Something they must destroy, or they seem to themselves to exist for no

purpose. One set is for destroying the civil power through the

ecclesiastical; another for demolishing the ecclesiastic through the

civil. They are aware that the worst consequences might happen to the

public in accomplishing this double ruin of Church and State; but they

are so heated with their theories, that they give more than hints that

this ruin, with all the mischiefs that must lead to it and attend it,

and which to themselves appear quite certain, would not be unacceptable

to them, or very remote from their wishes. A man amongst them of great

authority, and certainly of great talents, speaking of a supposed

alliance between Church and State, says, "Perhaps _we must wait for the

fall of the civil powers_, before this most unnatural alliance be

broken. Calamitous, no doubt, will that time be. But what convulsion in

the political world ought to be a subject of lamentation, if it be

attended with so desirable an effect?" You see with what a steady eye

these gentlemen are prepared to view the greatest calamities which can

befall their country!

It is no wonder, therefore, that, with these ideas of everything in

their Constitution and government at home, either in Church or State, as

illegitimate and usurped, or at best as a vain mockery, they look abroad

with an eager and passionate enthusiasm. Whilst they are possessed by

these notions, it is vain to talk to them of the practice of their

ancestors, the fundamental laws of their country, the fixed form of a

Constitution whose merits are confirmed by the solid test of long

experience and an increasing public strength and national prosperity.

They despise experience as the wisdom of unlettered men; and as for the

rest, they have wrought under ground a mine that will blow up, at one

grand explosion, all examples of antiquity, all precedents, charters,

and acts of Parliament. They have "the rights of men." Against these

there can be no prescription; against these no argument is binding:

these admit no temperament and no compromise: anything withheld from

their full demand is so much of fraud and injustice. Against these their

rights of men let no government look for security in the length of its

continuance, or in the justice and lenity of its administration. The

objections of these speculatists, if its forms do not quadrate with

their theories, are as valid against such an old and beneficent

government as against the most violent tyranny or the greenest

usurpation. They are always at issue with governments, not on a question

of abuse, but a question of competency and a question of title. I have

nothing to say to the clumsy subtilty of their political metaphysics.

Let them be their amusement in the schools.

_Illa_ se jactet in aula

Æolus, et clauso ventorum carcere regnet.

But let them not break prison to burst like a Levanter, to sweep the

earth with their hurricane, and to break up the fountains of the great

deep to overwhelm us!

Far am I from denying in theory, full as far is my heart from

withholding in practice, (if I were of power to give or to withhold,)

the _real_ rights of men. In denying their false claims of right, I do

not mean to injure those which are real, and are such as their pretended

rights would totally destroy. If civil society be made for the advantage

of man, all the advantages for which it is made become his right. It is

an institution of beneficence; and law itself is only beneficence acting

by a rule. Men have a right to live by that rule; they have a right to

justice, as between their fellows, whether their fellows are in politic

function or in ordinary occupation. They have a right to the fruits of

their industry, and to the means of making their industry fruitful.

They have a right to the acquisitions of their parents, to the

nourishment and improvement of their offspring, to instruction in life

and to consolation in death. Whatever each man can separately do,

without trespassing upon others, he has a right to do for himself; and

he has a right to a fair portion of all which society, with all its

combinations of skill and force, can do in his favor. In this

partnership all men have equal rights; but not to equal things. He that

has but five shillings in the partnership has as good a right to it as

he that has five hundred pounds has to his larger proportion; but he has

not a right to an equal dividend in the product of the joint stock. And

as to the share of power, authority, and direction which each individual

ought to have in the management of the state, that I must deny to be

amongst the direct original rights of man in civil society; for I have

in my contemplation the civil social man, and no other. It is a thing to

be settled by convention.

If civil society be the offspring of convention, that convention must be

its law. That convention must limit and modify all the descriptions of

constitution which are formed under it. Every sort of legislative,

judicial, or executory power are its creatures. They can have no being

in any other state of things; and how can any man claim, under the

conventions of civil society, rights which do not so much as suppose its

existence,--rights which are absolutely repugnant to it? One of the

first motives to civil society, and which becomes one of its fundamental

rules, is, _that no man should be judge in his own cause_. By this each

person has at once divested himself of the first fundamental right of

uncovenanted man, that is, to judge for himself, and to assert his own

cause. He abdicates all right to be his own governor. He inclusively, in

a great measure, abandons the right of self-defence, the first law of

Nature. Men cannot enjoy the rights of an uncivil and of a civil state

together. That he may obtain justice, he gives up his right of

determining what it is in points the most essential to him. That he may

secure some liberty, he makes a surrender in trust of the whole of it.

Government is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do

exist in total independence of it,--and exist in much greater clearness,

and in a much greater degree of abstract perfection: but their abstract

perfection is their practical defect. By having a right to everything

they want everything. Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to

provide for human _wants_. Men have a right that these wants should be

provided for by this wisdom. Among these wants is to be reckoned the

want, out of civil society, of a sufficient restraint upon their

passions. Society requires not only that the passions of individuals

should be subjected, but that even in the mass and body, as well as in

the individuals, the inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted,

their will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection. This

can only be done _by a power out of themselves_, and not, in the

exercise of its function, subject to that will and to those passions

which it is its office to bridle and subdue. In this sense the

restraints on men, as well as their liberties, are to be reckoned among

their rights. But as the liberties and the restrictions vary with times

and circumstances, and admit of infinite modifications, they cannot be

settled upon any abstract rule; and nothing is so foolish as to discuss

them upon that principle.

The moment you abate anything from the full rights of men each to govern

himself, and suffer any artificial, positive limitation upon those

rights, from that moment the whole organization of government becomes a

consideration of convenience. This it is which makes the constitution of

a state, and the due distribution of its powers, a matter of the most

delicate and complicated skill. It requires a deep knowledge of human

nature and human necessities, and of the things which facilitate or

obstruct the various ends which are to be pursued by the mechanism of

civil institutions. The state is to have recruits to its strength and

remedies to its distempers. What is the use of discussing a man's

abstract right to food or medicine? The question is upon the method of

procuring and administering them. In that deliberation I shall always

advise to call in the aid of the farmer and the physician, rather than

the professor of metaphysics.

The science of constructing a commonwealth, or renovating it, or

reforming it, is, like every other experimental science, not to be

taught _a priori_. Nor is it a short experience that can instruct us in

that practical science; because the real effects of moral causes are not

always immediate, but that which in the first instance is prejudicial

may be excellent in its remoter operation, and its excellence may arise

even from the ill effects it produces in the beginning. The reverse also

happens; and very plausible schemes, with very pleasing commencements,

have often shameful and lamentable conclusions. In states there are

often some obscure and almost latent causes, things which appear at

first view of little moment, on which a very great part of its

prosperity or adversity may most essentially depend. The science of

government being, therefore, so practical in itself, and intended for

such practical purposes, a matter which requires experience, and even

more experience than any person can gain in his whole life, however

sagacious and observing he may be, it is with infinite caution that any

man ought to venture upon pulling down an edifice which has answered in

any tolerable degree for ages the common purposes of society, or on

building it up again without having models and patterns of approved

utility before his eyes.

These metaphysic rights entering into common life, like rays of light

which pierce into a dense medium, are, by the laws of Nature, refracted

from their straight line. Indeed, in the gross and complicated mass of

human passions and concerns, the primitive rights of men undergo such a

variety of refractions and reflections that it becomes absurd to talk of

them as if they continued in the simplicity of their original direction.

The nature of man is intricate; the objects of society are of the

greatest possible complexity: and therefore no simple disposition or

direction of power can be suitable either to man's nature or to the

quality of his affairs. When I hear the simplicity of contrivance aimed

at and boasted of in any new political constitutions, I am at no loss to

decide that the artificers are grossly ignorant of their trade or

totally negligent of their duty. The simple governments are

fundamentally defective, to say no worse of them. If you were to

contemplate society in but one point of view, all these simple modes of

polity are infinitely captivating. In effect each would answer its

single end much more perfectly than the more complex is able to attain

all its complex purposes. But it is better that the whole, should be

imperfectly and anomalously answered than that while some parts are

provided for with great exactness, others might be totally neglected, or

perhaps materially injured, by the over-care of a favorite member.

The pretended rights of these theorists are all extremes; and in

proportion as they are metaphysically true, they are morally and

politically false. The rights of men are in a sort of _middle_,

incapable of definition, but not impossible to be discerned. The rights

of men in governments are their advantages; and these are often in

balances between differences of good,--in compromises sometimes between

good and evil, and sometimes between evil and evil. Political reason is

a computing principle: adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing,

morally, and not metaphysically or mathematically, true moral

denominations.

By these theorists the right of the people is almost always

sophistically confounded with their power. The body of the community,

whenever it can come to act, can meet with no effectual resistance; but

till power and right are the same, the whole body of them has no right

inconsistent with virtue, and the first of all virtues, prudence. Men

have no right to what is not reasonable, and to what is not for their

benefit; for though a pleasant writer said, "_Liceat perire poetis_,"

when one of them, in cold blood, is said to have leaped into the flames

of a volcanic revolution, "_ardentem frigidus Ætnam insiluit_," I

consider such a frolic rather as an unjustifiable poetic license than

as one of the franchises of Parnassus; and whether he were poet, or

divine, or politician, that chose to exercise this kind of right, I

think that more wise, because more charitable, thoughts would urge me

rather to save the man than to preserve his brazen slippers as the

monuments of his folly.

* * * * *

The kind of anniversary sermons to which a great part of what I write

refers, if men are not shamed out of their present course, in

commemorating the fact, will cheat many out of the principles and

deprive them of the benefits of the Revolution they commemorate. I

confess to you, Sir, I never liked this continual talk of resistance and

revolution, or the practice of making the extreme medicine of the

Constitution its daily bread. It renders the habit of society

dangerously valetudinary; it is taking periodical doses of mercury

sublimate, and swallowing down repeated provocatives of cantharides to

our love of liberty.

This distemper of remedy, grown habitual, relaxes and wears out, by a

vulgar and prostituted use, the spring of that spirit which is to be

exerted on great occasions. It was in the most patient period of Roman

servitude that themes of tyrannicide made the ordinary exercise of boys

at school,--_cum perimit sævos classis numerosa tyrannos_. In the

ordinary state of things, it produces in a country like ours the worst

effects, even on the cause of that liberty which it abuses with the

dissoluteness of an extravagant speculation. Almost all the high-bred

republicans of my time have, after a short space, become the most

decided, thorough-paced courtiers; they soon left the business of a

tedious, moderate, but practical resistance, to those of us whom, in

the pride and intoxication of their theories, they have slighted as not

much better than Tories. Hypocrisy, of course, delights in the most

sublime speculations; for, never intending to go beyond speculation, it

costs nothing to have it magnificent. But even in cases where rather

levity than fraud was to be suspected in these ranting speculations, the

issue has been much the same. These professors, finding their extreme

principles not applicable to cases which call only for a qualified, or,

as I may say, civil and legal resistance, in such cases employ no

resistance at all. It is with them a war or a revolution, or it is

nothing. Finding their schemes of politics not adapted to the state of

the world in which they live, they often come to think lightly of all

public principle, and are ready, on their part, to abandon for a very

trivial interest what they find of very trivial value. Some, indeed, are

of more steady and persevering natures; but these are eager politicians

out of Parliament, who have little to tempt them to abandon their

favorite projects. They have some change in the Church or State, or

both, constantly in their view. When that is the case, they are always

bad citizens, and perfectly unsure connections. For, considering their

speculative designs as of infinite value, and the actual arrangement of

the state as of no estimation, they are, at best, indifferent about it.

They see no merit in the good, and no fault in the vicious management of

public affairs; they rather rejoice in the latter, as more propitious to

revolution. They see no merit or demerit in any man, or any action, or

any political principle, any further than as they may forward or retard

their design of change; they therefore take up, one day, the most

violent and stretched prerogative, and another time the wildest

democratic ideas of freedom, and pass from the one to the other without

any sort of regard to cause, to person, or to party.

In France you are now in the crisis of a revolution, and in the transit

from one form of government to another: you cannot see that character of

men exactly in the same situation in which we see it in this country.

With us it is militant, with you it is triumphant; and you know how it

can act, when its power is commensurate to its will. I would not be

supposed to confine those observations to any description of men, or to

comprehend all men of any description within them,--no, far from it! I

am as incapable of that injustice as I am of keeping terms with those

who profess principles of extremes, and who, under the name of religion,

teach little else than wild and dangerous politics. The worst of these

politics of revolution is this: they temper and harden the breast, in

order to prepare it for the desperate strokes which are sometimes used

in extreme occasions. But as these occasions may never arrive, the mind

receives a gratuitous taint; and the moral sentiments suffer not a

little, when no political purpose is served by the depravation. This

sort of people are so taken up with their theories about the rights of

man, that they have totally forgot his nature. Without opening one new

avenue to the understanding, they have succeeded in stopping up those

that lead to the heart. They have perverted in themselves, and in those

that attend to them, all the well-placed sympathies of the human breast.

This famous sermon of the Old Jewry breathes nothing but this spirit

through all the political part. Plots, massacres, assassinations, seem

to some people a trivial price for obtaining a revolution. A cheap,

bloodless reformation, a guiltless liberty, appear flat and vapid to

their taste. There must be a great change of scene; there must be a

magnificent stage effect; there must be a grand spectacle to rouse the

imagination, grown torpid with the lazy enjoyment of sixty years'

security, and the still unanimating repose of public prosperity. The

preacher found them all in the French Revolution. This inspires a

juvenile warmth through his whole frame. His enthusiasm kindles as he

advances; and when he arrives at his peroration, it is in a full blaze.

Then viewing, from the Pisgah of his pulpit, the free, moral, happy,

flourishing, and glorious state of France, as in a bird-eye landscape of

a promised land, he breaks out into the following rapture:--

"What an eventful period is this! I am _thankful_ that I have lived to

it; I could almost say, _Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in

peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation_.--I have lived to see a

_diffusion_ of knowledge which has undermined superstition and error.--I

have lived to see _the rights of men_ better understood than ever, and

nations panting for liberty which seemed to have lost the idea of it.--I

have lived to see _thirty millions of people_, indignant and resolute,

spurning at slavery, and demanding liberty with an irresistible voice;

_their king led in triumph, and an arbitrary monarch surrendering

himself to his subjects_."[88]

Before I proceed further, I have to remark that Dr. Price seems rather

to overvalue the great acquisitions of light which he has obtained and

diffused in this age. The last century appears to me to have been quite

as much enlightened. It had, though in a different place, a triumph as

memorable as that of Dr. Price; and some of the great preachers of that

period partook of it as eagerly as he has done in the triumph of France.

On the trial of the Reverend Hugh Peters for high treason, it was

deposed, that, when King Charles was brought to London for his trial,

the Apostle of Liberty in that day conducted the _triumph_. "I saw,"

says the witness, "his Majesty in the coach with six horses, and Peters

riding before the king _triumphing_." Dr. Price, when he talks as if he

had made a discovery, only follows a precedent; for, after the

commencement of the king's trial, this precursor, the same Dr. Peters,

concluding a long prayer at the royal chapel at Whitehall, (he had very

triumphantly chosen his place,) said, "I have prayed and preached these

twenty years; and now I may say with old Simeon, _Lord, now lettest thou

thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy

salvation_."[89] Peters had not the fruits of his prayer; for he neither

departed so soon as he wished, nor in peace. He became (what I heartily

hope none of his followers may be in this country) himself a sacrifice

to the triumph which he led as pontiff. They dealt at the Restoration,

perhaps, too hardly with this poor good man. But we owe it to his memory

and his sufferings, that he had as much illumination and as much zeal,

and had as effectually undermined all _the superstition and error_ which

might impede the great business he was engaged in, as any who follow and

repeat after him in this age, which would assume to itself an exclusive

title to the knowledge of the rights of men, and all the glorious

consequences of that knowledge.

After this sally of the preacher of the Old Jewry, which differs only in

place and time, but agrees perfectly with the spirit and letter of the

rapture of 1648, the Revolution Society, the fabricators of governments,

the heroic band of _cashierers_ of _monarchs_, electors of sovereigns,

and leaders of kings in triumph, strutting with a proud consciousness of

the diffusion of knowledge, of which every member had obtained so large

a share in the donative, were in haste to make a generous diffusion of

the knowledge they had thus gratuitously received. To make this

bountiful communication, they adjourned from the church in the Old Jewry

to the London Tavern, where the same Dr. Price, in whom the fumes of his

oracular tripod were not entirely evaporated, moved and carried the

resolution, or address of congratulation, transmitted by Lord Stanhope

to the National Assembly of France.

I find a preacher of the Gospel profaning the beautiful and prophetic

ejaculation, commonly called "_Nunc dimittis_," made on the first

presentation of our Saviour in the temple, and applying it, with an

inhuman and unnatural rapture, to the most horrid, atrocious, and

afflicting spectacle that perhaps ever was exhibited to the pity and

indignation of mankind. This "_leading in triumph_," a thing in its best

form unmanly and irreligious, which fills our preacher with such

unhallowed transports, must shock, I believe, the moral taste of every

well-born mind. Several English were the stupefied and indignant

spectators of that triumph. It was (unless we have been strangely

deceived) a spectacle more resembling a procession of American savages

entering into Onondaga after some of their murders called victories, and

leading into hovels hung round with scalps their captives overpowered

with the scoffs and buffets of women as ferocious as themselves, much

more than it resembled the triumphal pomp of a civilized martial

nation;--if a civilized nation, or any men who had a sense of

generosity, were capable of a personal triumph over the fallen and

afflicted.

This, my dear Sir, was not the triumph of France. I must believe, that,

as a nation, it overwhelmed you with shame and horror. I must believe

that the National Assembly find themselves in a state of the greatest

humiliation in not being able to punish the authors of this triumph or

the actors in it, and that they are in a situation in which any inquiry

they may make upon the subject must be destitute even of the appearance

of liberty or impartiality. The apology of that assembly is found in

their situation; but when we approve what they _must_ bear, it is in us

the degenerate choice of a vitiated mind.

The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. 03 (of 12) · 第 21 / 39 段