To observing men it must have appeared from the beginning, that the

majority of the third estate, in conjunction with such a deputation from

the clergy as I have described, whilst it pursued the destruction of the

nobility, would inevitably become subservient to the worst designs of

individuals in that class. In the spoil and humiliation of their own

order these individuals would possess a sure fund for the pay of their

new followers. To squander away the objects which made the happiness of

their fellows would be to them no sacrifice at all. Turbulent,

discontented men of quality, in proportion as they are puffed up with

personal pride and arrogance, generally despise their own order. One of

the first symptoms they discover of a selfish and mischievous ambition

is a profligate disregard of a dignity which they partake with others.

To be attached to the subdivision, to love the little platoon we belong

to in society, is the first principle (the germ, as it were) of public

affections. It is the first link in the series by which we proceed

towards a love to our country and to mankind. The interest of that

portion of social arrangement is a trust in the hands of all those who

compose it; and as none but bad men would justify it in abuse, none but

traitors would barter it away for their own personal advantage.

There were, in the time of our civil troubles in England, (I do not know

whether you have any such in your Assembly in France,) several persons,

like the then Earl of Holland, who by themselves or their families had

brought an odium on the throne by the prodigal dispensation of its

bounties towards them, who afterwards joined in the rebellions arising

from the discontents of which they were themselves the cause: men who

helped to subvert that throne to which they owed, some of them, their

existence, others all that power which they employed to ruin their

benefactor. If any bounds are set to the rapacious demands of that sort

of people, or that others are permitted to partake in the objects they

would engross, revenge and envy soon fill up the craving void that is

left in their avarice. Confounded by the complication of distempered

passions, their reason is disturbed; their views become vast and

perplexed,--to others inexplicable, to themselves uncertain. They find,

on all sides, bounds to their unprincipled ambition in any fixed order

of things; but in the fog and haze of confusion all is enlarged, and

appears without any limit.

When men of rank sacrifice all ideas of dignity to an ambition without a

distinct object, and work with low instruments and for low ends, the

whole composition becomes low and base. Does not something like this now

appear in France? Does it not produce something ignoble and inglorious:

a kind of meanness in all the prevalent policy; a tendency in all that

is done to lower along with individuals all the dignity and importance

of the state? Other revolutions have been conducted by persons who,

whilst they attempted or affected changes in the commonwealth,

sanctified their ambition by advancing the dignity of the people whose

peace they troubled. They had long views. They aimed at the rule, not at

the destruction of their country. They were men of great civil and great

military talents, and if the terror, the ornament of their age. They

were not like Jew brokers contending with each other who could best

remedy with fraudulent circulation and depreciated paper the

wretchedness and ruin brought on their country by their degenerate

councils. The compliment made to one of the great bad men of the old

stamp (Cromwell) by his kinsman, a favorite poet of that time, shows

what it was he proposed, and what indeed to a great degree he

accomplished in the success of his ambition:--

"Still as _you_ rise, the _state_, exalted too,

Finds no distemper whilst 't is changed by _you_;

Changed like the world's great scene, when without noise

The rising sun night's _vulgar_ lights destroys."

These disturbers were not so much like men usurping power as asserting

their natural place in society. Their rising was to illuminate and

beautify the world. Their conquest over their competitors was by

outshining them. The hand, that, like a destroying angel, smote the

country, communicated to it the force and energy under which it

suffered. I do not say, (God forbid!) I do not say that the virtues of

such men were to be taken as a balance to their crimes; but they were

some corrective to their effects. Such was, as I said, our Cromwell.

Such were your whole race of Guises, Condés, and Colignys. Such the

Richelieus, who in more quiet times acted in the spirit of a civil war.

Such, as better men, and in a less dubious cause, were your Henry the

Fourth, and your Sully, though nursed in civil confusions, and not

wholly without some of their taint. It is a thing to be wondered at, to

see how very soon France, when she had a moment to respire, recovered

and emerged from the longest and most dreadful civil war that ever was

known in any nation. Why? Because, among all their massacres, they had

not slain the _mind_ in their country. A conscious dignity, a noble

pride, a generous sense of glory and emulation, was not extinguished. On

the contrary, it was kindled and inflamed. The organs also of the state,

however shattered, existed. All the prizes of honor and virtue, all the

rewards, all the distinctions, remained. But your present confusion,

like a palsy, has attacked the fountain of life itself. Every person in

your country, in a situation to be actuated by a principle of honor, is

disgraced and degraded, and can entertain no sensation of life, except

in a mortified and humiliated indignation. But this generation will

quickly pass away. The next generation of the nobility will resemble the

artificers and clowns, and money-jobbers, usurers, and Jews, who will be

always their fellows, sometimes their masters. Believe me, Sir, those

who attempt to level never equalize. In all societies consisting of

various descriptions of citizens, some description must be uppermost.

The levellers, therefore, only change and pervert the natural order of

things: they load the edifice of society by setting up in the air what

the solidity of the structure requires to be on the ground. The

associations of tailors and carpenters, of which the republic (of Paris,

for instance) is composed, cannot be equal to the situation into which,

by the worst of usurpations, an usurpation on the prerogatives of

Nature, you attempt to force them.

The Chancellor of France, at the opening of the States, said, in a tone

of oratorial flourish, that all occupations were honorable. If he meant

only that no honest employment was disgraceful, he would not have gone

beyond the truth. But in asserting that anything is honorable, we imply

some distinction in its favor. The occupation of a hair-dresser, or of a

working tallow-chandler, cannot be a matter of honor to any person,--to

say nothing of a number of other more servile employments. Such

descriptions of men ought not to suffer oppression from the state; but

the state suffers oppression, if such as they, either individually or

collectively, are permitted to rule. In this you think you are combating

prejudice, but you are at war with Nature.[86]

I do not, my dear Sir, conceive you to be of that sophistical, captious

spirit, or of that uncandid dullness, as to require, for every general

observation or sentiment, an explicit detail of the correctives and

exceptions which reason will presume to be included in all the general

propositions which come from reasonable men. You do not imagine that I

wish to confine power, authority, and distinction to blood and names and

titles. No, Sir. There is no qualification for government but virtue and

wisdom, actual or presumptive. Wherever they are actually found, they

have, in whatever state, condition, profession, or trade, the passport

of Heaven to human place and honor. Woe to the country which would madly

and impiously reject the service of the talents and virtues, civil,

military, or religious, that are given to grace and to serve it; and

would condemn to obscurity everything formed to diffuse lustre and glory

around a state! Woe to that country, too, that, passing into the

opposite extreme, considers a low education, a mean, contracted view of

things, a sordid, mercenary occupation, as a preferable title to

command! Everything ought to be open,--but not indifferently to every

man. No rotation, no appointment by lot, no mode of election operating

in the spirit of sortition or rotation, can be generally good in a

government conversant in extensive objects; because they have no

tendency, direct or indirect, to select the man with a view to the duty,

or to accommodate the one to the other. I do not hesitate to say that

the road to eminence and power, from obscure condition, ought not to be

made too easy, nor a thing too much of course. If rare merit be the

rarest of all rare things, it ought to pass through some sort of

probation. The temple of honor ought to be seated on an eminence. If it

be opened through virtue, let it be remembered, too, that virtue is

never tried but by some difficulty and some struggle.

Nothing is a due and adequate representation of a state, that does not

represent its ability, as well as its property. But as ability is a

vigorous and active principle, and as property is sluggish, inert, and

timid, it never can be safe from the invasions of ability, unless it be,

out of all proportion, predominant in the representation. It must be

represented, too, in great masses of accumulation, or it is not rightly

protected. The characteristic essence of property, formed out of the

combined principles of its acquisition and conservation, is to be

_unequal_. The great masses, therefore, which excite envy, and tempt

rapacity, must be put out of the possibility of danger. Then they form a

natural rampart about the lesser properties in all their gradations. The

same quantity of property which is by the natural course of things

divided among many has not the same operation. Its defensive power is

weakened as it is diffused. In this diffusion each man's portion is less

than what, in the eagerness of his desires, he may flatter himself to

obtain by dissipating the accumulations of others. The plunder of the

few would, indeed, give but a share inconceivably small in the

distribution to the many. But the many are not capable of making this

calculation; and those who lead them to rapine never intend this

distribution.

The power of perpetuating our property in our families is one of the

most valuable and interesting circumstances belonging to it, and that

which tends the most to the perpetuation of society itself. It makes our

weakness subservient to our virtue; it grafts benevolence even upon

avarice. The possessors of family wealth, and of the distinction which

attends hereditary possession, (as most concerned in it,) are the

natural securities for this transmission. With us the House of Peers is

formed upon this principle. It is wholly composed of hereditary

property and hereditary distinction, and made, therefore, the third of

the legislature, and, in the last event, the sole judge of all property

in all its subdivisions. The House of Commons, too, though not

necessarily, yet in fact, is always so composed, in the far greater

part. Let those large proprietors be what they will, (and they have

their chance of being amongst the best,) they are, at the very worst,

the ballast in the vessel of the commonwealth. For though hereditary

wealth, and the rank which goes with it, are too much idolized by

creeping sycophants, and the blind, abject admirers of power, they are

too rashly slighted in shallow speculations of the petulant, assuming,

short-sighted coxcombs of philosophy. Some decent, regulated

preëminence, some preference (not exclusive appropriation) given to

birth, is neither unnatural, nor unjust, nor impolitic.

It is said that twenty-four millions ought to prevail over two hundred

thousand. True; if the constitution of a kingdom be a problem of

arithmetic. This sort of discourse does well enough with the lamp-post

for its second: to men who _may_ reason calmly it is ridiculous The will

of the many, and their interest, must very often differ; and great will

be the difference when they make an evil choice. A government of five

hundred country attorneys and obscure curates is not good for

twenty-four millions of men, though it were chosen by eight-and-forty

millions; nor is it the better for being guided by a dozen of persons of

quality who have betrayed their trust in order to obtain that power. At

present, you seem in everything to have strayed out of the high road of

Nature. The property of France does not govern it. Of course property

is destroyed, and rational liberty has no existence. All you have got

for the present is a paper circulation, and a stock-jobbing

constitution: and as to the future, do you seriously think that the

territory of France, upon the republican system of eighty-three

independent municipalities, (to say nothing of the parts that compose

them,) can ever be governed as one body, or can ever be set in motion by

the impulse of one mind? When the National Assembly has completed its

work, it will have accomplished its ruin. These commonwealths will not

long bear a state of subjection to the republic of Paris. They will not

bear that this one body should monopolize the captivity of the king, and

the dominion over the assembly calling itself national. Each will keep

its own portion of the spoil of the Church to itself; and it will not

suffer either that spoil, or the more just fruits of their industry, or

the natural produce of their soil, to be sent to swell the insolence or

pamper the luxury of the mechanics of Paris. In this they will see none

of the equality, under the pretence of which they have been tempted to

throw off their allegiance to their sovereign, as well as the ancient

constitution of their country. There can be no capital city in such a

constitution as they have lately made. They have forgot, that, when they

framed democratic governments, they had virtually dismembered their

country. The person whom they persevere in calling king has not power

left to him by the hundredth part sufficient to hold together this

collection of republics. The republic of Paris will endeavor, indeed, to

complete the debauchery of the army, and illegally to perpetuate the

Assembly, without resort to its constituents, as the means of

continuing its despotism. It will make efforts, by becoming the heart

of a boundless paper circulation, to draw everything to itself: but in

vain. All this policy in the end will appear as feeble as it is now

violent.

* * * * *

If this be your actual situation, compared to the situation to which you

were called, as it were by the voice of God and man, I cannot find it in

my heart to congratulate you on the choice you have made, or the success

which has attended your endeavors. I can as little recommend to any

other nation a conduct grounded on such principles and productive of

such effects. That I must leave to those who can see further into your

affairs than I am able to do, and who best know how far your actions are

favorable to their designs. The gentlemen of the Revolution Society, who

were so early in their congratulations, appear to be strongly of opinion

that there is some scheme of politics relative to this country, in which

your proceedings may in some way be useful. For your Dr. Price, who

seems to have speculated himself into no small degree of fervor upon

this subject, addresses his auditors in the following very remarkable

words:--"I cannot conclude without recalling _particularly_ to your

recollection a consideration which I have _more than once alluded to_,

and which probably your thoughts have _been all along anticipating_; a

consideration with which _my mind is impressed more than can express_: I

mean the consideration of the _favorableness of the present times to all

exertions in the cause of liberty_."

It is plain that the mind of this _political_ preacher was at the time

big with some extraordinary design; and it is very probable that the

thoughts of his audience, who understood him better than I do, did all

along run before him in his reflection, and in the whole train of

consequences to which it led.

Before I read that sermon, I really thought I had lived in a free

country; and it was an error I cherished, because it gave me a greater

liking to the country I lived in. I was, indeed, aware that a jealous,

ever-waking vigilance, to guard the treasure of our liberty, not only

from invasion, but from decay and corruption, was our best wisdom and

our first duty. However, I considered that treasure rather as a

possession to be secured than as a prize to be contended for. I did not

discern how the present time came to be so very favorable to all

_exertions_ in the cause of freedom. The present time differs from any

other only by the circumstance of what is doing in France. If the

example of that nation is to have an influence on this, I can easily

conceive why some of their proceedings which have an unpleasant aspect,

and are not quite reconcilable to humanity, generosity, good faith, and

justice, are palliated with so much milky good-nature towards the

actors, and borne with so much heroic fortitude towards the sufferers.

It is certainly not prudent to discredit the authority of an example we

mean to follow. But allowing this, we are led to a very natural

question:--What is that cause of liberty, and what are those exertions

in its favor, to which the example of France is so singularly

auspicious? Is our monarchy to be annihilated, with all the laws, all

the tribunals, and all the ancient corporations of the kingdom? Is every

landmark of the country to be done away in favor of a geometrical and

arithmetical constitution? Is the House of Lords to be voted useless?

Is Episcopacy to be abolished? Are the Church lands to be sold to Jews

and jobbers, or given to bribe new-invented municipal republics into a

participation in sacrilege? Are all the taxes to be voted grievances,

and the revenue reduced to a patriotic contribution or patriotic

presents? Are silver shoe-buckles to be substituted in the place of the

land-tax and the malt-tax, for the support of the naval strength of this

kingdom? Are all orders, ranks, and distinctions to be confounded, that

out of universal anarchy, joined to national bankruptcy, three or four

thousand democracies should be formed into eighty-three, and that they

may all, by some sort of unknown attractive power, be organized into

one? For this great end is the army to be seduced from its discipline

and its fidelity, first by every kind of debauchery, and then by the

terrible precedent of a donative in the increase of pay? Are the curates

to be seduced from their bishops by holding out to them the delusive

hope of a dole out of the spoils of their own order? Are the citizens of

London to be drawn from their allegiance by feeding them at the expense

of their fellow-subjects? Is a compulsory paper currency to be

substituted in the place of the legal coin of this kingdom? Is what

remains of the plundered stock of public revenue to be employed in the

wild project of maintaining two armies to watch over and to fight with

each other? If these are the ends and means of the Revolution Society, I

admit they are well assorted; and France may furnish them for both with

precedents in point.

I see that your example is held out to shame us. I know that we are

supposed a dull, sluggish race, rendered passive by finding our

situation tolerable, and prevented by a mediocrity of freedom from ever

attaining to its full perfection. Your leaders in France began by

affecting to admire, almost to adore, the British Constitution; but as

they advanced, they came to look upon it with a sovereign contempt. The

friends of your National Assembly amongst us have full as mean an

opinion of what was formerly thought the glory of their country. The

Revolution Society has discovered that the English nation is not free.

They are convinced that the inequality in our representation is a

"defect in our Constitution _so gross and palpable_ as to make it

excellent chiefly in _form_ and _theory_";[87]--that a representation in

the legislature of a kingdom is not only the basis of all constitutional

liberty in it, but of "_all legitimate government_; that without it a

_government_ is nothing but an _usurpation_";--that, "when the

representation is _partial_, the kingdom possesses liberty only

_partially_; and if extremely partial, it gives only a _semblance_; and

if not only extremely partial, but corruptly chosen, it becomes a

_nuisance_." Dr. Price considers this inadequacy of representation as

our _fundamental grievance_; and though, as to the corruption of this

semblance of representation, he hopes it is not yet arrived to its full

perfection of depravity, he fears that "nothing will be done towards

gaining for us this _essential blessing_, until some _great abuse of

power_ again provokes our resentment, or some _great calamity_ again

alarms our fears, or perhaps till the acquisition of a _pure and equal

representation by other countries,_ whilst we are _mocked_ with the

_shadow_, kindles our shame." To this he subjoins a note in these

words:--"A representation chosen chiefly by the Treasury, and a _few_

thousands of the _dregs_ of the people, who are generally paid for their

votes."

You will smile here at the consistency of those democratists who, when

they are not on their guard, treat the humbler part of the community

with the greatest contempt, whilst, at the same time, they pretend to

make them the depositories of all power. It would require a long

discourse to point out to you the many fallacies that lurk in the

generality and equivocal nature of the terms "inadequate

representation." I shall only say here, in justice to that old-fashioned

Constitution under which we have long prospered, that our representation

has been found perfectly adequate to all the purposes for which a

representation of the people can be desired or devised. I defy the

enemies of our Constitution to show the contrary. To detail the

particulars in which it is found so well to promote its ends would

demand a treatise on our practical Constitution. I state here the

doctrine of the revolutionists, only that you and others may see what an

opinion these gentlemen entertain of the Constitution of their country,

and why they seem to think that some great abuse of power, or some great

calamity, as giving a chance for the blessing of a Constitution

according to their ideas, would be much palliated to their feelings; you

see _why they_ are so much enamored of your fair and equal

representation, which being once obtained, the same effects might

follow. You see they consider our House of Commons as only "a

semblance," "a form," "a theory," "a shadow," "a mockery," perhaps "a

nuisance."

These gentlemen value themselves on being systematic, and not without

reason. They must therefore look on this gross and palpable defect of

representation, this fundamental grievance, (so they call it,) as a

thing not only vicious in itself, but as rendering our whole government

absolutely _illegitimate_, and not at all better than a downright

_usurpation_. Another revolution, to get rid of this illegitimate and

usurped government, would of course be perfectly justifiable, if not

absolutely necessary. Indeed, their principle, if you observe it with

any attention, goes much further than to an alteration in the election

of the House of Commons; for, if popular representation, or choice, is

necessary to the _legitimacy_ of all government, the House of Lords is,

at one stroke, bastardized and corrupted in blood. That House is no

representative of the people at all, even in "semblance" or "in form."

The case of the crown is altogether as bad. In vain the crown may

endeavor to screen itself against these gentlemen by the authority of

the establishment made on the Revolution. The Revolution, which is

resorted to for a title, on their system, wants a title itself. The

Revolution is built, according to their theory, upon a basis not more

solid than our present formalities, as it was made by a House of Lords

not representing any one but themselves, and by a House of Commons

exactly such as the present, that is, as they term it, by a mere "shadow

and mockery" of representation.

The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. 03 (of 12) · 第 20 / 39 段