoning will, I\nhope, serve to justify me in this opinion.\n\n[2] By that _influence of the crown_, which I would justify, I mean only\nthat which arises from the offices and honours that are at the disposal\nof the crown. As to private _bribery_, it may be considered in the same\nlight as the practice of employing spies, which is scarcely justifiable\nin a good minister, and is infamous in a bad one; but to be a spy, or to\nbe corrupted, is always infamous under all ministers, and is to be\nregarded as a shameless prostitution. Polybius justly esteems the\npecuniary influence of the senate and censors to be one of the regular\nand constitutional weights which preserved the balance of the Roman\ngovernment.--Lib. vi. cap. 15.\n\n\n\n\nWHETHER THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT INCLINES MORE TO ABSOLUTE MONARCHY OR TO\nA REPUBLIC\n\n\nIt affords a violent prejudice against almost every science, that no\nprudent man, however sure of his principles, dares prophesy concerning\nany event, or foretell the remote consequences of things. A physician\nwill not venture to pronounce concerning the condition of his patient a\nfortnight or a month after: and still less dares a politician foretell\nthe situation of public affairs a few years hence. Harrington thought\nhimself so sure of his general principle, _that the balance of power\ndepends on that of property_, that he ventured to pronounce it\nimpossible ever to reestablish monarchy in England: but his book was\nscarcely published when the king was restored; and we see that monarchy\nhas ever since subsisted upon the same footing as before.\nNotwithstanding this unlucky example, I will venture to examine an\nimportant question, to wit, _Whether the British Government inclines\nmore to absolute monarchy or to a republic; and in which of these two\nspecies of government it will most probably terminate?_ As there seems\nnot to be any great danger of a sudden revolution either way, I shall\nat least escape the shame attending my temerity, if I should be found to\nhave been mistaken.\n\nThose who assert that the balance of our government inclines towards\nabsolute monarchy, may support their opinion by the following reasons:\nThat property has a great influence on power cannot possibly be denied;\nbut yet the general maxim, _that the balance of the one depends on the\nbalance of the other_, must be received with several limitations. It is\nevident, that much less property in a single hand will be able to\ncounterbalance a greater property in several; not only because it is\ndifficult to make many persons combine in the same views and measures,\nbut because property, when united, causes much greater dependence than\nthe same property when dispersed. A hundred persons of \u00a31,000 a year\napiece, can consume all their income, and nobody shall ever be the\nbetter for them, except their servants and tradesmen, who justly regard\ntheir profits as the product of their own labour. But a man possessed of\n\u00a3100,000 a year, if he has either any generosity or any cunning, may\ncreate a great dependence by obligations, and still a greater by\nexpectations. Hence we may observe, that, in all free governments, any\nsubject exorbitantly rich has always created jealousy, even though his\nriches bore no proportion to those of the state. Crassus's fortune, if I\nremember well, amounted only to about two millions and a half of our\nmoney; yet we find, that though his genius was nothing extraordinary,\nhe was able, by means of his riches alone, to counterbalance, during his\nlifetime, the power of Pompey, as well as that of C\u00e6sar, who afterwards\nbecame master of the world. The wealth of the Medici made them masters\nof Florence, though it is probable it was not considerable, compared to\nthe united property of that opulent republic.\n\nThese considerations are apt to make one entertain a magnificent idea of\nthe British spirit and love of liberty, since we could maintain our free\ngovernment, during so many centuries, against our sovereigns, who,\nbesides the power, and dignity, and majesty of the crown, have always\nbeen possessed of much more property than any subject has ever enjoyed\nin any commonwealth. But it may be said that this spirit, however great,\nwill never be able to support itself against that immense property which\nis now lodged in the king, and which is still increasing. Upon a\nmoderate computation, there are near three millions a year at the\ndisposal of the crown. The civil list amounts to near a million; the\ncollection of all taxes to another; and the employments in the army and\nnavy, together with ecclesiastical preferments, to above a third\nmillion:--an enormous sum, and what may fairly be computed to be more\nthan a thirtieth part of the whole income and labour of the kingdom.\nWhen we add to this great property the increasing luxury of the nation,\nour proneness to corruption, together with the great power and\nprerogatives of the crown, and the command of military force, there is\nno one but must despair of being able, without extraordinary efforts, to\nsupport our free government much longer under these disadvantages.\n\nOn the other hand, those who maintain that the bias of the British\ngovernment leans towards a republic, may support their opinions by\nspecious arguments. It may be said, that though this immense property in\nthe crown be joined to the dignity of first magistrate, and to many\nother legal powers and prerogatives, which should naturally give it\ngreater influence; yet it really becomes less dangerous to liberty upon\nthat very account. Were England a republic, and were any private man\npossessed of a revenue, a third, or even a tenth part as large as that\nof the crown, he would very justly excite jealousy; because he would\ninfallibly have great authority in the government. And such an irregular\nauthority, not avowed by the laws, is always more dangerous than a much\ngreater authority derived from them. A man possessed of usurped power\ncan set no bounds to his pretensions: his partisans have liberty to hope\nfor every thing in his favour: his enemies provoke his ambition with his\nfears, by the violence of their opposition: and the government being\nthrown into a ferment, every corrupted humour in the state naturally\ngathers to him. On the contrary, a legal authority, though great, has\nalways some bounds, which terminate both the hopes and pretensions of\nthe person possessed of it: the laws must have provided a remedy against\nits excesses: such an eminent magistrate has much to fear, and little to\nhope, from his usurpations: and as his legal authority is quietly\nsubmitted to, he has small temptation and small opportunity of extending\nit further. Besides, it happens, with regard to ambitious aims and\nprojects, what may be observed with regard to sects of philosophy and\nreligion. A new sect excites such a ferment, and is both opposed and\ndefended with such vehemence, that it always spreads faster, and\nmultiplies its partisans with greater rapidity than any old established\nopinion, recommended by the sanction of the laws and of antiquity. Such\nis the nature of novelty, that, where any thing pleases, it becomes\ndoubly agreeable, if new: but if it displeases, it is doubly displeasing\nupon that very account. And, in most cases, the violence of enemies is\nfavourable to ambitious projects, as well as the zeal of partisans.\n\nIt may further be said, that, though men be much governed by interest,\nyet even interest itself, and all human affairs, are entirely governed\nby _opinion_. Now, there has been a sudden and sensible change in the\nopinions of men within these last fifty years, by the progress of\nlearning and of liberty. Most people in this Island have divested\nthemselves of all superstitious reverence to names and authority: the\nclergy have much lost their credit: their pretensions and doctrines\nhave been ridiculed; and even religion can scarcely support itself in\nthe world. The mere name of _king_ commands little respect; and to talk\nof a king as God's vicegerent on earth, or to give him any of those\nmagnificent titles which formerly dazzled mankind, would but excite\nlaughter in every one. Though the crown, by means of its large revenue,\nmay maintain its authority, in times of tranquillity, upon private\ninterest and influence, yet, as the least shock or convulsion must break\nall these interests to pieces, the royal power, being no longer\nsupported by the settled principles and opinions of men, will\nimmediately dissolve. Had men been in the same disposition at the\n_Revolution_, as they are at present, monarchy would have run a great\nrisk of being entirely lost in this Island.\n\nDurst I venture to deliver my own sentiments amidst these opposite\narguments, I would assert, that, unless there happen some extraordinary\nconvulsion, the power of the crown, by means of its large revenue, is\nrather upon the increase; though at the same time, I own that its\nprogress seems very slow, and almost insensible. The tide has run long,\nand with some rapidity, to the side of popular government, and is just\nbeginning to turn towards monarchy.\n\nIt is well known, that every government must come to a period, and that\ndeath is unavoidable to the political, as well as to the animal body.\nBut, as one kind of death may be preferable to another, it may be\ninquired, whether it be more desirable for the British constitution to\nterminate in a popular government, or in an absolute monarchy? Here I\nwould frankly declare, that though liberty be preferable to slavery, in\nalmost every case; yet I should rather wish to see an absolute monarch\nthan a republic in this Island. For let us consider what kind of\nrepublic we have reason to expect. The question is not concerning any\nfine imaginary republic, of which a man forms a plan in his closet.\nThere is no doubt but a popular government may be imagined more perfect\nthan an absolute monarchy, or even than our present constitution. But\nwhat reason have we to expect that any such government will ever be\nestablished in Great Britain, upon the dissolution of our monarchy? If\nany single person acquire power enough to take our constitution to\npieces, and put it up anew, he is really an absolute monarch; and we\nhave already had an instance of this kind, sufficient to convince us,\nthat such a person will never resign his power, or establish any free\ngovernment. Matters, therefore, must be trusted to their natural\nprogress and operation; and the House of Commons, according to its\npresent constitution, must be the only legislature in such a popular\ngovernment. The inconveniences attending such a situation of affairs\npresent themselves by thousands. If the House of Commons, in such a\ncase, ever dissolve itself, which is not to be expected, we may look for\na civil war every election. If it continue itself, we shall suffer all\nthe tyranny of a faction sub-divided into new factions. And, as such a\nviolent government cannot long subsist, we shall, at last, after many\nconvulsions and civil wars, find repose in absolute monarchy, which it\nwould have been happier for us to have established peaceably from the\nbeginning. Absolute monarchy, therefore, is the easiest death, the true\n_Euthanasia_ of the British constitution.\n\nThus, if we have reason to be more jealous of monarchy, because the\ndanger is more imminent from that quarter; we have also reason to be\nmore jealous of popular government, because that danger is more\nterrible. This may teach us a lesson of moderation in all our political\ncontroversies.\n\n\n\n\nOF PARTIES IN GENERAL\n\n\nOf all men that distinguish themselves by memorable achievements, the\nfirst place of honour seems due to LEGISLATORS and founders of states,\nwho transmit a system of laws and institutions to secure the peace,\nhappiness, and liberty of future generations. The influence of useful\ninventions in the arts and sciences may, perhaps, extend further than\nthat of wise laws, whose effects are limited both in time and place; but\nthe benefit arising from the former is not so sensible as that which\nresults from the latter. Speculative sciences do, indeed, improve the\nmind, but this advantage reaches only to a few persons, who have leisure\nto apply themselves to them. And as to practical arts, which increase\nthe commodities and enjoyments of life, it is well known that men's\nhappiness consists not so much in an abundance of these, as in the peace\nand security with which they possess them: and those blessings can only\nbe derived from good government. Not to mention, that general virtue and\ngood morals in a state, which are so requisite to happiness, can never\narise from the most refined precepts of philosophy, or even the severest\ninjunctions of religion; but must proceed entirely from the virtuous\neducation of youth, the effect of wise laws and institutions. I must,\ntherefore, presume to differ from Lord Bacon in this particular, and\nmust regard antiquity as somewhat unjust in its distribution of honours,\nwhen it made gods of all the inventors of useful arts, such as Ceres,\nBacchus, \u00c6sculapius and dignified legislators, such as Romulus and\nTheseus, only with the appellation of demigods and heroes.\n\nAs much as legislators and founders of states ought to be honoured and\nrespected among men, as much ought the founders of sects and factions to\nbe detested and hated; because the influence of faction is directly\ncontrary to that of laws. Factions subvert government, render laws\nimpotent, and beget the fiercest animosities among men of the same\nnation, who ought to give mutual assistance and protection to each\nother. And what should render the founders of parties more odious, is\nthe difficulty of extirpating these weeds, when once they have taken\nroot in any state. They naturally propagate themselves for many\ncenturies, and seldom end but by the total dissolution of that\ngovernment, in which they are sown. They are, besides, plants which grow\nmost plentiful in the richest soil; and though absolute governments be\nnot wholly free from them, it must be confessed, that they rise more\neasily, and propagate themselves faster in free governments, where they\nalways infect the legislature itself, which alone could be able, by the\nsteady application of rewards and punishments, to eradicate them.\n\nFactions may be divided into Personal and Real; that is, into factions\nfounded on personal friendship or animosity among such as compose the\ncontending parties, and into those founded on some real difference of\nsentiment or interest. The reason of this distinction is obvious, though\nI must acknowledge, that parties are seldom found pure and unmixed,\neither of the one kind or the other. It is not often seen, that a\ngovernment divides into factions, where there is no difference in the\nviews of the constituent members, either real or apparent, trivial or\nmaterial: and in those factions, which are founded on the most real and\nmost material difference, there is always observed a great deal of\npersonal animosity or affection. But notwithstanding this mixture, a\nparty may be denominated either personal or real, according to that\nprinciple which is predominant, and is found to have the greatest\ninfluence.\n\nPersonal factions arise most easily in small republics. Every domestic\nquarrel, there, becomes an affair of state. Love, vanity, emulation, any\npassion, as well as ambition and resentment, begets public division. The\nNERI and BIANCHI of Florence, the FREGOSI and ADORNI of Genoa, the\nCOLONNESI and ORSINI of modern Rome, were parties of this kind.\n\nMen have such a propensity to divide into personal factions, that the\nsmallest appearance of real difference will produce them. What can be\nimagined more trivial than the difference between one colour of livery\nand another in horse races? Yet this difference begat two most\ninveterate factions in the Greek empire, the PRASINI and VENETI, who\nnever suspended their animosities till they ruined that unhappy\ngovernment.\n\nWe find in the Roman history a remarkable dissension between two tribes,\nthe POLLIA and PAPIRIA, which continued for the space of near three\nhundred years, and discovered itself in their suffrages at every\nelection of magistrates. This faction was the more remarkable, as it\ncould continue for so long a tract of time; even though it did not\nspread itself, nor draw any of the other tribes into a share of the\nquarrel. If mankind had not a strong propensity to such divisions, the\nindifference of the rest of the community must have suppressed this\nfoolish animosity, that had not any aliment of new benefits and\ninjuries, of general sympathy and antipathy, which never fail to take\nplace, when the whole state is rent into equal factions.\n\nNothing is more usual than to see parties, which have begun upon a real\ndifference, continue even after that difference is lost. When men are\nonce enlisted on opposite sides, they contract an affection to the\npersons with whom they are united, and an animosity against their\nantagonists; and these passions they often transmit to their posterity.\nThe real difference between Guelf and Ghibelline was long lost in\nItaly, before these factions were extinguished. The Guelfs adhered to\nthe pope, the Ghibellines to the emperor; yet the family of Sforza, who\nwere in alliance with the emperor, though they were Guelfs, being\nexpelled Milan by the king of France, assisted by Jacomo Trivulzio and\nthe Ghibellines, the pope concurred with the latter, and they formed\nleagues with the pope against the emperor.\n\nThe civil wars which arose some few years ago in Morocco between the\n_Blacks_ and _Whites_, merely on account of their complexion, are\nfounded on a pleasant difference. We laugh at them; but, I believe, were\nthings rightly examined, we afford much more occasion of ridicule to the\nMoors. For, what are all the wars of religion, which have prevailed in\nthis polite and knowing part of the world? They are certainly more\nabsurd than the Moorish civil wars. The difference of complexion is a\nsensible and a real difference; but the controversy about an article of\nfaith, which is utterly absurd and unintelligible, is not a difference\nin sentiment, but in a few phrases and expressions, which one party\naccepts of without understanding them, and the other refuses in the same\nmanner.[1]\n\n_Real_ factions may be divided into those from _interest_, from\n_principle_, and from _affection_. Of all factions, the first are the\nmost reasonable, and the most excusable. Where two orders of men, such\nas the nobles and people, have a distinct authority in a government, not\nvery accurately balanced and modelled, they naturally follow a distinct\ninterest; nor can we reasonably expect a different conduct, considering\nthat degree of selfishness implanted in human nature. It requires great\nskill in a legislator to prevent such parties; and many philosophers are\nof opinion, that this secret, like the _grand elixir_, or _perpetual\nmotion_, may amuse men in theory, but can never possibly be reduced to\npractice. In despotic governments, indeed, factions often do not appear;\nbut they are not the less real; or rather, they are more real and more\npernicious upon that very account. The distinct orders of men, nobles\nand people, soldiers and merchants, have all a distinct interest; but\nthe more powerful oppresses the weaker with impunity, and without\nresistance; which begets a seeming tranquillity in such governments.\n\nThere has been an attempt in England to divide the _landed_ and\n_trading_ part of the nation; but without success. The interests of\nthese two bodies are not really distinct, and never will be so, till our\npublic debts increase to such a degree as to become altogether\noppressive and intolerable.\n\nParties from _principle_, especially abstract speculative principle,\nare known only to modern times, and are, perhaps, the most extraordinary\nand unaccountable _phenomenon_ that has yet appeared in human affairs.\nWhere different principles beget a contrariety of conduct, which is the\ncase with all different political principles, the matter may be more\neasily explained. A man who esteems the true right of government to lie\nin one man, or one family, cannot easily agree with his fellow-citizen,\nwho thinks that another man or family is possessed of this right. Each\nnaturally wishes that right may take place, according to his own notions\nof it. But where the difference of principle is attended with no\ncontrariety of action, but every one may follow his own way, without\ninterfering with his neighbour, as happens in all religious\ncontroversies, what madness, what fury, can beget such an unhappy and\nsuch fatal divisions?\n\nTwo men travelling on the highway, the one east, the other west, can\neasily pass each other, if the way be broad enough: but two men,\nreasoning upon opposite principles of religion, cannot so easily pass,\nwithout shocking, though one should think, that the way were also, in\nthat case, sufficiently broad and that each might proceed, without\ninterruption, in his own course. But such is the nature of the human\nmind, that it always lays hold on every mind that approaches it; and as\nit is wonderfully fortified by an unanimity of sentiments, so it is\nshocked and disturbed by any contrariety. Hence the eagerness which\nmost people discover in a dispute; and hence their impatience of\nopposition, even in the most speculative and indifferent opinions.\n\nThis principle, however frivolous it may appear, seems to have been the\norigin of all religious wars and divisions. But as this principle is\nuniversal in human nature, its effects would not have been confined to\none age, and to one sect of religion, did it not there concur with other\nmore accidental causes, which raise it to such a height as to produce\nthe greatest misery and devastation. Most religions of the ancient world\narose in the unknown ages of government, when men were as yet barbarous\nand uninstructed, and the prince, as well as peasant, was disposed to\nreceive, with implicit faith, every pious tale or fiction which was\noffered him. The magistrate embraced the religion of the people, and,\nentering cordially into the care of sacred matters, naturally acquired\nan authority in them, and united the ecclesiastical with the civil\npower. But the _Christian_ religion arising, while principles directly\nopposite to it were firmly established in the polite part of the world,\nwho despised the nation that first broached this novelty; no wonder\nthat, in such circumstances, it was but little countenanced by the civil\nmagistrate, and that the priesthood was allowed to engross all the\nauthority in the new sect. So bad a use did they make of this power,\neven in those early times, that the primitive persecutions may, perhaps\n_in part_,[2] be ascribed to the violence instilled by them into their\nfollowers.\n\nAnd the same principles of priestly government continuing, after\nChristianity became the established religion, they have engendered a\nspirit of persecution, which has ever since been the poison of human\nsociety, and the source of the most inveterate factions in every\ngovernment. Such divisions, therefore, on the part of the people, may\njustly be esteemed factions of _principle_, but, on the part of the\npriests, who are the prime movers, they are really factions of\n_interest_.\n\nThere is another cause (beside the authority of the priests, and the\nseparation of the ecclesiastical and civil powers), which has\ncontributed to render Christendom the scene of religious wars and\ndivisions. Religions that arise in ages totally ignorant and barbarous,\nconsist mostly of traditional tales and fictions, which may be different\nin every sect, without being contrary to each other; and even when they\nare contrary, every one adheres to the tradition of his own sect,\nwithout much reasoning or disputation. But as philosophy was widely\nspread over the world at the time when Christianity arose, the teachers\nof the new sect were obliged to form a system of speculative opinions,\nto divide, with some accuracy, their articles of faith, and to explain,\ncomment, confute, and defend, with all the subtlety of argument and\nscience. Hence naturally arose keenness in dispute, when the Christian\nreligion came to be split into new divisions and heresies: and this\nkeenness assisted the priests in the policy of begetting a mutual hatred\nand antipathy among their deluded followers. Sects of philosophy, in the\nancient world, were more zealous than parties of religion; but, in\nmodern times, parties of religion are more furious and enraged than the\nmost cruel factions that ever arose from interest and ambition.\n\nI have mentioned parties from _affection_ as a kind of _real_ parties,\nbeside those from _interest_ and _principle_. By parties from affection,\nI understand those which are founded on the different attachments of men\ntowards particular families and persons whom they desire to rule over\nthem. These factions are often very violent; though, I must own, it may\nseem unaccountable that men should attach themselves so strongly to\npersons with whom they are nowise acquainted, whom perhaps they never\nsaw, and from whom they never received, nor can ever hope for, any\nfavour. Yet this we often find to be the case, and even with men, who,\non other occasions, discover no great generosity of spirit, nor are\nfound to be easily transported by friendship beyond their own interest.\nWe are apt to think the relation between us and our sovereign very close\nand intimate. The splendour of majesty and power bestows an importance\non the fortunes even of a single person. And when a man's good-nature\ndoes not give him this imaginary interest, his ill-nature will, from\nspite and opposition to persons whose sentiments are different from his\nown.\n\n\n[1] Besides I do not find that the _Whites_ in Morocco ever imposed on\nthe Blacks any necessity pi altering their complexion, or frightened\nthem with inquisitions and penal laws in case of obstinacy. Nor have the\nBlacks been more unreasonable in this particular. But is a man's\nopinion, where he is able to form a real opinion, more at his disposal\nthan his complexion? And can one be induced by force or fear to do more\nthan paint and disguise in the one case as well as in the other.\n\n[2] I say _in part_; for it is a vulgar error to imagine, that the\nancients were as great friends to toleration as the English or Dutch are\nat present. The laws against external superstition, among the Romans,\nwere as ancient as the time of the Twelve Tables; and the Jews, as well\nas Christians, were sometimes punished by them; though, in general,\nthese laws were not rigorously executed. Immediately after the conquest\nof Gaul, they forbade all but the natives to be initiated into the\nreligion of the Druids; and this was a kind of persecution. In about a\ncentury after this conquest, the emperor Claudius quite abolished that\nsuperstition by penal laws; which would have been a very grievous\npersecution, if the imitation of the Roman manners had not, beforehand,\nweaned the Gauls from their ancient prejudices. Suetonius _in vita\nClaudii_. Pliny ascribes the abolition of the Druidical superstitions to\nTiberius, probably because that emperor had taken some steps towards\nrestraining them (lib. xxx. cap. i). This is an instance of the usual\ncaution and moderation of the Romans in such cases; and very different\nfrom their violent and sanguinary method of treating the Christians.\nHence we may entertain a suspicion, that those furious persecutions of\n_Christianity_ were in some measure owing to the imprudent zeal and\nbigotry of the first propagators of that sect; and ecclesiastical\nhistory affords us many reasons to confirm this suspicion.\n\n\n\n\nOF THE PARTIES OF GREAT BRITAIN\n\n\nWere the British government proposed as a subject of speculation, one\nwould immediately perceive in it a source of division and party, which\nit would be almost impossible for it, under any administration, to\navoid. The just balance between the republican and monarchical part of\nour constitution is really in itself so extremely delicate and\nuncertain, that, when joined to men's passions and prejudices, it is\nimpossible but different opinions must arise concerning it, even among\npersons of the best understanding. Those of mild tempers, who love peace\nand order, and detest sedition and civil wars, will always entertain\nmore favourable sentiments of monarchy than men of bold and generous\nspirits, who are passionate lovers of liberty, and think no evil\ncomparable to subjection and slavery. And though all reasonable men\nagree in general to preserve our mixed government, yet, when they come\nto particulars, some will incline to trust greater powers to the crown,\nto bestow on it more influence, and to guard against its encroachments\nwith less caution, than others who are terrified at the most distant\napproaches of tyranny and despotic power. Thus are there parties of\nPRINCIPLE involved in the very nature of our constitution, which may\nproperly enough he denominated those of COURT and COUNTRY.[1] The\nstrength and violence of each of these parties will much depend upon the\nparticular administration. An administration may be so bad, as to throw\na great majority into the opposition; as a good administration will\nreconcile to the court many of the most passionate lovers of liberty.\nBut however the nation may fluctuate between them, the parties\nthemselves will always subsist, so long as we are governed by a limited\nmonarchy.\n\nBut, besides this difference of _Principle_, those parties are very much\nfomented by a difference of INTEREST, without which they could scarcely\never be dangerous or violent. The crown will naturally bestow all trust\nand power upon those whose principles, real or pretended, are most\nfavourable to monarchical government; and this temptation will naturally\nengage them to go greater lengths than their principles would otherwise\ncarry them. Their antagonists, who are disappointed in their ambitious\naims, throw themselves into the party whose sentiments incline them to\nbe most jealous of royal power, and naturally carry those sentiments to\na greater height than sound politics will justify. Thus _Court_ and\n_Country_, which are the genuine offspring of the British government,\nare a kind of mixed parties, and are influenced both by principle and by\ninterest. The heads of the factions are commonly most governed by the\nlatter motive; the inferior members of them by the former.[2]\n\nAs to ecclesiastical parties, we may observe, that, in all ages of the\nworld, priests have been enemies to liberty;[3] and, it is certain, that\nthis steady conduct of theirs must have been founded on fixed reasons of\ninterest and ambition. Liberty of thinking, and of expressing our\nthoughts, is always fatal to priestly power, and to those pious frauds\non which it is commonly founded; and, by an infallible connection, which\nprevails among all kinds of liberty, this privilege can never be\nenjoyed, at least has never yet been enjoyed, but in a free government.\nHence it must happen, in such a constitution as that of Great Britain,\nthat the established clergy, while things are in their natural\nsituation, will always be of the _Court_ party; as, on the contrary,\ndissenters of all kinds will be of the _Country_ party; since they can\nnever hope for that toleration which they stand in need of, but by means\nof our free government. All princes that have aimed at despotic power\nhave known of what importance it was to gain the established clergy; as\nthe clergy, on their part, have shown a great facility in entering into\nthe views of such princes. Gustavus Vasa was, perhaps, the only\nambitious monarch that ever depressed the church, at the same time that\nhe discouraged liberty. But the exorbitant power of the bishops in\nSweden, who at that time overtopped the crown itself, together with\ntheir attachment to a foreign family, was the reason of his embracing\nsuch an unusual system of politics.\n\nThis observation, concerning propensity of priests to the government of\na single person, is not true with regard to one sect only. The\n_Presbyterian_ and _Calvinistic_ clergy in Holland, were professed\nfriends to the family of Orange; as the _Arminians_, who were esteemed\nheretics, were of the Louvestein faction, and zealous for liberty. But\nif a prince have the choice of both, it is easy to see that he will\nprefer the Episcopal to the Presbyterian form of government, both\nbecause of the greater affinity between monarchy and episcopacy, and\nbecause of the facility which he will find, in such a government, of\nruling the clergy by means of their ecclesiastical superiors.\n\nIf we consider the first rise of parties in England, during the great\nrebellion, we shall observe that it was conformable to this general\ntheory, and that the species of government gave birth to them by a\nregular and infallible operation. The English constitution, before that\nperiod, had lain in a kind of confusion, yet so as that the subjects\npossessed many noble privileges, which, though not exactly bounded and\nsecured by law, were universally deemed, from long possession, to belong\nto them as their birthright. An ambitious, or rather a misguided, prince\narose, who deemed all these privileges to be concessions of his\npredecessors, revocable at pleasure; and, in prosecution of this\nprinciple, he openly acted in violation of liberty during the course of\nseveral years. Necessity, at last, constrained him to call a parliament;\nthe spirit of liberty arose and spread itself; the prince, being without\nany support, was obliged to grant every thing required of him; and his\nenemies, jealous and implacable, set no bounds to their pretensions.\nHere, then, began those contests in which it was no wonder that men of\nthat age were divided into different parties; since, even at this day,\nthe impartial are at a loss to decide concerning the justice of the\nquarrel. The pretensions of the parliament, if yielded to, broke the\nbalance of the constitution, by rendering the government almost\nentirely republican. If not yielded to, the nation was, perhaps, still\nin danger of absolute power, from the settled principles and inveterate\nhabits of the king, which had plainly appeared in every concession that\nhe had been constrained to make to his people. In this question, so\ndelicate and uncertain, men naturally fell to the side which was most\nconformable to their usual principles; and the more passionate favourers\nof monarchy declared for the king, as the zealous friends of liberty\nsided with the parliament. The hopes of success being nearly equal on\nboth sides, _interest_ had no general influence in this contest; so that\nROUNDHEAD and CAVALIER were merely parties of principle, neither of\nwhich disowned either monarchy or liberty; but the former party inclined\nmost to the republican part of our government, the latter to the\nmonarchical. In this respect, they may be considered as court and\ncountry party, inflamed into a civil war, by an unhappy concurrence of\ncircumstances, and by the turbulent spirit of the age. The\ncommonwealth's men, and the partisans of absolute power, lay concealed\nin both parties, and formed but an inconsiderable part of them.\n\nThe clergy had concurred with the king's arbitrary designs; and, in\nreturn, were allowed to persecute their adversaries, whom they called\nheretics and schismatics. The established clergy were Episcopal, the\nnonconformists Presbyterian; so that all things concurred to throw the\nformer, without reserve, into the king's party, and the latter into\nthat of the parliament.[4]\n\nEvery one knows the event of this quarrel; fatal to the king first, to\nthe parliament afterwards. After many confusions and revolutions, the\nroyal family was at last restored, and the ancient government\nreestablished. Charles II was not made wiser by the example of his\nfather, but prosecuted the same measures, though, at first, with more\nsecrecy and caution. New parties arose, under the appellation of _Whig_\nand _Tory_, which have continued ever since to confound and distract our\ngovernment. To determine the nature of these parties is perhaps one of\nthe most difficult problems that can be met with, and is a proof that\nhistory may contain questions as uncertain as any to be found in the\nmost abstract sciences. We have seen the conduct of the two parties,\nduring the course of seventy years, in a vast variety of circumstances,\npossessed of power, and deprived of it, during peace, and during war:\npersons, who profess themselves of one side or other, we meet with\nevery hour, in company, in our pleasures, in our serious occupations we\nourselves are constrained, in a manner, to take party; and, living in a\ncountry of the highest liberty, every one may openly declare all the\nsentiments and opinions: yet are we at a loss to tell the nature,\npretensions, and principles, of the different factions.[5]\n\nWhen we compare the parties of WHIG and TORY with those of ROUNDHEAD and\nCAVALIER, the most obvious difference that appears between them consists\nin the principles of _passive obedience_, and _indefeasible right_,\nwhich were but little heard of among the Cavaliers, but became the\nuniversal doctrine, and were esteemed the true characteristic of a Tory.\nWere these principles pushed into their most obvious consequences, they\nimply a formal renunciation of all our liberties, and an avowal of\nabsolute monarchy; since nothing can be greater absurdity than a limited\npower, which must not be resisted, even when it exceeds its limitations.\nBut, as the most rational principles are often but a weak counterpoise\nto passion, it is no wonder that these absurd principles were found too\nweak for that effect. The Tories, as men, were enemies to oppression;\nand also as Englishmen, they were enemies to arbitrary power. Their zeal\nfor liberty was, perhaps, less fervent than that of their antagonists,\nbut was sufficient to make them forget all their general principles,\nwhen they saw themselves openly threatened with a subversion of the\nancient government. From these sentiments arose the _Revolution_, an\nevent of mighty consequence, and the firmest foundation of British\nliberty. The conduct of the Tories during that event, and after it, will\nafford us a true insight into the nature of that party.\n\nIn the _first_ place, they appear to have had the genuine sentiments of\nBritons in their affection for liberty, and in their determined\nresolution not to sacrifice it to any abstract principle whatsoever, or\nto any imaginary rights of princes. This part of their character might\njustly have been doubted of before the Revolution, from the obvious\ntendency of their avowed principles, and from their compliances with a\ncourt, which seemed to make little secret of its arbitrary designs. The\nRevolution showed them to have been, in this respect, nothing but a\ngenuine _court party_, such as might be expected in a British\ngovernment; that is, _lovers of liberty, but greater lovers of\nmonarchy_. It must, however, be confessed, that they carried their\nmonarchical principles further even in practice, but more so in theory,\nthan was in any degree consistent with a limited government.\n\n_Secondly_, Neither their principles nor affections concurred, entirely\nor heartily, with the settlement made at the _Revolution_, or with that\nwhich has since taken place. This part of their character may seem\nopposite to the former, since any other settlement, in those\ncircumstances of the nation, must probably have been dangerous, if not\nfatal, to liberty. But the heart of man is made to reconcile\ncontradictions; and this contradiction is not greater than that between\n_passive obedience_ and the _resistance_ employed at the Revolution. A\nTORY, therefore, since the _Revolution_, may be defined, in a few words,\nto be a _lover of monarchy, though without abandoning liberty, and a\npartisan of the family of Stuart_: _as a WHIG may be defined to be a\nlover of liberty, though without renouncing monarchy, and a friend to\nthe settlement in the Protestant line._[6]\n\nThese different views, with regard to the settlement of the crown, were\naccidental, but natural, additions, to the principles of the _Court_\nand _Country_ parties, which are the genuine divisions in the British\nGovernment. A passionate lover of monarchy is apt to be displeased at\nany change of the succession, as savouring too much of a commonwealth: a\npassionate lover of liberty is apt to think that every part of the\ngovernment ought to be subordinate to the interests of liberty.\n\nSome, who will not venture to assert that the _real_ difference between\nWhig and Tory was lost at the _Revolution_, seem inclined to think, that\nthe difference is now abolished, and that affairs are so far returned to\ntheir natural state, that there are at present no other parties among us\nbut _Court_ and _Country_; that is, men who, by interest or principle,\nare attached either to monarchy or liberty. The Tories have been so long\nobliged to talk in the republican style, that they seem to have made\nconverts of themselves by their hypocrisy, and to have embraced the\nsentiments, as well as language of their adversaries. There are,\nhowever, very considerable remains of that party in England, with all\ntheir old prejudices; and a proof that _Court_ and _Country_ are not our\nonly parties, is that almost all the dissenters side with the court, and\nthe lower clergy, at least of the church or England, with the\nopposition. This may convince us, that some bias still hangs upon our\nconstitution, some extrinsic weight, which turns it from its natural\ncourse, and causes a confusion in our parties.[7]\n\n\n[1] These words have become of general use, and therefore I shall employ\nthem without intending to express by them an universal blame of the one\nparty, or approbation of the other. The Court party may no doubt, on\nsome occasions, consult best the interest of the country, and the\nCountry party oppose it. In like manner, the _Roman_ parties were\ndenominated Optimates and Populares; and Cicero, like a true party man,\ndefines the Optimates to be such as, in all their public conduct,\nregulated themselves by the sentiments of the best and worthiest Romans;\n_pro Sextio_. The term of Country party may afford a favourable\ndefinition or etymology of the same kind; but it would be folly to draw\nany argument from that head, and I have no regard to it in employing\nthese terms.\n\n[2] I must be understood to mean this of persons who have any motive for\ntaking party on any side. For, to tell the truth, the greatest part are\ncommonly men who associate themselves they know not why; from example,\nfrom passion, from idleness. But still it is requisite there be some\nsource of division, either in principle or interest; otherwise such\npersons would not find parties to which they could associate themselves.\n\n[3] This proposition is true, notwithstanding that, in the early times\nof the English government, the clergy were the great and principal\nopposers of the crown; but at that time their possessions were so\nimmensely great, that they composed a considerable part of the\nproprietors of England, and in many contests were direct rivals of the\ncrown.\n\n[4] The clergy had concurred in a shameless manner with the King's\narbitrary designs, according to their usual maxims in such cases, and,\nin return, were allowed to persecute their adversaries, whom they called\nheretics and schismatics. The established clergy were Episcopal, the\nnonconformists Presbyterians; so that all things concurred to throw the\nformer, without reserve, into the King's party, and the latter into that\nof the Parliament. The _Cavaliers_ being the Court party, and the\n_Roundheads_ the Country party, the union was infallible betwixt the\nformer and the established prelacy, and betwixt the latter and\nPresbyterian nonconformists. This union is so natural, according to the\ngeneral principles of politics, that it requires some very extraordinary\nsituation of affairs to break it.\n\n[5] The question is perhaps in itself somewhat difficult, but has been\nrendered more so by the prejudices and violence of party.\n\n[6] The celebrated writer above cited has asserted, that the\nreal distinction betwixt _Whig_ and Tory was lost at the _Revolution_,\nand that ever since they have continued to be mere _personal_ parties,\nlike the _Guelfs_ and Ghibellines, after the Emperors had lost all\nauthority in Italy. Such an opinion, were it received, would turn our\nwhole history into an enigma.\n\nI shall first mention, as a proof of a real distinction betwixt these\nparties, what every one may have observed or heard concerning the\nconduct and conversation of all his friends and acquaintance on both\nsides. Have not the _Tories_ always borne an avowed affection to the\nfamily of _Stuart_, and have not their adversaries always opposed with\nvigour the succession of that family?\n\nThe _Tory_ principles are confessedly the most favourable to monarchy.\nYet the _Tories_ have almost always opposed the court these fifty years;\nnor were they cordial friends to King _William_, even when employed by\nhim. Their quarrel, therefore, cannot be supposed to have lain with the\nthrone, but with the person who sat on it.\n\nThey concurred heartily with the court during the four last years of\nQueen _Anne_. But is any one at a loss to find the reason?\n\nThe succession of the crown in the British government is a point of too\ngreat consequence to be absolutely indifferent to persons who concern\nthemselves, in any degree, about the fortune of the public; much less\ncan it be supposed that the Tory party, who never valued themselves upon\nmoderation, could maintain a _stoical_ indifference in a point of so\ngreat importance. Were they, therefore, zealous for the house of\n_Hanover_? or was there any thing that kept an opposite zeal from openly\nappearing, if it did not openly appear, but prudence, and a sense of\ndecency?\n\nIt is monstrous to see an established Episcopal clergy in declared\nopposition to the court, and a nonconformist Presbyterian clergy in\nconjunction with it. What can produce such an unnatural conduct in both?\nNothing, but that the former have espoused monarchical principles too\nhigh for the present settlement, which is founded on the principles of\nliberty, and the latter, being afraid of the prevalence of those high\nprinciples, adhere to that party from whom they have reason to expect\nliberty and toleration.\n\nThe different conduct of the two parties, with regard to foreign\npolitics, is also a proof to the same purpose. _Holland_ has always been\nmost favoured by one, and _France_ by the other. In short, the proofs of\nthis kind seem so palpable and evident, that it is almost needless to\ncollect them.\n\nIt is however remarkable, that though the principles of _Whig_ and\n_Tory_ be both of them of a compound nature, yet the ingredients which\npredominated in both were not correspondent to each other. A _Tory_\nloved monarchy, and bore an affection to the family of _Stuart_; but the\nlatter affection was the predominant inclination of the party. A _Whig_\nloved liberty, and was a friend to the settlement in the Protestant\nline; but the love of liberty was professedly his predominant\ninclination. The Tories have frequently acted as republicans, where\neither policy or revenge has engaged them to that conduct; and there was\nnone of the party who, upon the supposition that they were to be\ndisappointed in their views with regard to the succession, would not\nhave desired to impose the strictest limitations on the crown, and to\nbring our form of government as near republican as possible, in order to\ndepress the family, that, according to their apprehension, succeeded\nwithout any just title. The Whigs, it is true, have also taken steps\ndangerous to liberty, under pretext of securing the succession and\nsettlement of the crown according to their views; but, as the body of\nthe party had no passion for that succession, otherwise than as the\nmeans of securing liberty, they have been betrayed into these steps by\nignorance or frailty, or the interest of their leaders. The succession\nof the crown was, therefore, the chief point with the Tories; the\nsecurity of our liberties with the Whigs.\n\nIt is difficult to penetrate into the thoughts and sentiments of any\nparticular man; but it is almost impossible to distinguish those of a\nwhole party, where it often happens that no two persons agree precisely\nin the same way of thinking. Yet I will venture to affirm, that it was\nnot so much principle, or an opinion of indefeasible right, that\nattached the Tories to the ancient family, as affection, or a certain\nlove and esteem for their persons. The same cause divided England\nformerly betwixt the houses of York and Lancaster, and Scotland betwixt\nthe families of Bruce and Baliol, in an age when political disputes were\nbut little in fashion, and when political principles must of course have\nhad but little influence on mankind. The doctrine of passive obedience\nis so absurd in itself, and so opposite to our liberties, that it seems\nto have been chiefly left to pulpit declaimers, and to their deluded\nfollowers among the _mob_ Men of better sense were guided by\n_affection_, and as to the leaders of this party, it is probable that\ninterest was their sole motive, and that they acted more contrary to\ntheir private sentiments than the leaders of the opposite party.\n\nSome who will not venture to assert, that the _real_ difference between\nWhig and Tory, was lost at the _Revolution_, seem inclined to think that\nthe difference is now abolished, and that affairs are so far returned to\ntheir natural state, that there are at present no other parties amongst\nus but _Court_ and _Country_; that is, men who, by interest or principle,\nare attached either to Monarchy or to Liberty. It must indeed be\nconfessed, that the Tory party seem of late to have decayed much in\ntheir numbers, still more in their zeal, and I may venture to say, still\nmore in their credit and authority. There are few men of knowledge or\nlearning, at least few philosophers since Mr. Locke has wrote, who would\nnot be ashamed to be thought of that party; and in almost all companies,\nthe name of _Old Whig_ is mentioned as an incontestable appellation of\nhonour and dignity. Accordingly, the enemies of the ministry, as a\nreproach, call the courtiers the true _Tories_ and, as an honour,\ndenominate the gentlemen in the Opposition the true _Whigs_.\n\nI shall conclude this subject with observing, that we never had any\nTories in Scotland, according to the proper signification of the word,\nand that the division of parties in this country was really into Whigs\nand Jacobites. A Jacobite seems to be a Tory, who has no regard to the\nconstitution, but is either a zealous partisan of absolute monarchy, or\nat least willing to sacrifice our liberties to the obtaining the\nsuccession in that family to which he is attached. The reason of the\ndifference betwixt England and Scotland I take to be this. Our political\nand religious divisions in this country have been, since the Revolution,\nregularly correspondent to each other. The Presbyterians were all Whigs,\nwithout exception; the Episcopalians of the opposite party. And as the\nclergy of the latter sect were turned out of their churches at the\nRevolution, they had no motive to make any compliances with the\ngovernment in their oaths or forms of prayer, but openly avowed the\nhighest principles of their party; which is the cause why their\nfollowers have been more barefaced and violent than their brethren of\nthe Tory party in England.\n\n[7] Some of the opinions delivered in these Essays, with regard to the\npublic transactions in the last century, the Author, on a more accurate\nexamination, found reason to retract in his History of Great Britain.\nAnd as he would not enslave himself to the systems of either party,\nneither would he fetter his judgment by his own preconceived opinions\nand principles; nor is he ashamed to acknowledge his mistakes. These\nmistakes were indeed, at that time almost universal in this kingdom.\n\n\n\n\nOF SUPERSTITION AND ENTHUSIASM\n\n\nThat _the corruption of the best of things produces the worst_, is grown\ninto a maxim, and is commonly proved, among other instances, by the\npernicious effects of _superstition_ and _enthusiasm_, the corruptions\nof true religion.\n\nThese two species of false religion, though both pernicious, are yet of\na very different, and even of a contrary nature. The mind of man is\nsubject to certain unaccountable terrors and apprehensions, proceeding\neither from the unhappy situation of private or public affairs, from ill\nhealth, from a gloomy and melancholy disposition, or from the\nconcurrence of all these circumstances. In such a state of mind,\ninfinite unknown evils are dreaded from unknown agents; and where real\nobjects of terror are wanting, the soul, active to its own prejudice,\nand fostering its predominant inclination, finds imaginary ones, to\nwhose power and malevolence it sets no limits. As these enemies are\nentirely invisible and unknown, the methods taken to appease them are\nequally unaccountable, and consist in ceremonies, observances,\nmortifications, sacrifices, presents, or in any practice, however absurd\nor frivolous, which either folly or knavery recommends to a blind and\nterrified credulity. Weakness, fear, melancholy, together with\nignorance, are, therefore, the true sources of Superstition.\n\nBut the mind of man is also subject to an unaccountable elevation and\npresumption, arising from prosperous success, from luxuriant health,\nfrom strong spirits, or from a bold and confident disposition. In such a\nstate of mind, the imagination swells with great, but confused\nconceptions, to which no sublunary beauties or enjoyments can\ncorrespond. Every thing mortal and perishable vanishes as unworthy of\nattention; and a full range is given to the fancy in the invisible\nregions, or world of Spirits, where the soul is at liberty to indulge\nitself in every imagination, which may best suit its present taste and\ndisposition. Hence arise raptures, transports, and surprising flights of\nfancy; and, confidence and presumption still increasing, these raptures,\nbeing altogether unaccountable, and seeming quite beyond the reach of\nour ordinary faculties, are attributed to the immediate inspiration of\nthat Divine Being who is the object of devotion. In a little time, the\ninspired person comes to regard himself as a distinguished favourite of\nthe Divinity; and when this phrensy once takes place, which is the\nsummit of enthusiasm, every whimsey is consecrated: human reason, and\neven morality, are rejected as fallacious guides, and the fanatic madman\ndelivers himself over, blindly and without reserve, to the supposed\nillapses of the Spirit, and to inspiration from above. Hope, pride,\npresumption, a warm imagination, together with ignorance, are therefore\nthe true sources of Enthusiasm.\n\nThese two species of false religion might afford occasion to many\nspeculations, but I shall confine myself, at present, to a few\nreflections concerning their different influence on government and\nsociety.\n\nMy _first_ reflection is, _that superstition is favourable to priestly\npower, and enthusiasm not less, or rather more contrary to it, than\nsound reason and philosophy._ As superstition is founded on fear,\nsorrow, and a depression of spirits, it represents the man to himself in\nsuch despicable colours, that he appears unworthy, in his own eyes, of\napproaching the Divine presence, and naturally has recourse to any other\nperson, whose sanctity of life, or perhaps impudence and cunning, have\nmade him be supposed more favoured by the Divinity. To him the\nsuperstitious intrust their devotions to his care they recommend their\nprayers, petitions, and sacrifices: and by his means, they hope to\nrender their addresses acceptable to their incensed Deity. Hence the\norigin of Priests, who may justly be regarded as an invention of a\ntimorous and abject superstition, which, ever diffident of itself, dares\nnot offer up its own devotions, but ignorantly thinks to recommend\nitself to the Divinity, by the mediation of his supposed friends and\nservants. As superstition is a considerable ingredient in almost all\nreligions, even the most fanatical; there being nothing but philosophy\nable entirely to conquer these unaccountable terrors; hence it proceeds,\nthat in almost every sect of religion there are priests to be found: but\nthe stronger mixture there is of superstition, the higher is the\nauthority of the priesthood.\n\nOn the other hand, it may be observed, that all enthusiasts have been\nfree from the yoke of ecclesiastics, and have expressed great\nindependence in their devotion, with a contempt of forms, ceremonies,\nand traditions. The _Quakers_ are the most egregious, though, at the\nsame time, the most innocent enthusiasts that have yet been known; and\nare perhaps the only sect that have never admitted priests among them.\nThe _Independents_, of all the English sectaries, approach nearest to\nthe _Quakers_ in fanaticism, and in their freedom from priestly bondage.\nThe _Presbyterians_ follow after, at an equal distance, in both\nparticulars. In short, this observation is founded in experience; and\nwill also appear to be founded in reason, if we consider, that, as\nenthusiasm arises from a presumptuous pride and confidence, it thinks\nitself sufficiently qualified to _approach_ the Divinity, without any\nhuman mediator. Its rapturous devotions are so fervent, that it even\nimagines itself _actually_ to _approach_ him by the way of contemplation\nand inward converse; which makes it neglect all those outward ceremonies\nand observances, to which the assistance of the priests appears so\nrequisite in the eyes of their superstitious votaries. The fanatic\nconsecrates himself, and bestows on his own person a sacred character,\nmuch superior to what forms and ceremonious institutions can confer on\nany other.\n\nMy _second_ reflection with regard to these species of false religion\nis, _that religions which partake of enthusiasm, are, on their first\nrise, more furious and violent than those which partake of superstition;\nbut in a little time become more gentle and moderate._ The violence of\nthis species of religion, when excited by novelty, and animated by\nopposition, appears from numberless instances; of the _Anabaptists_ in\nGermany, the _Camisars_ in France, the _Levellers_, and other fanatics\nin England, and the _Covenanters_ in Scotland. Enthusiasm being founded\non strong spirits, and a presumptuous boldness of character, it\nnaturally begets the most extreme resolutions; especially after it rises\nto that height as to inspire the deluded fanatic with the opinion of\nDivine illuminations, and with a contempt for the common rules of\nreason, morality, and prudence.\n\nIt is thus enthusiasm produces the most cruel disorders in human\nsociety; but its fury is like that of thunder and tempest, which exhaust\nthemselves in a little time, and leave the air more calm and serene than\nbefore. When the first fire of enthusiasm is spent, men naturally, in\nall fanatical sects, sink into the greatest remissness and coolness in\nsacred matters; there being no body of men among them endowed with\nsufficient authority, whose interest is concerned to support the\nreligious spirit; no rites, no ceremonies, no holy observances, which\nmay enter into the common train of life, and preserve the sacred\nprinciples from oblivion. Superstition, on the contrary, steals in\ngradually and insensibly; renders men tame and submissive; is acceptable\nto the magistrate, and seems inoffensive to the people: till at last the\npriest, having firmly established his authority, becomes the tyrant and\ndisturber of human society, by his endless contentions, persecutions,\nand religious wars. How smoothly did the Romish church advance in her\nacquisition of power! But into what dismal convulsions did she throw all\nEurope, in order to maintain it! On the other hand, our sectaries, who\nwere formerly such dangerous bigots, are now become very free reasoners;\nand the _Quakers_ seem to approach nearly the only regular body of\n_Deists_ in the universe, the _literati_ or the disciples of Confucius\nin China.[1]\n\nMy _third_ observation on this head is, _that superstition is an enemy\nto civil liberty, and enthusiasm a friend to it._ As superstition groans\nunder the dominion of priests, and enthusiasm is destructive of all\necclesiastical power, this sufficiently accounts for the present\nobservation. Not to mention that enthusiasm, being the infirmity of bold\nand ambitious tempers, is naturally accompanied with a spirit of\nliberty, as superstition, on the contrary, renders men tame and abject,\nand fits them for slavery. We learn from English history, that, during\nthe civil wars, the _Independents_ and _Deists_, though the most\nopposite in their religious principles, yet were united in their\npolitical ones, and were alike passionate for a commonwealth. And since\nthe origin of _Whig_ and _Tory_, the leaders of the _Whigs_ have either\nbeen _Deists_ or professed _Latitudinarian_s in their principles; that\nis, friends to toleration, and indifferent to any particular sect of\n_Christians_: while the sectaries, who have all a strong tincture of\nenthusiasm, have always, without exception, concurred with that party in\ndefence of civil liberty. The resemblance in their superstitions long\nunited the High-Church _Tories_ and the _Roman Catholics_, in support of\nprerogative and kingly power, though experience of the tolerating spirit\nof the _Whigs_ seems of late to have reconciled the _Catholics_ to that\nparty.\n\nThe _Molinists_ and _Jansenists_ in France have a thousand\nunintelligible disputes, which are not worthy the reflection of a man of\nsense: but what principally distinguishes these two sects, and alone\nmerits attention, is the different spirit of their religion. The\n_Molinists_, conducted by the _Jesuits_, are great friends to\nsuperstition, rigid observers of external forms and ceremonies, and\ndevoted to the authority of the priests, and to tradition. The\n_Jansenists_ are enthusiasts, and zealous promoters of the passionate\ndevotion, and of the inward life, little influenced by authority, and,\nin a word, but half Catholics. The consequences are exactly conformable\nto the foregoing reasoning. The _Jesuits_ are the tyrants of the people,\nand the slaves of the court; and the _Jansenists_ preserve alive the\nsmall sparks of the love of liberty which are to be found in the French\nnation.\n\n\n[1] The Chinese literati have no priests or ecclesiastical\nestablishment.\n\n\n\n\nOF THE DIGNITY OR MEANNESS OF HUMAN NATURE\n\n\nThere are certain sects which secretly form themselves in the learned\nworld, as well as factions in the political; and though sometimes they\ncome not to an open rupture, they give a different turn to the ways of\nthinking of those who have taken part on either side. The most\nremarkable of this kind are the sects founded on the different\nsentiments with regard to the _dignity of human nature_; which is a\npoint that seems to have divided philosophers and poets, as well as\ndivines, from the beginning of the world to this day. Some exalt our\nspecies to the skies, and represent man as a kind of human demigod, who\nderives his origin from heaven, and retains evident marks of his lineage\nand descent. Others insist upon the blind sides of human nature, and can\ndiscover nothing, except vanity, in which man surpasses the other\nanimals, whom he affects so much to despise. If an author possess the\ntalent of rhetoric and declamation, he commonly takes part with the\nformer: if his turn lie towards irony and ridicule, he naturally throws\nhimself into the other extreme.\n\nI am far from thinking that all those who have depreciated our species\nhave been enemies to virtue, and have exposed the frailties of their\nfellow-creatures with any bad intention. On the contrary, I am sensible\nthat a delicate sense of morals, especially when attended with a\nsplenetic temper, is apt to give a man a disgust of the world, and to\nmake him consider the common course of human affairs with too much\nindignation. I must, however, be of opinion, that the sentiments of\nthose who are inclined to think favourably of mankind, are more\nadvantageous to virtue than the contrary principles, which give us a\nmean opinion of our nature. When a man is prepossessed with a high\nnotion of his rank and character in the creation, he will naturally\nendeavour to act up to it, and will scorn to do a base or vicious action\nwhich might sink him below that figure which he makes in his own\nimagination. Accordingly, we find, that all our polite and fashionable\nmoralists insist upon this topic, and endeavour to represent vice\nunworthy of man, as well as odious in itself.[1]\n\nWe find new disputes that are not founded on some ambiguity in the\nexpression; and I am persuaded that the present dispute, concerning the\ndignity or meanness of human nature, is not more exempt from it than any\nother. It may therefore be worth while to consider what is real, and\nwhat is only verbal, in this controversy.\n\nThat there is a natural difference between merit and demerit, virtue and\nvice, wisdom and folly, no reasonable man will deny, yet it is evident\nthat, in affixing the term, which denotes either our approbation or\nblame, we are commonly more influenced by comparison than by any fixed\nunalterable standard in the nature of things. In like manner, quantity,\nand extension, and bulk, are by every one acknowledged to be real\nthings: but when we call any animal _great_ or _little_, we always form\na secret comparison between that animal and others of the same species;\nand it is that comparison which regulates our judgment concerning its\ngreatness. A dog and a horse may be of the very same size, while the one\nis admired for the greatness of its bulk, and the other for the\nsmallness. When I am present, therefore, at any dispute, I always\nconsider with myself whether it be a question of comparison or not that\nis the subject of controversy; and if it be, whether the disputants\ncompare the same objects together, or talk of things that are widely\ndifferent.\n\nIn forming our notions of human nature, we are apt to make a comparison\nbetween men and animals, the only creatures endowed with thought that\nfall under our senses. Certainly this comparison is favourable to\nmankind. On the one hand, we see a creature whose thoughts are not\nlimited by any narrow bounds, either of place or time; who carries his\nresearches into the most distant regions of this globe, and beyond this\nglobe, to the planets and heavenly bodies; looks backward to consider\nthe first origin, at least the history of the human race; casts his eye\nforward to see the influence of his actions upon posterity and the\njudgments which will be formed of his character a thousand years hence;\na creature, who traces causes and effects to a great length and\nintricacy, extracts general principles from particular appearances;\nimproves upon his discoveries; corrects his mistakes; and makes his very\nerrors profitable. On the other hand, we are presented with a creature\nthe very reverse of this; limited in its observations and reasonings to\na few sensible objects which surround it; without curiosity, without\nforesight; blindly conducted by instinct, and attaining, in a short\ntime, its utmost perfection, beyond which it is never able to advance a\nsingle step. What a wide difference is there between these creatures!\nAnd how exalted a notion must we entertain of the former, in comparison\nof the latter.\n\nThere are two means commonly employed to destroy this conclusion:\n_First_, By making an unfair representation of the case, and insisting\nonly upon the weakness of human nature. And, _secondly_, By forming a\nnew and secret comparison between man and beings of the most perfect\nwisdom. Among the other excellences of man, this is one, that he can\nform an idea of perfections much beyond what he has experience of in\nhimself; and is not limited in his conception of wisdom and virtue. He\ncan easily exalt his notions, and conceive a degree of knowledge, which,\nwhen compared to his own, will make the latter appear very contemptible,\nand will cause the difference between that and the sagacity of animals,\nin a manner, to disappear and vanish. Now this being a point in which\nall the world is agreed, that human understanding falls infinitely short\nof perfect wisdom, it is proper we should know when this comparison\ntakes place, that we may not dispute where there is no real difference\nin our sentiments. Man falls much more short of perfect wisdom, and even\nof his own ideas of perfect wisdom, than animals do of man; yet the\nlatter difference is so considerable, that nothing but a comparison with\nthe former can make it appear of little moment.\n\nIt is also usual to _compare_ one man with another; and finding very few\nwhom we can call _wise_ or _virtuous_, we are apt to entertain a\ncontemptible notion of our species in general. That we may be sensible\nof the fallacy of this way of reasoning, we may observe, that the\nhonourable appellations of wise and virtuous are not annexed to any\nparticular degree of those qualities of _wisdom_ and _virtue_, but arise\naltogether from the comparison we make between one man and another. When\nwe find a man who arrives at such a pitch of wisdom, as is very\nuncommon, we pronounce him a wise man: so that to say there are few wise\nmen in the world, is really to say nothing; since it is only by their\nscarcity that they merit that appellation. Were the lowest of our\nspecies as wise as Tully or Lord Bacon, we should still have reason to\nsay that there are few wise men. For in that case we should exalt our\nnotions of wisdom, and should not pay a singular homage to any one who\nwas not singularly distinguished by his talents. In like manner, I have\nheard it observed by thoughtless people, that there are few women\npossessed of beauty in comparison of those who want it; not considering\nthat we bestow the epithet of _beautiful_ only on such as possess a\ndegree of beauty that is common to them with a few. The same degree of\nbeauty in a woman is called deformity, which is treated as real beauty\nin one of our sex.\n\nAs it is usual, in forming a notion of our species, to _compare_ it with\nthe other species above or below it, or to compare the individuals of\nthe species among themselves; so we often compare together the different\nmotives or actuating principles of human nature, in order to regulate\nour judgment concerning it. And, indeed, this is the only kind of\ncomparison which is worth our attention, or decides any thing in the\npresent question. Were our selfish and vicious principles so much\npredominant above our social and virtuous, as is asserted by some\nphilosophers, we ought undoubtedly to entertain a contemptible notion of\nhuman nature.[2]\n\nThere is much of a dispute of words in all this controversy. When a man\ndenies the sincerity of all public spirit or affection to a country and\ncommunity, I am at a loss what to think of him. Perhaps he never felt\nthis passion in so clear and distinct a manner as to remove all his\ndoubts concerning its force and reality. But when he proceeds afterwards\nto reject all private friendship, if no interest or self-love intermix\nitself; I am then confident that he abuses terms, and confounds the\nideas of things; since it is impossible for any one to be so selfish, or\nrather so stupid, as to make no difference between one man and another,\nand give no preference to qualities which engage his approbation and\nesteem. Is he also, say I, as insensible to anger as he pretends to be\nto friendship? And does injury and wrong no more affect him than\nkindness or benefits? Impossible: he does not know himself: he has\nforgotten the movements of his heart; or rather, he makes use of a\ndifferent language from the rest of his countrymen and calls not things\nby their proper names. What say you of natural affection? (I subjoin),\nIs that also a species of self-love? Yes; all is self-love. _Your_\nchildren are loved only because they are yours: _your_ friend for a like\nreason; and _your_ country engages you only so far as it has a\nconnection with _yourself_. Were the idea of self removed, nothing\nwould affect you: you would be altogether unactive and insensible: or,\nif you ever give yourself any movement, it would only be from vanity,\nand a desire of fame and reputation to this same self. I am willing,\nreply I, to receive your interpretation of human actions, provided you\nadmit the facts. That species of self-love which displays itself in\nkindness to others, you must allow to have great influence over human\nactions, and even greater, on many occasions, than that which remains in\nits original shape and form. For how few are there, having a family,\nchildren, and relations, who do not spend more on the maintenance and\neducation of these than on their own pleasures? This, indeed, you justly\nobserve, may proceed from their self-love, since the prosperity of their\nfamily and friends is one, or the chief of their pleasures, as well as\ntheir chief honour. Be you also one of these selfish men, and you are\nsure of every one's good opinion and good-will; or, not to shock your\nears with their expressions, the self-love of every one, and mine among\nthe rest, will then incline us to serve you, and speak well of you.\n\nIn my opinion, there are two things which have led astray those\nphilosophers that have insisted so much on the selfishness of man. In\nthe _first_ place, they found that every act of virtue or friendship was\nattended with a secret pleasure; whence they concluded, that friendship\nand virtue could not be disinterested. But the fallacy of this is\nobvious. The virtuous sentiment or passion produces the pleasure, and\ndoes not arise from it. I feel a pleasure in doing good to my friend,\nbecause I love him; but do not love him for the sake of that pleasure.\n\nIn the _second_ place, it has always been found, that the virtuous are\nfar from being indifferent to praise; and therefore they have been\nrepresented as a set of vainglorious men, who had nothing in view but\nthe applauses of others. But this also is a fallacy. It is very unjust\nin the world, when they find any tincture of vanity in a laudable\naction, to depreciate it upon that account, or ascribe it entirely to\nthat motive. The case is not the same with vanity, as with other\npassions. Where avarice or revenge enters into any seemingly virtuous\naction, it is difficult for us to determine how far it enters, and it is\nnatural to suppose it the sole actuating principle. But vanity is so\nclosely allied to virtue, and to love the fame of laudable actions\napproaches so near the love of laudable actions for their own sake, that\nthese passions are more capable of mixture, than any other kinds of\naffection; and it is almost impossible to have the latter without some\ndegree of the former. Accordingly we find, that this passion for glory\nis always warped and varied according to the particular taste or\ndisposition of the mind on which it falls. Nero had the same vanity in\ndriving a chariot, that Trajan had in governing the empire with justice\nand ability. To love the glory of virtuous deeds is a sure proof of the\nlove of virtue.\n\n\n[1] Women are generally much more flattered in their youth than men,\nwhich may proceed from this reason among others, that their chief point\nof honour is considered as much more difficult than ours, and requires\nto be supported by all that decent pride which can be instilled into\nthem.\n\n[2] I may perhaps treat more fully of this subject in some future Essay.\nIn the meantime I shall observe, what has been proved beyond question by\nseveral great moralists of the present age, that the social passions are\nby far the most powerful of any, and that even all the other passions,\nreceive from them their chief force and influence. Whoever desires to\nsee this question treated at large, with the greatest force of argument\nand eloquence, may consult my Lord Shaftesbury's Enquiry concerning\nVirtue.\n\n\n\n\nOF CIVIL LIBERTY\n\n\nThose who employ their pens on political subjects, free from party rage,\nand party prejudices, cultivate a science, which, of all others,\ncontributes most to public utility, and even to the private satisfaction\nof those who addict themselves to the study of it. I am apt, however, to\nentertain a suspicion, that the world is still too young to fix many\ngeneral truths in politics, which will remain true to the latest\nposterity. We have not as yet had experience of three thousand years; so\nthat not only the art of reasoning is still imperfect in this science,\nas in all others, but we even want sufficient materials upon which we\ncan reason. It is not fully known what degree of refinement, either in\nvirtue or vice, human nature is susceptible of, nor what may be expected\nof mankind from any great revolution in their education, customs, or\nprinciples. Machiavel was certainly a great genius; but, having confined\nhis study to the furious and tyrannical governments of ancient times, or\nto the little disorderly principalities of Italy, his reasonings,\nespecially upon monarchical government, have been found extremely\ndefective; and there scarcely is any maxim in his _Prince_ which\nsubsequent experience has not entirely refuted. 'A weak prince,' says\nhe, 'is incapable of receiving good counsel; for, if he consult with\nseveral, he will not be able to choose among their different counsels.\nIf he abandon himself to one, that minister may perhaps have capacity,\nbut he will not long be a minister. He will be sure to dispossess his\nmaster, and place himself and his family upon the throne.' I mention\nthis, among many instances of the errors of that politician, proceeding,\nin a great measure, from his having lived in too early an age of the\nworld, to be a good judge of political truth. Almost all the princes of\nEurope are at present governed by their ministers, and have been so for\nnear two centuries, and yet no such event has ever happened, or can\npossibly happen. Sejanus might project dethroning the C\u00e6sars, but\nFleury, though ever so vicious, could not, while in his senses,\nentertain the least hopes of dispossessing the Bourbons.\n\nTrade was never esteemed an affair of state till the last century; and\nthere scarcely is any ancient writer on politics who has made mention of\nit. Even the Italians have kept a profound silence with regard to it,\nthough it has now engaged the chief attention, as well of ministers of\nstate, as of speculative reasoners. The great opulence, grandeur, and\nmilitary achievements of the two maritime powers, seem first to have\ninstructed mankind in the importance of an extensive commerce.\n\nHaving therefore intended, in this Essay, to make a full comparison of\ncivil liberty and absolute government, and to show the great advantages\nof the former above the latter; I began to entertain a suspicion that no\nman in this age was sufficiently qualified for such an undertaking, and\nthat, whatever any one should advance on that head, would in all\nprobability be refuted by further experience, and be rejected by\nposterity. Such mighty revolutions have happened in human affairs, and\nso many events have arisen contrary to the expectation of the ancients,\nthat they are sufficient to beget the suspicion of still further\nchanges.\n\nIt had been observed by the ancients, that all the arts and sciences\narose among free nations; and that the Persians and Egyptians,\nnotwithstanding their ease, opulence, and luxury, made but faint efforts\ntowards a relish in those finer pleasures, which were carried to such\nperfection by the Greeks, amidst continual wars, attended with poverty,\nand the greatest simplicity of life and manners. It had also been\nobserved, that, when the Greeks lost their liberty, though they\nincreased mightily in riches by means of the conquests of Alexander, yet\nthe arts, from that moment, declined among them, and have never since\nbeen able to raise their head in that climate. Learning was transplanted\nto Rome, the only free nation at that time in the universe; and having\nmet with so favourable a soil, it made prodigious shoots for above a\ncentury; till the decay of liberty produced also the decay of letters,\nand spread a total barbarism over the world. From these two\nexperiments, of which, each was double in its kind, and showed the fall\nof learning in absolute governments, as well as its rise in popular\nones, Longinus thought himself sufficiently justified in asserting that\nthe arts and sciences could never flourish but in a free government. And\nin this opinion he has been followed by several eminent writers[1] in\nour own country, who either confined their view merely to ancient facts,\nor entertained too great a partiality in favour of that form of\ngovernment established among us.\n\nBut what would these writers have said to the instances of modern Rome\nand Florence? Of which the former carried to perfection all the finer\narts of sculpture, painting, and music, as well as poetry, though it\ngroaned under tyranny, and under the tyranny of priests, while the\nlatter made its chief progress in the arts and sciences after it began\nto lose its liberty by the usurpation of the family of Medici. Ariosto,\nTasso, Galileo, no more than Raphael or Michael Angelo, were born in\nrepublics. And though the Lombard school was famous as well as the\nRoman, yet the Venetians have had the smallest share in its honours, and\nseem rather inferior to the other Italians in their genius for the arts\nand sciences. Rubens established his school at Antwerp, not at\nAmsterdam. Dresden, not Hamburg, is the centre of politeness in Germany.\n\nBut the most eminent instance of the flourishing of learning in absolute\ngovernments is that of France, which scarcely ever enjoyed any\nestablished liberty, and yet has carried the arts and sciences as near\nperfection as any other nation. The English are, perhaps, greater\nphilosophers; the Italians better painters and musicians; the Romans\nwere greater orators; but the French are the only people, except the\nGreeks, who have been at once philosophers, poets, orators, historians,\npainters, architects, sculptors, and musicians. With regard to the\nstage, they have excelled even the Greeks, who far excelled the English.\nAnd, in common life, they have, in a great measure, perfected that art,\nthe most useful and agreeable of any, _l'Art de Vivre_, the art of\nsociety and conversation.\n\nIf we consider the state of the sciences and polite arts in our own\ncountry, Horace's observation, with regard to the Romans, may in a great\nmeasure be applied to the British.\n\n          Sed in longum tamen \u00e6vum\n     Manserunt, hodieque manent _vestigia ruris_.\n\nThe elegance and propriety of style have been very much neglected among\nus. We have no dictionary of our language, and scarcely a tolerable\ngrammar. The first polite prose we have was writ by a man who is still\nalive.[2] As to Sprat, Locke, and even Temple, they knew too little of\nthe rules of art to be esteemed elegant writers. The prose of Bacon,\nHarrington, and Milton, is altogether stiff and pedantic, though their\nsense be excellent. Men, in this country, have been so much occupied in\nthe great disputes of _Religion_, _Politics_, and _Philosophy_, that\nthey had no relish for the seemingly minute observations of grammar and\ncriticism. And, though this turn of thinking must have considerably\nimproved our sense and our talent of reasoning, it must be confessed,\nthat even in those sciences above mentioned, we have not any standard\nbook which we can transmit to posterity: and the utmost we have to boast\nof, are a few essays towards a more just philosophy, which indeed\npromise well, but have not as yet reached any degree of perfection.\n\nIt has become an established opinion, that commerce can never flourish\nbut in a free government; and this opinion seems to be founded on a\nlonger and larger experience than the foregoing, with regard to the arts\nand sciences. If we trace commerce in its progress through Tyre, Athens,\nSyracuse, Carthage, Venice, Florence, Genoa, Antwerp, Holland, England,\n&c, we shall always find it to have fixed its seat in free governments.\nThe three greatest trading towns now in Europe, are London, Amsterdam,\nand Hamburg; all free cities, and Protestant cities; that is, enjoying a\ndouble liberty. It must, however, be observed, that the great jealousy\nentertained of late with regard to the commerce of France, seems to\nprove that this maxim is no more certain and infallible than the\nforegoing, and that the subjects of an absolute prince may become our\nrivals in commerce as well as in learning.\n\nDurst I deliver my opinion in an affair of so much uncertainty, I would\nassert, that notwithstanding the efforts of the French, there is\nsomething hurtful to commerce inherent in the very nature of absolute\ngovernment, and inseparable from it; though the reason I should assign\nfor this opinion is somewhat different from that which is commonly\ninsisted on. Private property seems to me almost as secure in a\ncivilized European monarchy as in a republic, nor is danger much\napprehended, in such a government, from the violence of the sovereign,\nmore than we commonly dread harm from thunder, or earthquakes, or any\naccident the most unusual and extraordinary. Avarice, the spur of\nindustry, is so obstinate a passion, and works its way through so many\nreal dangers and difficulties, that it is not likely to be scared by an\nimaginary danger, which is so small, that it scarcely admits of\ncalculation. Commerce, therefore, in my opinion, is apt to decay in\nabsolute governments, not because it is there less secure, but because\nit is less _honourable_. A subordination of rank is absolutely necessary\nto the support of monarchy. Birth, titles, and place, must be honoured\nabove industry and riches; and while these notions prevail, all the\nconsiderable traders will be tempted to throw up their commerce, in\norder to purchase some of those employments, to which privileges and\nhonours are annexed.\n\nSince I am upon this head, of the alterations which time has produced,\nor may produce in politics, I must observe, that all kinds of\ngovernment, free and absolute, seem to have undergone in modern times, a\ngreat change for the better, with regard both to foreign and domestic\nmanagement. The _balance_ of power is a secret in politics, fully known\nonly to the present age; and I must add, that the internal police of\nstates has also received great improvements within the last century. We\nare informed by Sallust, that Catiline's army was much augmented by the\naccession of the highwaymen about Rome; though I believe, that all of\nthat profession who are at present dispersed over Europe would not\namount to a regiment. In Cicero's pleadings for Milo, I find this\nargument, among others, made use of to prove that his client had not\nassassinated Clodius. Had Milo, said he, intended to have killed\nClodius, he had not attacked him in the daytime, and at such a distance\nfrom the city; he had waylaid him at night, near the suburbs, where it\nmight have been pretended that he was killed by robbers; and the\nfrequency of the accident would have favoured the deceit. This is a\nsurprising proof of the loose policy of Rome, and of the number and\nforce of these robbers, since Clodius was at that time attended by\nthirty slaves, who were completely armed, and sufficiently accustomed to\nblood and danger in the frequent tumults excited by that seditious\ntribune.\n\nBut though all kinds of government be improved in modern times, yet\nmonarchical government seems to have made the greatest advances towards\nperfection. It may now be affirmed of civilized monarchies, what was\nformerly said in praise of republics alone, _that they are a government\nof Laws, not of Men._ They are found susceptible of order, method, and\nconstancy, to a surprising degree. Property is there secure, industry\nencouraged, the arts flourish, and the prince lives secure among his\nsubjects, like a father among his children. There are, perhaps, and have\nbeen for two centuries, near two hundred absolute princes, great and\nsmall, in Europe; and allowing twenty years to each reign, we may\nsuppose, that there have been in the whole two thousand monarchs, or\ntyrants, as the Greeks would have called them; yet of these there has\nnot been one, not even Philip II of Spain, so bad as Tiberius, Caligula,\nNero, or Domitian, who were four in twelve among the Roman emperors. It\nmust, however, be confessed, that though monarchical governments have\napproached nearer to popular ones in gentleness and stability, they are\nstill inferior. Our modern education and customs instil more humanity\nand moderation than the ancient; but have not as yet been able to\novercome entirely the disadvantages of that form of government.\n\nBut here I must beg leave to advance a conjecture, which seems probable,\nbut which posterity alone can fully judge of. I am apt to think, that in\nmonarchical governments there is a source of improvement, and in popular\ngovernments a source of degeneracy, which in time will bring these\nspecies of civil polity still nearer an equality. The greatest abuses\nwhich arise in France, the most perfect model of pure monarchy, proceed\nnot from the number or weight of the taxes, beyond what are to be met\nwith in free countries; but from the expensive, unequal, arbitrary, and\nintricate method of levying them, by which the industry of the poor,\nespecially of the peasants and farmers, is in a great measure\ndiscouraged, and agriculture rendered a beggarly and slavish employment.\nBut to whose advantage do these abuses tend? If to that of the nobility,\nthey might be esteemed inherent in that form of government, since the\nnobility are the true supports of monarchy; and it is natural their\ninterest should be more consulted in such a constitution, than that of\nthe people. But the nobility are, in reality, the chief losers by this\noppression, since it ruins their estates, and beggars their tenants. The\nonly gainers by it are the _Financiers_, a race of men rather odious to\nthe nobility and the whole kingdom. If a prince or minister, therefore,\nshould arise, endowed with sufficient discernment to know his own and\nthe public interest, and with sufficient force of mind to break through\nancient customs, we might expect to see these abuses remedied; in which\ncase, the difference between that absolute government and our free one\nwould not appear so considerable as at present.\n\nThe source of degeneracy which may be remarked in free governments,\nconsists in the practice of contracting debt, and mortgaging the public\nrevenues, by which taxes may, in time, become altogether intolerable,\nand all the property of the state be brought into the hands of the\npublic The practice is of modern date. The Athenians, though governed by\na republic, paid near two hundred per cent. for those sums of money\nwhich any emergency made it necessary for them to borrow; as we learn\nfrom Xenophon. Among the moderns, the Dutch first introduced the\npractice of borrowing great sums at low interest, and have wellnigh\nruined themselves by it. Absolute princes have also contracted debt; but\nas an absolute prince may make a bankruptcy when he pleases, his people\ncan never be oppressed by his debts. In popular governments, the people,\nand chiefly those who have the highest offices, being commonly the\npublic creditors, it is difficult for the state to make use of thiss\nremedy, which, however it may sometimes be necessary, is always cruel\nand barbarous. This, therefore, seems to be an inconvenience which\nnearly threatens all free governments, especially our own, at the\npresent juncture of affairs. And what a strong motive is this to\nincrease our frugality of public money, lest, for want of it, we be\nreduced, by the multiplicity of taxes, or, what is worse, by our public\nimpotence and inability for defence, to curse our very liberty, and wish\nourselves in the same state of servitude with all the nations who\nsurround us?\n\n\n[1] Mr. Addison and Lord Shaftesbury.\n\n[2] Dr. Swift.\n\n\n\n\nOF ELOQUENCE\n\n\nThose who consider the periods and revolutions of human kind, as\nrepresented in history, are entertained with a spectacle full of\npleasure and variety, and see with surprise the manners, customs, and\nopinions of the same species susceptible of such prodigious changes in\ndifferent periods of time. It may, however, be observed, that, in\n_civil_ history, there is found a much greater uniformity than in the\nhistory of learning and science, and that the wars, negotiations, and\npolitics of one age, resemble more those of another than the taste, wit,\nand speculative principles. Interest and ambition, honour and shame,\nfriendship and enmity, gratitude and revenge, are the prime movers in\nall public transactions; and these passions are of a very stubborn and\nuntractable nature, in comparison of the sentiments and understanding,\nwhich are easily varied by education and example. The Goths were much\nmore inferior to the Romans in taste and science than in courage and\nvirtue.\n\nBut not to compare together nations so widely different, it may be\nobserved, that even this latter period of human learning is, in many\nrespects, of an opposite character to the ancient; and that, if we be\nsuperior in philosophy, we are still, notwithstanding all our\nrefinements, much inferior in eloquence.\n\nIn ancient times, no work of genius was thought to require so great\nparts and capacity as the speaking in public; and some eminent writers\nhave pronounced the talents even of a great poet or philosopher to be of\nan inferior nature to those which are requisite for such an undertaking.\nGreece and Rome produced, each of them, but one accomplished orator;\nand, whatever praises the other celebrated speakers might merit, they\nwere still esteemed much inferior to those great models of eloquence. It\nis observable, that the ancient critics could scarcely find two orators\nin any age who deserved to be placed precisely in the same rank, and\npossessed the same degree of merit. Calvus, C\u00e6lius, Curio, Hortensius,\nC\u00e6sar, rose one above another: but the greatest of that age was inferior\nto Cicero, the most eloquent speaker that had ever appeared in Rome.\nThose of fine taste, however, pronounced this judgment of the Roman\norator, as well as of the Grecian, that both of them surpassed in\neloquence all that had ever appeared, but that they were far from\nreaching the perfection of their art, which was infinite, and not only\nexceeded human force to attain, but human imagination to conceive.\nCicero declares himself dissatisfied with his own performances, nay,\neven with those of Demosthenes. _Ita sunt avid\u00e6 et capaces me\u00e6 aures,_\nsays he, _et semper aliquid immensum infinitumque desiderant._\n\nOf all the polite and learned nations, England alone possesses a popular\ngovernment, or admits into the legislature such numerous assemblies as\ncan be supposed to lie under the dominion of eloquence. But what has\nEngland to boast of in this particular? In enumerating the great men who\nhave done honour to our country, we exult in our poets and philosophers;\nbut what orators are ever mentioned? or where are the monuments of their\ngenius to be met with? There are found, indeed, in our histories, the\nnames of several, who directed the resolutions of our parliament: but\nneither themselves nor others have taken the pains to preserve their\nspeeches, and the authority, which they possessed, seems to have been\nowing to their experience, wisdom, or power, more than to their talents\nfor oratory. At present there are above half a dozen speakers in the two\nHouses, who, in the judgment of the public, have reached very near the\nsame pitch of eloquence; and no man pretends to give any one the\npreference above the rest. This seems to me a certain proof, that none\nof them have attained much beyond a mediocrity in their art, and that\nthe species of eloquence, which they aspire to, gives no exercise to the\nsublimer faculties of the mind, but may be reached by ordinary talents\nand a slight application. A hundred cabinet-makers in London can work a\ntable or a chair equally well; but no one poet can write verses with\nsuch spirit and elegance as Mr. Pope.\n\nWe are told, that, when Demosthenes was to plead, all ingenious men\nflocked to Athens from the most remote parts of Greece, as to the most\ncelebrated spectacle of the world. At London, you may see men sauntering\nin the court of requests, while the most important debate is carrying on\nin the two Houses; and many do not think themselves sufficiently\ncompensated for the losing of their dinners, by all the eloquence of our\nmost celebrated speakers. When old Cibber is to act, the curiosity of\nseveral is more excited, than when our prime minister is to defend\nhimself from a motion for his removal or impeachment.\n\nEven a person, unacquainted with the noble remains of ancient orators,\nmay judge, from a few strokes, that the style or species of their\neloquence was infinitely more sublime than that which modern orators\naspire to. How absurd would it appear, in our temperate and calm\nspeakers, to make use of an _Apostrophe_, like that noble one of\nDemosthenes, so much celebrated by Quintilian and Longinus, when,\njustifying the unsuccessful battle of Ch\u00e6ronea, he breaks out, 'No, my\nfellow-citizens. No: you have not erred. I swear by the _manes_ of those\nheroes, who fought for the same cause in the plains of Marathon and\nPlat\u00e6a.' Who could now endure such a bold and poetical figure as that\nwhich Cicero employs, after describing, in the most tragical terms, the\ncrucifixion of a Roman citizen? 'Should I paint the horrors of this\nscene, not to Roman citizens, not to the allies of our state, not to\nthose who have ever heard of the Roman name, not even to men, but to\nbrute creatures; or, to go further, should I lift up my voice in the\nmost desolate solitude, to the rocks and mountains, yet should I surely\nsee those rude and inanimate parts of nature moved with horror and\nindignation at the recital of so enormous an action.' With what a blaze\nof eloquence must such a sentence be surrounded to give it grace, or\ncause it to make any impression on the hearers! And what noble art and\nsublime talents are requisite to arrive, by just degrees, at a sentiment\nso bold and excessive! To inflame the audience, so as to make them\naccompany the speaker in such violent passions, and such elevated\nconceptions; and to conceal, under a torrent of eloquence, the artifice\nby which all this is effectuated! Should this sentiment even appear to\nus excessive, as perhaps justly it may, it will at least serve to give\nan idea of the style of ancient eloquence, where such swelling\nexpressions were not rejected as wholly monstrous and gigantic.\n\nSuitable to this vehemence of thought and expression, was the vehemence\nof action, observed in the ancient orators. The _supplosio pedis_, or\nstamping with the foot, was one of the most usual and moderate gestures\nwhich they made use of; though that is now esteemed too violent, either\nfor the senate, bar, or pulpit, and is only admitted into the theatre\nto accompany the most violent passions which are there represented.\n\nOne is somewhat at a loss to what cause we may ascribe so sensible a\ndecline of eloquence in latter ages. The genius of mankind, at all\ntimes, is perhaps equal: the moderns have applied themselves, with great\nindustry and success, to all the other arts and sciences: and a learned\nnation possesses a popular government; a circumstance which seems\nrequisite for the full display of these noble talents: but\nnotwithstanding all these advantages, our progress in eloquence is very\ninconsiderable, in comparison of the advances which we have made in all\nother parts of learning.\n\nShall we assert, that the strains of ancient eloquence are unsuitable to\nour age, and ought not to be imitated by modern orators? Whatever\nreasons may be made use of to prove this, I am persuaded they will be\nfound, upon examination, to be unsound and unsatisfactory.\n\n_First_, It may be said, that, in ancient times, during the flourishing\nperiod of Greek and Roman learning, the municipal laws, in every state,\nwere but few and simple, and the decision of causes was, in a great\nmeasure, left to the equity and common sense of the judges. The study of\nthe laws was not then a laborious occupation, requiring the drudgery of\na whole life to finish it, and incompatible with every other study or\nprofession. The great statesmen and generals among the Romans were all\nlawyers; and Cicero, to show the facility of acquiring this science,\ndeclares, that in the midst of all his occupations, he would undertake,\nin a few days, to make himself a complete civilian. Now, where a pleader\naddresses himself to the equity of his judges, he has much more room to\ndisplay his eloquence, than where he must draw his arguments from strict\nlaws, statutes, and precedents. In the former case many circumstances\nmust be taken in, many personal considerations regarded, and even favour\nand inclination, which it belongs to the orator, by his art and\neloquence, to conciliate, may be disguised under the appearance of\nequity. But how shall a modern lawyer have leisure to quit his toilsome\noccupations, in order to gather the flowers of Parnassus? Or what\nopportunity shall we have of displaying them, amidst the rigid and\nsubtile arguments, objections, and replies, which he is obliged to make\nuse of? The greatest genius, and greatest orator, who should pretend to\nplead before the _Chancellor_, after a month's study of the laws, would\nonly labour to make himself ridiculous.\n\nI am ready to own, that this circumstance, of the multiplicity and\nintricacy of laws, is a discouragement to eloquence in modern times; but\nI assert, that it will not entirely account for the decline of that\nnoble art. It may banish oratory from Westminster Hall, but not from\neither house of Parliament. Among the Athenians, the Areopagites\nexpressly forbade all allurements of eloquence; and some have\npretended, that in the Greek orations, written in the _judiciary_ form,\nthere is not so bold and rhetorical a style as appears in the Roman. But\nto what a pitch did the Athenians carry their eloquence in the\n_deliberative_ kind, when affairs of state were canvassed, and the\nliberty, happiness, and honour of the republic, were the subject of\ndebate! Disputes of this nature elevate the genius above all others, and\ngive the fullest scope to eloquence; and such disputes are very frequent\nin this nation.\n\n_Secondly_, It may be pretended, that the decline of eloquence is owing\nto the superior good sense of the moderns, who reject with disdain all\nthose rhetorical tricks employed to seduce the judges, and will admit of\nnothing but solid argument in any debate or deliberation. If a man be\naccused of murder, the fact must be proved by witnesses and evidence,\nand the laws will afterwards determine the punishment of the criminal.\nIt would be ridiculous to describe, in strong colours, the horror and\ncruelty of the action; to introduce the relations of the dead, and, at a\nsignal, make them throw themselves at the feet of the judges, imploring\njustice, with tears and lamentations: and still more ridiculous would it\nbe, to employ a picture representing the bloody deed, in order to move\nthe judges by the display of so tragical a spectacle, though we know\nthat this artifice was sometimes practised by the pleaders of old. Now,\nbanish the pathetic from public discourses, and you reduce the speakers\nmerely to modern eloquence; that is, to good sense, delivered in proper\nexpressions.\n\nPerhaps it may be acknowledged, that our modern customs, or our superior\ngood sense, if you will, should make our orators more cautious and\nreserved than the ancient, in attempting to inflame the passions, or\nelevate the imagination of their audience; but I see no reason why it\nshould make them despair absolutely of succeeding in that attempt. It\nshould make them redouble their art, not abandon it entirely. The\nancient orators seem also to have been on their guard against this\njealousy of their audience; but they took a different way of eluding it.\nThey hurried away with such a torrent of sublime and pathetic, that they\nleft their hearers no leisure to perceive the artifice by which they\nwere deceived. Nay, to consider the matter aright, they were not\ndeceived by any artifice. The orator, by the force of his own genius and\neloquence, first inflamed himself with anger, indignation, pity, sorrow;\nand then communicated those impetuous movements to his audience.\n\nDoes any man pretend to have more good sense than Julius C\u00e6sar?; yet\nthat haughty conqueror, we know, was so subdued by the charms of\nCicero's eloquence, that he was, in a manner, constrained to change his\nsettled purpose and resolution, and to absolve a criminal, whom, before\nthat orator pleaded, he was determined to condemn.\n\nSome objections, I own, notwithstanding his vast success, may lie\nagainst some passages of the Roman orator. He is too florid and\nrhetorical: his figures are too striking and palpable: the divisions of\nhis discourse are drawn chiefly from the rules of the schools: and his\nwit disdains not always the artifice even of a pun, rhyme, or jingle of\nwords. The Grecian addressed himself to an audience much less refined\nthan the Roman senate or judges. The lowest vulgar of Athens were his\nsovereigns, and the arbiters of his eloquence. Yet is his manner more\nchaste and austere than that of the other. Could it be copied, its\nsuccess would be infallible over a modern assembly. It is rapid harmony,\nexactly adjusted to the sense; it is vehement reasoning, without any\nappearance of art: it is disdain, anger, boldness, freedom, involved in\na continued stream of argument: and, of all human productions, the\norations of Demosthenes present to us the models which approach the\nnearest to perfection.\n\n_Thirdly_, It may be pretended, that the disorders of the ancient\ngovernments, and the enormous crimes of which the citizens were often\nguilty, afforded much ampler matter for eloquence than can be met with\namong the moderns. Were there no Verres or Catiline, there would be no\nCicero. But that this reason can have no great influence, is evident. It\nwould be easy to find a Philip in modern times, but where shall we find\na Demosthenes?\n\nWhat remains, then, but that we lay the blame on the want of genius, or\nof judgment, in our speakers, who either found themselves incapable of\nreaching the heights of ancient eloquence, or rejected all such\nendeavours, as unsuitable to the spirit of modern assemblies? A few\nsuccessful attempts of this nature might rouse the genius of the nation,\nexcite the emulation of the youth, and accustom our ears to a more\nsublime and more pathetic elocution, than what we have been hitherto\nentertained with. There is certainly something accidental in the first\nrise and progress of the arts in any nation. I doubt whether a very\nsatisfactory reason can be given why ancient Rome, though it received\nall its refinements from Greece, could attain only to a relish for\nstatuary, painting, and architecture, without reaching the practice of\nthese arts. While modern Rome has been excited by a few remains found\namong the ruins of antiquity, and has produced artists of the greatest\neminence and distinction. Had such a cultivated genius for oratory, as\nWaller's for poetry, arisen during the civil wars, when liberty began to\nbe fully established, and popular assemblies to enter into all the most\nmaterial points of government, I am persuaded so illustrious an example\nwould have given a quite different turn to British eloquence, and made\nus reach the perfection of the ancient model. Our orators would then\nhave done honour to their country, as well as our poets, geometers, and\nphilosophers; and British Ciceros have appeared, as well as British\nArchimedeses and Virgils.[1]\n\nIt is seldom or never found, when a false taste in poetry or eloquence\nprevails among any people, that it has been preferred to a true, upon\ncomparison and reflection. It commonly prevails merely from ignorance of\nthe true, and from the want of perfect models to lead men into a juster\napprehension, and more refined relish of those productions of genius.\nWhen _these_ appear, they soon unite all suffrages in their favour, and,\nby their natural and powerful charms, gain over even the most\nprejudiced to the love and admiration of them. The principles of every\npassion, and of every sentiment, is in every man; and, when touched\nproperly, they rise to life, and warm the heart, and convey that\nsatisfaction, by which a work of genius is distinguished from the\nadulterate beauties of a capricious wit and fancy. And, if this\nobservation be true, with regard to all the liberal arts, it must be\npeculiarly so with regard to eloquence; which, being merely calculated\nfor the public, and for men of the world, cannot, without any pretence\nof reason, appeal from the people to more refined judges, but must\nsubmit to the public verdict without reserve or limitation. Whoever,\nupon comparison, is deemed by a common audience the greatest orator,\nought most certainly to be pronounced such by men of science and\nerudition. And though an indifferent speaker may triumph for a long\ntime, and be esteemed altogether perfect by the vulgar, who are\nsatisfied with his accomplishments, and know not in what he is\ndefective; yet, whenever the true genius arises, he draws to him the\nattention of every one, and immediately appears superior to his rival.\n\nNow, to judge by this rule, ancient eloquence, that is, the sublime and\npassionate, is of a much juster taste than the modern, or the\nargumentative and rational, and, if properly executed, will always have\nmore command and authority over mankind. We are satisfied with our\nmediocrity, because we have had no experience of any thing better: but\nthe ancients had experience of both; and upon comparison, gave the\npreference to that kind of which they have left us such applauded\nmodels. For, if I mistake not, our modern eloquence is of the same style\nor species with that which ancient critics denominated Attic eloquence,\nthat is, calm, elegant, and subtile, which instructed the reason more\nthan affected the passions, and never raised its tone above argument or\ncommon discourse. Such was the eloquence of Lysias among the Athenians,\nand of Calvus among the Romans. These were esteemed in their time; but,\nwhen compared with Demosthenes and Cicero, were eclipsed like a taper\nwhen set in the rays of a meridian sun. Those latter orators possessed\nthe same elegance, and subtilty, and force of argument with the former;\nbut, what rendered them chiefly admirable, was that pathetic and\nsublime, which, on proper occasions, they threw into their discourse,\nand by which they commanded the resolution of their audience.\n\nOf this species of eloquence we have scarcely had any instance in\nEngland, at least in our public speakers. In our writers, we have had\nsome instances which have met with great applause, and might assure our\nambitious youth of equal or superior glory in attempts for the revival\nof ancient eloquence. Lord Bolingbroke's productions, with all their\ndefects in argument, method, and precision, contain a force and energy\nwhich our orators scarcely ever aim at; though it is evident that such\nan elevated style has much better grace in a speaker than in a writer,\nand is assured of more prompt and more astonishing success. It is there\nseconded by the graces of voice and action: the movements are mutually\ncommunicated between the orator and the audience: and the very aspect of\na large assembly, attentive to the discourse of one man, must inspire\nhim with a peculiar elevation, sufficient to give a propriety to the\nstrongest figures and expressions. It is true, there is a great\nprejudice against _set speeches_; and a man cannot escape ridicule, who\nrepeats a discourse as a schoolboy does his lesson, and takes no notice\nof any thing that has been advanced in the course of the debate. But\nwhere is the necessity of falling into this absurdity? A public speaker\nmust know beforehand the question under debate. He may compose all the\narguments, objections, and answers, such as he thinks will be most\nproper for his discourse. If any thing new occur, he may supply it from\nhis own invention; nor will the difference be very apparent between his\nelaborate and his extemporary compositions. The mind naturally continues\nwith the same _impetus_ or _force_, which it has acquired by its motion\nas a vessel, once impelled by the oars, carries on its course for some\ntime when the original impulse is suspended.\n\nI shall conclude this subject with observing, that, even though our\nmodern orators should not elevate their style, or aspire to a rivalship\nwith the ancient; yet there is, in most of their speeches, a material\ndefect which they might correct, without departing from that composed\nair of argument and reasoning to which they limit their ambition. Their\ngreat affectation of extemporary discourses has made them reject all\norder and method, which seems so requisite to argument, and without\nwhich it is scarcely possible to produce an entire conviction on the\nmind. It is not that one would recommend many divisions in a public\ndiscourse, unless the subject very evidently offer them: but it is easy,\nwithout this formality, to observe a method, and make that method\nconspicuous to the hearers, who will be infinitely pleased to see the\narguments rise naturally from one another, and will retain a more\nthorough persuasion than can arise from the strongest reasons which are\nthrown together in confusion.\n\n\n[1] I have confessed that there is something accidental in the origin\nand progress of the arts in any nation; and yet I cannot forbear\nthinking, that if the other learned and polite nations of Europe had\npossessed the same advantages of a popular government, they would\nprobably have carried eloquence to a greater height than it has yet\nreached in Britain. The French sermons, especially those of Flechier and\nBourdaloue, are much superior to the English in this particular; and in\nFlechier there are many strokes of the most sublime poetry. His funeral\nsermon on the Marechal de Turenne, is a good instance. None but private\ncauses in that country, are ever debated before their Parliament or\nCourts of Judicature; but, notwithstanding this disadvantage, there\nappears a spirit of eloquence in many of their lawyers, which, with\nproper cultivation and encouragement, might rise to the greatest\nheights. The pleadings of Patru are very elegant, and give us room to\nimagine what so fine a genius could have performed in questions\nconcerning public liberty or slavery, peace or war, who exerts himself\nwith such success in debates concerning the price of an old horse, or\nthe gossiping story of a quarrel betwixt an abbess and her nuns. For it\nis remarkable, that this polite writer, though esteemed by all the men\nof wit in his time, was never employed in the most considerable causes\nof their courts of judicature, but lived and died in poverty; from an\nancient prejudice industriously propagated by the Dunces in all\ncountries, _That a man of genius is unfit for business._ The disorders\nproduced by the ministry of Cardinal Mazarine, made the Parliament of\nParis enter into the discussion of public affairs; and during that short\ninterval, there appeared many symptoms of the revival of ancient\neloquence. The Avocat-General, Talon, in an oration, invoked on his\nknees the spirit of St Louis to look down with compassion on his divided\nand unhappy people, and to inspire them, from above, with the love of\nconcord and unanimity. The members of the French Academy have attempted\nto give us models of eloquence in their harangues at their admittance;\nbut having no subject to discourse upon, they have run altogether into a\nfulsome strain of panegyric and flattery, the most barren of all\nsubjects. Their style, however, is commonly, on these occasions, very\nelevated and sublime, and might reach the greatest heights, were it\nemployed on a subject more favourable and engaging.\n\nThere are some circumstances in the English temper and genius, which are\ndisadvantageous to the progress of eloquence, and render all attempts of\nthat kind more dangerous and difficult among them, than among any other\nnation in the universe. The English are conspicuous for good sense,\nwhich makes them very jealous of any attempts to deceive them, by the\nflowers of rhetoric and elocution. They are also peculiarly _modest_;\nwhich makes them consider it as a piece of arrogance to offer any thing\nbut reason to public assemblies, or attempt to guide them by passion or\nfancy. I may, perhaps, be allowed to add that the people in general are\nnot remarkable for delicacy of taste, or for sensibility to the charms\nof the Muses. Their musical parts, to use the expression of a noble\nauthor, are but indifferent. Hence their comic poets, to move them, must\nhave recourse to obscenity; their tragic poets to blood and slaughter.\nAnd hence, their orators, being deprived of any such resource, have\nabandoned altogether the hopes of moving them, and have confined\nthemselves to plain argument and reasoning.\n\nThese circumstances, joined to particular accidents, may, perhaps, have\nretarded the growth of eloquence in this kingdom; but will not be able\nto prevent its success, if ever it appear amongst us. And one may safely\npronounce, that this is a field in which the most flourishing laurels\nmay yet be gathered, if any youth of accomplished genius, thoroughly\nacquainted with all the polite arts, and not ignorant of public\nbusiness, should appear in Parliament, and accustom our ears to an\neloquence more commanding and pathetic. And to confirm me in this\nopinion, there occur two considerations, the one derived from ancient,\nthe other from modern times.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Essays","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":35533}