country from the earliest times to the present day; and this, God giving
me life and health, I shall begin to do in monthly numbers, beginning on
the first of September, and in which I shall endeavour to combine
brevity with clearness. We do not want to consume our time over a dozen
pages about Edward the Third dancing at a ball, picking up a lady's
garter, and making that garter the foundation of an order of knighthood,
bearing the motto of '_Honi soit qui mal y pense_? It is not stuff like
this; but we want to know what was the state of the people; what were a
labourer's wages; what were the prices of the food, and how the
labourers were dressed in the reign of that great king. What is a young
person to imbibe from a history of England, as it is called, like that
of Goldsmith? It is a little romance to amuse children; and the other
historians have given us larger romances to amuse lazy persons who are
grown up. To destroy the effects of these, and to make the people know
what their country has been, will be my object; and this, I trust, I
shall effect. We are, it is said, to have a History of England from SIR
JAMES MACKINTOSH; a History of Scotland from SIR WALTER SCOTT; and a
HISTORY OF IRELAND from Tommy Moore, the luscious poet. A Scotch lawyer,
who is a pensioner, and a member for Knaresborough, which is well known
to the Duke of Devonshire, who has the great tithes of twenty parishes
in Ireland, will, doubtless, write a most impartial _History of
England_, and particularly as far as relates to _boroughs_ and _tithes_.
A Scotch romance-writer, who, under the name of _Malagrowther_, wrote a
pamphlet to prove, that one-pound-notes were the cause of riches to
Scotland, will write, to be sure, a most instructive _History of
Scotland_. And, from the pen of a Irish poet, who is a sinecure
placeman, and a protégé of an English peer that has immense parcels of
Irish confiscated estates, what a beautiful history shall we not then
have of _unfortunate Ireland_! Oh, no! We are not going to be content
with stuff such as these men will bring out. Hume and Smollett and
Robertson have cheated us long enough. We are not in a humour to be
cheated any longer.
321. GEOGRAPHY is taught at schools, if we believe the school-cards. The
scholars can tell you all about the divisions of the earth, and this is
very well for persons who have leisure to indulge their curiosity; but
it does seem to me monstrous that a young person's time should be spent
in ascertaining the boundaries of Persia or China, knowing nothing all
the while about the boundaries, the rivers, the soil, or the products,
or of the any thing else of Yorkshire or Devonshire. The first thing in
geography is to know that of the country in which we live, especially
that in which we were born: I have now seen almost every hill and valley
in it with my own eyes; nearly every city and every town, and no small
part of the whole of the villages. I am therefore qualified to give an
account of the country; and that account, under the title of
Geographical Dictionary of England and Wales, I am now having printed as
a companion to my history.
322. When a young man well understands the geography of his own country;
when he has referred to maps on this smaller scale; when, in short, he
knows all about his own country, and is able to apply his knowledge to
useful purposes, he may look at other countries, and particularly at
those, the powers or measures of which are likely to affect his own
country. It is of great importance to us to be well acquainted with the
extent of France, the United States, Portugal, Spain, Mexico, Turkey,
and Russia; but what need we care about the tribes of Asia and Africa,
the condition of which can affect us no more than we would be affected
by any thing that is passing in the moon?
323. When people have nothing useful to do, they may indulge their
curiosity; but, merely to _read books_, is not to be industrious, is not
to study, and is not the way to become learned. Perhaps there are none
more lazy, or more truly ignorant, than your everlasting readers. A book
is an admirable excuse for sitting still; and, a man who has constantly
a newspaper, a magazine, a review, or some book or other in his hand,
gets, at last, his head stuffed with such a jumble, that he knows not
what to think about any thing. An empty coxcomb, that wastes his time in
dressing, strutting, or strolling about, and picking his teeth, is
certainly a most despicable creature, but scarcely less so than a mere
reader of books, who is, generally, conceited, thinks himself wiser than
other men, in proportion to the number of leaves that he has turned
over. In short, a young man should bestow his time upon no book, the
contents of which he cannot apply to some useful purpose.
324. Books of travels, of biography, natural history, and particularly
such as relate to agriculture and horticulture, are all proper, when
leisure is afforded for them; and the two last are useful to a very
great part of mankind; but, unless the subjects treated of are of some
interest to us in our affairs, no time should be wasted upon them, when
there are so many duties demanded at our hands by our families and our
country. A man may read books for ever, and be an ignorant creature at
last, and even the more ignorant for his reading.
325. And, with regard to young women, everlasting book-reading is
absolutely _a vice_. When they once get into the habit, they neglect all
other matters, and, in some cases, even their very dress. Attending to
the affairs of the house: to the washing, the baking, the brewing, the
preservation and cooking of victuals, the management of the poultry and
the garden; these are their proper occupations. It is said (with what
truth I know not) of the _present Queen_ (wife of William IV), that she
was an active, excellent manager of her house. Impossible to bestow on
her greater praise; and I trust that her example will have its due
effect on the young women of the present day, who stand, but too
generally, in need of that example.
326. The great fault of the present generation, is, that, in _all_
ranks, the _notions of self-importance are too high_. This has arisen
from causes not visible to many, out the consequences are felt by all,
and that, too, with great severity. There has been a general
_sublimating_ going on for many years. Not to put the word _Esquire_
before the name of almost any man who is not a mere labourer or artisan,
is almost _an affront_. Every merchant, every master-manufacturer, every
dealer, if at all rich, is an _Esquire_; squires' sons must be
_gentlemen_, and squires' wives and daughters _ladies_. If this were
_all_; if it were merely a ridiculous misapplication of words, the evil
would not be great; but, unhappily, words lead to acts and produce
things; and the '_young gentleman_' is not easily to be moulded into a
_tradesman_ or a _working farmer_. And yet the world is too small to
hold so many _gentlemen_ and _ladies_. How many thousands of young men
have, at this moment, cause to lament that they are not carpenters, or
masons, or tailors, or shoemakers; and how many thousands of those, that
they have been bred up to wish to disguise their honest and useful, and
therefore honourable, calling! ROUSSEAU observes, that men are happy,
first, in proportion to their virtue, and next, in proportion to their
_independence_; and that, of all mankind, the artisan, or craftsman, is
the most independent; because he carries about, _in his own hands_ and
person, the means of gaining his livelihood; and that the more common
the use of the articles on which he works, the more perfect his
independence. 'Where,' says he, 'there is one man that stands in need of
the talents of the dentist, there are a hundred thousand that want those
of the people who supply the matter for the teeth to work on; and for
one who wants a sonnet to regale his fancy, there are a million
clamouring for men to make or mend their shoes.' Aye, and this is the
reason, why shoemakers are proverbially the most independent part of the
people, and why they, in general, show more public spirit than any other
men. He who lives by a pursuit, be it what it may, which does not
require a considerable degree of _bodily labour_, must, from the nature
of things, be, more or less, a _dependent_; and this is, indeed, the
price which he pays for his exemption from that bodily labour. He _may_
arrive at riches, or fame, or both; and this chance he sets against the
certainty of independence in humbler life. There always have been, there
always will be, and there always ought to be, _some_ men to take this
chance: but to do this has become the _fashion_, and a fashion it is the
most fatal that ever seized upon a community.
327. With regard to young women, too, to sing, to play on instruments of
music, to draw, to speak French, and the like, are very agreeable
qualifications; but why should they _all_ be musicians, and painters,
and linguists? Why _all_ of them? Who, then, is there left to _take care
of the houses_ of farmers and traders? But there is something in these
'accomplishments' worse than this; namely, that they think themselves
_too high_ for farmers and traders: and this, in fact, they are; much
_too high_; and, therefore, the servant-girls step in and supply their
place. If they could see their own interest, surely they would drop this
lofty tone, and these lofty airs. It is, however, the fault of the
parents, and particularly of the father, whose duty it is to prevent
them from imbibing such notions, and to show them, that the greatest
honour they ought to aspire to is, thorough skill and care in the
economy of a house. We are all apt to set too high a value on what we
ourselves have done; and I may do this; but I do firmly believe, that to
cure any young woman of this fatal sublimation, she has only patiently
to read my COTTAGE ECONOMY, written with an anxious desire to promote
domestic skill and ability in that sex, on whom so much of the happiness
of man must always depend. A lady in Worcestershire told me, that until
she read COTTAGE ECONOMY she had never _baked in the house_, and had
seldom had _good beer_; that, ever since, she had looked after both
herself; that the pleasure she had derived from it, was equal to the
profit, and that the latter was very great. She said, that the article
'_on baking bread_,' was the part that roused her to the undertaking;
and, indeed, if the facts and arguments, _there_ made use of, failed to
stir her up to action, she must have been stone dead to the power of
words.
328. After the age that we have now been supposing, boys and girls
become _men_ and _women_; and, there now only remains for the _father_
to act towards them with _impartiality_. If they be numerous, or,
indeed, if they be only two in number, to expect _perfect harmony_ to
reign amongst, or between, them, is to be unreasonable; because
experience shows us, that, even amongst the most sober, most virtuous,
and most sensible, harmony so complete is very rare. By nature they are
rivals for the affection and applause of the parents; in personal and
mental endowments they become rivals; and, when _pecuniary interests_
come to be well understood and to have their weight, here is a
rivalship, to prevent which from ending in hostility, require more
affection and greater disinterestedness than fall to the lot of one out
of one hundred families. So many instances have I witnessed of good and
amiable families living in harmony, till the hour arrived for dividing
property amongst them, and then, all at once, becoming hostile to each
other, that I have often thought that property, coming in such a way,
was a curse, and that the parties would have been far better off, had
the parent had merely a blessing to bequeath them from his or her lips,
instead of a will for them to dispute and wrangle over.
329. With regard to this matter, all that the father can do, is to be
_impartial_; but, impartiality does not mean positive _equality_ in the
distribution, but equality _in proportion_ to the different deserts of
the parties, their different wants, their different pecuniary
circumstances, and different prospects in life; and these vary so much,
in different families, that it is impossible to lay down any general
rule upon the subject. But there is one fatal error, against which every
father ought to guard his heart; and the kinder that heart is, the more
necessary such guardianship. I mean the fatal error of heaping upon one
child, to the prejudice of the rest; or, upon a part of them. This
partiality sometimes arises from mere caprice; sometimes from the
circumstance of the favourite being more favoured by nature than the
rest; sometimes from the nearer resemblance to himself, that the father
sees in the favourite; and, sometimes, from the hope of preventing the
favoured party from doing that which would disgrace the parent. All
these motives are highly censurable, but the last is the most general,
and by far the most mischievous in its effects. How many fathers have
been ruined, how many mothers and families brought to beggary, how many
industrious and virtuous groups have been pulled down from competence to
penury, from the desire to prevent one from bringing shame on the
parent! So that, contrary to every principle of justice, the bad is
rewarded for the badness; and the good punished for the goodness.
Natural affection, remembrance of infantine endearments, reluctance to
abandon long-cherished hopes, compassion for the sufferings of your own
flesh and blood, the dread of fatal consequences from your adhering to
justice; all these beat at your heart, and call on you to give way: but,
you must resist them all; or, your ruin, and that of the rest of your
family, are decreed. Suffering is the natural and just punishment of
idleness, drunkenness, squandering, and an indulgence in the society of
prostitutes; and, never did the world behold an instance of an offender,
in this way, reclaimed but by the infliction of this punishment;
particularly, if the society of prostitutes made part of the offence;
for, here is something that takes the _heart from you_. Nobody ever yet
saw, and nobody ever will see, a young man, linked to a prostitute, and
retain, at the same time, any, even the smallest degree of affection,
for parents or brethren. You may supplicate, you may implore, you may
leave yourself pennyless, and your virtuous children without bread; the
invisible cormorant will still call for more; and, as we saw, only the
other day, a wretch was convicted of having, at the instigation of his
prostitute, _beaten his aged mother_, to get from her the small remains
of the means necessary to provide her with food. In HERON'S collection
of God's judgments on wicked acts, it is related of an unnatural son,
who fed his aged father upon orts and offal, lodged him in a filthy and
crazy garret, and clothed him in sackcloth, while he and his wife and
children lived in luxury; that, having bought sackcloth enough for two
dresses for his father, the children took away the part not made up, and
_hid it_, and that, upon asking them what they could _do this for_, they
told him that they meant to keep it _for him_, when he should become old
and walk with a stick! This, the author relates, pierced his heart; and,
indeed, if _this_ failed, he must have had the heart of a tiger; but,
even _this_ would not succeed with the associate of a prostitute. When
_this vice_, this love of the society of prostitutes; when this vice has
once got fast hold, vain are all your sacrifices, vain your prayers,
vain your hopes, vain your anxious desire to disguise the shame from the
world; and, if you have acted well your part, no part of that shame
falls on you, unless you _have administered to the cause of it_. Your
authority has ceased; the voice of the prostitute, or the charms of the
bottle, or the rattle of the dice, has been more powerful than your
advice and example: you must lament this: but, it is not to bow you
down; and, above all things, it is weak, and even criminally selfish, to
sacrifice the rest of your family, in order to keep from the world the
knowledge of that, which, if known, would, in your view of the matter,
bring shame on yourself.
330. Let me hope, however, that this is a calamity which will befall
very few good fathers; and that, of all such, the sober, industrious,
and frugal habits of their children, their dutiful demeanor, their truth
and their integrity, will come to smooth the path of their downward
days, and be the objects on which their eyes will close. Those children
must, in their turn, travel the same path; and they may be assured,
that, 'Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in
the land,' is a precept, a disregard of which never yet failed, either
first or last, to bring its punishment. And, what can be more just than
that signal punishment should follow such a crime; a crime directly
against the voice of nature itself? Youth has its passions, and due
allowance justice will make for these; but, are the delusions of the
boozer, the gamester, or the harlot, to be pleaded in excuse for a
disregard of the source of your existence? Are those to be pleaded in
apology for giving pain to the father who has toiled half a lifetime in
order to feed and clothe you, and to the mother whose breast has been to
you the fountain of life? Go, you, and shake the hand of the
boon-companion; take the greedy harlot to your arms; mock at the tears
of your tender and anxious parents; and, when your purse is empty and
your complexion faded, receive the poverty and the scorn due to your
base ingratitude!
LETTER VI
TO THE CITIZEN
331. Having now given my Advice to the YOUTH, the grown-up MAN, the
LOVER, the HUSBAND and the FATHER, I shall, in this concluding Number,
tender my Advice to the CITIZEN, in which capacity every man has rights
to enjoy and duties to perform, and these too of importance not inferior
to those which belong to him, or are imposed upon him, as son, parent,
husband or father. The word _citizen_ is not, in its application,
confined to the mere inhabitants of cities: it means, a _member of a
civil society, or community_; and, in order to have a clear
comprehension of man's rights and duties in this capacity, we must take
a look at the _origin of civil communities_.
332. Time was when the inhabitants of this island, for instance, laid
claim to all things in it, without the words _owner_ or _property_ being
known. God had given to _all_ the people all the land and all the trees,
and every thing else, just as he has given the burrows and the grass to
the rabbits, and the bushes and the berries to the birds; and each man
had the good things of this world in a greater or less degree in
proportion to his skill, his strength and his valour. This is what is
called living under the LAW OF NATURE; that is to say, the law of
self-preservation and self-enjoyment, without any restraint imposed by a
regard for the good of our neighbours.
333. In process of time, no matter from what cause, men made amongst
themselves a compact, or an agreement, to divide the land and its
products in such manner that each should have a share to his own
exclusive use, and that each man should be protected in the exclusive
enjoyment of his share by the _united power of the rest_; and, in order
to ensure the due and certain application of this united power, the
whole of the people agreed to be bound by regulations, called LAWS. Thus
arose civil society; thus arose _property_; thus arose the words _mine_
and _thine_. One man became possessed of more good things than another,
because he was more industrious, more skilful, more careful, or more
frugal: so that LABOUR, of one sort or another, was the BASIS of all
property.
334. In what manner civil societies proceeded in providing for the
making of laws and for the enforcing of them; the various ways in which
they took measures to protect the weak against the strong; how they have
gone to work to secure wealth against the attacks of poverty; these are
subjects that it would require volumes to detail; but these truths are
written on the heart of man: that all men are, by nature, _equal_; that
civil society can never have arisen from any motive other than that of
the _benefit of the whole_; that, whenever civil society makes the
greater part of the people _worse off_ than they were under the Law of
Nature, the civil compact is, in conscience, dissolved, and all the
rights of nature return; that, in civil society, the _rights and the
duties go hand in hand_, and that, when the former are taken away, the
latter cease to exist.
335. Now, then, in order to act well our part, as citizens, or members
of the community, we ought clearly to understand _what our rights are_;
for, on our enjoyment of these depend our duties, rights going before
duties, as value received goes before payment. I know well, that just
the contrary of this is taught in our political schools, where we are
told, that our _first duty_ is to _obey the laws_; and it is not many
years ago, that HORSLEY, Bishop of Rochester, told us, that the _people_
had _nothing_ to do with the laws but to _obey_ them. The truth is,
however, that the citizen's _first duty_ is to maintain his rights, as
it is the purchaser's first duty to receive the thing for which he has
contracted.
336. Our rights in society are numerous; the right of enjoying life and
property; the right of exerting our physical and mental powers in an
innocent manner; but, the great right of all, and without which there
is, in fact, _no right_, is, the right of _taking a part in the making
of the laws by which we are governed_. This right is founded in that law
of Nature spoken of above; it springs out of the very principle of civil
society; for what _compact_, what _agreement_, what _common assent_, can
possibly be imagined by which men would give up all the rights of
nature, all the free enjoyment of their bodies and their minds, in order
to subject themselves to rules and laws, in the making of which they
should have nothing to say, and which should be enforced upon them
without their assent? The great right, therefore, of _every man_, the
right of rights, is the right of having a share in the making of the
laws, to which the good of the whole makes it his duty to submit.
337. With regard to the means of enabling every man to enjoy this share,
they have been different, in different countries, and, in the same
countries, at different times. Generally it has been, and in great
communities it must be, by the choosing of a few to speak and act _in
behalf of the many_: and, as there will hardly ever be _perfect
unanimity_ amongst men assembled for any purpose whatever, where fact
and argument are to decide the question, the decision is left to the
_majority_, the compact being that the decision of the majority shall be
that of the whole. _Minors_ are excluded from this right, because the
law considers them as infants, because it makes the parent answerable
for civil damages committed by them, and because of their legal
incapacity to make any compact. _Women_ are excluded because husbands
are answerable in law for their wives, as to their civil damages, and
because the very nature of their sex makes the exercise of this right
incompatible with the harmony and happiness of society. Men stained with
_indelible crimes_ are excluded, because they have forfeited their right
by violating the laws, to which their assent has been given. _Insane
persons_ are excluded, because they are dead in the eye of the law,
because the law demands no duty at their hands, because they cannot
violate the law, because the law cannot affect them; and, therefore,
they ought to have no hand in making it.