presented to

(The Xtbrar^

of UlnfpersftB of Toronto

professor Hltre& IBafter ^anuari? 15, 1941

Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive

in 2007 witii funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

http://www.arcliive.org/details/enquiryconcernin02godwuoft

E NQU I RY

COMCBBNnra

POLITICAL JUSTICE

AND

ITS INFLUENCE

ON

MORALS AND HAPPINESS. BY WILLIAM GODWIN.

THE FOURTH EDITION.

IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. IL

lEontton: J. WATSON, 5, PAUL'S ALLEY, PATERNOSTER ROW,

1842.

3C

1062483

f

CONTFNTS OF VOL. II. V

Pa»e. CHAP. II.

Of Religious Establishn^ents 1 12

CHAP. III.

Of the Suppression of Erroneous Opinions in Religion and

Government 115

CHAP. IV.

Of Tests 121

CHAP. V.

Of Oaths 125

CHAP. VI.

Of Libels 128

CHAP. VII.

Of Constitutions 135

CHAP. VIII.

Of National Education 142

CHAP. IX.

Of Pensions and Salaries 146

CHAP. X.

Of the Modes of Deciding a Question on the Part of the Community 151

BOOK VII.

OF CRIMES AND PUNISHMENTS. " CHAP. I.

Limitations of the Doctrine of Punishment which Result

from the Principles of Morality 154

CHAP. II.

General Disadvantages of Punishment 157

CHAP. III.

Of the Purposes of Punishment 161

CHAP. IV.

Of the Applicationr of Punishment 166

CHAP. V.

Of Punishment Considered as a Temporary Expedient 172

CHAP. VI.

Scale of Punishment 181

VI CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

Page. CHAP. VII.

Of Evidence j g9

CHAP. VIII.

Of Law 190

CHAP. IX.

Of Pardons 199

BOOK VIII.

OF PROPERTY. CHAP. I.

Preliminary Observations 202

CHAP. II.

Principles of Property 207

CHAP. III.

Benefits Attendant on a System of Equality 218

CHAP. IV.

Objection to this System from the Frailty of the Human Mind 225

CHAP. V.

Objection to this System from the Question of Permanence . 228

CHAP. VI.

Objection to this System from the Allurements of Sloth. . . . 230

CHAP. VII.

Objection to this System from the Benefits of Luxury 230

CHAP. vm. Objection to this System from the Inflexibility of its Re- strictions 238

Appendix. Of Co-operation, Cohabitation and Marriage . . 239

CHAP. IX.

Objection to this System from the Principle of Population . 247 Appendix. Of Health and the Prolongation of Human Life 249

CHAP. x.

Reflections 254

ENQUIRY

CONXERNXNG

POLITICAL JUSTICE.

BOOK V.

OF LEGISLA.TIVE AND EXECUTIVE POWER. CHAP. I.

INTRODUCTION.

Retrospect of principles already established.— Distribution of the re- • maining subjects. — Subject of the present book. — Foi'ms of govei'ii- merit. — Method of examination to be adopted.

In the preceding divisions of tliis work the ground has been suf- ficiently cleared, to enable us to proceed, with considei-ablo explicitness and satisfaction, to the practical detail : in other words, to attempt the tracing out that application of the laws of general justice, which may best conduce to the gradual improve- ment of mankind.

It has appeared, that an enquiry concerning the principles and conduct of social intercourse is the most important topic upon which the mind of man can be exercised ;* that, upon tliesc principles, well or ill conceived, and the manner in which they are administered, the vices and virtues of individuals depend ;t that political institution, to be good, must have constant relation, to the mles of immutable justice ; J and that those rules, uniform in their nature, are equally applicable to the whole human race.§

The different topics of political institution cannot perhaps be more perspicuously distributed, than imder the four following heads : provisions for general administration ; provisions for the intellectual and moral improvement of individuals ; provisions for the administration of criminal justice ; and provisions for the regulation of property. Under each of these heads it will be our business, in proportion as we adhere to the great and comprehen-

* Book T. + Book IT., Chap. II.

t Book I., Chap. YI. YII. J Book lU., Chap. VII.

IC— VOL. 11. B

2 OF LEGISLATIVE AND

sive principles already established, rather to clear away abuses, than to recommend further and more precise regulations, rather to simplify, than to complicate. Above all, we should not forget that government is, abstractedly taken, an evil, an usurpation ■upon the private judgment and individual conscience of man- kind ; * and that, however we may be obliged to admit it as a necessary evil for the present, it behoves us, as the friends of rea- son and the human species, to admit as little of it as possible, and carefully to observe, whether, in consequence of the gradual illu- mination of the human mind, that little may not hereafter be diminished.

And first we are to consider the different provisions that may be made for general administration; including, under the phrase general administration, all that shall be found necessary, of what has usually been denominated, legislative and executive power. Legislation has already appeared to be a term not applicable to human society.f Men cannot do more than declare and inter- pret law ; nor can there be an authority so paramount, as to have the prerogative of making that to be law, which abstract and im- mutable justice had not made to be law previously to that inter- position. But it might, notwithstanding this, be foimd necessary, that there should be an authority empowered to declare those general principles, by which the equity of the community will be regulated, in particular cases upon which it may be compelled to decide. The question concerning the reality and extent of this necessity, it is proper to reserve for after consideration. J Execu- tive power consists of two very distinct parts : general delibera- tions relative to particular emergencies, which, so far as practicability is concerned, may be exercised either by one indi- vidual or a body of individuals, such as peace and war, taxation,§ and the selection of proper periods for convoking deliberative assemblies : and particular functions, such as those of financial detail, or minute superintendence, which caimot be exercised unless by one or a small number of persons.

In reviewing these several branches of authority, and con- sidering the persons to whom they may be most properly confided, we cannot perhaps do better, than adopt the ordinary distribution of forms of government, into monarchy, aristocracy, and de- mocracy. Under each of these heads we may enquire into the merits of their respective principles, first absolutely, and upon the hypothesis of their standing singly for the whole administration ; and secondly, in a limited view, upon the supposition of their constituting one branch only of the system of government. It is usually alike incident to them all, to confide the minuter branches of executive detail to inferior agents.

* Book II. t Book in., Chap. V. t Book VII., Chap. VIII.

\ I state the article of taxation as a branch of executive government, since it is not, like law or the declaration of law, a promulgating of some general principle, but is a temporary regulation for some particular emergence.

EXECUTIVE POWER. 3

P

m One thing more it is necessary to premise. The merits of each

■ of the three heads I have enumerated, are to be considered nega- m lively. The corporate duties of mankind, are the result of their

■ irregularities and follies in their individual capacity. If they had no imperfection, or if men were so constituted, as to he sufficiently, and sufficiently early, corrected by persuasion alone, society •would cease from its functions. Of consequence, of the three forms of government, and their compositions, that is the best, which shall least impede the activity and application of our intel- lectual powers. It was in the recollection of this truth that I have preferred the term political institution to that of government, the former appearing to be sufficiently expressive of that relative form, whatever it be, into which individuals would fall, when there was no need of force to direct them into their proper chan- nel, and were no refractory members to correct.

CHAP. II.

OF EDUCATION, THE EDUCATION OT A PRINCE.

Nature of monarchy delineated. — School of adversity. — Tendency of superfluity to inspire effeminacy — to depi-ive us of the benefit of eX' verience — illustrated in the case of princes. — Manner in which they are addressed. — Inefficacy of the instruction bestowed upon them.

First then of monarchy ; and we will first suppose the succession to the monarchy to he hereditary. It this case we have the ad- ditional advantage, of considering this distinguished mortal, who is thus set over the heads of the rest of his species, from the period of his birth.

The abstract idea of a king, is of an extremely momentous and extraordinary nature ; and, though the idea has, by the accident of education, been rendered familiar to us from our infancy, yet perhaps the majority of readers can recollect the period, when it struck them with astonishment, and confounded their powers of apprehension. It being sufficiently evident, that some species of government was necessary, and that individuals must concede a part of that sacred and important privilege, by which each man is constituted judge of his own words and actions, for the sake of general good, it was next requisite to consider what expedients might be substituted in the room of this original claim. One of these expedients, has been monarchy. It was the interest of each individual, that his individuality should be invaded as rarely as possible ; that no invasion shoidd be permitted to flow from wan- ton caprice, from sinister and disingenuous views, or from the in- stigation of anger, partiality and passion ; and that this bank, severely levied upon the peculium of each member of the society,

B 2

4 OF EDUCATION,

should be administered with frugality and discretion. It was, therefore, without doubt, a very bold adventure, to commit this precious deposit to the custody of a single man. If we contemplate the human powers, whether of body or mind, we shall find thera much better suited to the siTperintendence of our private concerns and to the administering occasional assistance to others, than to the accepting the formal trust of superintending the affairs and watching for the happiness of millions. If we recollect the physi- cal and moral equality of mankind, it will appear a vei-y violent usurpation upon this principle, to place one individual at so vast an interval from the rest of his species. Let us then consider how such persons are usually educated, or may be expected to be educated, and how well they are prepared for this illustrious office.

It is a common opinion, " That adversity is the school, in which all extraordinary virtue must be formed. Henry the Fourth of France, and Elizabeth of England, experienced a long series of calamities, before they were elevated to a throne. Alfred, of whom the obscure chronicles of a barbarous age record such -superior virtues, passed through tlie vicissitudes of a vagabond and a fugitive. Even the mixed, and, upon the whole, the vicious, yet accomplished, characters of Frederic and Alexander, were not formed, without the interference of injustice and persecution.'*

This hypothesis however seems to have been pushed too far. It is no more reasonable to suppose that virtue cannot be matured without injustice, than to believe, which has been another pre- vailing opinion, that human happiness cannot be secured without imposture and deceit.* Botli these errors have a common source, a distrust of the omnipotence of truth. If their advocates had reflected more deeply upon the nature of the human mind, they would have perceived, that all our voluntary' actions are judg- ments of the understandmg, and that actions of the most judicious and useful nature, must infallibly flow fa-om a real and genuine conviction of truth.

But, though the exaggerated opinion here stated, of the useful- ness of adversity, be erroneous, it is, like many other of our errors, allied to important truth. If adversity be not necessary, it must be allowed that prosperity is pernicious. Not a genuine and philosophical prosperity, which requires no more than sound health with a sound intellect, the capacity of procuring for our- selves, by a moderate and well regulated industry, the means of subsistence, virtue, and wisdom : but prosperity as it is usually understood, that is, a competence, provided for us by tlie caprice of human institution, inviting our bodies to indolence, and our minds to lethargj- ; and still more prosperity, as it is imderstood in the case of noblemen and princes, that is, a superfluity of wealth, which deprives us of all intercourse with our fellow men upon equal terms, and makes us prisoners of state, gratified indeed

• Chap. XV

F

THB EDUCATION OF A PRINCE.

•with baubles and splendour, but shut out from the real benefits of society, and the perception of truth. If truth be so intrinsically powerful, as to make adversity unnecessary to excite our attention to it, it is nevertheless certain, that luxury and wealth have the most fatal effects in distorting it. If it require no foreign aid to assist its energies, we ought however to be upon our guard, against principles and situations, tlie tendency of which may be per- petually to counteract it.

Nor is this all. One of the most essential ingredients of virtue is fortitude. It was the plan of many of the Grecian philosophers, and most of all of Diogenes, to show to mankind, how veiy limited is the supply that our necessities require, and how little dependent our real welfare and prosperity are upon the caprice of others. Among innumerable incidents upon record that illus- trate this principle, a single one may suffice to suggest to our minds its general spirit, Diogenes had a slave whose name was Menas, and Menas thought proper upon some occasion to elope. " Ha I" said the philosopher, " can Menas live without Diogenes, and cannot Diogenes live without Menas ?" There can be no lesson more important, tban that which is here conveyed. The man that docs not know himself not to be at the mercy of other men, that does not feel that he is invulnerable to all the vicissi- tudes of fortune, is incapable of a constant and inflexible virtue. He, to whom the rest of his species can reasonably look up with confidence, must be firm, because his mind is filled with the ex- cellence of the object he pursues ; and cheerful, because he knows that it is out of the power of events to injure him. If any one should choose to imagine that this idea of virtue is strained too high, yet all must allow, that no man can be entitled to our confidence, who trembles at every wind, who can endure no adversity, and whose very existence is linked to the artificial character he sustains. Nothing can more reasonably excite our contempt, than a man who, if he were once reduced to the genuine and simple condition of man, would be driven to despair, and find himself incapable of consulting and providing for his own subsistence. Fortitude is a habit of mind that grows out of a sense of our independence. If there be a man, who dares not even trust his own imagination with the fancied change of his circumstances, he must necessarily be effeminate, irresolute and temporising. He that loves sensuality or ostentation better than virtue, may be entitled to our pity, but a madman only would intrust to his disposal anytliing that was dear to him.

Again, the only means by which truth can be communicated to the human mind, is through the inlet of the senses. It is per- haps impossible, that a man shut up in a cabinet, can ever be wise. If we would acquire knowledge, we must open our eyes, and contemplate tlie universe. Till we are acquainted with the meaning of terms, and the nature of the objects around us, we cannot understand the propositions tliat may be formed concern- ing them. Till we are acquainted with the natiure of the objects

6 OP EDUCATION,

around us, we cannot compare them with the principles we have formed, and understand the modes of employing them. There are other ways of attaining wisdom and ability beside the school of adversity, but there is no way of attaining them, but through the medium of experience. That is, experience brings in the ma- terials with which intellect works ; for it must be granted, that a man of limited experience, will often be more capable, than he who has gone through the greatest variety of scenes ; or rather per- haps, that one man may collect more experience in a sphere of a few miles square, than another who has sailed round the world.

To conceive truly the value of experience, we must recollect tlie numerous improvements the human mind has received, and how far an enlightened European differs from a solitary savage. However multifarious are these improvements, there are but two ways in which they can be appropriated by any individual ; either at second hand by books and conversation, or at first hand by our own observations of men and things. The improvement we receive in the first of these modes is unlimited ; but it will not do alone. We cannot understand books, till we have seen the subjects of which they treat.

He that knows the mind of man, must have observed it for himself ; he that knows it most intimately, must have observed it in its greatest variety of situations. He must have seen it without disguise, when no exterior situation puts a curb upon its passions, and induces the individual to exhibit a studied, not a spontaneous character. He must have seen men in their un- guarded moments, when the eagerness of temporary resentment tips their tongue with fire, when they are animated and dilated by hope, when they are tortured and wrung with despair, when the soul pours out its inmost self into the bosom of an equal and a friend. Lastly, he must himself have been an actor in the scene, have had his own passions brought into play, have known, the anxiety of expectation and the transport of success, or he will feel and understand about as much of what he sees, as mankind in general would of the transactions of the vitrified inhabitants of the planet Mercury, or the salamanders that live in the sun. — Such is the education of the true philosopher, the genuine politician, the friend and benefactor of human kind.

What is the education of a prince ? Its j&rst quality is extreme tenderness. The Minds of heaven are not permitted to blow upon him. He is dressed and undressed by his lacqueys and valets. His wants are carefully anticipated ; his desires, without any effort of his, profusely supplied. His health is of too much importance to the community, to permit him to exert any con- siderable effort either of body or mind. He must not hear the voice of reprimand or blame. In all things it is first of all to be remembered, that he is a prince, that is, some rare and precious creature, but not of human kind.

As he is the heir to a throne, it is never forgotten by those about him, that considerable importance is to be annexed to his favour

THE EDUCATION OF A PRINCE.

i

^F or his displeasure. Accordingly, they never express themselves

^^ in his presence frankly and naturally, either respecting him or

■ themselves. They are supporting a part. They play under a M mask. Their own fortime and emolument is always uppermost

■ in their minds, at the same time that they are anxious to appear mi generous, disinterested, and sincere. All his caprices are to be

■ complied with. All his gratifications are to be studied. They E find him a depraved and sordid mortal ; they judge of his appe-

■ tites and capacities by their own ; and the gratifications they

■ recommend, serve to sink him deeper in folly and vice.

" "What is the result of such an education ? Having never ex-

perienced contradiction, the young prince is arrogant and pre- sumptuous. Having always been accustomed to the slaves of necessity or the slaves of choice, he does not understand even the meaning of the word freedom. His temper is insolent, and impatient of parley and expostulation. Knowing nothing, he be- lieves himself sovereignly informed, and runs headlong into danger, not froLi firmness and courage, but from the most egre- gious wilfulness and vanity. Like Pyrrho among the ancient phi- losophers, if his attendants were at a distance, and he trusted himself alone in the open air, he would perhaps be run over by the next coach, or fall down the first precipice. His violence and presumption, are strikingly contrasted with the extreme timidity of his disposition. The first opposition terrifies him, the first difficulty, seen and imderstood, appears insuperable. He trembles at a shadow, and at the very semblance of adversity is dissolved into tears. It has accordingly been observed, that princes are commonly superstitious beyond the rate of ordinary mortals.

Above all, simple, unqualified truth is a stranger to his ear. It either never approaches; or, if so unexpected a guest should once appear, it meets with so cold a reception, as to afi"ord little encouragement to a second visit. The longer he has been accus tomed to falsehood and flattery, the more grating will it sound The longer he has been accustomed to falsehood and flattery, the more terrible will the task appear to him, to change his tastes, and discard his favourites. He will either place a blind con- fidence in all men, or, having detected the insincerity of those who were most agreeable to him, will conclude that all men are knavish and designing. As a consequence of this last opinion, he will become indifferent to mankind, and callous to their suffer- ings, and will believe tha,t even the virtuous are knaves under a craftier mask. Such is the education of an individual, who is destined to superintend the affairs, and watch for the happiness of millions.

In this picture are contained tlie features which most obviously constitute the education of a prince, into the conduct of which no person of energy and virtue has by accident been introduced. In real life it will be variously modified, but the majority of the features, unless in rare instances, will remain the same. In no

8 OF EDUCATION,

case can the education of a friend and benefactor of human kind, as sketched in a preceding page, by any speculative contrivance be communicated.

Nor is there any difficulty in accounting for the universal mis- carriage. The wisest perceptor, thus circumstanced, must labour under insuperable disadvantages. No situation can be so artifi- cial as that of a prince, so difficult to be understood by him who occupies it, so irresistibly propelling the mind to mistake. The first ideas it suggests, are of a tranquillising and soporific nature. It fills him with the opinion, of his secretly possessing some inherent advantage over the rest of his species, by which he is formed to command, and they to obey. If you assure him of the contrary, you can expect only an imperfect and temporary credit; for facts when, as in this case, they are continually de- posing against you, speak a language more emphatic and intelli- gible, than words. If it were not as he supposes, why should every one that approaches, be eager to serve him ? The sordid and selfish motives by which they are really actuated, he is very late in detecting. It may even be doubted, whether the indi- vidual, who was never led to put the professions of others to the test, by his real wants, has, in any instance, been completely aware of the little credit that is usually due to them. A prince finds himself courted and adored, long before he can have acquired a merit entitling him to such distinctions. By what arguments can you persuade him laboriously to pursue, what appears so completely superfluous ? How can you induce him to be dissatisfied with his present acquisitions, while every other person assures him, that his accomplishments are admirable, and his mind a mirror of sagacity ? How will you persuade him who finds all his wishes anticipated, to engage in any arduous under- taking, or propose any distant object for his ambition ?

But, even should you succeed in this, his pursuits may be expected to be either mishievous or useless. His understanding is distorted ; and the basis of all morality, the recollection that other men are beings of the same order with himself, is extir- pated. It would be unreasonable to expect from him anything generous and humane. Unfortunate as he is, his situation is continually propelling him to vice, and destroying the germs of integrity and virtue, before they are unfolded. If sensibility begin to discover itself, it is immediately poisoned by the blight- ing winds of flattery. Amusement and sensuality call with an imperious voice, and will not allow him time to feel. Artificial as is the character he fills, even should he aspire to fame, it will be by the artificial methods of false refinement, or the barbarous inventions of usurpation and conquest, not by the plain and unornamented road of benevolence.

Some idea of the methods usually pursued, and the eflects produced in the education of a prince, may be collected from a late publication of Madame de Genlis, in which she gives an ac- count of her own proceedings in relation to the children of the

THE EDUCATION OF A PUINCE . 9

Duke of Orleans. She thus describes the features of their dis- position and liabits, at the time they were committed to her care. "The Duke de Valois (the eldest) is frequently coarse in his manners, and ignoble in his expressions. He finds great humour in calling mean and common objects by their most vulgar appellations; all this seasoned with the proverbial pro- pensity of Sancho, and set off with a loud forced laugh. His prate is eternal, nor does he suspect but that it must be an exqui- site gratification to any one to be entertained with it ; and he fre- quently heightens the jest by a falsehood uttered in the gi-avest manner imaginable. Neither he nor his brother has the least regard for any body but themselves ; they are selfish and grasping, considering everything that is done for them as their due, and imagining that they are in no respect obliged to consult the happiness of others. The slightest reproof is beyond measure shocking to them, and the indignation tliey conceive at it, im- mediately vents itself in suUenness or tears. They are in an un- common degree effeminate, afraid of the wind or the cold, unable to run or leap, or even so much as to walk at a round pace, or for more than half an hour at a time. The Duke de Valois has an extreme terror of dogs to such a degree as to turn pale and shriek at the sight of one." " When the children of the Duke of Orleans were committed to my care, they had been ac- customed in winter to wear imder- waistcoats, two pair of stock- ings, gloves, muffs, &c. The eldest, who was eight of age, never came down stairs, without being supported by the arm of one or two persons; the domestics were obliged to render them the meanest services, and, for a cold or any slight indisposition, sat up with ihem for nights together."*

• " M. de ralois a encore des manieres hien desagreables, des expressions ignobles, et de terns en terns le plus mauvais ton. A present qu'il est d son aise avec moi, il me debite avec confiance toutes les gentillesses qu'on lui a apprises. Tout cela assaisonnc de tous les proverbes de Sancho, et d'un eros rire force, qui n'est pas le moindre de ses desagremems. En outre, il est ires bavard, grand conteur, et il ment souvent pour se divertir ; avec cela la plus grande indifference pour M. et Mde. Chartres, n'tj pensant jamais, les voyant froidement ne desirant point les voir. — //* etoient Vun et Vautre de la plus grande impolitesse, oui et non tout court, ou un signe de tite, peu re- connoissant, parce qu'ils croient qu'il n'est point de soins, d' attentions, ni d'egards qu'on ne les doive. II n'etoit pas possible de les reprendre sans les mettre au d^sepoir ; dans ce cas, toujours despleurs ou de Vhumeur. lis (toient tres douillets, craignant le vent, le froid, ne pouvant, non seulement m courir ni sauter, mais meme ni marcher d'un bon pas, et plus d'une demi- heure. Et M. le due de Faloii ayant une peur affreuse des chiens au point de pdlir et de crier quand il en voyoit un,"

" Quand on m'a remis ceux que fat eleves, ils avoient Vhabitude de porter en hirer des gillets, des doubles paires de bas, des grands manchons, etc. L'aine, qui aroit huit ans, ne descendoit jamais un escalier sans s'appuyer sur le bras d'une ou deux personnes. On obligeoit des domestiques de ccs enfans a leur rendfe les services les plus vils : pour un rhume, j)our tt,ne Ifgere incommodite, ces domestiques passoient sans cesse les ntiits, etc."

Leqons d'une Gouvemante a ses Eleves, par Mde. de Sillery Brulart Cci-devant Comtesse de GenlisJ, Tome II,

10 PRIVATE LIFE OP A PRINCE.

Madame de Genlis, a woman of uncommon talents, though lierself infected with a considerable number of errors corrected these defects in the young princes. But few princes have the good fortune to be educated by a person of so much independence and firmness as Madame de Genlis, and we may safely take our standard for the average calculation, rather from her predecessors, than herself. Even were it otherwise, we have already seen what it is that a preceptor can do in the education of a prince. Nor should it be forgotten that the children under her care, were iiot of the class of princes who seemed destined to a throne.

CHAP. III.

PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.

Principles by which he is influenced — irresponsibility — impatience of control — habits of dissipation — ignorance — dislike of truth — dislike of justice. — Pitiable situation of princes.

Such is the culture ; the fruit that it produces may easily be con- jectured. The fashion which is given to the mind in youth, it ordinarily retains in age ; and it is with ordinary cases only that the present argument is concerned. If there have been kings, as there have been some other men, in the forming of whom par- ticular have outweighed general causes, the recollection of such exceptions has little to do with the question, whether monarchy be, generally speaking, a benefit or an evil. Nature has no par- ticular mould in which she forms the intellects of princes; monarchy is certainly not Jure divino ; and of consequence, what- ever system we may adopt upon the subject of natural talents, the ordinary rate of kings, will possess, at best, but the ordinary rate of human understanding. In what has been said, and in what remains to say, we are not to fix our minds upon prodigies, but to think of the species as it is usually found, s

But, though education for tlie most part determines the cha- racter of the future man, it may not be useless to follow the disquisition a little further. Education, in one sense, is the affair of youth ; but, in a stricter and more accurate sense, tlie educa- tion of an intellectual being can terminate only with his life. Every incident that befals us, is tlie parent of a sentiment, and either confirms or coimteracts the preconceptions of the mind.

Now the causes that acted upon kings in their minority, con- tinue to act upon them in their maturer years. Everything is carefully kept out of sight, that may remind them they are men. Every means is employed which may persuade them, that they are of a different species of beings, and subject to different laws of

PRIVATE LIFE OP A PRINCE. 1 1

existence. " A king," such at least is the maxim of absolute mo- narchies, "though obliged by a rigid system of duties, is accountable for his discharge of those duties only to God." That is, exposed to a hundred fold more seductions than ordinary men, he has not, like them, the checks of a visible constitution of things, perpet- ually, through, the medium of the senses, making their way to the mind. He is taught to believe himself superior to the restraints that bind ordinary men, and subject to a rule peculiarly his own. Everything is trusted to the motives of an invisible world ; which whatever may be the estimate to which they are entitled in the view of philosophy, mankind are not now to learn, are weakly felt by those who are immerged in splendour or affairs, and have little chance of success, in contending with the impressions of sense, and the allurements of visible objects.

It is a maxim generally received in the world, "that every king is a despot in his heart," and the maxim can seldom fail to be verified in the experiment. A limited monarch, and an abso- lute monarch, though in many respects different, approach in more points than they separate. A monarch, strictly without limitation, is perhaps a phenomenon that never yet existed. All countries have possessed some check upon despotism, which, to tlieir deluded imaginations, appeared a sufficient security for their independence. All kings have possessed such a portion of luxury and ease, have been so far surrounded with servility and false- hood, and to such a degree exempt from personal responsibility, as to destroy the natural and wholesome complexion of the human mind. Being placed so high, they find but one step between them and the summit of social authority, and they cannot but eagerly desire to pass that step. Having so frequent occasions of seeing their commands implicitly obeyed, being trained in so long a scene of adulation and servility, it is impossible they should not feel some indignation, at the honest firmness that sets limits to their omnipotence. But to say, " that every king is a despot in his heart," will presently be shown to be the same thing, as to say, that every king is, by unavoidable necessity, the enemy of the human race.

The principal source of virtuous conduct, is to recollect the absent. He that takes into his estimate present things alone, will be the perpetual slave of sensuality and selfishness. He will have no principle by which to restrain appetite, or to employ himself in just and benevolent pursuits. The cause of virtue and innocence, however urgent, will no sooner cease to be heard, than it will be forgotten. Accordingly, nothing is found more favourable to the attainment of moral excellence, than medita- tion : nothing more hostile, than an uninterrupted succession of amusements. It would be absurd to expect from kings the recol- lection of virtue in exile or disgrace. It has generally been observed, tliat, even for the loss of a flatterer or a favourite, they speedily console themselves. Image after image so speedily succeed in their sensorium, that no one leaves a durable impres-

12 PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.

sion. A circumstance which contributes to this moral insen- sibility, is the effeminacy and cowardice which grow out of perpetual indulgence. Their minds irresistibly shrink from pain- ful ideas, from motives that would awaken them to effort, and reflections that demand severity of disquisition.

What situation can be more unfortunate, than that of a stranger, who cannot speak our language, knows nothing of our manners and customs, and enters into the busy scene of our affairs, with- out one friend to advise with or assist him ? If anything is to be got by such a man, we may depend upon seeing him instantly surrounded with a group of thieves, sharpers, and extortioners. They will impose upon him the most incredible stories, will overreach liim in every article of his necessities or his commerce, and he will leave the country at last, as unfriended, and in as absolute ignorance, as he entered it. Such a stranger is a king ; but with this difference, that the foreigner, if he be a man of sagacity and penetration may make his way through this crowd of intruders, and discover a set of persons worthy of his con- fidence, which can scarcely in any case happen to a king. He is placed in a sphere peculiarly his own. He is surrounded with an atmosphere, through which it is impossible for him to discover the true colours and figure of things. The persons that are near him, are in a cabal and conspiracy of their own ; and there is nothing about which tliey are more anxious, than to keep truth from approaching him. The man, who is not accessible to every comer, who delivers up his person into the custody of another, and may, for anything that he can tell, be precluded from that very intercourse and knowledge it is most important for him to possess, Avhatever name he may bear, is, in reality, a prisoner.

Whatever the arbitrary institutions of men may pretend, the more powerful institutions of our nature, forbid one man to transact the affairs, and provide for the welfare of millions. A king soon finds the necessity of intrusting his functions to the ad- ministration of his servants. He acquires the habit of seeing with their eyes, and acting with their hands. He finds the necessity of confiding implicitly iu their fidelity. Like a man long shut up in a dungeon, his organs are not strong enough to bear the irra- diation of truth. Accustomed to receive information of the feel- ings and sentiments of mankind, through the medium of another, he cannot bear directly to converse with business and affairs. Whoever would detach his confidence from his present favourites, and induce him to pass over again, in scrutiny, the principles and data which he has already adopted, requires of him too pain- ful a task. He hastens from his adviser, to communicate the accusation to his favourite ; and the tongue that has been accus- tomed to gain credit, easily varnishes over this new discovery. He flies from uncertainty, anxiety, and doubt, to his routine of amusements ; or amusement presents itself, is importunate to be received, and presently obliterates the tale that overspread his mind with melancholy and suspicion. Much has been said

PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE. 13

of intrigue and duplicity. They have been alleged to intrude themselves into the walks of commerce, to haunt the intercourse of men of letters, and to rend the petty concerns of a village with faction. But, wherever else they may be strangers, in courts they undoubtedly find a congenial climate. The intrusive tale- bearer, who carries knowledge to the ear of kings, is, within that circle, an object of general abhorrence. The favourite marks him for his victim ; and the inactive and unimpassioned temper of the monarch, soon resigns him to the vindictive importunity of his adversary. It is in tlie contemplation of these circumstances, that Fenelou has remarked, that " kings are the most unfortunate and the most misled of all human beings."*

But, in reality, were they in possession of purer sources of in- formation, it would be to little purpose. Royalty inevitably allies itself to vice. Virtue, in proportion as it has taken possession of any character, is just, consistent, and sincere. But kings, de- bauched from their birth, and ruined by their situation, cannot endure an intercourse witli these attributes. Sincerity, that would tell tliem of their errors, and remind them of their cowardice ; justice, that, uninfluenced by the trappings of ma- jesty, would estimate the man at his tnie desert; consistency, that no temptation would induce to part with its integrity ; are odious and intolerable in their eyes. From such intruders, tliey hasten to men of a pliant character, who will flatter their mis- takes, put a varnish on their actions, and be visited by no scruples in assisting the indulgence of their appetites. There is scarcely in human nature an inflexibility that can resist perpetual flattery and compliance. The virtues that grow up among us, are cultured in the open soil of equality, not in the artificial climate of greatness. We need the winds to harden, as much as the heat to cherish us. Many a mind, that promised well in its outset, has been found incapable to stand the test of perpetual indulgence and ease, without one shock to waken, and one calamity to stop it in its smooth career.

Monarchy is, in reality, so unnatural an institution, that man- kind have, at all times, strongly suspected it was unfriendly to their happiness. The power of truth, upon important topics, is such, that it may rather be said to be obscured, than obliterated ; and falsehood has scarcely ever been so successful, as not to have had a restless and powerful antagonist in the heart of its votaries. The man who with difficulty earns his scanty subsistence, cannot behold the ostentatious splendour of a king, without being visited by some sense of injustice. He inevitably questions, in his mind, the utility of an officer, whose services are hired at so enormous a price. If he consider the subject with any degree of accuracy, he is led to perceive, and that with sufficient surprise,

• "Lei plus malheureux et les plus accugles de tons les homines." Telemaque, Lit. XIII. More forcible and impressive description is scarcely aiipvhere to be found, thjm that of the evils inseparable from monarchlcsJ government, contained in this and the following book of Fenelon's work.

14 PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.

that a king is nothing more than a common mortal, exceeded by many, and equalled by more, in every requisite of strength, capa- city, and virtue. He feels therefore that nothing can be more grotmdless and unjust, than the supposing that one such man as this, is the fittest and most competent instrument for regulating the affairs of nations.

These reflections are so unavoidable, tliat kings themselves have often been aware of the danger to their imaginary happiness with which they are pregnant. They have sometimes been alarmed with the progress of thinking, and oftener regarded the ease and prosperity of their subjects as a source of terror and apprehension. They justly consider their functions, as a sort of public exhibition, the success of which depends upon the credulity of the spectators, and which good sense and courage would speedily bring to con- tempt. Hence the well known maxims of monarchical govern- ment, that ease is the parent of rebellion ; and that it is necessary to keep the people in a state of poverty and endurance, in order to render them submissive. Hence it has been the perpetual complaint of despotism, that "the restive knaves are overrun with ease, and plenty ever is the nurse of faction."* Hence it has been the lesson perpetually read to monarchs : *' Render your subjects prosperous, and they will speedily refuse to labour ; they will become stubborn, proud, unsubmissive to the yoke, and ripe for revolt. It is impotence and penury alone, that will ren- der them supple, and prevent them from rebelling against the dictates of authority, "f

It is a common and vulgar observation that the state of a king is greatly to be pitied. "All his actions are hemmed in with anxiety and doubt. He cannot, like other men, indulge the gay and careless hilarity of his mind ; but is obliged, if he be of an honest and conscientious disposition, to consider how neces- sary the time, which he is thoughtlessly giving to amusement, may be, to the relief of a worthy and oppressed individual ; how many benefits might, in a thousand instances, result from his in- terference ; how many a guileless and undesigning heart might be cheered by his justice. The conduct of kings is a subject for the severest criticism, which the nature of their situation disables them to encounter. A thousand things are done in their name in which they have no participation ; a thousand stories are so dis- guised to their ear, as to render the truth undiscoverable ; and the king is the general scape-goat, loaded with the ofiences of all his dependents."

No picture can be more just, judicious, and humane, than that ■which is thus exhibited. Why then should the advocates of anti- monarchical principles be considered as the enemies of kings ? They would relieve them from " a load would sink a navy, too

• Jaue Shore, Act III.

+ "Si vous mettez les peuples dam Vabondance, ils ne travailleront plm. Us deviendront Jiers, indocilei, ei feront toujours prits dfe revoUer: tl n'y

OP A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM. 15

much honour,"* They would exalt them to tlie happy and enviable condition of private individuals. In reality, nothing can be more iniquitous and cruel, than to impose upon a man the un- natural office of a king. It is not less inequitable towards him that exercises it, than towards them who are subjected to it. Kings, if they understood their own interests, would be the JSrst to espouse these principles, the most eager to listen to them, the most fervent in expressing their esteem of the men who undertake to impress upon their species this important truth.

CHAP. IV.

OF A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM.

Supposed excellence of ihu form of government controverted—from the narrowness of human powers. — Case of a vicious administration — of a virtuous administration intended to be formed. — Monarchy not adapted to the government of large states.

There is a principle, frequently maintained upon this subject,t which is entitled to impartial consideration. It is granted, by those who espouse it, " that absolute monarchy, from the imper- fection of those by whom it is administered, is, for the most part, productive of evil;" but they assert, "that it is the best and most desirable of all forms under a good and virtuous prince. It is exposed," say they, "to the fate of all excellent natures, and, from the best thing, frequently, if corrupted, becomes the worst.'* This remark is certainly not very decisive of the general question, so long as any weight shall be attributed to the arguments, which have been adduced, to evince what sort of character and disposi- tion may be ordinarily expected in princes. It may however be allowed, if true, to create in the mind a sort of partial retrospect, to this happy and perfect despotism ; and, if it can be shown to be false, it will render the argument for the abolition of mo- narchy, so far as it is concerned, more entire and complete.

Now, whatever dispositions any man may possess in favour of the welfare of others, two things are necessary to give them validity ; discernment and power. I can promote the welfare of a few persons, because I can be sufficiently informed of their circumstances. I can promote the welfare of many in certain general articles, because, for this purpose, it is only necessary,

o que lafoiblesse et la misere qui les rendent souples, et qui les empSchent dt roister d Vautorite" Telemaque, Liv, XJII,

• Shakespere : Henry the Eighth, Act III.

♦ Sec Tom Jones, Book XII., Chap. XII.

16 OF A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM.

that I should be informed of the nature of the human miiid as such, not of the personal situation of the individuals concerned. But for one man to undertake to administer the affairs of millions, to supply, not general principles and perspicuous reasoning, but particular application, and measures adapted to the necessities of the moment, is of all undertakings the most extravagant and absurd.

The most simple and obvious system of practical administra- tion, is for each man to be the arbiter of his OAvn concerns. If the imperfection, the narrow views, and the mistakes of human beings, render this, in certain cases, inexpedient and impractica- ble, the next resource is to call in the opinion of his peers, persons who, from their vicinity, may be presumed to have some general knowledge of the case, and who have leisure and means minutely to investigate the merits of the question. It cannot reasonably be doubted, that the same expedient which is resorted to in our civil and criminal concerns, would, by plain and imin- structed mortals, be adopted in the assessment of taxes, in the deliberations of commerce, and in every other article in which their common interests were involved, only generalising the de- liberative assembly, or pannel, in proportion lo the generality of the question to be decided.

Monarchy, instead of referring every question to the persons concerned or their neighbours, refers it to a single individual, placed at the greatest distance possible from the ordinary mem- bers of the society. Instead of distributing the causes to be judged, into as many parcels as convenience would admit, for the sake of providing leisure and opportunities of examination, it draws them to a single centre, and renders enquiry and examina- tion impossible. A despot, however virtuously disposed, is obliged to act in the dark, to derive his knowledge from other men's information, and to execute his decisions by other men's instru- mentality. Monarchy seems to be a species of government pro- scribed by the nature of man ; and those persons, who furnished their despot with integrity and virtue, forgot to add omniscience and omnipotence, qualities not less necessary to fit him for the office they had provided.

Let us suppose this honest and incon-uptible despot to be served by ministers, avaricious, hypocritical, and interested. What will the people gain by the good intentions of their mo- narch ? He will mean them the greatest benefits, but he will be altogether unacquainted with their situation, their character, and their wants. The information he receives, will frequently be the very revei-se of the truth. He will be taught that one individual is highly meritorious, and a proper subject of reward, whose only 'merit is the profligate servility with which he has fulfilled the purposes of his administration. He will be taught that another is the pest of the community, who is indebted for this report, to the steady virtue with which he has traversed and defeated the wickedness of government. He will mean the gieatest benefits

OF A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM. 17

to liis people ; but, -when he prescribes something calculated for their advantage, his servants, luider pretence of complying, shall, in reality, perpetrate diametrically the reverse. Nothing will be more dangerous, than to endeavour to remove the obscurity with which his ministers surround him. The man, who attempts so hardy a task, will become the incessant object of their hatred. However incorruptible may be the justice of the sovereign, the time will come when his observation will be laid asleep, while malice and revenge are ever vigilant. Could he vmfold the secrets of his prison-houses of state, he would find men com- mitted in his name, whose crimes he never knew, whose names he never heard of, perhaps men whom he honoiired and esteemed. Such is the history of the benevolent and philanthropic despots whom memory has recorded ; and the conclusion from the whole is, that, wherever despotism exists, there it will always be at- tended with the evils of despotism, capricious measures and arbitrary infliction.

"But will not a wise king provide himself with good and virtuous servants ?" Undoubtedly he wall effect a part of this, but he cannot supersede the nature of things. He that executes an office as a deputy, will never discharge it in the same spirit, as if he were the principal. Either tlie minister must be the author of the plans which he carries into effect, and then it is of little consequence, except so far as relates to his integrity in the choice of his servants, what sort of mortal the sovereign shall be found ; or he must play a subordinate part, and then it is impossible to transfuse into his mind the perspicacity and energy of his master. Wherever despotism exists, it cannot remain in a single hand, but must be transmitted whole and entire through the progressive links of authority. To render despotism auspicious and benign, it is necessary, not only that the sovereign should possess every human excellence, but that all his officers should be men of penetrating genius and unspotted virtue. If they fall short of this, they will, like the ministers of Elizabeth, be sometimes specious profligates,* and sometimes men, who, however admi- rably adapted for the technical emergencies of business, consult, on many occasions exclusively, their private advantage, worship the rising sun, enter into vindictive cabals, and cuff down new- fledged merit.+ "Wherever tlie continuity is broken, the flood of vice will bear down all before it. One weak or disingenuous man will be the source of unbounded mischief.

Another position, not less generally asserted than the desirable- ness of a virtuous despotism, is, " that republicanism is a species of government practicable only in a small state, while monarchy is best fitted to embrace the concerns of a vast and flourishing empire." The reverse of this, so far at least as relates ta

• Dudley, Earl of Leicester.

t Cecil Earl of SaUsbury, lord treasurer; Howard, Earl of Nottingham, lord admiral, &c.

17.— VOL. II. c

IB OF COURTS AND MINISTERS.

monarcliy appears, at first sight to be the truth. The competence of any government cannot be measured by a purer standard, than the extent and accuracy of its information. In this respect monarchy appears in all cases to be wretchedly deficient ; but, if it can ever be admitted, it must surely be in those narrow and limited instances, where an individual can, with least absurdity, be supposed to be acquainted with the affairs and interests of the -whole.*

CHAP. V.

OF COURTS AND MINISTERS.

Systematical monopoly of confidence, — Character of ministers and their dependents. — Duplicity of courts. — Venality and corruption, — Uni- versality of this principle.

We shall be better enabled to judge of the dispositions, with which information is communicated, and measures are executed, in monarchical countries, if we reflect upon another of the ill consequences attendant upon this species of government, the exist- ence and corruption of courts.

The character of this, as well as of every other human institu- tion, arises out of the circumstances with which it is surrounded. Ministers and favourites are a sort of people who have a state prisoner in their custody, the whole management of whose tmder- standing and actions they can easily engross. This they com- pletely efiect with a weak and credulous master, nor can tlie most cautious and penetrating entirely elude their machinations. They unavoidably desire to continue in the administration of his functions, whether it be emolument, or the love of homage, or any more generous motive, by which they are attached to it. But, the more tliey are confided in by the sovereign, the greater will be the permanence of their situation ; and, the more exclu- sive is their possession of his ear, the more implicit will be his confidence. The wisest of mortals are liable to error ; the most judicious projects are open to specious and superficial objections ; and it can rarely happen but a minister will find his ease and security, in excluding, as much as possible, other and opposite advisers, whose acuteness and ingenuity are perhaps additionally whetted, by a desire to succeed to his office.

Ministers become a sort of miniature kings in their turn. Though they have the greatest opportunity of observing the impotence and unmeaningness of the character, they envy it. It is their trade perpetually to extol the dignity and importance of the master they serve; and men cannot long and anxiously endeavour to convince others of tlie truth of any proposition,

• Paine's Letter to the Republican.

OF COURTS AND MINISTERS. 19

•without becoming half convinced of it tlieinselves. They feel themselves dependent for all that tliey most ardently desire, upon this man's arbitrary will ; but a sense of inferiority, is perhaps the never failing parent of emulation or envy. They assimilate themselves therefore, of choice, to a man, to whose circumstances their own are considerably similar.

In reality the requisites, Avithout which monarchical govern- ment cannot be preserved in existence, are by no means suffici- ently supplied by the mere intervention of ministers. There must be the ministers of ministers, and a long bead-roll of subordina- tion, descending by tedious and complicated steps. Each of these, lives on the smile of the minister, as he lives on the smile of the sovereign. Each of these has his petty interests to manage, and his empire to employ mider the guise of servility. Each imitates the vices of his superior, and exacts from others the adulation he is obliged to pay.

It has already appeared that a king is necessarily, and almost unavoidably a despot in his heart.* He has been used to hear those things only which were adapted to give him pleasure j and it is with a grating and uneasy sensation, that he listens to com- munications of a different sort. He has been used to unhesitating compliance ; and it is with difficulty he can digest expostulation and opposition. Of consequence the honest and virtuous cha- racter, whose principles are clear and unshaken, is least qualified for his service ; he must either explain away the severity of his principles, or he must give place to a more crafty and temporising politician. The temporising politician expects the same pliability in others that he exhibits in himself; and the fault which he can least forgive, is an ill-timed and inauspicious scrupulosity.

Expecting tliis compliance from all the coadjutors and instru- ments of his designs, he soon comes to set it up, as a standard, by which to judge of tlie merit of other men. He is deaf to every recommendation, but that of a fitness for the secret service of government, or a tendency to promote his interest, and extend the sphere of his influence. The worst man, with this argument in his favour, will seem worthy of encouragement ; the best man, who has no advocate but virtue to plead for him, will be treated with superciliousness and neglect. The genuine criterion of human desert can scarcely indeed be superseded and reversed. Bat it will appear to be reversed, and appearance will produce many of the effects of reality. To obtain honour, it will be thought necessary to pay a servile court to administration, to bear, with unaltered patience, their contumely and scorn, to flatter their vices, and render ourselves useful to their private gratification. To obtain honour it Avill be thought necessary, by assiduity and intrigue, to make ourselves a party, to procure the recommendation of lords, and the good word of women of plea- sure, and clerks in office. To obtain honour it will be thought neces-

• p. II

c 2

20 OF COURTS AND MINISTERS.

sary to merit disgrace. The wliole scene consists in hollowness, duplicity, and falsehood. The minister speaks fair to the man he despises, and the slave pretends a generous attachment, while he tliinks of nothing but his personal interest. That these principles are interspersed under the worst governments, with occasional deviations into better, it would be folly to deny ; that they do not form the great prevailing features, wherever a court and a monarch are to be found, it would be madness to assert.

There is one feature above all others, which has never escaped the most superficial delineator of the manners of a court ; I mean, the profound dissimulation which is there cultivated. The min- ister has, in the first place, to deceive the sovereign, continually to pretend to feel whatever his master feels, to ingratiate himself by an uniform insincerity, and to make a show of the most unre- served affection and attachment. His next duty, is to cheat his dependents and the candidates for office ; to keep them in a per- petual fever of desire and expectation. Recollect the scene of a ministerial levee. To judge by the external appearance, we should suppose this to be the chosen seat of disinterested kindness. All that is erect and decisive in man, is shamelessly snTrendered. No professions of submission can be so base, no forms of adula- tion so extravagant, but that they are eagerly practised by these voluntary prostitutes. Yet it is notorious that, in this scene above all others, hatred has fixed its dAvelling ; jealousy rankles in every breast ; and the most of its personages would rejoice in the opportunity of ruining each other for ever. Here it is that promises, protestations, and oaths, are so wantonly multiplied, as almost to have lost their meaning. There is scarcely a man so weak, as, when he has received a court promise, not to tremble, lest it should be found as false and unsubstantial by him, as it has proved to so many others.

At length, by the constant practice of dissimulation, the true courtier comes to be unable to distinguish, among his own senti- ments, the pretended from the real. He arrives at such profi- ciency in his art, as to have neither passions nor attachments. Personal kindness, and all consideration for the merit of others, are swallowed up in a narrow and sordid ambition ; not that generous ambition for the esteem of mankind, which reflects a sort of splendour upon vice itself, but an ambition of selfish gratification and illiberal intrigue. Such a man has bid a long farewell to every moral restraint, and thinks his purposes cheaply promoted by the sacrifice of honour, sincerity, and justice. His chief study and greatest boast are to be impenetrable ; that no man shall be able to discover what he designs ; that, though you discourse with him for ever, he shall constantly elude your de- tection. Consummate in his art, he will often practice it without excuse or necessity. Thus history records her instances of the profuse kindness and endearment, with which monarchs have treated those they had already resolved to destroy. A gratuitoTis pride seems to have been placed, in exhibiting the last refinement

OF COURTS AND MINISTERS. 21

of profligacy and deceit. Ministers of this character are the mortal enemies of virtue in others. A cabal of such courtiers is in the utmost degree deadly. They destroy by secret ways, that give no warning, and leave no trace. If they have to do with a blunt, just man who knows no disguise, or a generous spirit that scorns to practise dissimulation and artifice, they mark him their certain victim. No good or liberal character can escape their machinations ; and the immorality of the coiu-t, which throws into shade all other wickedness, spreads its contagion through the land, and emasculates the sentiments of the most populous nation..

A fundamental disadvantage in monarchical government, is, that it renders things of the most essential importance, subject, through successive gradations, to the caprice of individuals. The suffrage of a body of electors, will always bear a resemblance, more or less remote, to the public sentiment. The suffrage of an individual will depend upon caprice, personal convenience, or pecuniary corruption. If the king be himself inaccessible to injustice, if the minister disdain a bribe, yet the fundamental evil remains, that kings and ministers, fallible themselves, must, upon a thousand occasions, depend upon the recommendation of others^ Who will answer for these, through all their classes, ofticers of state, and deputies of office, humble friends, and officious valets, wives and daughters, concubines and confessors ?

It is supposed by many, that the existence of permanent here- ditary distinction, is necessary to the maintenance of order, among beings so imperfect as the human species. But it is allowed by all, tliat permanent hereditary distinction is a fiction of policy, not an ordinance of immutable truth. Wherever it exists, the human mind, so far as relates to political society, is prevented from settling upon its ti-ue foundation. There is a con- stant struggle, between the genuine sentiments of the understand- ing, which tell us that all this is an imposition, and the imperi- ous voice of government, which bids us reverence and obey. In this unequal contest, alarm and apprehension will perpetually haunt the minds of those who exercise usurped power. In this artificial state of man, powerful engines must be employed to pre- vent him from rising to his true level. It is the business of the governors to persuade the governed, that it is their interest to be slaves. They have no other means by which to create this ficti- tious interest, but those which they derive from the perverted understandings, and burdened property of the public, to be returned in titles, ribbands, and bribes. Hence that system of imiversal corruption, without which monarchy could not exist.

It has sometimes been supposed that corruption is particularly incident to a mixed government. "In such a government the people possess a portion of freedom ; privilege finds its place as well as prerogative ; a certain sturdiness of manner, and con- sciousness of independence, are the natives of these countries. The country-gentleman will not abjme the dictates of his judg- ment without a valuable consideration. There is here more than

22 OF COURTS AKD MINISTERS.

one road to success ; popular favour is as sure a means of advancement as courtly patronage. In despotic countries the people may be driven like sheep ; however unfortunate is their condition, they knoAv no other, and they submit to it as an inevit- able calamity. Their characteristic feature is a torpid dulness, in ■which all the energies of man are forgotten. But, in a coimtry calling itself free, the minds of the inhabitants are in a perturbed and restless state, and extraordinary means must be employed to calm their vehemence." It has sometimes happened, to men whose hearts have been pervaded with the love of virtue, of which pecuniary prostitution is the most odious corruption, to prefer, while they have contemplated this picture, an acknow- ledged despotism, to a state of specious and imperfect liberty.

But the picture is not accurate. As much of it as relates to a mixed government, mast be acknowledged to be true. But the features of despotism are too favourably touched. Whether privi- lege be conceded by the forms of the constitution or no, a whole nation cannot be kept ignorant of its force. No people were ever yet so sunk in stupidity, as to imagine one man, because he bore the appellation of a king, literally equal to a million. In a whole nation, as monarchical nations at least must be expected to be constituted, there will be nobility and yeomanry, rich and poor. There will be persons who, by their situation, their wealth, or their talents, form a middle rank between the monarch and the vulgar, and who, by their confederacies and their intrigues, can hold the throne in awe. These men must be bought or defied. There is no disposition that clings so close to despotism, as inces- sant terror and alarm. What else gave biitli to the armies of spies, and the numerous state prisons under the old government of France ? The eye of the tjTant is never closed. How numer- ous are the precautions and jealousies that these terrors dictate ? No man can go out, or come into the country, but he is watched. The press must issue no productions that have not the imprimatur of government. All coffee-houses, and places of public resort, are objects of attention. Twenty people cannot be collected together, unless for the purposes of superstition, but it is im- mediately suspected that they maybe confering about their rights. Is it to be supposed, that, where the means of jealousy are employed, the means of corruption will be forgotten ? Were it so indeed, the case would not be much improved. No picture can be more disgustful, no state of mankind more depressing, than that, in which a whole nation is held in obedience, by the mere operation of fear, in which all that is most eminent among them, and that should give example to the rest, is prevented, under the severest penalties, from expressing its real sentiments, and, by necessary consequence, from forming any sentiments that are worthy to be expressed. But, in reality, fear was never the only instrument employed for these purposes. No tyrant was ever so unsocial, as to have no confederates in his guilt. This monstrous edifice will always be found supported by all the various instru- t

OF SUBJECTS. 23

ments for perverting the human character, severity, menaces, blandishments, professions, and bribes. To this it is, in a great degree, owing, that monarchy is so costly an establishment. It is the business of the despot to distribute his lottery of seduction into as many prizes as possible. Among the consequences of a pecuniary polity these are to be reckoned the foremost, that every man is supposed to have his price, and that, the corrruption being managed in an underhand manner, many a man, who appears a patriot, may be really an hireling ; by which means virtue itself is brought into discredit, is either regarded as mere folly and ro- mance, or observed with doubt and suspicion, as the cloak of vices, which are only the more humiliating the more they are concealed.

CHAP. VI.

OF SUBJECTS.

Monarchy founded in imposture. — Ki7igs not entitled to superiority — inadequate to the functions they possess. — Means by which the im- posture is maintained — 1, splendour — 2, exaggeration. — This im- posture generates — 1 , indifference to merit — 2, indifference to truth — 3, artificial desires — 4, pusillanimity. — Moral incredulity of mo- narchical coujitries. — Injustice of luxury — of the inoi-dhmte admira- tion of wealth.

Let us proceed to consider the moral effects, which the institu- tion of monarchical government is calculated to produce, upon the inhabitants of the countries in which it flourishes. And here it must be laid down as a first principle, that monarchy is founded in imposture. It is false, that kings are entitled to the eminence they obtain. They possess no intrinsic superiority over their sub- jects. The line of distinction that is drawn, is the offspring of pretence, an indirect means employed for effecting certain pur- poses, and not the language of truth. It tramples upon the genuine nature of things, and depends for its support upon this argument, "that, were it not for impositions of a similar nature, mankind would be miserable."

Secondly, it is false that kings can discharge the functions of royalty. They pretend to superintend the affairs of millions, and they are necessarily unacquainted with these affairs. The senses of kings are constructed like those of other men: they can neither see nor hear what is transacted in their absence. They pretend to administer the affairs of millions, and they possess no such supernatural powers, as should enable them to act at a dis- tance. They are nothing of what they would persuade us to believe them. The king is often ignorant of that, of which half

24 OF SUBJECTS.

tlie inhabitants of his dominions are informed. His prerogatives are administered by others, and the lowest clerk in office is fre- quently, to this and that individual, more elicctually the sovereign, than the king himself. He is wholly unacquainted with what is solemnly transacted in his name.

To conduct this imposture with success, it is necessary to bring over to its party our eyes and our ears. Accordingly kings are always exhibited, with all the splendour of ornament, attend- ance, and equipage. They live amidst a sumptuousness of ex. pence; and this, not merely to gratify their appetites, but as a necessary instrument of policy. The most tatal opinion that could lay hold upon the minds of their subjects is, that kings are but men. Accordingly, they are carefully withdrawn from the profaneness of vulgar inspection ; and, when they are shown to ihe public, it is with every artihce that may dazzle our sense, and mislead our judgment.

The imposture does not stop with our eyes, but addresses itself to our ears. Hence the inflated style of regal formality. The name of the king everywhere obtrudes itself upon us. It would seem as if everything in the country, the lands, the houses, the fiu-niture, and the inhabitants, were his property. Our estates, are the king's dominions. Our bodies and minds, are his sub- jects. Our representatives, are his parliament. Our courts of Jaw, are his deputies. AH magistrates, throughout the realm, are the king's officers. His name occupies the foremost place in all statutes and decrees. He is the prosecutor of every criminal. He is " Our Sovereign Lord the King." Were it possible that "he should die, " the fountain of our blood, the means by which we live," would be gone : every political function would be suspended. It is therefore one of the fundamental principles of monarchical government, that " the king cannot die." Our moral principles accommodate themselves to our veracity : and, accordingly, the sum of our political duties (the most important of ail duties, _) is loyalty; to be true and faithful to the king; to honour a man whom, it may be, we ought to despise; and to obey ; that is, to convert our shame into our pride, and to be ostentatious of the surrender of our own understandings. The morality of adults in this situation, is copied from the basest part of the morality sometim.es taught to children ; and the perfection of virtue is placed, in blind compliance, and unconditional sub- mission.

What must be the effects of this machine upon the moral prin- ciples of mankind ? Undoubtedly we cannot trifle with the principles of morality and truth, with impunity. However gravely the imposture may be carried on, it is impossible but that the real state of the case should be strongly suspected. Man in a state of society, if undebauched by falsehoods like these, which confound the nature of right and wrong, is not ignorant of what it is in which merit consists. He knows that one man is not superior to another, except so fai- as he is wiser or better.

OF SUBJECTS. 25

Accordingly these are the distinctions to which he aspires for himself. These are the qualities he honours and applauds in another, and which therefore the feelings of each man instigate his neighbours to acquire. But what a revolution is introduced among these original and undebauched sentiments, by the arbi- trary distinctions which monarchy engenders ? We still retain in our minds the standard of merit : but it daily grows more feeble and powerless ; we are persuaded to think that it is of no real use in the transactions of the world, and presently lay it aside as Utopian and visionary.

Nor is this the whole of the injurious consequences produced, by the hyperbolical pretensions of monarchy. There is a simpli- city in truth that refuses alliance wath this impudent mysticism. No man is entirely ignorant of the nature of man. He will not indeed be incredulous to a degree of energy and rectitude, that may exceed the standard of his preconceived ideas. But for one man to pretend to think and act for a nation of his fellows, is so preposterous, as to set credibility at defiance. Is he persuaded that tlie imposition is salutary ? He willingly assumes the right of introducing similar falsehoods into his private affairs. He be- comes convinced, that veneration for truth, is to be classed among our errors and prejudices, and that, so far from being, as it pretends to be, in all cases salutary, it would lead, if ingeniously practised, to the desti-uction of mankind.

Again, if kings were exhibited simply as they are in them- selves to the inspection of mankind, the " salutary prejudice," as it has been called,* which teaches us to venerate them, would speedily be extinct : it has therefore been found necessary to sur- round them with luxury and expense. Thus luxury and expense are made the standard of honour, and of consequence the topics of anxiety and envy. However fatal this sentiment may be to tlie morality and happiness of mankind, it is one of those illu- sions which monarchical government is eager to cherish. In reality, the first principle of virtuous feeling, as has been else- where said,t is the love of independence. He that would be just, must, before all things, estimate the objects about him at theii" true value. But the principle in regal states has been, to think your father the wisest of men, because he is your father, :j: ojid your king the foremost of his species, because he is a king. The standard of intellectual merit, is no longer the man, but his title. To be drawn in a coach of state by eight milk-white

• Burke's Keflections. t P. 5.

t " The persons whom you ought to love infinitely more than me, are those to whom you are indebted for your existence." " Their conduct ought to regulate yours and be the standard of your sentiments." " The respect we owe to our father and mother is a sort of tcorship, as the phrase Jilted ■piety implies." " Ce que vous devez aimer avant moi sans attcune comparai- scn, ce sont ceux a qui rous devcic la vie." " Leur conduite doit regler la rotre et fixer votre opinion." " Le respect que nous derons a notrepere et d notre mere est un culte, cotnme Vexprime le mot pi6t6 filiale." Leqons d'antf Goutemante, Tome I.

26 OF SUBJECTS.

horses, is the highest of all human claims to our veneration. The same principle inevitably runs tlirough every order of the state, and men desire wealth under a monarchical government, for the same reason that, under other circumstances, they would have desired virtue.

Let us suppose an individual who by severe labour earns a scanty subsistence, to become, by accident or curiosity, a spec- tator of the pomp of a royal progress. Is it possible that he should not mentally apostrophise this elevated mortal, and ask, " What has made thee to differ from me ?" If no such sentiment pass through his mind, it is a proof that the corrupt institutions of society have already divested him of all sense of justice. The more simple and direct is his character, the more certainly will these sentiments occur. What answer shall we return to his enquiry ? That the well being of society, requires men to be treated otherwise than according to their intrinsic merit ? Whether he be satisfied with this answer or no, will he not aspire to pos- sess that (which in this instance is wealth), to which the policy of mankind has annexed such high distinction ? Is it not indis- pensable, that, before he believes in the rectitude of this institu- tion, his original feelings of right and wrong should be wholly reversed ? If it be indispensable, then let the advocate of the monarchical system ingenuously declare, that, according to that system, the interest of society, in the first instance, requires the subversion of all principles of moral truth and justice.

With tliis view let us again recollect the maxim adopted in monarchical countries, " that the king never dies." Thus, with true oriental extravagance, we salute this imbecile mortal, " O king, live for ever!" Why do we this? Because upon his existence the existence of the state depends. In his name the courts of law are opened. If his political capacity be suspended for a moment, the centre to which all public business is linked, is destroyed. In such countries everything is uniform : the cere- mony is all, and the substance nothing. In the riots in the year 1780, the mace of the house of lords was proposed to be sent into the passages, by the terror of its appearance to quiet the con- fusion ; but it was obsen-ed that, if the mace should be rudely detained by the rioters, the whole would be thro^vn into anarchy. Business would be at a stand; their insignia, and, with their insignia, their legislative and deliberative functions, would be gone. Who can expect firmness and energy in a country, where everything is made to depend, not upon justice, public interest, and reason, but upon a piece of gilded wood ? What conscious dignity and virtue can there be among a people, who, if deprived of the imaginary guidance of one vulgar mortal, are taught to believe that their faculties ai-e benumbed, and all tlieir joints unstrung ?

Lastly, one of the most essential ingredients in a wtuous character, is undaunted firmness ; and nothing can more power- fully tend to destroy this principle than the spirit of a monarcM-

OF SUBJECTS. 27

cal government. The first lesson of virtue is, Fear no man ; the first lesson of such a constitution is, Fear the king. The true interest of man, requires the annihilation of factitious and ima- ginary distinctions ; it is inseparable from monarchy to support and render them more palpable than ever. He that cannot speak to the proudest despot, with a consciousness that he is a man speaking to a man, and a determination to yield him no superi- ority to which his inherent qualifications do not entitle him, is wholly incapable of an illustrious virtue. How many such men. are bred within the pale of monarchy ? How long would mo- narchy maintain its ground in a nation of such men ? Surely it would be wisdom in society, instead of conjuring up a thousand phantoms to seduce us into error, instead of surrounding us with a thousand fears to deprive us of energy, to remove every obstacle to our progress, and smooth the path of improvement.

Virtue was never yet held in much honour and esteem in a monarchical country. It is the inclination and the interest of coiurtiers and kings, to bring it into disrepute ; and they are but too successful in the attempt. Virtue is, in their conception, arrogant, intrusive, unmanageable, and stubborn. It is an as- sumed outside, by which those who pretend to it, intend to gratify their rude tempers, or their secret views. WitJiin the circle of monarchy, virtue is always regarded with dishonourable incredu- lity. The philosophical system, which affirms self-love to be the first mover of all our actions, and the falsity of human virtues, is the growth of these countries.* Why is it that the language of integrity and public spirit is constantly regarded among us as hypocrisy ? It was not always thus. It was not till the usurpa- tion of Csesar, that books were written, by the tyrant and his partisans, to prove that Cato was no better than a snarling pre- tender.f

There is a further consideration, which has seldom been ad- verted to upon. this subject, but which seems to be of no inconsi- derable importance. In our definition of justice, it appeared, that oiir debt to our fellow men, extended to all the efforts we could make for their welfare, and all the relief we could supply to their necessities. Not a talent do we possess, not a moment of time, not a shilling of property, for which we are not responsible at the tribunal of the public, which we are not obliged to pay into the general bank of common advantage. Of every one of these things there is an employment which is best, and that best justice obliges us to select. But how extensive is the conse- quence of this principle, with respect to the luxuries and ostenta- tion of human life ? How many of these luxiiries are there, that would stand the test, and approve tliemselves, upon examination, to be the best objects upon which our property could be em-

* Maximes, par M. le Due de la BochefoucauU : De la Faussete des Fertus Humaines, par M. Esprit.

t See Plutarch's Lives ; Lives of Caesar and Cicero : CiceroJW Epitileee ad Atticum, Lib. XII. Epist, zl., xli.

28 OF SUBJECTS.

ployed ? Will it often come out to be true, that hundreds of individuals ought to be subjected to the severest and most inces- sant labour, that one man may spend in idleness, what ■would afford to the general mass, ease, leisure, and consequently wisdom ? Whoever frequents the habitations of the luxurious, will speedily be infected with the vices of luxury. The ministers and attend- ants of a sovereign, accustomed to the trappings of magnificence, will turn with disdain, from the merit that is obscured with the clouds of adversity. In vain may virtue plead, in vain may talents solicit distinction, if poverty seem, to the fastidious sense of the man in place, to envelop them, as it were, with its noisome effluvia. The very lacquey knows how to repel unfortunate merit from the great man's door.

Here then we are presented with the lesson which is, loudly and perpetually, read, tlu-ough all the haunts of monarchy. Money is the great requisite, for the want of which nothing can atone. Distinction, the homage and esteem of mankind, are to be bought, not earned. The rich man need not trouble himself to invite them, they come unbidden to his surly door. Rarely indeed does it happen, that there is any crime that gold cannot expiate, any baseness and meanness of character that wealth can- not shroud in oblivion. Money therefore is the only object worthy of your pursuit, and it is of little importance by what sinister and unmanly means, so it be but obtained.

It is true that virtue and talents do not stand in need of the great man's assistance, and might, if they did but know their worth, repay his scorn with a just and enlightened pity. But, unfortunately, they are often ignorant of their strength, and adopt the errors they see universally espoused. Were it otherwise, they would indeed be happier, but the general manners would perhaps remain the same. The general manners are fashioned by the form and spirit of the national government ; and, if, in extraordinary cases, they cease to yield to the mould, they speedily change the form to which they fail to submit.

The evils indeed that arise out of avarice, an inordinate admi- ration of wealth, and an intemperate pursuit of it, are so obvious, that they have constituted a i^erpetual topic of lamentation and complaint. The object in this place, is to consider how far they are extended and aggravated, by a monarchical government, that is, by a constitution, the very essence of which, is to accumulate enormous wealth upon a single head, and to render the ostenta- tion of splendour the established instrument for securing honour and veneration. The object is to consider in what degree the luxury of courts, the effeminate softness of favourites, the system, never to be separated from the monarchical form, of putting men's approbation and good word at a price, of individuals buying the favour of government, and government buying the favour of individuals, is injurious to the moral improvement of mankind. As long as the imvarying practice of courts is cabal, and as long as the unvarying tendency of cabal is to bear down talents, and

OF ELECTIVE MONARCHY. 29

discourage virtue, to recommend cumiing in the room of sin- cerity, a servile and supple disposition in preference to firmness and inflexibility, a pliant and selfish morality as better than an ingenuous one, and the study of the red book of promotion rather than the study of the general welfare, so long will monarchy be the bitterest and most potent of all the adversaries of the true interests of mankind.

CHAP. VII.

OF ELECTIVE MONARCHY.

Disorders attendant on such aii election. — Election is intended either to provide a man of great or of moderate talents, — Consequences of the first — of the second, — Can elective and hereditary monarchy be combined ?

Having considered the nature of monarchy in general, it is incumbent on us to examine how far its mischiefs may be quali- fied, by rendering the monarchy elective.

One of the most obvious objections to this remedy, is the diffi- culty that attends upon the conduct of such an election. There are machines, that are too mighty for the human hand to conduct ; tliere are proceedings, that are too gigantic and unweildly for human institutions to regulate. The distance, between the mass of mankind, and a sovereign, is so immense, the trust to be con- fided so incalculably great, the temptations of the object to be decided on so alluring, as to set every passion that can vex the mind, in tumultuous conflict. Election will therefore either dwindle into an empty form, a congt d'cUre with the successful candidate's name at full length in the conclusion, an election perpetually continued in the same family, perhaps in the same lineal order of descent ; or will become the signal of a thousand calamities, foreign cabal, and domestic war. These evils have been so generally imderstood, that elective monarchy, in the strict sense of that appellatfcn, has had very few advocates.

Rousseau, who, in his advice to the Polish nation, appears to be one of those few, tliat is, one of those who, without loving monarchy, conceive an elective sovereignty to be greatly prefer- able to an hereditary one, endeavours to provide against the disorders of an election, by introducing into it a species of sortition.* In another part of the present enquiry, it will be our business to examine how far chance, and the decision by lot, are compatible with the principles, either of sound morality, or

• Considerationt sur Is Gouvemement de Pologne, Chap. Fill.

30 OP ELECTIVE MONARCHY.

sober reason. For tlie present, it will be sufficient to say, that the project of Eousseau will probably fall under one part of lie following dilemma, and of consequence will be refuted, by the same arguments, that bear upon the mode of election in its most obvious idea.

The design with which election can be introduced into the constitution of a monarchy, must either be that of raising to the kingly office a man of surperlative talents and imcommon genius, or of providing a moderate portion of wisdom and good intention for these functions, and preventing them from falling into the hands of persons of notorious imbecility. To the first of these designs it will be objected by many, "that genius is frequently notlung more in the hands of its possessor, than an instrument for accomplishing the most pernicious intentions." And, though in this assertion ttere is much partial and mistaken exaggeration, it cannot however be denied, that genius, such as we find it amidst the present imperfections of mankind, is compatible with, very serious and essential errors. If then genius can, by temp- tations of various sorts, be led into practical mistake, may we not reasonably entertain a fear respecting the effect of that situation which is so singularly pregnant with temptation ? If considerations of inferior note be apt to mislead the mind, what shall we think of this most intoxicating draught, of a condition superior to restraint, stripped of all those accidents and vicissi- tudes from which the morality of human beings has flowed, with no salutary check, with no intellectual warfare, where mind meets mind on equal terms, but perpetually surrounded with sycophants, servants, and dependents? To suppose a mind in which genius and virtue are united and permanent is also un- doubtedly to suppose something, which no calculation will teach us to expect should offer upon every vacancy. And, if the man could be found, we must imagine to ourselves electors almost as virtuous as the elected, or else error and prejudice, faction and intrigue, will render his election at least precarious, perhaps im- probable. Add to this, that it is sufficiently evident, from the imalterable evils of monarchy already enumerated, and which we shall presently have occasion to recapitulate, that the first act of sovereignty in a virtuous monarch, whose discernment was equal to his virtue, Avould be to annihilate the constitution, wliich had raised him to a throne. •

But we will suppose the purpose of instituting an elective monarchy, not to be that of constantly filling the throne with a man of sublime genius, but merely to prevent the office from falling into the hands of a person of notorious imbecility. Such is the strange and pernicious nature of monarchy, that it may be doubted whetlier this be a benefit. Wherever monarchy exists, courts and administrations must, as long as men can see only with their eyes, and act only with their hands, be its constant attendants. But tliese have already appeared to be institutions so mischievous, that perhaps one of the greatest injuries that can

OP ELECTIVE MONARCHY. 31

be done to mankind, is to persuade them of their innocence. Under the most yirtuous despot, favour and intrigue, the unjust exaltation of one man, and depression of another, will not fail to exist. Under the most virtuous despot, the true spring there is in mind, the desire to possess merit, and the consciousness that merit will not fail to make itself perceived by those around it, and through their esteem to rise to its proper sphere, will be cut off ; and mean and factitious motives be substituted in its room. Of what consequence is it that my merit is perceived by mortals who have no power to advance it ? The monarch, shut ■up in his sanctuary, and surrounded with formalities, will never bear of it. How should he ? Can he know what is passing in the remote corners of his kingdom ? Can he trace the first ten- der blossoms of genius and virtue ? The people themselves will lose their discernment of these things, because they will perceive their discernment to be powerless in effects. The birth of mind is daily sacrificed by hecatombs to the genius of monarchy. The seeds of reason and truth become barren and unproductive in this unwholesome climate. And the example perpetually ex- hibited, of the preference of wealth and craft over integrity and talents, produces the most powerful effects upon that mass of mankind, who at first sight may appear least concerned in the objects of generous ambition. This mischief, to whatever it amounts, becomes more strongly fastened upon us, under a good monarch, than imder a bad one. In the latter case, it only restrains our efforts by violence ; in the former, it seduces our imderstandings. To palliate the defects and skin over the de- formity of what is fundamentally wrong, is certainly very peril- ous, perhaps very fatal to the best interests of mankind.

_ Meanwhile the ideas here suggested, should be listened to with diffidence and caution. Great doubts may well be entertained, respecting that benefit which is to be produced by vice and calamity. If I lived under an elective monarchy, I cettainly should not venture to give my vote to a fickle, intemperate or stupid candidate, in preference to a sober and moderate one. Yet may it not happen that a succession, such as that of Trajan, Adrian, and the Antonines, familiarising men to despotism, and preparing them to submit to the tyranny of their successors, may be fraught with more mischief than benefit ? It should seem that a mild and insiduous way, of reconciling mankuid to a calamity, before they are made to feel it, is a real and a heavy misfortune.

A question has been started, whether it be possible to blend elective and hereditary monarchy, and the constitution of Eng- land has been cited as an example of this possibility. "What was it that the parliament effected at the revolution, and when they settled the succession upon the house of Hanover ? They elected not an individual, but a new race of men to fill the throne of these kingdoms. They gave a practical instance of their power, upon extraordinary emergencies, to change the succession. At

32 OF LIMITED MONARCHY.

tlie same time however that they effected this in action, they denied it in words. They employed the strongest expressions that language could furnish, to bind themselves, their heirs and posterity, for ever, to adhere to this settlement. They considered the present as an emergence, which, taking into the account the precautions and restrictions they had provided, could never occur again.

In reality what sort of sovereignty is that, which is partly hereditaiy, and partly elective ? That the accession of a family, or race of men, should originally be a matter of election, has nothing particular in it. All government is founded in opinion ; and undoubtedly some sort of election, made by a body of electors more or less extensive, originated every new establish- ment. To whom, in this amphibious government, does the •sovereignty belong, upon the death of the first possessor ? To his heirs and descendants. What sort of choice shall tliat be considered, which is made of a man half a century before he begins to exist ? By what designation does he succeed ? Un- doubtedly by that of hereditary descent. A king of England therefore holds his crown independently, or, as it has been energetically expressed, "in contempt," of the choice of the people.*

CHAP VIII.

OF LIMITED MONARCHY.

Liable to most of the ■preceding objections — to further objections peculiar to itself. — Responsibility considered. — Maxim, that the king can do no icrong. — Functions of a limited monarch. — Impossibility of main- taining the neutrality required. — Of the dismission of ministers, — Responsibility of ministers — Appointment of ministers, its im- portance— its difficulties. — Recapitulation, — Strength and iceakness of the human species.

I PROCEED to consider monarchy, not as it exists in countries where it is unlimited and despotic, but, as in certain instances it has appeared, a branch merely of the general constitution.

Here it is only necessary to recollect the objections which applied to it in its unqualified state, in order to perceive that they bear upon it, with the same explicitness, if not with equal force, under every possible modification. Still the government is founded in falsehood, affirming that a certain individual is emi- nently qualified for an important situation, whose qualifications

• This argument is stated, with great copiousness, and irresistible force of reasoning, by Mr. Burke, towards the beginning of his Keflections on the Eevolution in France.

OP LIMITED MONARCHY. 33

are perhaps scarcely superior to those of the meanest member of the community. Still the goyernment is founded in injustice, because it rai&es one man, for a permanent duration, over the heads of the rest of the community, not for any moral recommend- ation he possesses, but arbitrarily and by accident. Still it reads a constant and powerful lesson of immorality to the people at large, exhibiting pomp, and splendour, and magnificence, instead of virtue, as the index to general veneration and esteem. The individual is, not less than in the most absolute monarchy, un- fitted by his education to become either respectable or useful. He is unjustly and cruelly placed in a situation that engenders ignorance, weakness, and presumption, after having been stripped in his infancy of all the energies that should defend him against their inroads. Finally, his existence implies that of a train of courtiers, and a series of intrigue, of servility, secret influence, capricious partialities, and pecuniary corruption. So true is the observation of Montesquieu,-that " we must not expect, under a monarchy, to find the people virtuous."*

But, if we consider the question more narrowly, we shall per- haps find, that limited monarchy has other absurdities and vices, which are peculiarly its own. In an absolute sovereignty, the king may, if he please, be his own minister ; but, in a limited one, a ministry and a cabinet are essential parts of the constitution. In an absolute sovereignty, princes are acknowledged to be responsi- ble only to God ; but, in a limited one, there is a responsibility of a very different nature. In a limited monarchy, there are checks, one branch of the government counteracting the excesses of another, and a check without responsibility, is the most flagrant contradiction.

There is no subject that deserves to be more maturely con- sidered, than this of responsibility. To be responsible, is to be liable to be called into an open judicature, where the accuser and the defendant produce their allegations and evidence on equal terms. Everything short of this, is mockery. Everything that ■would give to either party any other influence than that of truth and virtue, is subversive of the great ends of justice. He that is arraigned of any crime, must descend, a private individual, to the level plain of justice. If he can bias the sentiments of his judges by his possession of power, or by any compromise previous to Ixis resignation, or by the mere sympathy excited in his successors, who will not be severe in their censures, lest they should be treated witli severity in return, he cannot truly be said to be re- sponsible. From the honest insolence of despotism we may per- haps promise ourselves better effects, than from the hypocritical disclaimers of a limited government. Nothing can be more per- nicious than falsehood, and no falsehood can be more palpable, than that which pretends to put a weapon into the hands of the

• "II u'est pas rare quHl y ait des princes vertueux ; mais il est Ires uifficile dans une monarchic que le veuple Ic soil." Esprit des Loix, Liv. III., Chap. V. t i i' t

18.— VOL. 11. D

34 OF LIMITED MONARCHY.

general interest, ■which constantly proves blunt and powerless in the very act to strike.

It was a confused feeling of these truths, that introduced into limited monarchies the principle " that the king can do no wrong.'* Observe the peculiar consistency of this proceeding. Consider what a specimen it affords of plain dealing, frankness, and ingenu- ous sincerity. An individual is first appointed, and endowed with the most momentous prerogatives ; and then it is pretended that, not he, but other men, are answerable for the abuse of these pre- rogatives. This pretence may appear tolerable to men bred among the fictions of law; but justice, truth, and virtue, revolt from it with indignation.

Having first invented this fiction, it becomes the business of such constitutions, as nearly as possible, to realise it. A ministry must be regularly formed ; they must concert together ; and the measures they execute, must originate in their own discretion. The king must be reduced, as nearly as possible, to a cypher. So far as he fails to be completely so, the constitution must be imperfect.

What sort of figure is it that this miserable wretch exhibits in the face of the world ? Everything is, with great parade, trans- acted in his name. He assumes all the inflated and oriental Style which has been already described,* and which indeed was, upon that occasion, transcribed from the practice of a limited monarchy. We find him like Pharaoh's frogs, " in our houses, and upon our beds, in our ovens, and our kneading troughs."

Now observe tlie man himself, to whom all this importance is annexed. To be idle, is the abstract of his duties. He is paid an immense revenue only to hunt and to eat, to wear a scarlet lobe and a crown. He may not choose any one of his measures. He must listen with docility to the consultations of his ministers, and sanction, with a ready assent, whatever they determine. He must not hear any otlier advisers ; for they are his known and constitutional counsellors. He must not express to any man his opinion ; for that would be a sinister and unconstitutional interfe- rence. To be absolutely perfect, he must have no opinion, but be the vacant and colourless mirror by which theirs is reflected. He speaks ; for they have taught him what he should say : he affixes his signature ; for they inform him that it is necessary and proper.

A limited monarchy, in the articles we have described, might be executed with great facility and applause, if a king were, what such a constitution endeavours to render him, a mere puppet regulated by puUies and wires. But it is among the most egre- gious and palpable of all political mistakes, to imagine that we can reduce a human being to this neutrality and torpor. He will not exert any useful and true activity, but he will be far from passive. The more he is excluded from that energy that characterises wis-

» See above Chap. YI. p. 24.

OF LIMITED MONARCHY. 35

dom and virtue, the more depraved and unreasonable will he be in his caprices. Is any promotion vacant, and do we expect that he will never think of bestowing it on a favourite, or of proving, by an occasional election of his own, tliat he really exists ? This promotion may happen to be of the utmost importance to the public welfare ; or, if not — every promotion unmeritedly given, is pernicious to national virtue, and an upright minister will refuse to assent to it. A king does not fail to hear his power and prero- gatives extolled, and he will no doubt at some time wish to essay Sieir reality, in an unprovoked war against a foreign nation, or against his own citizens.

To suppose that a king and his ministers should, through a period of years, agree in their genuine sentiments upon every public topic is what human nature in no degree authorises. This is to attribute to the king talents, equal to those of the most en- lightened statesmen of his age, or at least to imagine him capable of understanding all their projects, and comprehending all their views. It is to suppose him iinspoUed by education, undebauched by rank, and with a mind disposed to receive the impartial lessons of truth.

" But if they disagree, the king can choose other ministers." We shall presently have occasion to consider this prerogative in a general view ; let us for the present examine it, in its application to the differences that may occur, between the sovereign and his servants. It is an engine for ever suspended over the heads of the latter, to persuade tliem to depart from the singleness of their integrity. The compliance that the king demands from them, is perhaps, at first but small; and the minister, strongly pressed, thinks it better to sacrifice his opinion, in this inferior point, than to sacrifice his office. One compliance of this sort leads on to another, and he that began, perhaps only with the preference of an unworthy candidate lor distinction, ends with the most atro- cious political guilt. The more we consider this point, the greater will its magnitude appear. It will rarely happen but that the minister will be more dependent for his existence on the king, than the king upon his minister. When it is otherwise, there will be a mutual compromise, and both in turn, will part with everything that is firm, generous, independent, and honourable in man.

And, in the mean time, what becomes of responsibility ? The measures are mixed and confounded as to then: source, beyond the power of human ingenuity to unravel. Responsibility is, in reality impossible. " Far otherwise," cries the advocate of monarchical government ; "it is true that the measures are partly those of the king and partly those of the minister; but the minister is respon- sible for all." Where is the justice of that ? It were better to leave guilt wholly without censure, than to condemn a man for crimes of which he is innocent. In this case the grand criminal escapes with impunity, and the severity of the law falls wholly upon his coadjutors. The coadjutors receive that treatment

D 2

36 OF LIMITED MONARCHY.

wliicli constitutes the essence of all bad policy ; punishment is profusely menaced against them, and antidote is wholly forgotten. They are propelled to vice by irresistible temptations, the love of power, and the desire to retain it; and then censured with a rigour altogether disproportioned to their fault. The vital prin- ciples of the society is tainted with injustice ; and the same neg- lect of equity and partial respect of persons will extend itself over the whole.

I proceed to consider that prerogative in limited monarchy, which, whatever others may be given or denied, is inseparable from its substance, the prerogative of the king to nominate to public offices. If anything be of importance, surely this must be of importance, that such a nomination be made with wisdom and integrity, that the fittest persons be appointed to the highest trusts the state has to confer, that an honest and generous ambition be cherished, and that men who shall most ardently qualify them- selves for the care of the public welfare, be secure of having the largest share in its superintendence.

This nomination is a most arduous task, and requires the wariest circumspection. It falls, more accurately than any other affair of political society, within the line of a pure, undefinable discretion. In other cases, the path of rectitude seems visible and distinct. Justice in the contests of individuals, justice in questions of peace and war, justice in the establishment of maxims of judi- cature, will not perhaps obstinately withdraw itself from the research of an impartial and judicious inquirer. But to observe the various portions of capacity scattered through a nation, and minutely to Aveigh the qualifications of multiplied candidates, must, after all our accuracy, be committed to some degree of uncertainty.

The first difficulty that occurs, is to discover those whom genius and ability have made, in the best sense, candidates for the office. Ability is not always intrusive ; talents are often to be found in the remoteness of a village, or the obscurity of a garret. And, though self-consciousness and self-possession are, to a certain degree, the attributes of genius, yet there are many tilings beside false modesty, that may teach its possessor to shun the air of a court.

Of all men a king is least qualified to penetrate these recesses, and discover merit in its hiding place. Encumbered with forms, he cannot mix at large in the society of his species. He is too much engrossed with the semblance of business, or a succession of amusements, to have leisure for such observations, as should afford a just estimate of men's characters. In reality, the task is too mighty for any individual, and the benefit can only be secured through the mode of election.

Other disadvantages, attendant on this prerogative of choosing his own ministers, it is needless to enumerate. If enough have not been already said, to explain the character of a monarch, as growing out of the functions with which he is invested, a laboured

OP LIMITED MONARCHY. 37

repetition in tliis place, woTild be both tedious and useless. If there be any dependence to be placed upon the operation of moral causes, a king will, in almost every instance, be found among the most undiscriminating, the most deceived, the least informed, and the least heroically disinterested of mankind.

Such then is the genuine and imcontrovertible scene of a mixed monarchy. An individual placed at the summit of the edifice, the centre and the fountain of honour, and Avho is neutral, or must seem neutral, in the current transactions of his goverment. This is the first lesson of honour, virtue, and truth, -which mixed monarchy reads to its subjects. Next to the king, come his ad- ministration, and the tribe of courtiers; men driven by a fatal necessity, to be corrupt, intriguing, and venal ; selected for their trust by the most ignorant and ill-formed inhabitant of the realm ; made solely accountable for measures of -which they cannot solely be the authors ; threatened, if dishonest, with the vengeance of an injured people ; and, if honest, with the surer vengeance of their sovereign's displeasure. The rest of the nation, the subjects at large

Was ever name so fraught with degradation and meanness as this of subjects ? I am, it seems, by the very place of my birth, become a subject. A subject I know I ought to be, to the laws of justice; a subject I know I am, to the circumstances and emergencies under which I am placed. But to be the subject of an individual, of a being with the same form, and the same im- perfections as myself; how much must the human mind be degraded, how much must its grandeur and independence be emasculated, before I can learn to think of this with patience, with indilference, nay, as some men do, with pride and exulta- tion ? Such is the idol that monarchy worships, in lieu of the divinity of truth, and the sacred obligation of public good. It is of little consequence whether we vow fidelity to the king and the nation, or to the nation and the king, so long as the king intrudes himself to tarnish and undermine the true simplicity, the altar of virtue.

Are mere names beneath our notice, and will they produce no sinister influence upon the mind ? May we bend the knee before the shrine of vanity and folly without injury? Far otherwise- Mind had its beginning in sensation, and it depends upon words and symbols for the progress of its associations. The truly good man must not only have a heart resolved, but a front erect. We cannot practise abjection, hypocrisy, and meanness, without be- coming degraded in other men's eyes and in our own. We can- not "bow the head in the temple of Rimmon," witliout in some degree apostatising from the divinity of truth. He that calls a king a man, will perpetually hear from his own mouth the lesson, that he is unfit for the trust reposed in him : he that calls him by any sublimer appellation, is hastening fast into the gross- est and most dangerous errors.

But perhaps " mankind are so weak and imbecile, that it is in

38 OF A PRESIDENT AVITII REGAL POWERS.

vain to expect, from the change of their institutions, the improve- ment of their character." Who made them weak and imbecile ? Previously to human institutions and human society, they had certainly none of this defect. Man, considered in himself, is merely a being capable of impression, a recipient of perceptions. What is there in this abstract charactci", that precludes him from advancement ? We have a faint discovery in individuals at pre- sent, of what our nature is capable : why should individuals be fit for so much, and the species for nothing ? Is there any- thing in the structure of the globe, that forbids us to be virtuous ? If not, if nearly all our impressions of right and vsTong flow from our intercourse with each other, why may not that intercourse be susceptible of modification and amendment? It is the most cowardly of all systems, that would represent the discovery of truth as useless, and teach us that, when discovered, it is our wisdom to leave the mass of our species in error.

There is, in reality, little room for scepticism respecting the omnipotence of truth. Trutli is the pebble in the lake ; and, however slowly, in the present case, the circles succeed each other, they will infallibly go on, till they overspread the surface. No order of mankind will for ever remain ignorant of the princi- ples of justice, equality, and public good. No sooner will they understand them, than they will perceive the coincidence of virtue and public good with private interest: nor will any erroneous establishment be able effectually to support itself against general opinion. In this contest sophistry will vanish, and mischievous institutions sink quietly into neglect. Truth will bring down all her forces, mankind will be her army, and oppression, injustice, monarchy, and vice, will tumble into a common ruin.

CHAP IX.

OF A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS.

Enumeration of powers — that of appointing to inferior offices — of par- doning offences— of convoking deliberative assemblies — of affixing a veto to their decrees. — Conclusion. — The title of king estimated. — Monarchical and aristocraticai systems, similarity of their effects.

Still monarchy it seems has one refuge left. " We will not," say some men, ''have an hereditary monarchy, we acknowledge that to be an enormous injustice. We are not contented with an elective monarchy, we are not contented with a limited one. We admit the ofiice however reduced, if the tenure be for life, to be an intolerable grievance. But why not have kings, as we have magistrates and legislative assemblies, renewable by fre-

r

OF A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS. 39

quent elections ? We may tlien change the holder of tlie office as often as we please."

Let us not be seduced by a mere plausibility of phrase, nor em- ploy words mthout having reflected on their meaning. What are we to understand by Uie appellation, a king ? If the office have any meaning, it seems reasonable that the man who holds it, should possess the privilege, either of appointing to certain employments at his own discretion, or of remitting the decrees of criminal justice, or of convoking and dismissing popular assem- blies, or of affixing and refusing his sanction to the decrees of those assemblies. Most of these privileges may claim a respectable authority, in the powers delegated to theu* president by the United States of America.

Let us however bring these ideas to the touchstone of reason. Nothing can appear more adventurous, than the reposing, unless in cases of absolute necessity, the decision of any affiiir of im- portance to the public, in the breast of one man. But this necessity will scarcely be alleged in any of the articles just enumerated. What advantage does one man possess, over a society or council of men, in any of these respects ? The disad- vantages under which he labours are obvious. He is more easily corrupted, and more easily misled. He cannot possess so many advantages for obtaining accurate information. He is abundantly more liable to the attacks of passion and caprice, of unfounded antipathy to one man and partiality to another, of uncharitable censure or blind idolatry. He cannot be always upon his guard ; there will be moments in which the most exemplary vigilance is liable to surprise. Meanwhile, we are placing the subject in much too favourable a light. We are supposing his intentions to be upright and just ; but the contrary of this will be more fre- quently the truth. Where powers, beyond the capacity of human nature, are intrusted, vices, the disgrace of human nature, will be engendered. Add to this, that the same reasons, which prove that government, wherever it exists, should be directed by the sense of the people at large, equally prove that, wherever public officers are necessary, the sense of the whole, or of a body of men most nearly approaching in spirit to the whole, ought to decide on their pretensions.

These objections are applicable to the most innocent of the privileges above enumerated, that of appointing to the exercise of certain employments. The case will be still worse, if we con- sider the other privileges. We shall have occasion hereafter to examine the propriety of pardoning offences, considered inde- pendently of the persons in whom Uiat power is vested : but, in the mean time, can anything be more intolerable, than for an in- dividual to be authorised, without assigning a reason, or assigning a reason upon which no one is allowed to pronounce, to supersede the grave decisions of a court of justice, founded upon a careful and public examination of evidence? Can anything be more unjust, than for an individual to assume the function of informing

40 OP A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS,

a nation, -when they are to deliberate, and when they are to cease from deliberation ?

The remaining privilege is of too iniquitous a nature to be an object of much terror. It is not in the compass of credibility to conceive, that any people would remain quiet spectators, while the sense of one man was, openly and iindisguisedly, set against the sense of the national representative in frequent assembly, and suffered to overpower it. Two or three direct instances of the exer- cise of this negative, could not fail to annihilate it. Accordingly, wherever it is supposed to exist, we find it softened and nourished by the genial dew of pecuniary corruption ; either rendered unnecessary beforehand, by a sinister application to the frailty of individual members, or disarmed and made palatable in the sequel, by a copious effusion of venal emollients. If it can in any case be endured, it must be in countries, where the degenerate representative no longer possesses the sympathy of the public, and the haughty president is made sacred, by the blood of an exalted ancestry which flows through his veins, or the holy oil which the representatives of the Most High have poured on his head. A common mortal, periodically selected by his fellow- citizens to watch over their interests, can never be supposed to possess this stupendous virtue.

If there be any truth in these reasonings, it inevitably follows that there are no important functions of general superintendence, which can justly be delegated to a single individual. If the office of a president be necessarj', either in a deliberate assembly, or an administrative council, supposing such a council to exist, his em- ployment will have relation to the order of their proceedings, and by no means consist in the arbitrary preferring and carrying into effect, his private decision. A king, if unvarying usage can give meaning to a word, describes a man, upon whose single discretion some part of the public interest is made to depend. What use can there be for such a man in an unperverted and well ordered state ? With respect to its internal affairs, certainly none. How far the office can be of advantage, in our transactions with foreign governments, we shall hereafter have occasion to decide.

Let us beware, by an unjustifiable perversion of terms, of con- founding the common understanding of mankind. A king is the well known and standing appellation for an office, which, if there be any truth in the arguments of the preceding chapters, has been the bane and the grave of human virtue. Why endeavour to purify and exorcise what is entitled only to execration ? Why not suffer the term to be as well understood, and as cordially de- tested, as the once honourable appellation of tyrant afterwards was among the Greeks ? Why not suffer it to rest a perpetual monument of the folly, the cowardice, and misery of our species ?

In proceeding, from the examination of monarchical, to that of ajistocratical government, it is impossible not to remark, that there are several disadvantages common to both. One of these is

OP A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS. 41

liic creation of a separate interest. The Lenefit of the governed is made to lie on one side, and the benefit of the governors on the other. It is to no purpose to say that individual interest, accu- rately imderstood, will always be found to coincide with general, if it appear in practice, that the opinions and errors of mankind, are perpetually separating them, and placing them in opposition to each other. The more the governors are fixed in a sphere distinct and distant from the governed, the more will this error be cherished. Theory, in order to produce an adequate effect upon the mind, should be favoured, not counteracted, by practice. What principle in human nature is more universally confessed, than self-love, that is, than a propensity to think individually of a private interest, to discriminate and divide objects, which the laws of the universe have indissolubly united ? None, unless it be the esprit de corps, tlie tendency of bodies of men to aggran- dise themselves, a spirit, which, though less ardent than self-love, is still more vigilant, and not exposed to the accidents of sleep, indisposition, and mortality. Thus it appears that, of all impulses to a narrow, self-interested conduct, those afforded by monarchy and aristocracy are the greatest.

Nor must we be too hasty and undistinguishing in applying the principle, that individual interest, accurately understood, will al- ways be found to coincide with general. Relatively to individuals, considered as men, it is, for the most part, certainly true ; rela- tively to individuals, considered as lords and kings, it is false. The man will perhaps be served, by the sacrifice of all his little peculium to the public interest, but the king will be annihilated. The first sacrifice that justice demands, at the hand of monarchy and aristocracy, is that of their immunities and prerogatives. Public interest dictates the unlimited dissemination of truth, and the impartial administration of justice. Kings and lords subsist only under favour of error and oppression. They will therefore resist the progress of knowledge and illumination ; the moment the deceit is dispelled, their occupation is gone.

In thus concluding however, we are taking for granted, that aristocracy will be found an arbitrary and pernicious institution, as monarchy has already appeared to be. It is time that we should enquire in what degree this is actually the case.

42 OF HEREDITARY DISTINCTION.

CHAP. X.

OF HEREDITAKY DISTINCTION.

Birth considered as a physical cause — as a moral cause. — Education of the great. — Recapitulation.

A PRINCIPLE deeply interwoven with both monarchy and aristo- cracy in their most flourishing state, but most deeply with the latter, is that of hereditary pre-eminence. No principle can present a deeper insult upon reason and justice. Examine the new-born son of a peer, and of a mechanic. Has nature desig- nated in different lineaments their future fortune ? Is one of them born with callous hands and an ungainly form ? Can you trace in the other the early promise of genius and understanding, of virtue and honour ? We have been told indeed " that nature will break out,"* and that

*• The eaglet of a valiant nest will quickly tower Up to the region of his sire ;"*

and the tale was once believed. But mankind will not soon again be persuaded, that the birthright of one lineage of human creatures is beauty and virtue, and of another, dulness, grossness, and deformity.

It is difficult accurately to decide, how much of the characters of men is produced, by causes that operated upon them in the period preceding their birth, and how much is the moral effect of education, in its extensive sense. Children certainly bring into the world with them a part of the character of their parents ; nay, it is probable that the human race is meliorated, somewhat in the same way as the races of brutes, and that every generation, in a civilised state, is further removed, in its physical structure, from the savage and uncultivated man.

But these causes operate too uncertainly to afford any just basis of hereditary distinction. If a child resembles his father in many particulars, there are particulars, perhaps more numerous and important, in which he differs from him. The son of a poet is not a poet, tlie son of an orator is not an orator, nor the son of a good man a-saint ; and yet, in this case, a whole volume of moral causes, is often brought to co-operate with the physical. This has been aptly illustrated, by a proposition, humorously suggest- ed,f for rendering the office of poet laureat hereditary. But, if the qualities and dispositions of the father were found descendible in the son, in a much greater degree than we have any reason to suppose, the character must be expected to wear out in a few generations, either by the mixture of breeds, or by, what there is great reason to suppose is still more pernicious, the want of mix- ture. The title made hereditary, will then remain, a brand upon

• Tragedy of Douglas, Act ill. + Paine's Bights ofMan.

OF HEREDITARY DISTINCTION. 43

the degenerate successor. It is not satire, but a simple statement of fact, when we observe, that it is not easy to find a set of men in society, sunlc more below the ordinary standard of man in his constituent characteristics, than the body of the English, or any other peerage.

Let us proceed to enquire into the efficacy of high birth and nobility, considered as a moral cause.

The persuasion of its excellence in this respect, is an opinion probably as old as the institution of nobility itself. The ety- mology of the word expressing this particular form of government, may perhaps be considered as having a reference to this idea. It is called aristocracy, or the government of the best [apisoi]. In the writings of Cicero, and the speeches of the Roman senate, this order of men, is styled the " optimates," the " virtuous," the "liberal," and the "honest." It is asserted, and with some de- gree of justice, " that the multitude is an unruly beast, with no fixed sentiments of honour or principle, guided by sordid venality, or not less sordid appetite, envious, tyrannical, inconstant, and imjust." Hence they deduced as a consequence, "the necessity of maintaining an order of men of liberal education and elevated sentiments, who should either engross the government of the humbler and more numerous class incapable of governing them- selves, or at least should be placed as a rigid guard upon their excesses, with powers adequate to their correction and restraint." The greater part of these reasonings will fall under our examina- tion, when we consider the disadvantages of democracy.* So much as relates to the excellence of aristocracy it is necessary at present to discuss.

The whole proceeds upon a supposition that, " if nobility should not, as its hereditary constitution might seem to imply, be found originally superior to the ordinary rate of mortals, it is at least rendered eminently so by the power of education. Men, who grow up in unpolished ignorance and barbarism, and are chilled with the icy touch of poverty, must necessarily be exposed to a thousand sources of corruption, and cannot have that delicate sense of rectitude and honour, which literature and manly refine- ment are found to bestow. It is under the auspices of indulgence and ease, that civilisation is engendered. A nation must have surmomited the disadvantages of a first establishment, and have arrived at some degree of leisure and prosperity, before the love of letters can take root among them. It is in individuals, as in large bodies of men. A few exceptions will occur ; but, ex- cluding these, it can scarcely be expected, that men, who are compelled in every day, by laborious manual eff"orts to provide for the necessities of the day, should arrive at great expansion of mind and comprehensiveness of tliinking."

In certain parts of this argument there is considerable truth. The sound moralist, will be the last man to deny the power and

• Chap. XIV.

44 OF HEREDITAKY DISTINCTION.

importance of education. It is therefore necessary, either that a system should be discovered for securing leisure and prosperity to every member of the community ; or that a certain influence and authority should be given to the liberal and the wise, over the illiterate and ignorant. Now, supposing, for the present, that the former of these measures is impossible, it may yet be reasonable to enquire whether aristocracy be the most judicious scheme for obtaining the latter. Some light may be collected on this subject, from what has already appeared respecting education under the head of monarchy.

Education is much, but opulent education is of all its modes the least efficacious. The education of words is not to be des- pised, but the education of things is on no account to be dispensed with. The former is of admirable use in enforcing and developing the latter ; but, when taken alone, it is pedantry and not learning, a body without a soul. Whatever may be the abstract perfection of which mind is capable, we seem at present frequently to need being excited, in the case of any uncommon effort, by motives that address themselves to the individual. But, so far as relates to these motives, the lower classes of mankind, had they sufficient leisure, have greatly the advantage. The plebeian must be the maker of his own fortune ; the lord finds his already made. The plebeian must expect to find himself neglected and despised, in proportion as he is remiss in cultivating the objects of esteem ; the lord will always be surrounded with sycophants and slaves. The lord therefore has no motive to industry and exertion ; no stimulus to rouse him from the lethargic, "oblivious pool," out of which every human intellect originally rose. It must indeed be confessed, that truth does not need tlie alliance of circum- stances, and that a man may arrive at the temple of fame, by other paths than those of misery and distress. But the lord does not content himself with discarding the stimulus of adversity ; he goes further than this, and provides fruitful sources of effe- minacy and error. Man cannot offend with impunity against the great principle of universal good. He that monopolises to him- self luxuries and titles and wealth to the injury of the whole, becomes degraded from the rank of man ; and, however he may be admired by the multitude, will be pitied by the wise, and not seldom be wearisome to himself. Hence it appears, that to elect men to the rank of nobility, is to elect them to a post of moral danger and a means of depravity ; but that to constitute them hereditarily noble, is to preclude them, exclusively of a few extraordinary accidents, from all the causes that generate ability and virtue.

The reasonings here repeated upon the subject of hereditary distinction, are so obvious, that nothing can be a sti'onger instance of the power of prejudice instilled in early youth, than the fact of their having been, at any time, disputed or forgotten. From birth as a physical cause, it sufficiently appears that little funda- mental or regular can be expected : and, so far as relates to edu-

MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY. 45

cation, it is practicable, in a certain degree, nor is it easy to set limits to that degree, to infuse emulation into a youthful mind ; but wealth is the fatal blast that destroys the hopes of a future harvest. There was once indeed a gallant kind of virtue, that, by irresistibly seizing the senses, seemed to communicate extensively, to young men of birth, the mixed and equivocal accomplishments of chivalry ; but, since the subjects of moral emulation have been turned, from personal prowess, to the energies of intellect, and especially since the field of that emulation has been more •widely opened to the species, the lists have been almost uniformly occupied by those, whose narrow circumstances have goaded them to ambition, or whose undebauched habits and situation in life, have rescued them from the poison of flattery and effeminate indulgence.

CHAPTER XI.

MOKAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY.

Nattire of aristocracy. — Importance of practical justice. — Species of injustice uhich aristocracy creates. — Estimate of the injury produced » —Examples.

The features of aristocratical institution are principally two ; privilege, and an aggravated monopoly of wealth. The first of these is the essence of aristocracy ; the second, that without which aristocracy can rarely be supported. They are both of them in direct opposition to all sound morality, and all generous independence of character.

Inequality of wealth is perhaps the necessary result of the insti- tution of property, in any state of progress at which the human mind has yet arrived ; and cannot, till the character of the human species is essentially altered, be superseded, but by a despotic and positive interference, more injurious to the common welfare, than the inequality it attempted to remove. Inequality of wealth involves with it inequality of inheritance.

But the mischief of aristocracy is, that it inexpressibly aggra- vates and embitters an evil, which, in its mildest form, is deeply to be deplored. The first sentiment of an uncorrupted mind, when it enters upon the theatre of human life, is. Remove from me and my fellows all arbitrary- hindrances ; let us start fail- ; render all the advantages and honours of social institution acces- sible to every man, in proportion to his talents and exertions.

Is it true, as has often been pretended, that generous and ex- alted qualities are hereditary in particular lines of descent ? They do not want the alliance of positive institution, to secure to them

46 MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY.

their proper ascendency, and enable them to command the respect of mankind. Is it false ? Let it share the fate of expo- sure and detection with other impostures. If I conceived of a young person that he was destined, from his earliest infancy, to be a sublime poet, or a profound philosopher, should I conceive that the readiest road to the encouraging and fostering his talents, was, from the moment of his birth, to put a star upon his breast, to salute him with titles of honour, and to bestow upon him, independently of all exertion, those advantages which exertion usually proposes to itself as its ultimate object of pursuit ? No ; I should send him to the school of man, and oblige him to con- verse with his fellows upon terms of equality.

Privilege is a regulation, rendering a few men, and those only by the accident of their birth, eligible to certain situations. It kills all liberal ambition in the rest of mankind, by opposing to it an apparently insurmountable bar. It diminishes it in the favoured class itself, by showing them the principal qualification as indefeasibly theirs. Privilege entitles a favoured few to engross to themselves gratifications, which the system of the universe left at large to all her sons : it puts into tlie hands of these few, the means of oppression against the rest of their species; it fills them with vain glory, and affords them every incitement to insolence and a lofty disregard to the feelings and interests of others.

Privilege, as we have already said, is the essence of aristocracy ; and, in a rare condition of human society, such as that of the ancient Romans, privilege has been able to maintain itself without the accession of wealth, and to flourish in illustrious poverty. But this can be the case, only under a very singular coincidence of circumstances. In general, an aggravated monopoly of wealth has been one of the objects, about which the abettors of aristocracy have been most incessantly solicitous. Hence the origin of entails, rendering property, in its own nature too averse to a generous cii'culatiou, a thousand times more stagnant and putrescent than before ; of primogeniture, which disinherits every other member of a family, to heap unwholesome abundance upon one ; and of various limitations, filling the courts of civilised Europe with endless litigation, and making it in many cases impossible to decide, who it is that has the right of conveying a property, and what shall amount to a legal transfer.

There is one thing, more than all the rest, of importance to the ivell-being of mankind, justice. A neglect of justice is not only to be deplored for the direct evil it produces; it is perhaps still more injurious, by its effects, in per\'erting the under- standing, overtm-ning our calculations of the future, and thus striking at the root of moral discernment, and genuine power and decision of character.

Of all the principles of justice, there is none so material to the moral rectitude of mankind, as that no man can be distinguished but by his personal merit. When a man has proved himself

MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY. 47

a benefactor to the public, when he has already, by laudable per- severance, cultivated in himself talents, which need only encour- agement and public favour to bring them to maturity, let that man be honoured. In a state of society where fictitious distinc- tions are unknown, it is impossible he should not be honoured. But that a man should be looked up to with servility and awe. because the king has bestowed on him a spurious name, or decorated him with a ribband; that another should revel in luxury, because his ancestor three centuries ago bled in the quarrel of Lancaster or York ; do we imagine that these iniquities can be practised without injury ?

Let those who entertain this opinion, converse a little with the lower orders of mankind. They ■v\nll perceive that the unfor- tunate WTetch, who, with unremitted labour, finds himself incapa- ble adequately to feed and clothe his family, has a sense of injustice rankling at his heart.

But let us suppose that their sense of injustice were less acute than is here supposed, Avhat favourable inference can be deduced from that ? Is not the injustice real ? If the minds of men are so withered and stupified by the constancy with which it is prac- tised, tliat they do not feel the rigour that grinds them into nothing, how does that improve the picture ?

Let us fairly consider, for a moment, what is the amount of injustice included in the institution of aristocracy. I am born, suppose, a Polish prince with an income of £300,000 per annum. You are born a manerial serf, or a Creolian negro, attached to the soil, and transferable, by barter or otherwise, to twenty successive lords. In vain shall be your most generous efforts, and your un- wearied industry, to free yourself from the intolerable yoke. Doomed, by the law of your birth, to wait at the gates of the palace you must never enter ; to sleep under a ruined, weather- beaten roof, while your master sleeps under canopies of state ; to feed on putrified offals, while the world is ransacked for delicacies for his table; to labour, without moderation or limit, under a parching sun, while he basks in perpetual sloth; and to be rewarded at last with contempt, reprimand, stripes, and muti- lation. In fact the case is worse than tliis. I could endure all that injustice or caprice could inflict, provided I possessed, in the resource of a firm mind, the power of looking down with pity on my tyrant, and of knowing that I had that within, that sacred character of truth, virtue, and fortitude, which all his injustice could not reach. But a slave and serf are condemned to stupidity and vice, as well as to calamity.

Is all this nothing ? Is all this necessary for the maintenance of civil order ? Let it be recollected that, for this distinction, there is not the smallest foundation in the nature of things, that, as we have already said, there is no particular mould for the con- struction of lords, and that they are born neither better nor worse than the poorest of their dependents. It is this structure of aristocracy, in all its sanctuaries and fragments, against which

48 OF TITLES.

reason and morality have declared war. It is alike unjust, whether we consider it in the castes of India : the villainage of the feudal system ; or the despotism of ancient Rome, where the debtors were dragged into personal servitude, to expiate, by stripes and slavery, the usurious loans they could not repay. Mankind will never be, in an eminent degree, virtuous and happy, till each man shall possess that portion of distinction, and no more, to which he is entitled by his personal merits. The disso- lution of aristocracy is equally the interest of the oppressor and the oppressed. The one will be delivered from the listless- ness of tyranny, and the other from the brutalising operation of servitude. How long shall we be told in vain, " that medio- crity of fortune is the true rampart of personal happiness ?"

CHAP. XII.

OF TITLES.

Their ongin and history. — Their miserable absurdity. — Truth the only adequate reward of merit.

The case of mere titles, is so absurd, that it would deserve to be treated only with ridicule, were it not for the serious mischiefs they impose on mankind. The feudal system was a ferocious monster, devouring, wherever it came, all that the friend of humanity regards with attachment and love. The system of titles appears under a different form. The monster is at length destroyed, and they who followed in his train, and fattened upon the carcases of those he slew, have stuffed his skin, and, by exhibiting it, hope still to terrify mankind into patience and pusillanimity. The sj^stem of the northern invaders, however, odious, escaped the ridicule of the system of titles. When the feudal chieftains assumed a geographical appellation, it was from some place really subject to their authority ; and there was no more absurdity in the style they assumed, than in our calling a man, at present, the governor of Tangiers or the governor of Gibraltar. The commander-in-chief, or tlie sovereign, did not then give an empty name ; he conferred an earldom or a barony, a substantial tract of land, with houses and men, and producing a real revenue. He now grants nothing, but a privilege, equiva- lent to that of calling yourself Tom, who were beforetime called Will ; and, to add to the absurdity, your new appellation is bor- rowed from some place, perhaps, you never saw, or some country you never visited. The style however is the same ; we are still earls and barons, governors of provinces and commanders of forts, and that with the same evident propriety, as the elector of

OF TITLES. 49

. Hanover, and arch-treasurer of the empire, styles himself king of France.

Can there be anything more ludicrous, than that the man, who was yesterday Mr. St. John, the most eloquent speaker of the British house of commons, the most penetrating thinker, the um- pire of maddening parties, the restorer of peace to bleeding and exhausted Europe, should be to-day Lord Bolingbroke ? In what is he become greater and more venerable than he was ? In the pretended favour of a stupid and besotted woman, who always hated him, as she uniformly hated talents and virtue, though, for her own interest, she was obliged to endure him.

The friends of a- man upon whom a title has recently been conferred, must either be wholly blinded by tlie partiality of friendship, not to feel the ridicule of his situation ; or completely debased by the parasitical spirit of dependence, not to betray their feelings. Every time they essay to speak, they are in danger of blundering upon the inglorious appellations of Mr. and Sir."* Every time their tongue falters with imconfirmed practice, the question rushes upon them with irresistible force, " What change has my old friend undergone; in what is he wiser or better, happier or more honourable ?" The first week of a new title, is a perpetual war of the feelings in every spectator ; the genuine dic- tates of common sense, against the arbitrary institutions of society. To make the farce more perfect, these titles are subject to perpetual fluctuations, and the man who is to-day Earl of Kensington, will to-morrow resign, with unblushing effrontery, all appearance of character and honour, to be called Marquis of Kew. History labours under the Gothic and unintelligible burden ; no mortal patience can connect the different stories, of him who is to-day Lord Kimbolton, and to-morrow Earl of Manchester; to day Earl of Mulgrave, and to-morrow Marquis of Normanby and Duke of Buckinghamshire.

The absurdity of these titles Strikes us the more, because they are usually the reward of intrigue and corruption. But, were it otherwise, still they would be unworthy of the adherents of reason and justice. When we speak of Mr. St. John, as of the man, who by his eloquence swayed contending parties, who withdrew the conquering sword from suffering France, and gave thirty years of peace and calm pursuit of the arts of life and wisdom to mankind, we speak of something eminently great. Can any title express these merits? Is not truth the consecrated and single vehicle of justice ? Is not the plain and simple truth worth all the cunning substitutions in the world? Could an oaken garland, or a gilded coronet, have added one atom to his real greatness ? Garlands and coronets may be bestowed on the unworthy, and prostituted to the intriguing. Till man- kind be satisfied with the naked statement of what they really

• In reality these appellations are little less absurd than those by which they are superseded,

19.— VOL. II. E

50 OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.

perceive, till they confess virtue to be then most illustrioi*s, when she most disdains the aid of ornament, they will never arrive at that manly justice of sentiment, at which they seem destined one day to arrive. By this scheme of naked truth, virtue will be every day a gainer; every succeeding observer ■will more fully do her justice, while vice, deprived of that varnish with which she delighted to gloss her actions, of that gaudy exliibition which may be made alike by every pretender, will speedily sink into imheeded contempt.

CHAP. XIII.

OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.

Intolerance of aristocracy — dependent for its success upon the ignorance of the multitude. — Precautions necessary for its suppmt. — Different hinds of aristocracy. — Aristocracy of the Romans : its virtues — its vices. — Aristocratical distribution of property — regulations by which it is maintained — avarice it engenders. — Argument against innova" tion from the present happy establishment of affairs considered. — Conclusion.

Aristocracy, in its proper signification, is neither less nor more, than a scheme for rendering more permanent and visible, by the interference of political institution, the inequality of mankind. Aristocracy, like monarchy, is founded in falsehood, the offspring of art foreign to the real nature of things, and must therefore, like monarchy, be supported by artifice and false pretences. Its empire however, is founded in principles more gloomy and un- social, than those of monarchy. The monarch often thinks it advisable to employ blandishments and courtship with his barons iind officers ; but the lord deems it sufiicient to rule with a rod of iron.

Both depend for their perpetuity upon ignorance. Could they, like Omar, destroy the productions of profane reasoning, and persuade mankind that the Alcoran contained everything which it became them to study, they might then renew their lease of empire. But here again aristocracy displays its superior harsh- ness. Monarchy admits of a certain degree of monkish learning among its followers. But aristocracy holds a stricter hand. Should tlie lower ranks of society once come to be generally able to write and read, its power would be at an end. To make men serfs and villains, it is indispensably necessary to make them brutes. This is a question which has long been can- vassed with eagerness and avidity. The resolute advocates of the old system have, with no contemptible foresight, opposed the communication of knowledge as a most alarming innovation, la

OP THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER. 51

tlieir well known observation, "that a servant who has been taught to write and read, ceases to be any longer the passive machine they requiie," is contained the embryo, from which it would be easy to explain the whole philosophy of European society.

And who is there that can ponder with unruffled thoughts, the injurious contrivances of these self-centred usiu^ers, contrivances, the purpose of which is to retain the human species in a slate of endless degradation ? It is in the subjects we are here examining, ^at the celebrated maxim of " many made for one," is brought to the test. Those reasoners were, no doubt, " wise in their gene- ration," who two centuries ago conceived alarm at the bias-, phemous doctrine, " that government was instituted for the benefit of the governed, and, if it proposed to itself any other object, was no better than an usurpation." It will perpetually be found, that the men who in every age, have been the earliest to give the alarm of innovation, and have been ridiculed on that account as bigoted and timid, were, in reality, persons of more than common discernment, who saw, though but imperfectly, in the rude principle, the inferences to which it inevitably led. It is time that men of reflection should choose between the two sides of the alternative : either to go back, fairly and without reserve, to the primitive principles of tyranny ; or, adopting any one of the maxims opposite to these, however neutral it may at first appear, not feebly and ignorantly to shut their eyes upon the system of consequences it draws along with it.

It is not necessary to enter into a methodical disquisition of tlie different kinds of aristocracy, since, if the above reasonings have any force, they are equally cogent against them all. Aristo- cracy may vest its prerogatives principally in the individual, as in Poland ; or restrict tliem to the nobles in their corporate capacity, as in Venice. The former A^ill be more tumultuous and dis- orderly; the latter more jealous, intolerant, and severe. The magistrates may either recruit their body by election among themselves, as in Holland ; or by the choice of the people, as in ancient Rome.

The aristocracy of ancient Rome was incomparably the most venerable and illustrious, that ever existed. It may not therefore be improper to contemplate in them, the degree of excellence to which aristocracy may be raised. They included in their institu- tion some of the benefits of democracy, as, generally speaking, no man became a member of the senate, but in consequence of his being elected by the people to the superior magistracies. It was reasonable therefore to expect, that the majority of the members would possess some degree of capacity. They were not like modern aristocratical assemblies, in which, as primo- geniture, and not selection, decides upon tlicir prerogatives, we shall commonly seek in vain for capacity, except in a few of the lords of recent creation. As the plebians were long restrained from looking for candidates, except among the patricians, that is,

s 2

52 OP THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.

the posterity of senators, it was reasonable to suppose that the most eminent talents would be confined to that order. A circum- stance which contributed to this, was the monopoly of liberal education and the cultivation of the mind, a monopoly which the invention of printing has at length fully destroyed Accordingly, all the great literary ornaments of Rome were either patricians, or of the equestrian order, or their immediate dependents. The plebians, though, in their corporate capacity, they possessed, for some centuries, the virtues of sincerity, intrepidity, love of justice and of the public, could scarcely boast of any of those individual characters in their party that reflect lustre on mankind, except the two Gracchi; while the patricians told of Brutus, Valerius, Coriolanus, Cincinnatus, Camillus, Fabricius, Regulus, the Fabii, the Decii, the Scipios, Lucullus, Marcellus, Cato, Cicero, and innumerable others. With this retrospect continually suggested to their minds, it was almost venial, for the stern heroes of Rome, and the last illustrious martyrs of the republic, to entertain aris- tocratical sentiments.

Let us however consider impartially this aristocracy, so superior to any other of ancient or modern times. Upon the first institu- tion of the republic, the people possessed scarcely any authority, except in the election of magistrates, and even here their intrinsic importance was eluded, by the mode of arranging the assembly, so that the whole decision vested in the richer classes of the community. No magistrates of any description, were elected, but from among the patricians. All causes were judged by the patricians, and from their judgment there was no appeal. The patricians intermarried among themselves, and thus fonned a republic of narrow extent, in the midst of the nominal one, which was held by them in a state of abject servitude. The idea which purified these usurpations in the minds of the usurpers, was, " that the vulgar are essentially coarse, grovelling, and ignorant, and that there can be no security for the empire of justice and consistency, but in the decided ascendancy of the liberal." Thus, even while they opposed the essential interests of mankind, they were animated with public spirit and an unbounded enthusiam of virtue. But it is not less true, that they did oppose the essential interests of mankind. What can be more memorable in this respect, than the declamations of Appius Claudius, whether we <jonsider the moral greatness of mind by which they were dic- tated, or the cruel intolerance they were intended to enforce ? It is inexpressibly painful, to see so much virtue, through successive ages, employed in counteracting the justest requisitions. The result was, that the patricians, notwithstanding their immeasur- able superiority in abilities, were obliged to resign, one by one, the exclusions to which they clung. In the intcrv^al they were led to have recourse to the most odious methods of opposition ; and every man among them, contended who should be loudest in applause of the nefixrious murder of the Gracchi. If the Komans were distinguished for so many virtues, constituted as

r

OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER. 53

ihey were, what might they not have been, but for the iniquity of aristocratical usurpation ? The indelible blemish of their history, the love of conquest, originated in the same cause. Their wars, through every period of the republic, were nothing more, than the contrivance of the patricians, to divert their coimtrymen from attending to the sentiments of political truth, by leading them to scenes of conquest and carnage. They understood the art, com- mon to all governments, of confounding the understandings of the multitude, and persuading them that the most unprovoked hostilities were merely the dictates of necessary defence.

Aristocracy, as we have already seen, is intimately connected with an extreme inequality of possessions. No man can be an useful member of society, except so far as his talents are em- ployed in a manner conducive to the genei-al advantage. In every society, the produce, the means of contributing to the necessities and conveniences of its members, is of a certain amount. In every society, the bulk at least of its members, contribute by their personal exertions to the creation of this produce. What can be more desirable and just, than that the produce itself should, with some degree of equality, be shared among them ? What more injurious, than the accumulating upon a few every means of su- perfluity and luxury, to the total destruction of the ease, and plain, but plentiful subsistence of the many ? It may be calculated that the king, even of a limited monarchy, receives as the salary of his office, an income equivalent to the labour of fifty thousand men.* Let us set out in our estimate from this point, and figure to ourselves the shares of his counsellors, his nobles, the wealthy commoners by whom the nobility will be emulated, their kindred ' and dependents. Is it any wonder that, in such countries, the lower orders of the community are exhausted, by the hardships of penury and immoderate fatigue ? When we see the wealth of a province spread upon the great man's table, can we be surprised that his neighbours have not bread to satiate the cravings of hunger ?

Is this a state of human beings that must be considered as the last improvement of political wisdom ? In such a state it is" impossible tJiat eminent virtue should not be exceedingly rare. The higher and the lower classes will be alike corrupted by their unnatural situation. But to pass over the higher class for the present, what can be more evident than the tendency of want to contract the intellectual powers ? The situation which the wise man would desire, for himself, and for those in whose welfare he was interested, would be a situation of alternate labour and re- laxation, labour that should not exhaust the frame, and relaxation that was in no danger of degenerating into indolence. Thus industry and activity would be cherished, the frame preserved in a healthful tone, and the mind acciistomed to meditation and im- provement. But this would be the situation of the whole human

• Taking the average price of labour at one shilling per diem.

54 OF THE ARISTOCRA.TICAL CHARACTER.

species, if the supply of our wants were fairly distributed. Caa any system be more worthy of disapprobation, than that which converts nineteen-twenticths of them into beasts of burden, anni- hilates so much thought, renders impossible so much virtue, and extirpates so much happiness ?

But it may be alleged, " tliat this argument is foreign to the subject of aristocracy; the inequality of conditions being the inevitable consequence of the institution of property." It is true that many disadvantages have hitherto flowed out of this institu- tion, in the simplest form in which it has yet existed ; but theso disadvantages, to whatever they may amount, are greatly aggra- vated by the operations of aristocracy. Aristocracy turns the stream of property out of its natural course, in following which it would not fail to fructify and gladden, in turn at least, every division of the community ; and forwards, with assiduous care, its accumulation in the hands of a very few persons.

At the same time that it has endeavoured to render the acquisi- tion of permanent property difficult, aristocracy has greatly in- creased the excitements to that acquisition. All men are accus- tomed to conceive a thirst after distinction and pre-eminence, but they do not all fix upon wealth as the object of this passion, but variously upon skill in any particular art, grace, learning, talents, wisdom, and virtue. Nor does it appear that these latter objects are pursued by their votaries with less assiduity, than wealth is pursued by those who are anxious to acquire it. Wealth would be still less capable of being mistaken for the universal passion, were it not rendered by political institution, more than by its natural influence, the road to honour and respect.

There is no mistake more thoroughly to be deplored on this suhject, than that of persons, sitting at their ease and surrounded with all the conveniences of life, who are apt to exclaim, " We find things very well as they are ;" and to inveigh bitterly against all projects of reform, as " the romances of visionary men, and the declamations of those who are never to be satisfied." Is it well, that so large a part of the community should be kept in abject penury, rendered stupid with ignorance, and disgustful with vice, perpetuated in nakedness and hunger, goaded to the commission of crimes, and made victims to the merciless laws which the rich have instituted to oppress them ? Is it sedition to enquire, whether this state of things may not be exchanged for a better ? Or can there be anything more disgraceful to ourselves, than to exclaim that "All is well," merely because we are at our ease, regardless of the misery, degradation, and vice, that may be occasioned in others ?

It is undoubtedly a pernicious mistake which has insinuated itself among certain reformers, that leads them to the per- petual indulgence of acrimony and resentment, and renders them too easily reconciled to projects of commotion and violence. But, if we ought to be aware that mildness and an unbounded philanthropy, are the most effectual instruments of public welfare,

I

GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY. 55

it does not follow, that we are to shut our eyes upon the calamities that exist, or to cease from the most ardent aspirations for their removal.

There is one argument to which the advocates of monarchy and aristocracy always have recourse when driven from every other pretence ; the mischievous natiure of democracy. *' How- ever imperfect the two former of these institutions may be in them- selves, they are found necessary," we are told, "as accommoda- tions to the imperfection of human nature." It is for the reader who has considered the arguments of the preceding chapters to decide, how far it is probable that circumstances can occur, which should make it our duty to submit to these complicated evils. Meanwhile, let us proceed to examine that democracy, of which, so alarming a pictm^e has usually been exhibited.

CHAP. XIV.

GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY.

Definition. — Supposed evils of this form of government — ascendancy of the ignorant — of the crafty — inconstancy — rash confidence — ground' less suspicion. — Merits and defects of democracy compared. — Its moral tendency. — Tendency of truth. — Representation,

Democracy is a system of government, according to which every member of society is considered as a man, and nothing more. So far as positive regulation is concerned if indeed that can, with any propriety, be termed regulation, which is the mere recognitiou of the simplest of all moral principles, every man is regarded, as equal. Talents and wealth, wherever they exist, will not fail to obtain a certain degree of influence, without requiring positive institution to second their operation.

But there are certain disadvantages that may seem the neces- sary result of democratical equality. In political society, it is reasonable to suppose, that the wise will be outnumbered by the unwise ; and it will be inferred, " that the welfare of the whole, will therefore be at the mercy of ignorance and folly." It is true, that the ignorant will generally be sufficiently willing to listen to the judicious, "but their very ignorance will incapacitate them from discerning the merit of their guides. The turbulent and crafty demagogue, will often possess greater advantages for in- veigling their judgment, than the man who, with purer intentions, may possess a less brilliant talent. Add to this, that the dema- gogue has a never-failing resource in the ruling imperfection of human nature, that of preferring the specious present to the sub- stantial future. This is what is usually termed playing upon the

56 GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY.

passions of mankind. Politics have hitherto presented an enigma, that all the wit of man has been insufficient to solve. Is it to be supposed, that the iminstructed multitude should ahvays be able to resist the artful sophistry and captivating eloquence that may be employed to perplex the subject with still further obscurity ? Will it not often happen, that the schemes proposed by the am- bitious disturber will possess a meretricious attraction, which the severe and sober project of the discerning statesman shall be unable to compensate ?

" One of the most fruitful sources of human happiness is to be found in the steady and uniform operation of certain fixed princi- ples. But it is the characteristic of a democracy to be Avavering and inconstant. The speculator only, who has deeply meditated his principles, is inflexible in his adherence to them. The mass of mankind, as they have never arranged their reflections into system, are at the mercy of every momentary impulse, and liable to change with every wind. But this inconstancy is directly the reverse of political justice.

"Nor is this all. Democracy is a monstrous and unwieldy vessel, launched upon the sea of human passions, without ballast. Liberty, in this unlimited form, is in danger to be lost almost as soon as it is obtained. The ambitious man finds nothing, in this scheme of human affairs, to set bounds to his desires. He has only to dazzle and deceive the multitude, in order to rise to absolute power.

" A further ill consequence flows out of this circumstance. The multitude, conscious of their weakness in this respect, will, in proportion to their love of liberty and equality, be perpetually suspicious and uneasy. Has any man displayed uncommon vir- tues, or rendered eminent services to his country ? He will presently be charged with secretly aiming at the tyranny. Various circumstances will come in aid of this accusation ; the general love of novelty, envy of superior merit, and the incapacity of the multitude to understand the motives and character of those who excel them. Like the Athenian, they will be tired of hear- ing Aristides constantly called the Just. Thus will merit be toa frequently the victim of ignorance and envy. Thus will all that is liberal and refined, whatever the human mind in its highest state of improvement is able to conceive, be often overpowered by the turbulence of unbridled passion, and the rude dictates of savage folly."

If this picture must be inevitably realised wherever democrati- cal principles are established, the state of human nature would be peculiarly unfortunate. No form of government can be devised which does not partake of monarchy, aristocracy, or democracy. We have taken a copious survey of the two former, and it would seem impossible that greater or more inveterate mischiefs can be inflicted on mankind, than those which are inflicted by them. No portrait of injustice, degradation, and vice can be exhibited, that can surpass the fail* and inevitable inferences from the principle

I

GENERAL FEATURES OP DEMOCRACY. 57

upon whicli they are built. If then democracy can, by any arguments, be brouglit down to a level with such monstrous institutions as these, in which there is neither integrity nor reason, our prospects of the futiire happiness of mankind, will indeed be deplorable.

But this is impossible. Supposing that we should even be oblig«id to take democracy with all the disadvantages that were ever annexed to it, and that no remedy could be discovered for any of its defects, it would still be preferable to the exclusive system of other forms. Let us take Athens, with all its tui-bu- lence and instability, with the popular and temperate usurpations of Pisistratus and Pericles ; with its monstrous ostracism, by which, with undisguised injustice, they were accustomed periodi- cally to banish some eminent citizen, without the imputation of a crime ; with the imprisonment of Miltiades, the exile of Aristides, and the murder of Phocion : with all these errors on its head, it is incontrovertible that Athens exhibited a more illustrious and enviable spectacle, than all the monarchies and aristocracies that ever existed. Who would reject their gallant love of virtue and independence, because it was accompanied with irregularities? "Who would pass an unreserved condemnation upon their pene- trating mind, their quick discernment, and their ardent feeling, because they were subject occasionally to be intemperate and im- petuous ? Shall we compare a people of such incredible achieve- ments, such exquisite refinement, gay without insensibility, and splendid without intemperance, in the midst of whom grew up, the greatest poets, the noblest artists, the most finished orators and the most disinterested philosophers, the world ever saw, — shall we compare this chosen seat of patriotism, independence, and generous virtue, with the torpid and selfish realms of monarchy and aristocracy ? All is not happiness that looks tran- quillity. Better were a portion of turbulence and fluctuation, than that unwholesome calm in which all the best faculties of the human mind are turned to putrescence and poison.

In the estimate that is usually made of democracy, one of the sources of our erroneous judgment, lies in our taking mankind such as monarchy and aristocracy have made them, and thence judging how fit they are to manage for themselves. Monarchy and aristocracy would be no evils, if their tendency were not to undermine the virtues and the understandings of their subjects. The thing most necessary, is to remove all those restraints which prevent the human mind from attaining its genuine strength. Implicit faith, blind submission to authority, timid fear, a distrust of our powers, an inattention to our own importance and the good purposes we are able to effect, these are the chief obstacles to human improvement. Democracy restores to man a conscious- ness of his value, leaches him, by the removal of authority and oppression, to listen only to the suggestions of reason, gives him confidence to treat all other men with frankness and simplicity, , and induces him to regai-d them no longer, as enemies against .

58 GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY,

whom to be upon his guard, but as brethren whom it becomes him to assist. The citizen of a democratical state, when he looks upon the oppression and injustice that prevail in the countries around him, cannot but entertain an inexpressible esteem for the advantages he enjoys, and the most unalterable determination to preserve them. The influence of democracy upon the sentiments of its members, is altogetlier of the negative sort, but its conse- quences are inestimable. Nothing can be more unreasonable, than to argue, from men as we now find them, to men as they may hereafter be made. Strict and accurate reasoning, instead of suifering us to be surprised that Athens did so much, would at first induce us to wonder that she retained so many imperfections.

The road to the improvement of mankind, is in the utmost degree simple, to speak and act the truth. If the Athenians had had more of this, it is impossible they should have been so fla- grantly erroneous. To express ourselves to all men with honesty and \mreserve, and to administer justice without partiality, are principles which, when once thoroughly adopted, are in the highest degree prolific. They enlighten the understanding, give decision to the judgment, and strip misrepresentation of its speciousness. In Athens, men suffered themselves to be dazzled by splendour and show. If the error in their constitution which led to this defect, can be discovered, if a form of political society can be devised, in which men shall be accustomed to judge simply and soberly, and be habitually exercised to the manliness of truth, democracy will, in that society, cease from the turbulence, insta- bility, fickleness, and violence, that have too often characterised it. Nothing can be more worthy to be depended on, than the omnipotence of truth, or, in other words, than the connection between the judgment and the outward behaviour.* The contest between truth and falsehood is of itself too unequal, for the former to stand in need of support from any political ally. The more it is discovered, especially that part of it which relates to man in society, the more simple and self-evident will it appear ; and it will be found impossible, any otherwise to account for its having been so long concealed, than from the pernicious influence of positive institution.

There is another obvious consideration, that has frequently been alleged to account for the imperfection of ancient democracies, which is worthy of our attention, though it be not so important as the argument Avhich has just been stated. The ancients were unaccustomed to the idea of deputed or representative assemblies ; and it is reasonable to suppose, that affairs might often be trans- acted, with the utmost order, in such assemblies, which might be productive of much tumult and confusion, if submitted to the personal discussions of the citizens at large.f By this happy ex-

♦ Vol. I., Book I., Chap. V. t The general grounds of tliis institution have been stated. Vol. I., Book III., Chap. IV. The exceptions which limit its value, will be seeu in ths twenty-third chapter of the present book.

GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY. 59>

pedient, we secure many of the pretended benefits of aristocracy, as well as the real benefits of democracy. The discussion of national affairs, is brought before persons of superior education and wisdom : we may conceive them, not only the appointed medium of the sentiments of their constituents, but authorised, upon certain occasions, to act on their part, in the same manner as an unlearned parent delegates his authority over his child to a preceptor of greater accomplishments than himself. This idea, within proper limits, might probably be entitled to approbation, provided the elector had the wisdom not to recede from the exer- cise of his own understanding in political concerns, ezerted his censorial power over his representative, and were accustomed, if the representative were unable, after the fullest explanation, to bring him over to his opinion, to transfer his deputation to another.

The true value of the system of representation, seems to be as follows. Large promiscous assemblies, such as the assemblies of the people in Athens and Rome, must perhaps always be somewhat timiultuous, and liable to many of the vices of democracy enu- merated in the commencement of this chapter. A representative assembly, deputed on the part of the multitude, will escape many of their defects. But representative government is necessarily imperfect. It is, as was formerly observed,* a point to be re- gretted, in the abstract notion of civil society, that a majority should overbear a minority, and that the minority, after having opposed and remonstrated, should be obliged practically to sub. mit, to that which was the subject of their remonstrance. But this evil, inseparable from political government, is aggravated by representation, which removes the power of making regulations, one step furtlier from the people whose lot it is to obey them. Representation therefore, though a remedy, or rather a palliative, for certain evils, is not a remedy so excellent or complete, as should authorise us to rest in it, as the highest improvement of which the social order is capable, f

Such are the general features of democratical government : but this is a subject of too much importance to be dismissed, without the fullest examination of everything that may enable us to decide upon its merits. We will proceed to consider the further objec- tions that have been alleged against it.

• Vol. I., Book III., Chap. II. + See this subject pursued in Chap. XXIII., XXIV.

60 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURF.

;

CHAP. XV.

OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.

Importance of this topic. — 'Example in the doctrine of eternal punish' ment. — Its inutility argued— from history— from the nature of mind. — Second example : the religious sanction of a legislative system. — This idea is, 1, in strict construction impracticable — 2, injurious. — Third example: principle of political order. — Vice has no essentinl adva7i- tage over virtue. — Motives of political imposture. — Effects that attend it. — Situation of the advocates of this system, — Absurdity of theiif reasonings.

All the arguments that have been employed to prove the insuffi- ciency of democracy, grow out of tliis one root, the supposed necessity of deception and prejudice for restraining tlie turbulence of human passions. Without the assumption of this principle the argument could not be sustained for a moment. The direct and decisive answer would be, " Are kings and lords intrinsically •wiser and better than their humbler neighbours ? Can there be any solid ground of distinction, except what is founded in per- sonal merit ? Are not men, really and strictly considered, equal, except so far as what is personal and inalienable, establishes a difference ?" To these questions there can be but one reply, " Such is the order of reason and absolute truth, but artificial distinctions are necessary for the happiness of mankind. With- out deception and prejudice the turbulence of human passions cannot be restrained." Let us then examine the merits of this theory ; and these will be best illustrated by an instance.

It has been held, by some divines and some politicians, " that the doctrine, which teaches that men will be eternally tormented in another Avorld, for their errors and misconduct in this, is in its own nature imreasonable and absurd, but that it is necessary, to keep mankind in awe. Do we not see," say they, "that, not- withstanding this terrible denunciation, the w^orld is overrun with vice ? What then would be the case, if the irregular passions of mankind were set free from their present restraint, and they had not the fear of this retribution before their eyes ?"

This argument seems to be founded in a singular inattention to the dictates of history and experience, as well as to those of rea- son. The ancient Greeks and Romans had nothing of tliis dreadful apparatus of fire and brimstone, and a torment "the smoke of which ascends for ever and ever." Their religion was less personal, than political. They confided in the gods as protectors of tlie state, and this inspired them with invincible courage. In periods of public calamity, they found a ready conso- lation, in expiatory sacrifices to appease the anger of the gods. The attention of these beings was conceived to be principally directed to the ceremonial of religion, and very little to the moral

^F POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 61

tsxcellencies and defects of their votaries, which were supposed to be sufficiently provided for, by the inevitable tendency of moral excellence or defect to increase or diminish individual happiness. If their systems included the doctrine of a future existence, little attention was paid by them, to the connecting the moral deserts of individuals in this life, witli their comparative situation in another. In Homer, the Elysian fields are a seat of perpetual M'eariness and languor : Elysimn and Tartarus are inclosed in the same circuit ; and the difference between them, at most, amounts to no more, than the difference between sadness and misery. The same omission, of future retribution as the basis of moral obligation runs through the systems of the Persians, the Egyptians, the Celts, the Phcni- cians, the Jews, and indeed every system which has not been, in ■some manner or other, the offspring of the Christian. If we were to form our judgment of these nations by the above argument, we should expect to find every individual among them, cutting his neighbour's throat, and inured to the commission of every enormity. But they were, in reality, as susceptible of the regu- lations of government, and the order of society, as those, whose imaginations have been most artfully terrified by the threats of future retribution ; and some of them were much more generous, •determined, and attached to the public weal.

Nothing can be more contrary to a just observation of the nature of the human mind, than to suppose that these specxilative tenets, have much influence in making mankind more virtuous, than they would otherwise be found. Human beings are placed in the midst of a system of things, all the parts of which are strictly connected with each other, and exhibit a sympathy and unison, by means of which the whole is rendered familiar, and, as it were, inmate to the mind. The respect I shall obtain, and the happiness I shall enjoy, for the remainder of my life, are topics of which I feel the entire comprehension. I understand the value of ease, liberty, and knowledge, to myself, and my fellow men. I perceive that these things, and a certain conduct intending them, are connected, in the visible system of the world, and not by any supernatural and unusual interposition. But s\ly^ that can be told me of a future world, a world of spirits, or of glorified bodies, where the employments are spiritual, and the first cause is to be rendered a subject of immediate perception, or of a scene of retribution, where the mind, doomed to everlasting inactivity, shall be wholly a prey to the upbraidings of remorse, find the sarcasms of devils, is so foreign to everytliing with •.yhich I am acquainted, that my mind in vain endeavours to be- lieve, or to understand it. If doctrines like these occupy the habitual reflections of any, it is not of the lawless, the violent, and ungovernable, but of the sober and conscientious, overwhelming them witli gratuitous anxiety, or persuading them passively to submit to despotism and injustice, that they may receive the recompense of their patience hereafter. This objection is equally applicable to every species of deception. Fables may amuse the

62 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.

imagination; but can never stand in the place of reason and judgment as the principles of human conduct. — Let us proceed to a second instance.

It is affirmed by Rousseau, in his treatise of the Social Con- tract, "that no legislator could ever establish a grand political system, without having recourse to religious imposture. To render a people, who are yet to receive the impressions of politi- cal wisdom, susceptible of the evidence of that wisdom, would be to convert the effect of civilisation into the cause. The legislator being deprived of assistance from the two grand operative causes among men, reasoning and force, is obliged to have recourse to an authority of a different sort, which may draw without compul- sion, and persuade without elucidation."*

These are the dreams of a fertile conception, busy in the erec- tion of imaginary systems. To a wary and sceptical mind, that project would seem to promise little substantial benefit, which set out from so erroneous a principle. To terrify or seduce men into the reception of a system, the reasonableness of which they were unable to perceive, is surely a very questionable method for ren- dering them sober, judicious, reasonable, and happy.

* " Four qu'unpeuple naissant put gouter les saines maximes de la poli- tique et suivre les regies fondamentales de la raison de Vetat, ilfavdrott que Veffet pat dovenir la cause, que V esprit social, qui doit etre I'ouvrage de r institution, prcsiddt a Vinstitution meme, et que les hommes fussent avant les lots ce qu'ils doivent devenir par elles. Amsi done le legisldtur ne pou- rant employer ni la force ni le raisonnement; c^est une necessitequHl recoure a une autorite d'un autre ordre, qui puisse entrainer sans violence, et per- suader sans convaincre." Du Contrat Social, Liv. II. chap. vii.

Having frequently quoted Kousseau in the course of this work, it may be allowable to say one word of his general merits, as a moral and political writer. He has been subjected to continual ridicule, for the extravagance of the proposition with which he began his literary career ; that the savage state, Avas the genuine and proper condition of man. It was however by a very slight mistake, that he missed the opposite opinion which it is the busi- ness of the present enquiry to establish. He only substituted, as the topic of his eulogium, the period that preceded government and laws, instead of the period that may possibly follow upon their abolition. It is sufficiently observable that, where he describes the enthusiastic influx of truth, that first made him a moral and political writer [in his second letter to Malesherbes], he does not so much as mention his fundamental error, but only the just prin- ciples which led him into it. He was the first to teach, that the imperfections of government were the only perennial source of the vices of mankind ; and this principle was adopted from him by Helvetius and others. But he saw further than this, that government, however reformed, was little capable of affording solid benefit to mankind, which they did not. This prkiciple has since (probably without being suggested by the writings of Eousseau) been expressed with great perspicuity and energy, but not developed, by Thomas Paine, in the first page of his Common Sense.

Eousseau, notwithstanding his great genius, was full of weakness and pre- judice. His Emile deserves perhaps, upon the whole, to be regarded as one of the principal reservoirs of philosophical truth, as yet existing in the world ; though with a perpetual mixture of absurdity and mistake. In his ■writings expressly political, Du Contrat Social and Considerations sur la Pologne, the superiority of his genius seems to desert him. To his merits as an investigator, we should not forget to add, that the term eloquence, is per- haps more precisely descriptive of his mode of composition, than of that of any other writer that ever existed.

OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 63

In reality, no grand political system ever was introduced in the manner Rousseau describes. Lycurgus, as he observes, obtained the sanction of the oracle at Delphi to the constitution he had established. But was it by an appeal to AppoUo, that he per- suaded the Spartans to renoimce the use of money, to consent to an equal division of land, and to adopt various other regulations, the most contrary to their preconceived habits and ideas ? No : it was by an appeal to their understandings, in the midst of long debate and perpetual counteraction, and through the inflexibility of his courage and resolution, that he at last attained his purpose. Lycurgus thought proper, after the whole was concluded, to obtain the sanction of the oracle, conceiving that it became him to neglect no method of substantiating the benefit he had con- ferred on his countrymen. It is indeed scarcely possible to per- suade a society of men to adopt any system, without convincing them that it is their wisdom to adopt it. It is difiicult to conceive a company of such miserable dupes, as to receive a code without any imagination that it is salutary, or wise, or just ; but upon this single recommendation that it is delivered to them from the gods. The only reasonable, and infinitely the most efficacious method of changing the established customs of any people, is by creating in them a general opinion of their erroneousness and insufficiency.

But, if it be indeed impracticable to persuade men into the adoption of any system, without employing as our principal argu- ment, the intrinsic rectitude of that system, what is the argument which he would desire to use, who had most at heart the welfare and improvement of the persons concerned ? Would he begin by teaching them to reason well, or to reason ill ? by imnerving tlieir mind with prejudice, or new stringing it with truth ? How many arts, and how noxious to those towards whom we employ them, are necessary, if we would successfully deceive ? We must not only leave their reason in indolence at first, but endeavour to supersede its exertion in any futm-e instance. If men be, for the present, kept right by prejudice, what will become of them here- after, if, by any future penetration, or any accidental discovery, this prejudice shall be annihilated ? Detection is not always the fruit of systematical improvement, but may be efiected by some solitary exertion of tlie faculty, or some luminous and irresistible argument, wliile everything else remains as it was. If wc would first deceive, and then maintain our deception un- impaired, we shall need penal statutes, and licensers of the press, and hired ministers of falsehood and imposture. Admirable modes these for the propagation of wisdom and \irtue !

There is another case, similar to that stated by Rousseau, upon which much stress has been laid by political writers. ** Obedi- ence." say they, "must either be courted or compelled. We must either make a judicious use of the prejudices and the ignorance of mankind, or be contented to have no hold wpon them but their fears, and to maintain social order entirely by the severity of punishment. To dispense us from this pauiful neces-

564 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.

sity, authority ought carefully to be invested with a sort of magic persuasion. Citizens should serve their country, not with a frigid submission that scrupulously weighs its duties, but with an enthusiasm that places its honour in its loyalty. For this reason, our governors and superiors must not be spoken of Avith levity. They must be considered, independently of their individual character, as deriving a sacredness from their office. They must be accompanied with splendour and veneration. Advantage must be taken of the imperfection of mankind. We ought to gain over their judgments through the medium of their senses, and not , leave the conclusions to be drawn, to the uncertain process of immature reason.*

This is still the same argument under another form. It takes for granted, that a true observation of things, is inadequate to teach us our duty ; and, of consequence, recommends an equivocal engine, which may, with equal ease, be employed in the service of justice and injustice, but would surely appear somewhat more iu its place in the service of the latter. It is injustice that stands most in need of superstition and mystery, and will most frequently be a gainer by the imposition. This hypothesis proceeds upon an assumption, which young men sometimes impute to their parents and preceptors. It says, " Mankind must be kept in ignorance : if they know vice, they will love it too well ; if they perceive the charms of error, they will never return to the simplicity of truth." And, strange as it may appear, this bare-faced and unplausi- ble argument, has been the foundation of a very popular and generally received hypothesis. It has taught politicians to believe, that a people, once sunk into decrepitude, as it has been termed, could never afterwards be endued wdth purity and vigour.f

There arc two modes, according to which the minds of human beings may te influenced, by him who is desirous to conduct them. The first of these, is a strong and commanding picture, taking hold of the imagination, and surprising the judgment ; the second, a distinct and unanswerable statement of reasons, which, the oftener they are reflected upon, and the more they are sifted, will be found by so much the more cogent.

One of the tritest and most general, as well as most self-evident, maxims in the science of the human mind, is, that the former of these is only adapted to a temporary purpose, while the latter alone is adequate to a purpose that is durable. How comes it then that, in the business of politics and government, the pur- poses of which are evidently not temporary, the liillacious mode of proceeding should have been so gene.vally and so eagerly resorted to ?

This may be accoiinted for from two considerations : first the diffidence, and secondly, the vanity and self-applause, of legislators

• This argument is the gieat common place of Mr. Burke's Reflections on the Uevolution in France, and of a multitude of other works, ancient and modern, upon the subject of government.

T Book I., Chap. \ II.

OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 65

and statesmen. It is an arduous task, always to assign reasons to those, whose conduct we would direct ; it is by no means easy, to answer objections and remove diflSculties. It requires patience ; it demands profound science and severe meditation. This is the reason why, in the instance already alluded to, parents and pre- ceptors find a refuge for their indolence, while by false pretences they cheat the young into compliance, in preference to showing them, as far as they may be capable of understanding it, the true face of things. Statesmen secretly distrust their own powers, and therefore substitute quackery in the room of principle.

But, beside the recommendations that quackery derives from indolence and ignorance, it is also calculated to gratify the vanity of him that employs it. He that would reason witli another, and honestly explain to him the motives of the action he recom- mends, descends to a footing of equality. But he who imdertakes to delude us, and fashion us to his purpose by a specious appear- ance, has a feeling that he is our master. Though his task is neither so difficult nor so honourable as that of the ingenuous dealer, he regards it as more flattering. At every turn he admires h^ own dexterity ; he triumphs in the success of his artifices, and delights to remark how completely mankind are his dupes.

There are disadvantages of no ordinary magnitude that attend upon the practice of political imposture.

It is utterly incompatible with the wholesome tone of the human understanding. Man, we have seen some reason to be- lieve, is a being of progressive nature, and capable of unlimited improvement. But Ms progress must be upon the plain line of reason and truth. As long as he keeps the open road, his journey is prosperous and promising ; but, if he turn aside into by-patlis, he will soon come to a point, where there is no longer either avenue or track. He that is accustomed to a deceitful medium, will be ignorant of tlie true colours of things. He that is often imposed on, will be no judge of the fair and the genuine. Human understanding cannot be tampered with, with impimity; if we admit prejudice, deception and implicit faith in one subject, the inquisitive energies of the mind will be more or less weakened in all. This is a fact so well known, that the persons who recom- mend the governing mankind by deception, are, to a man, advo- cates of the opinion, that the human species is essentially sta- tionary.

A further disadvantage of political imposture, is, that the bubble is hourly in danger of bursting, and the delusion of coming to an end. The playing upon our passions and our imagination, as we have already said, can never fully answer any but a temporary purpose. In delusion there is always inconsistency. It will look plausibly, when placed in a certain light ; but it will not bear handling, and examining on all sides. It suits us in a cer- tain animated tone of mind ; but in a calm and tranquil season, it is destitute of power. Politics and government are affairs of a

20.— VOL. n. F

66 Of 1»0LITICAL IMPOSTURE.

durable concern; they should therefore rest upon a basis that ■will abide the test.

The system of political imposture divides men into two classes, one of which is to think and reason for the whole, and the other to take the conclusions of their superiors on trust. This distinc- tion is not founded in the nature of things ; there is no such in- herent difference between man and man, as it thinks proper to suppose. Nor is it less injurious, than it is unfounded. The two classes which it creates, must be more and less than man. It is too much to expect of the former, while we consign to them an unnatural monopoly, that they should rigidly consult for the good of the whole. It is an iniquitous requisition upon the latter, that they should never employ their understandings, or penetrate into the essences of things, but always rest in a deceitful appear- ance. It is iniquitous, to deprive tliem of that chance for addi- tional wisdom, which would result from a greater number of minds being employed in the enquiry, and from the disinterested and impartial spirit that might be expected to accompany it.

How strangely incongruous is that state of mind, which the system we are here examining, is adapted to recommend. Shall those persons who govern the springs, and carry on the deception, be themselves in the secret of the imposition or not ? This is a fvmdamental question. It has often been started, in relation to the authors or abettors of a new fabric of superstition. On the one hand, we should be apt to imagine, that, for a machine to be guided well, it is desirable that those who guide it, should be acquainted ■with its principle. "We should suppose that, otherwise the governors "we speak of, would not always know the extent and the particulars as to which the deception was salutary ; and that, where " the blind led the blind," the public welfare would not be in a much better condition, that the greatest advocates of imposture could suppose it to be under the auspices of truth. But tlien again, on the other hand, no man can be powerful in persuasion, in a point ■where he has not first persuaded himself. Beside that the secret must, first or last, be confided to so many hands, that it will be continually in danger of being discovered by the public at large. So that for these reasons it would seem best, that he, who first invented the art of leading mankind at pleasure, and set the wheels of political craft in motion, should suffer his secret to die ■with him.

And what sort of character must exist in a state thus modified ? Those at the head of affairs, if they be acquainted with the principle of the political machine, must be perpetually anxious, lest mankind should unexpectedly recover the use of their facul- ties. Falsehood must be their discipline and incessant study. We will suppose, that they adopt this system of impost-are, in the first instance, from the most benevolent motives. But will the continual practice of concealment, hypocrisy and artifice, make no breaches in their character ? Will they, in despite of habit,

OF POLITICAL IMPOSTUBE. 67

retain all that ingenuousness of heart which is the first principle of virtue ?

With respect to the multitude, in this system, they are placed in the middle between two fearful calamities, suspicion on one side, and infatuation on the other. Even children, when their parents explain to them, that there is one system of morality for youth, and another for mature age, and endeavour to cheat them into submission, are generally found to suspect the trick. It can- not reasonably be thought, that the mass of the governed in any country, should be less clear-sighted than children. Thus they are kept in perpetual vibration, between rebellious discontent, and infatuated credulity. Sometimes they suppose their governors to be the messengers and favourites of heaven, a supernatural order of beings ; and sometimes they suspect them to be a com- bination of usurpers to rob and oppress them. For they dare not indulge themselves in solving the dilemma, because they are held in awe by oppression and the gallows.

Is this the genuine state of man ? Is this a condition so desir- able, that we should be anxious to entail it upon posterity for ever ? Is it high treason to Lnquire whether it may be melior- ated? Are we sure, that every change from such a situation of things, is severely to be deprecated ? Is it not worth while, to suffer that experiment, which shall consist in a gradual, and almost insensible, abolition of such mischievous institutions ?

It may not be uninstructive to consider what sort of discourse must be held, or book ^vritten, by him who should make himself the champion of political impostiure. He cannot avoid secretly wishing that the occasion had never existed. What he under- takes is to lengthen the reign of " salutary prejudices." For this end, he must propose to himself the two opposite purposes, of prolonging the deception, and proving that it is necessary to deceive. By whom is it that he intends his book should be read ? Chiefly by the governed ; the governors need little inducement to continue the system. But, at the same time that he tells us, we should cherish the mistake as mistake, and the prejudice as pre- judice, he is himself lifting the veU, and destroying his own system. While the affair of our superiors and the enlightened, is simply to impose upon us, the task is plain and intelligible. But, the moment they begin to write books, to persuade us that we ought to be willing to be deceived, it may well be suspected that their system is upon the decline. It is not to be wondered at, if the greatest genius, and the sincerest and most benevo- lent champion, should fail in producing a perspicuous or very persuasive treatise, when he undertakes so hopeless a task.

The argument of such a system must, when attentively ex- amined, be the most untenable that can be imagined. It imder- takes to prove that we must not be governed by reason. To prove ! How prove ? Necessarily, from the resources of reason. What can be more contradictory ? If I must not trust the con- cliwioiis of reason relative to the intrinsic value of Uiiugs, why

F 2

68 OF THE CAUSES OF WAR.

trust to your reasons in favour of the benefit of being deceived ? You cut up your own argument by the roots. If I must re- ject the dictates of reason in one point, there can be no possible cause why I should adopt tliem in another. INIoral reasons and inducements, as we have repeatedly shown, consist singly in this, an estimate of consequences. What can supersede this estimate ? Not an opposite estimate ; for, by the nature of morality, the pur- pose, in the first instance, is, to take into accoimt all the conse- quences. Not something else, for a consideration of consequences is the only thing, with which morality and practical wisdom aro directly concerned. The moment I dismiss the information of my own eyes and my owii understanding, there is, in all justice, an end to persuasion, expostulation, or conviction. There is no pretence, by which I can disallow the authority of inference and deduction in one instance, that will not justify a similar proceed- ing in every other. He that, in any case, designedly surrenders the use of his own tmderstanding, is condemned to remain for ever at the beck of contingence and caprice, and is even "bound in consistency, no more to frame his course by the results of demonstration, than by the wildest dreams of delirium and insanity.

CHAP. XVI.

OF THE CAUSES OF WAB.

Offensive war contrary to the nature of democracy. — Defensive u-ar ex- ceedingly rare. — Erroneousness of the ideas usually annexed to the phrase, our country. — Nature of war delineated. — Insufficient causes of war — the acquiring a healthful and vigorous tone to the public mind — the putting a termination upon private insults — the menaces or preparations of' our neighbours — the daiigerous consequences of concession — the vindication of national honour. — Two legitimate causes of war.

Exclusively of those objections which have been urged against the democratical system, as it relates to the internal management of affairs, there are others, upon which considerable stress has been laid, in relation to the transactions of a state with foreign powers, to war and peace, and to treaties of alliance and com- merce.

There is indeed an eminent difference, with respect to these, between the democratical system and all others. It is perhaps impossible to show, that a single war ever did, or could have taken place, in the history of mankind, that did not in some way originate with those two great political monopolies, monarchy and

or THE CXtJSES OP WAR. 69

aristocracy. This might have formed an additional article, in the catalogue of the evils to which they have given birth, little inferior to any of tliose we have enumerated. But nothing could be more idle, than to overcharge a subject, the evidence of which is irresistible.

What could be the source of misunderstanding between states, where no man, or body of men, found encouragement to the ac- cumulation of privileges to himself, at the expence of the rest ? Why should they pursue additional wealth or territory ? These wouild lose their value, the moment they became the property of all. No man can cultivate more than a certain portion of land. Money is representative, and not real wealth. If every man in the society possessed a double portion of money, bread, and every other commodity, would sell at double tlieir present price, and the relative situation of each individual, would be just what it had been before. War and conquest cannot be beneficial to the community. Their tendency is to elevate a few at the ex- pence of the rest ; and consequently they will never be under- taken, but where the many are the instruments of the few. But this cannot happen in a democracy, till the democracy, shall become such only in name. If expedients can be devised for maintaining this species of government in its purity, or if there be anything, in the nature of wisdom and intellectual improve- ment, which has a tendency daily to make truth more prevalent over falsehood, the principle of offensive war will be extirpated. But this principle enters into the very essence of monarchy and aristocracy.

It is not meant here to be insinuated, that democracy has not repeatedly been a source of war. It was eminently so among the ancient Romans ; the aristocracy found in it an obvious expedient for diverting the attention and encroachments of the people. It may be expected to be so, wherever the form of government is complicated, and the nation at hrge is enabled to become formid- able to a band of usurpers. But war will be foreign to the cha- racter of any people, in proportion as their democracy becomes simple and unalloyed.

IMean while, though the principle of offensive war be incompati- ble with tlie genius of democracy, a democratical state may be placed in the neighbourhood of states whose government is less equal, and therefore it will be proper to enquire into the supposed disadvantages which the democratical state may sustain in the contest. The only species of war in which it can consistently be engaged, will be that the object of which is to repel wanton invasion. Such invasions will be little likely frequently to occur. For what purpose should a corrupt state attack a coimtry, that has no feature in common with itself upon which to build a mis- imderstanding, and that presents, in the very nature of its govern- ment, a pledge of its inoffensiveness and neutrality ? Add to which, it will presently appear, that this state, which yields the fewest incitements to provoke an attack, will prove a very

70 OF THE CAUSES OF WAR.

undesirable adversary to those by whom an attack shall be com- menced.

One of the most essential principles of political justice is diametrically the reverse of that, which impostors, as well as patriots, have too frequently agreed to recommend. Their per- petual exhortation has been, "Love your country. Sink the personal existence of individuals in the existence of the commu- nity. Make little account of the particular men of whom the society consists, but aim at the general wealth, prosperity, and glory. Purify your mind from the gross ideas of sense, and ele- vate it to the single contemplation of that abstract individual, of which particular men are so many detached members, valuable only for the place they fill."*

The lessons of reason on this head are different from these. " Society is an ideal existence, and not, on its own account, en- titled to the smallest regard. The wealth, prosperity and glory of the whole are unintelligible chimeras. Set no value on any- thing, but in proportion as you are convinced of its tendency to make individual men happy and virtuous. Benefit, by every practicable mode, man wherever he exists ; but be not deceived by the specious idea of aff'ording services to a body of men, for which no individual man is the better. Society was instituted, not for the sake of glory, not to furnish splendid materials for the page of history, but for the benefit of its members. The love of our country, as the term has usually been understood, has too often been found to be one of those specious illusions, which are employed by impostors, for the purpose of rendering the multi- tude the blind instruments of their crooked designs."

In the mean time, the maxims which are here controverted, have had by so much the more success in the world, as they bear some resemblance to the purest sentiments of virtue. Virtue is nothing else hut kind and sympathetic feelings reduced into prin- ciple. Undisciplined feeling would induce me, now to interest myself exclusively for one man, and now for another, to be eagerly solicitous for those who are present to me, and to forget the absent. Feeling ripened into virtue, embraces the interests of the whole human race, and constantly proposes to itself the production of the greatest quantity of happiness. But, while it anxiously adjusts the balance of interests, and yields to no case, however urgent, to the prejudice of the whole, it keeps aloof from the unmeaning rant of romance, and imiformly recollects that happiness, in order to be real, must necessarily be individual.

The love of our country, has often been found to be a deceitful principle, as its direct tendency, is to set the interests of one division of mankind in opposition to another, and to establish a preference, built upon accidental relations, and not upon reason. Much of what has been understood by the appellation, is excel- lent, but perhaps nothing that can be brought within the strict

♦ Du Contrat Social, S;c, %c. 8sc.

OP THE CAUSES OP WAR. 71

interpretation of the phrase. A wise and well informed man will not fail to be the votary of liberty and justice. He will be ready to exert himself in their defence, wherever they exist. It cannot be a matter of indifference to him, when his own liberty and that of other men with whose merits and capacities he has the best opportunity of being acquainted, are involved in the event of the struggle to be made. But his attachment will be to the cause, as the cause of man, and not to the country. Wherever there are individuals, who imderstand the value of political justice, and are prepared to assert it, that is his country. Wherever he can most contribute to the diffusion of these principles and the real happi- ness of mankind, that is his country. Nor does he desire, for any country, any other benefit than justice.

To apply these principles to the subject of war. — And, before that application can be adequately made, it is necessary to recol- lect, for a moment, the force of the term.

Because individuals were liable to error, and suffered their ap- prehensions of justice to be perverted by a bias in favour of themselves, government was instituted. Because nations were susceptible of a similar weakness, and could find no sufficient umpire to whom to appeal, war was introduced. Men were in- duced deliberately to seek each other's lives, and to adjudge the controversies between them, not according to the dictates of rea- son and justice, but as either should prove most successful in devastation and murder. This was no doubt in the first instance the extremity of exasperation and rage. But it has since been converted into a trade. One part of the nation pays another part, to murder and be murdered in their stead ; and the most trivial causes, a supposed insult, or a sally of youthful ambition, have sufficed to deluge provinces with blood.

We can have no adequate idea of this evil, unless we visit, at least in imagination, a field of battle. Here men deliberately destroy each other by thousands, without resentment against, or even knowledge of, each other. The plain is strewed with death in all its forms. Anguish and wounds display the diversified modes in which they can torment the human frame. Towns are burned ; ships are blown up in the air, while the mangled limbs descend on every side ; the fields are laid desolate ; the wives of the inhabitants exposed to brutal insult ; and their children driven forth to hunger and nakedness. It is an inferior circumstance, though by no means unattended with the widest and most deplor- able effects, when we add, to these scenes of horror, and the subversion of all ideas of moral justice they must occasion in the auditors and spectators, the immense treasures which are wning, in the form of taxes, from those inhabitants whose residence is removed from the seat of war.

After this enumeration, we may venture to enquire what are the justifiable causes and rules of war.

It is not a justifiable reason, " that we imagine our own people vould be rendered more cordial and orderly, if we could find a

72 OF THE CAUSES OF WAR.

neighbour mth whom to quarrel, and who might serve as a touch- stone to try the characters and dispositions of individuals among ourselves."* We are not at liberty to have recourse to the most complicated and atrocious of all miscliiels, in the way of an ex- periment.

It is not a justifiable reason, " that we have been exposed to certain insults, and that tyrants, perhaps, have delighted in treat- ing with contempt, the citizens of our happy state who have visited their dominions." Government ought to protect the tran- quillity of those who reside within the sphere of its functions j but, if individuals think proper to visit other countries, they must be delivered over to the protection of general reason. Some proportion must be observed, between the evil of which we com- plain, and the evil which the nature of the proposed remedy inevitably includes.

It is not a justifiable reason, "that our neighbour is preparing, or menacing hostilities." If we be obliged to prepare in our turn, the inconvenience is only equal ; and it is not to be believed, that a despotic country is capable of more exertion than a free one, when the task incumbent on the latter is indispensible precaution.

It has sometimes been held to be sound reasoning upon this subject, " that we ought not to yield little things, which may not, in themselves, be sufficiently valuable to authorise this tremendous appeal, because a disposition to yield, only invites further experi- ments." Much otherwise ; at least when the character of such a nation is sufficiently understood. A people that will not con- tend for nominal and trivial objects, that adheres to the precise line of unalterable justice, and that does not fail to be moved at the moment that it ought to be moved, is not the people that its neighbours will delight to urge to extremities.

" The vindication of national honour," is a very insufficient reason for hostilities. True honour is to be found only in in- tegrity and justice. It has been doubted, how far a view to reputation, ought, in matters of inferior moment, to be permitted to influence the conduct of individuals ; but, let the case of indi- viduals be decided as it may, reputation, considered as a separate motive in the instance of nations, can perhaps never be justifiable. In individuals, it seems as if I might, consistently with the ut- most real integrity, be so misconstrued and misrepresented by

* The reader will easily perceive that the pretences, by which the people of France were instigated to a declaration of Avar, in April, 1792, were in the author's mind in this and the two following articles. Nor will a few lines be misspent in this note, in stating the feelings of a dispassionate observer, upon the wantonness with which they have appeared ready, upon different occasions, to proceed to extremities. If policy were in question, it might be doubted, whether the confederacy of kings would ever have been brought into action against them, had it not been for their precipitation ; and it might be asked, what impression they must expect to find produced upon the minds of other states, by their intemperate commission of hostility ? But that equal humanity, which prescribes to us, never, by a hasty interference, to determine the doubtful balance in favour of murder, is a superior con- sideration, iu comparison witli which policy is scarcely worthy to be named.

OF THE OBJECT OP WAR. 73

others, as to render my efforts at usefulness almost necessarily abortive. But tliis reason does not apply to tlie case of nations. Their real story cannot easily be suppressed. Usefulness and public spu-it, in relation to them, chiefly belong to the transactions of their members among themselves ; and their influence in the transactions of neighbouruig nations, is a consideration evidently