Works_, vol. iv. pp. 150, 259, with _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxii. p.
271, vol. xxiv. p. 1222, vol. xxvi. p. 1057, vol. xxviii. p. 143;
and, in regard to the execution of them, see _Life of Romilly, by
Himself_, vol. i. p. 65; and _Alison's Hist. of Europe_, vol. ix.
p. 620.
[847] In one short speech (_Parl. Hist._ vol. xx. pp. 150, 151), he has
almost exhausted the arguments against enlistment for life.
[848] In 1806, that is nine years after the death of Burke, parliament
first authorized enlistment for a term of years. See an account
of the debates in _Alison's Hist. of Europe_, vol. vii. pp.
380-391. Compare _Nichols's Illustrations of the Eighteenth
Century_, vol. v. p. 475; and _Holland's Mem. of the Whig Party_,
vol. ii. p. 116.
[849] _Prior's Life of Burke_, p. 316; _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxvii. p. 502,
vol. xxviii. pp. 69, 96; and _Life of Wilberforce_, vol. i. pp.
152, 171, contain evidence of his animosity against the
slave-trade, and a more than sufficient answer to the
ill-natured, and, what is worse, the ignorant, remark about
Burke, in the _Duke of Buckingham's Mem. of George III._ vol. i.
p. 350.
[850] On the respect which George III. felt for the slave-trade, see
note 259 to this chapter. I might also have quoted the testimony
of Lord Brougham: 'The court was decidedly against abolition.
George III. always regarded the question with abhorrence, as
savouring of innovation.' _Brougham's Statesmen_, vol. ii. p.
104. Compare _Combe's North America_, vol. i. p. 332.
[851] _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. pp. 490-496; _Parl. Hist._ vol. xvii.
pp. 44-55, a very able speech, delivered in 1771. Compare a
letter to Dowdeswell, in _Burke's Correspond._ vol. i. pp. 251,
252.
[852] The arguments of Burke anticipated, by more than twenty years,
Fox's celebrated Libel Bill, which was not passed till 1792;
although, in 1752, juries had begun, in spite of the judges, to
return general verdicts on the merits. See _Campbell's
Chancellors_, vol. v. pp. 238, 243, 341-345, vol. vi. p. 210; and
_Meyer_, _Institutions Judiciaires_, vol. ii. pp. 204, 205,
Paris, 1823.
[853] Mr. Farr, in his valuable essay on the statistics of the civil
service (in _Journal of Statist. Soc._ vol. xii. pp. 103-125),
calls Burke 'one of the first and ablest financial reformers in
parliament,' p. 104. The truth, however, is, that he was not only
one of the first, but the first. He was the first man who laid
before parliament a general and systematic scheme for diminishing
the expenses of government; and his preliminary speech on that
occasion is one of the finest of all his compositions.
[854] _Prior's Life of Burke_, pp. 206, 234. See also, on the
retrenchments he effected, _Sinclair's Hist. of the Revenue_,
vol. ii. pp. 84, 85; _Burke's Correspond._ vol. iii. p. 14; and
_Bisset's Life of Burke_, vol. ii. pp. 57-60.
These things alone are sufficient to explain the animosity of a prince
whose boast it was, that he would bequeath the government to his
successor in the same state as that in which he had received it. There
was, however, another circumstance by which the royal feelings were
still further wounded. The determination of the king to oppress the
Americans was so notorious that, when the war actually broke out, it was
called the 'king's war,' and those who opposed it were regarded as the
personal enemies of their sovereign.[855] In this, however, as in all
other questions, the conduct of Burke was governed, not by traditions
and principles, such as George III. cherished, but by large views of
general expediency. Burke, in forming his opinions respecting this
disgraceful contest, refused to be guided by arguments respecting the
right of either party.[856] He would not enter into any discussion as to
whether a mother country has the right to tax her colonies, or whether
the colonies have a right to tax themselves. Such points he left to be
mooted by those politicians who, pretending to be guided by principles,
are, in reality, subjugated by prejudice.[857] For his own part he was
content to compare the cost with the gain. It was enough for Burke that,
considering the power of our American colonies, considering their
distance from us, and considering the probability of their being aided
by France, it was not advisable to exercise the power; and it was,
therefore, idle to talk of the right. Hence he opposed the taxation of
America, not because it was unprecedented, but because it was
inexpedient. As a natural consequence he likewise opposed the
Boston-Port Bill, and that shameful bill, to forbid all intercourse with
America, which was not inaptly called the starvation plan; violent
measures, by which the king hoped to curb the colonies, and break the
spirit of those noble men, whom he hated even more than he feared.[858]
[855] In 1788, Lord Rockingham said, in the House of Lords, 'Instead of
calling the war, the war of parliament, or of the people, it was
called the king's war, his majesty's favourite war.' _Parl.
Hist._ vol. xix. p. 857. Compare _Cooke's Hist. of Party_, vol.
iii. p. 235, with the pungent remarks in _Walpole's George III._
vol. iv. p. 114. Nicholls (_Recollections_, vol. i. p. 35) says:
'The war was considered as the war of the king personally. Those
who supported it were called the king's friends; while those who
wished the country to pause, and reconsider the propriety of
persevering in the contest, were branded as disloyal.'
[856] 'I am not here going into the distinction of rights, nor
attempting to mark their boundaries. I do not enter into these
metaphysical distinctions; I hate the very sound of them.' Speech
on American taxation in 1774, in _Burke's Works_, vol. i. p. 173.
In 1775 (vol. i. p. 192): 'But my consideration is narrow,
confined, and wholly limited to the policy of the question.' At
p. 183: we should act in regard to America, not 'according to
abstract ideas of right, by no means according to mere general
theories of government; the resort to which appears to me, in our
present situation, no better than arrant trifling.' In one of his
earliest political pamphlets, written in 1769, he says, that the
arguments of the opponents of America 'are conclusive; conclusive
as to right; but the very reverse as to policy and practice,'
vol. i. p. 112. Compare a letter, written in 1775, in _Burke's
Correspond._ vol. ii. p. 12.
[857] In 1766, George III. writes to Lord Rockingham (_Albemarle's
Rockingham_, vol. i. pp. 271, 272): 'Talbot is as right as I can
desire, in the Stamp Act; strong for our declaring our right, but
willing to repeal!' In other words, willing to offend the
Americans, by a speculative assertion of an abstract right, but
careful to forego the advantage which that right might produce.
[858] The intense hatred with which George III. regarded the Americans,
was so natural to such a mind as his, that one can hardly blame
his constant exhibition of it during the time that the struggle
was actually impending. But what is truly disgraceful is, that,
after the war was over, he displayed this rancour on an occasion
when, of all others, he was bound to suppress it. In 1786,
Jefferson and Adams were in England officially, and, as a matter
of courtesy to the king, made their appearance at court. So
regardless, however, was George III. of the common decencies of
his station, that he treated these eminent men with marked
incivility, although they were then paying their respects to him
in his own palace. See _Tucker's Life of Jefferson_, vol. i. p.
220; and _Mem. and Corresp. of Jefferson_, vol. i. p. 54.
It is certainly no faint characteristic of those times, that a man like
Burke, who dedicated to politics abilities equal to far nobler things,
should, during thirty years, have received from his prince neither
favour nor reward. But George III. was a king whose delight it was to
raise the humble and exalt the meek. His reign, indeed, was the golden
age of successful mediocrity; an age in which little men were favoured,
and great men depressed; when Addington was cherished as a statesman,
and Beattie pensioned as a philosopher; and when, in all the walks of
public life, the first conditions of promotion were, to fawn upon
ancient prejudices, and support established abuses.
This neglect of the most eminent of English politicians is highly
instructive; but the circumstances which followed, though extremely
painful, have a still deeper interest, and are well worth the attention
of those whose habits of mind lead them to study the intellectual
peculiarities of great men.
For, at this distance of time, when his nearest relations are no more,
it would be affectation to deny that Burke, during the last few years of
his life, fell into a state of complete hallucination. When the French
Revolution broke out, his mind, already fainting under the weight of
incessant labour, could not support the contemplation of an event so
unprecedented, so appalling, and threatening results of such frightful
magnitude. And, when the crimes of that great revolution, instead of
diminishing, continued to increase, then it was that the feelings of
Burke finally mastered his reason; the balance tottered; the proportions
of that gigantic intellect were disturbed. From this moment, his
sympathy with present suffering was so intense, that he lost all memory
of the tyranny by which the sufferings were provoked. His mind, once so
steady, so little swayed by prejudice and passion, reeled under the
pressure of events which turned the brains of thousands.[859] And
whoever will compare the spirit of his latest works with the dates of
their publication, will see how this melancholy change was aggravated by
that bitter bereavement, from which he never rallied, and which alone
was sufficient to prostrate the understanding of one in whom the
severity of the reason was so tempered, so nicely poised, by the warmth
of the affections. Never, indeed, can there be forgotten those touching,
those exquisite allusions to the death of that only son, who was the joy
of his soul, and the pride of his heart, and to whom he fondly hoped to
bequeath the inheritance of his imperishable name. Never can we forget
that image of desolation under which the noble old man figured his
immeasurable grief 'I live in an inverted order. They who ought to have
succeeded me, have gone before me. They who should have been to me as
posterity, are in the place of ancestors.... The storm has gone over
me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has
scattered about me. I am stripped of all my honours; I am torn up by the
roots, and lie prostrate on the earth.'[860]
[859] All great revolutions have a direct tendency to increase insanity,
as long as they last, and probably for some time afterwards: but
in this, as in other respects, the French revolution stands alone
in the number of its victims. On the horrible, but curious
subject of madness caused by the excitement of the events which
occurred in France late in the eighteenth century, compare
_Prichard on Insanity in relation to Jurisprudence_, 1842, p. 90;
his _Treatise on Insanity_, 1835, pp. 161, 183, 230, 339;
_Esquirol_, _Maladies Mentales_, vol. i. pp. 43, 53, 54, 66, 211,
447, vol. ii. pp. 193, 726; _Feuchtersleben's Medical
Psychology_, p. 254; _Georget, De la Folie_, p. 156; _Pinel,
Traité sur l'Aliénation Mentale_, pp. 30, 108, 109, 177, 178,
185, 207, 215, 257, 349, 392, 457, 481; _Alison's Hist. of
Europe_, vol. iii. p. 112.
[860] _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 268.
It would, perhaps, be displaying a morbid curiosity, to attempt to raise
the veil, and trace the decay of so mighty a mind.[861] Indeed, in all
such cases, most of the evidence perishes; for those who have the best
opportunities of witnessing the infirmities of a great man, are not
those who most love to relate them. But it is certain, that the change
was first clearly seen immediately after the breaking out of the French
Revolution; that it was aggravated by the death of his son; and that it
became progressively worse till death closed the scene.[862] In his
_Reflections on the French Revolution_; in his _Remarks on the Policy of
the Allies_: in his _Letter to Elliot_; in his _Letter to a Noble Lord_;
and in his _Letters on a Regicide Peace_, we may note the consecutive
steps of an increasing, and at length an uncontrollable, violence. To
the single principle of hatred of the French Revolution, he sacrificed
his oldest associations and his dearest friends. Fox, as is well known,
always looked up to Burke as to a master, from whose lips he had
gathered the lessons of political wisdom.[863] Burke, on his side, fully
recognized the vast abilities of his friend, and loved him for that
affectionate disposition, and for those winning manners, which, it has
often been said, none who saw them could ever resist. But now, without
the slightest pretence of a personal quarrel, this long intimacy[864]
was rudely severed. Because Fox would not abandon that love of popular
liberty which they had long cherished in common, Burke, publicly, and in
his place in parliament, declared that their friendship was at an end;
for that he would never more hold communion with a man who lent his
support to the French people.[865] At the same time, and indeed the
very evening on which this occurred, Burke, who had hitherto been
remarkable for the courtesy of his manners,[866] deliberately insulted
another of his friends, who was taking him home in his carriage; and, in
a state of frantic excitement, insisted on being immediately set down,
in the middle of the night, in a pouring rain, because he could not, he
said, remain seated by 'a friend to the revolutionary doctrines of the
French.'[867]
[861] The earliest unmistakable instances of those violent outbreaks
which showed the presence of disease, were in the debates on the
regency bill, in February 1789, when Sir Richard Hill, with
brutal candour, hinted at Burke's madness, even in his presence.
_Parl. Hist._ vol. xxvii. p. 1249. Compare a letter from Sir
William Young, in _Buckingham's Mem. of George III._ 1853, vol.
ii. p. 73; 'Burke finished his wild speech in a manner next to
madness.' This was in December 1788; and, from that time until
his death, it became every year more evident that his intellect
was disordered. See a melancholy description of him in a letter,
written by Dr. Currie in 1792 (_Life of Currie_, vol. ii. p.
150); and, above all, see his own incoherent letter, in 1796, in
his _Correspond. with Laurence_, p. 67.
[862] His son died in August 1794 (_Burke's Correspond._ vol. iv. p.
224); and his most violent works were written between that period
and his own death, in July 1797.
[863] 'This disciple, as he was proud to acknowledge himself.'
_Brougham's Statesmen_, vol. i. p. 218. In 1791, Fox said, that
Burke 'had taught him everything he knew in politics.' _Parl.
Hist._ vol. xxix. p. 379. See also _Adolphus's Hist. of George
III._ vol. iv. pp. 472, 610; and a letter from Fox to Parr, in
_Parr's Works_, vol. vii. p. 287.
[864] It had begun in 1766, when Fox was only seventeen. _Russell's Mem.
of Fox_, vol. i. p. 26.
[865] On this painful rupture, compare with the _Parliamentary History,
Holland's Mem. of the Whig Party_, vol. i. pp. 10, 11; _Prior's
Life of Burke_, pp. 375-379; _Tomline's Life of Pitt_, vol. ii.
pp. 385-395. The complete change in Burke's feelings towards his
old friend also appears in a very intemperate letter, written to
Dr. Laurence in 1797. _Burke's Correspond. with Laurence_, p.
152. Compare _Parr's Works_, vol. iv. pp. 67-80, 84-90, 109.
[866] Which used to be contrasted with the bluntness of Johnson; these
eminent men being the two best talkers of their time. See
_Bisset's Life of Burke_, vol. i. p. 127.
[867] _Rogers's Introduction to Burke's Works_, p. xliv.; _Prior's Life
of Burke_, p. 384.
Nor is it true, as some have supposed, that this mania of hostility was
solely directed against the criminal part of the French people. It would
be difficult, in that or in any other age, to find two men of more
active, or indeed enthusiastic benevolence, than Condorcet and La
Fayette. Besides this, Condorcet was one of the most profound thinkers
of his time, and will be remembered as long as genius is honoured among
us.[868] La Fayette was no doubt inferior to Condorcet in point of
ability; but he was the intimate friend of Washington, on whose conduct
he modelled his own,[869] and by whose side he had fought for the
liberties of America: his integrity was, and still is, unsullied: and
his character had a chivalrous and noble turn, which Burke, in his
better days, would have been the first to admire.[870] Both, however,
were natives of that hated country whose liberties they vainly attempted
to achieve. On this account, Burke declared Condorcet to be guilty of
'impious sophistry;'[871] to be a 'fanatic atheist, and furious
democratic republican;'[872] and to be capable of 'the lowest, as well
as the highest and most determined villainies.'[873] As to La Fayette,
when an attempt was made to mitigate the cruel treatment he was
receiving from the Prussian government, Burke not only opposed the
motion made for that purpose in the House of Commons, but took the
opportunity of grossly insulting the unfortunate captive, who was then
languishing in a dungeon.[874] So dead had he become on this subject,
even to the common instincts of our nature, that, in his place in
parliament, he could find no better way of speaking of this injured and
high-souled man, than by calling him a ruffian: 'I would not,' says
Burke,--'I would not debase my humanity by supporting an application in
behalf of such a horrid ruffian.'[875]
[868] There is an interesting account of the melancholy death of this
remarkable man in _Lamartine_, _Hist. des Girondins_, vol. viii.
pp. 76-80; and a contemporary relation in _Musset-Pathay_, _Vie
de Rousseau_, vol. ii. pp. 42-47.
[869] This is the honourable testimony of a political opponent; who
says, that after the dissolution of the Assembly 'La Fayette se
conforma à a conduite de Washington, qu'il avait pris pour
modèle.' _Cassagnac_, _Révolution Française_, vol. iii. pp. 370,
371. Compare the grudging admission of his enemy Bouillé, _Mém.
de Bouillé_, vol. i. p. 125; and for proofs of the affectionate
intimacy between Washington and La Fayette, see _Mém. de
Lafayette_, vol. i. pp. 16, 21, 29, 44, 55, 83, 92, 111, 165,
197, 204, 395, vol. ii. p. 123.
[870] The Duke of Bedford, no bad judge of character, said in 1794, that
La Fayette's 'whole life was an illustration of truth,
disinterestedness, and honour.' _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxxi. p. 664.
So, too, the continuator of Sismondi (_Hist. des Français_, vol.
xxx. p. 355), 'La Fayette, le chevalier de la liberté
d'Amérique;' and Lamartine (_Hist. des Girondins_, vol. iii. p.
200), 'Martyr de la liberté après en avoir été le héros.' Ségur,
who was intimately acquainted with him, gives some account of his
noble character, as it appeared when he was a boy of nineteen.
_Mém. de Ségur_, vol. i. pp. 106, 107. Forty years later, Lady
Morgan met him in France; and what she relates shows how little
he had changed, and how simple his tastes and the habits of his
mind still were. _Morgan's France_, vol. ii. pp. 285-312. Other
notices, from personal knowledge, will be found in _Life of
Roscoe_, vol. ii. p. 178; and in _Trotter's Mem. of Fox_, pp. 319
seq.
[871] 'The impious sophistry of Condorcet.' _Letter to a Noble Lord_, in
_Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 273.
[872] _Thoughts on French Affairs_ in _Burke's Works_, vol. i. p. 574.
[873] 'Condorcet (though no marquis, as he styled himself before the
Revolution) is a man of another sort of birth, fashion, and
occupation from Brissot; but in every principle and every
disposition, to the lowest as well as the highest and most
determined villainies, fully his equal.' _Thoughts on French
Affairs_, in _Burke's Works_, vol. i. p. 579.
[874] 'Groaning under the most oppressive cruelty in the dungeons of
Magdeburg.' _Belsham's Hist. of Great Brit._ vol. ix. p. 151. See
the afflicting details of his sufferings, in _Mém. de Lafayette_,
vol. i. p. 479, vol. ii. pp. 75, 77, 78, 80, 91, 92; and on the
noble equanimity with which he bore them, see _De Staël_, _Rév.
Françoise_, Paris, 1820, vol. ii. p. 103.
[875] It is hardly credible that such language should have been applied
to a man like La Fayette; but I have copied it from the
_Parliamentary History_, vol. xxxi. p. 51, and from _Adolphus_,
vol. v. p. 593. The only difference is, that in Adolphus the
expression is 'I would not debase my humanity;' but in the _Parl.
Hist._, 'I would not debauch my humanity.' But both authorities
are agreed as to the term 'horrid ruffian' being used by Burke.
Compare _Burke's Correspondence with Laurence_, pp. 91, 99.
As to France itself, it is 'Cannibal Castle;'[876] it is 'the republic
of assassins;'[877] it is 'a hell;'[878] its government is composed of
'the dirtiest, lowest, most fraudulent, most knavish, of
chicaners;'[879] its National Assembly are 'miscreants;'[880] its people
are 'an allied army of Amazonian and male cannibal Parisians;'[881] they
are 'a nation of murderers;'[882] they are 'the basest of mankind;'[883]
they are 'murderous atheists;'[884] they are 'a gang of robbers;'[885]
they are 'the prostitute outcasts of mankind;'[886] they are 'a
desperate gang of plunderers, murderers, tyrants, and atheists.'[887] To
make the slightest concessions to such a country in order to preserve
peace, is offering victims 'on the altars of blasphemed regicide;'[888]
even to enter into negotiations is 'exposing our lazar sores at the door
of every proud servitor of the French republic, where the court-dogs
will not deign to lick them.'[889] When our ambassador was actually in
Paris, he 'had the honour of passing his mornings in respectful
attendance at the office of a regicide pettifogger;'[890] and we were
taunted with having sent a 'peer of the realm to the scum of the
earth.'[891] 'France has no longer a place in Europe; it is expunged
from the map; its very name should be forgotten.[892] Why, then, need
men travel in it? Why need our children learn its language? and why are
we to endanger the morals of our ambassadors? who can hardly fail to
return from such a land with their principles corrupted, and with a wish
to conspire against their own country.'[893]
[876] _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 319. In every instance I quote the
precise words employed by Burke.
[877] _Ibid._ vol. ii. p. 279.
[878] Burke's speech, in _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxxi. p. 379.
[879] _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 335.
[880] _Burke's Corresp._ vol. iii. p. 140.
[881] _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 322.
[882] _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxx. p. 115.
[883] _Ibid._ p. 112.
[884] _Ibid._ p. 188.
[885] _Ibid._ p. 435.
[886] _Ibid._ p. 646; the concluding sentence of one of Burke's speeches
in 1793.
[887] _Ibid._ vol. xxxi. p. 426.
[888] _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 320.
[889] _Ibid._ p. 286.
[890] _Ibid._ p. 322.
[891] _Ibid._ p. 318.
[892] _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxviii. p. 353, vol. xxx. p. 390; _Adolphus_,
vol. iv. p. 467.
[893] In the _Letters on a Regicide Peace_, published the year before he
died, he says, 'These ambassadors may easily return as good
courtiers as they went: but can they ever return from that
degrading residence loyal and faithful subjects; or with any true
affection to their master, or true attachment to the
constitution, religion, or laws of their country? There is great
danger that they who enter smiling into this Tryphonian cave,
will come out of it sad and serious conspirators; and such will
continue as long as they live.' _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 282.
He adds in the same work, p. 381, 'Is it for this benefit we open
"the usual relations of peace and amity?" Is it for this our
youth of both sexes are to form themselves by travel? Is it for
this that with expense and pains we form their lisping infant
accents to the language of France?... Let it be remembered,
that no young man can go to any part of Europe without taking
this place of pestilential contagion in his way; and, whilst the
less active part of the community will be debauched by this
travel, whilst children are poisoned at these schools, our trade
will put the finishing hand to our ruin. No factory will be
settled in France, that will not become a club of complete French
Jacobins. The minds of young men of that description will receive
a taint in their religion, their morals, and their politics,
which they will in a short time communicate to the whole
kingdom.'
This is sad, indeed, from such a man as Burke once was; but what
remains, shows still more clearly how the associations and composition
of his mind had been altered. He who, with humanity not less than with
wisdom, had strenuously laboured to prevent the American war, devoted
the last few years of his life to kindle a new war, compared to which
that with America was a light and trivial episode. In his calmer
moments, no one would have more willingly recognized that the opinions
prevalent in any country are the inevitable results of the circumstances
in which that country had been placed. But now he sought to alter those
opinions by force. From the beginning of the French Revolution, he
insisted upon the right, and indeed upon the necessity, of compelling
France to change her principles;[894] and, at a later period, he blamed
the allied sovereigns for not dictating to a great people the government
they ought to adopt.[895] Such was the havoc circumstances had made in
his well-ordered intellect, that to this one principle he sacrificed
every consideration of justice, of mercy, and of expediency. As if war,
even in its mildest form, were not sufficiently hateful, he sought to
give to it that character of a crusade[896] which increasing knowledge
had long since banished: and loudly proclaiming that the contest was
religious rather than temporal, he revived old prejudices in order to
cause fresh crimes.[897] He also declared that the war should be carried
on for revenge as well as for defence, and that we must never lay down
our arms until we had utterly destroyed the men by whom the Revolution
was brought about.[898] And, as if these things were not enough, he
insisted that this, the most awful of all wars, being begun, was not to
be hurried over; although it was to be carried on for revenge as well as
for religion, and the resources of civilized men were to be quickened by
the ferocious passions of crusaders, still it was not to be soon ended;
it was to be durable; it must have permanence; it must, says Burke, in
the spirit of a burning hatred, be protracted in a long war: 'I speak it
emphatically, and with a desire that it should be marked, in a _long_
war.'[899]
[894] In _Observations on the Conduct of the Minority_, 1793, he says,
that during four years he had wished for 'a general war against
jacobins and jacobinism.' _Burke's Works_, vol. i. p. 611.
[895] For, in the first place, 'the united sovereigns very much injured
their cause by admitting that they had nothing to do with the
interior arrangements of France.' _Heads for Consideration on the
Present State of Affairs_, written in November 1792, in _Burke's
Works_, vol. i. p. 583. And that he knew that this was not merely
a question of destroying a faction, appears from the observable
circumstance, that even in January 1791 he wrote to Trevor
respecting war, 'France is weak indeed, divided and deranged; but
God knows, when the things came to be tried, whether the invaders
would not find that their enterprise _was not to support a party,
but to conquer a kingdom_.' _Burke's Correspond._ vol. iii. p.
184.
[896] As Lord J. Russell truly calls it, _Mem. of Fox_, vol. iii. p. 34.
See also _Schlosser's Eighteenth Century_, vol. ii. p. 93, vol.
v. p. 109, vol. vi. p. 291; _Nicholls's Recollections_, vol. i.
p. 300; _Parr's Works_, vol. iii. p. 242.
[897] 'We cannot, if we would, delude ourselves about the true state of
this dreadful contest. _It is a religious war._' _Remarks on the
Policy of the Allies_, in _Burke's Works_, vol. i. p. 600.
[898] See the long list of proscriptions in _Burke's Works_, vol. i. p.
604. And the principle of revenge is again advocated in a letter
written in 1793, in _Burke's Correspond._ vol. iv. p. 183. And in
1794, he told the House of Commons that 'the war must no longer
be confined to the vain attempt of raising a barrier to the
lawless and savage power of France; but must be directed to the
only rational end it can pursue; namely, the entire destruction
of the desperate horde which gave it birth.' _Parl. Hist._ vol.
xxxi. p. 427.
[899] _Letters on a Regicide Peace_, in _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p.
291. In this horrible sentence, perhaps the most horrible ever
penned by an English politician, the italics are not my own; they
are in the text.
It was to be a war to force a great people to change their government.
It was to be a war carried on for the purpose of punishment. It was also
to be a religious war. Finally, it was to be a long war. Was there ever
any other man who wished to afflict the human race with such extensive,
searching, and protracted calamities? Such cruel, such reckless, and yet
such deliberate opinions, if they issued from a sane mind, would
immortalize even the most obscure statesman, because they would load his
name with imperishable infamy. For where can we find, even among the
most ignorant or most sanguinary politicians, sentiments like these? Yet
they proceed from one who, a very few years before, was the most eminent
political philosopher England has ever possessed. To us it is only given
to mourn over so noble a wreck. More than this no one should do. We may
contemplate with reverence the mighty ruin; but the mysteries of its
decay let no man presume to invade, unless, to use the language of the
greatest of our masters, he can tell how to minister to a diseased mind,
pluck the sorrows which are rooted in the memory, and raze out the
troubles that are written in the brain.
It is a relief to turn from so painful a subject, even though we descend
to the petty, huckstering politics of the English court. And truly, the
history of the treatment experienced by the most illustrious of our
politicians, is highly characteristic of the prince under whom he lived.
While Burke was consuming his life in great public services, labouring
to reform our finances, improve our laws, and enlighten our commercial
policy,--while he was occupied with these things, the king regarded him
with coldness and aversion.[900] But when the great statesman
degenerated into an angry brawler; when, irritated by disease, he made
it the sole aim of his declining years to kindle a deadly war between
the two first countries of Europe, and declared that to this barbarous
object he would sacrifice all other questions of policy, however
important they might be;[901]--then it was that a perception of his vast
abilities began to dawn upon the mind of the king. Before this, no one
had been bold enough to circulate in the palace even a whisper of his
merits. Now, however, in the successive, and eventually the rapid
decline of his powers, he had fallen almost to the level of the royal
intellect; and now he was first warmed by the beams of the royal favour.
Now he was a man after the king's own heart.[902] Less than two years
before his death, there was settled upon him, at the express desire of
George III., two considerable pensions;[903] and the king even wished to
raise him to the peerage, in order that the House of Lords might benefit
by the services of so great a counsellor.[904]
[900] 'I know,' said Burke, in one of those magnificent speeches which
mark the zenith of his intellect,--'I know the map of England as
well as the noble lord, or as any other person; and I know that
the way I take is not the road to preferment.' _Parl. Hist._ vol.
xvii. p. 1269.
[901] See, among many other instances, an extraordinary passage on
'Jacobinism,' in his _Works_, vol. ii. p. 449, which should be
compared with a letter he wrote in 1792, respecting a proposed
coalition ministry, _Correspond._ vol. iii. pp. 519, 520: 'But my
advice was, that as a foundation of the whole, the political
principle must be settled as the preliminary, namely, "a total
hostility to the French system, at home and abroad."'
[902] The earliest evidence I have met with of the heart of George III.
beginning to open towards Burke, is in August 1791; see in
_Burke's Correspondence_, vol. iii. p. 278, an exquisitely absurd
account of his reception at the levee. Burke must have been
fallen, indeed, before he could write such a letter.
[903] 'Said to have originated in the express wish of the king.'
_Prior's Life of Burke_, p. 489. Mr. Prior estimates these
pensions at 3,700_l._ a-year; but if we may rely on Mr. Nicholls,
the sum was even greater: 'Mr. Burke was rewarded with two
pensions, estimated to be worth 40,000_l._' _Nicholls's
Recollections_, vol. i. p. 136. Burke was sixty-five; and a
pension of 3,700_l._ a-year would not be worth 40,000_l._, as the
tables were then calculated. The statement of Mr. Prior is,
however, confirmed by Wansey, in 1794. See _Nichols's Lit. Anec.
of the Eighteenth Century_, vol. iii. p. 81.
[904] _Prior's Life of Burke_, p. 460; _Nichols's Lit. Anec._ vol. iii.
p. 81; _Bisset's Life of Burke_, vol. ii. p. 414.
This digression respecting the character of Burke has been longer than I
had anticipated; but it will not, I hope, be considered unimportant;
for, in addition to the intrinsic interest of the subject, it
illustrates the feelings of George III. towards great men, and it shows
what the opinions were which in his reign it was thought necessary to
hold. In the sequel of this work, I shall trace the effect of such
opinions upon the interests of the country, considered as a whole; but
for the object of the present Introduction, it will be sufficient to
point out the connexion in one or two more of those prominent instances,
the character of which is too notorious to admit of discussion.
Of these leading and conspicuous events, the American war was the
earliest, and for several years it almost entirely absorbed the
attention of English politicians. In the reign of George II. a proposal
had been made to increase the revenue by taxing the colonies; which, as
the Americans were totally unrepresented in parliament, was simply a
proposition to tax an entire people without even the form of asking
their consent. This scheme of public robbery was rejected by that able
and moderate man who was then at the head of affairs; and the
suggestion, being generally deemed impracticable, fell to the ground,
and seems, indeed, hardly to have excited attention.[905] But what was
deemed by the government of George II. to be a dangerous stretch of
arbitrary power, was eagerly welcomed by the government of George III.
For the new king, having the most exalted notion of his own authority,
and being, from his miserable education, entirely ignorant of public
affairs, thought that to tax the Americans for the benefit of the
English, would be a masterpiece of policy. When, therefore, the old idea
was revived, it met with his cordial acquiescence; and when the
Americans showed their intention of resisting this monstrous injustice,
he was only the more confirmed in his opinion that it was necessary to
curb their unruly will. Nor need we be surprised at the rapidity with
which such angry feelings broke out. Indeed, looking, on the one hand,
at the despotic principles which, for the first time since the
Revolution, were now revived at the English court; and looking, on the
other hand, at the independent spirit of the colonists,--it was
impossible to avoid a struggle between the two parties; and the only
questions were, as to what form the contest would take, and towards
which side victory was most likely to incline.[906]
[905] 'It had been proposed to Sir Robert Walpole to raise the revenue
by imposing taxes on America; but that minister, who could
foresee beyond the benefit of the actual moment, declared it must
be a bolder man than himself who should venture on such an
expedient.' _Walpole's George III._ vol. ii. p. 70. Compare
_Phillimore's Mem. of Lyttleton_, vol. ii. p. 662; _Bancroft's
American Revolution_, vol. i. p. 96; _Belsham's Hist. of Great
Britain_, vol. v. p. 102.
[906] That some sort of rupture was unavoidable, must, I think, be
admitted; but we are not bound to believe the assertion of Horace
Walpole, who says (_Mem. of George II._ vol. i. p. 397) that in
1754 he predicted the American rebellion. Walpole, though a keen
observer of the surface of society, was not the man to take a
view of this kind; unless, as is hardly probable, he heard an
opinion to that effect expressed by his father. Sir Robert
Walpole may have said something respecting the increasing love of
liberty in the colonies; but it was impossible for him to foresee
how that love would be fostered by the arbitrary proceedings of
the government of George III.
On the part of the English government, no time was lost. Five years
after the accession of George III., a bill was brought into parliament
to tax the Americans;[907] and so complete had been the change in
political affairs, that not the least difficulty was found in passing a
measure which, in the reign of George II., no minister had dared to
propose. Formerly, such a proposal, if made, would certainly have been
rejected; now the most powerful parties in the state were united in its
favour. The king, on every occasion, paid a court to the clergy, to
which, since the death of Anne, they had been unaccustomed; he was,
therefore, sure of their support, and they zealously aided him in every
attempt to oppress the colonies.[908] The aristocracy, a few leading
Whigs alone excepted, were on the same side, and looked to the taxation
of America as a means of lessening their own contributions.[909] As to
George III., his feelings on the subject were notorious;[910] and the
more liberal party not having yet recovered from the loss of power
consequent on the death of George II., there was little fear of
difficulties from the cabinet; it being well known that the throne was
occupied by a prince whose first object was to keep ministers in strict
dependence on himself, and who, whenever it was practicable, called into
office such weak and flexible men as would yield unhesitating submission
to his wishes.[911]
[907] The general proposition was introduced in 1764; the bill itself
early in 1765. See _Mahon's Hist. of England_, vol. v. pp. 82,
85; and _Grenville Papers_, vol. ii. pp. 373, 374. On the
complete change of policy which this indicated, see _Brougham's
Polit. Philos._ part iii. p. 328.
[908] The correspondence of that time contains ample proof of the
bitterness of the clergy against the Americans. Even in 1777,
Burke wrote to Fox: 'The Tories do universally think their power
and consequence involved in the success of this American
business. The clergy are astonishingly warm in it; and what the
Tories are when embodied and united with their natural head, the
crown, and animated by their clergy, no man knows better than
yourself.' _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 390. Compare _Bishop
Newton's Life of Himself_, pp. 134, 157.
[909] 'The overbearing aristocracy desired some reduction of the land
tax, at the expense of America.' _Bancroft's Hist. of the
American Revolution_, vol. ii. p. 414. The merchants, on the
other hand, were opposed to these violent proceedings. See, on
this contrast between the landed and commercial interests, a
letter from Lord Shelburne, in 1774, and another from Lord
Camden, in 1775, in _Chatham Correspond._ vol. iv. pp. 341, 401.
See also the speeches of Trecothick and Vyner, in _Parl. Hist._
vol. xvi. p. 507, vol. xviii. p. 1361.
[910] It was believed at the time, and it is not improbable, that the
king himself suggested the taxation of America, to which
Grenville at first objected. Compare _Wraxall's Mem. of his own
Time_, vol. ii. pp. 111, 112, with _Nicholl's Recollections_,
vol. i. pp. 205, 386. This may have been merely a rumour; but it
is quite consistent with everything we know of the character of
George III., and there can, at all events, be no doubt as to his
feelings respecting the general question. It is certain that he
over-persuaded Lord North to engage in the contest with America,
and induced that minister to go to war, and to continue it even
after success had become hopeless. See _Bancroft's American
Revolution_, vol. iii. pp. 307, 308; _Russell's Mem. of Fox_,
vol. i. pp. 247, 254; and the _Bedford Correspond._ vol. iii. p.
li. See also, in regard to the repeal of the Stamp Act, the
_Grenville Papers_, vol. iii. p. 373; a curious passage, with
which Lord Mahon, the last edition of whose history was published
in the same year (1853), appears to have been unacquainted.
_Mahon's Hist. of England_, vol. v. p. 139. In America the
sentiments of the king were well known. In 1775, Jefferson writes
from Philadelphia: 'We are told, and everything proves it true,
that he is the bitterest enemy we have.' _Jefferson's
Correspond._ vol. i. p. 153. And in 1782 Franklin writes to
Livingston, 'The king hates us most cordially.' _Life of
Franklin_, vol. ii. p. 126.
[911] 'A court,' as Lord Albemarle observes,--'a court that required
ministers to be, not the public servants of the state, but the
private domestics of the sovereign.' _Albemarle's Mem. of
Rockingham_, vol. i. p. 248. Compare _Bancroft's American
Revolution_, vol. ii. p. 109. In the same way, Burke, in 1767,
writes: 'His majesty never was in better spirits. He has got a
ministry weak and dependent; and, what is better, willing to
continue so.' _Burke's Correspond._ vol. i. p. 133. Ten years
later, Lord Chatham openly taunted the king with this disgraceful
peculiarity: 'Thus to pliable men, not capable men, was the
government of this once glorious empire intrusted.' _Chatham's
Speech in 1777_, in _Adolphus_, vol. ii. pp. 499, 500.
Everything being thus prepared, there followed those events which were
to be expected from such a combination. Without stopping to relate
details which are known to every reader, it may be briefly mentioned
that, in this new state of things, the wise and forbearing policy of the
preceding reign was set at naught, and the national councils guided by
rash and ignorant men, who soon brought the greatest disasters upon the
country, and within a few years actually dismembered the empire. In
order to enforce the monstrous claim of taxing a whole people without
their consent, there was waged against America a war ill-conducted,
unsuccessful, and, what is far worse, accompanied by cruelties
disgraceful to a civilized nation.[912] To this may be added, that an
immense trade was nearly annihilated; every branch of commerce was
thrown into confusion;[913] we were disgraced in the eyes of
Europe;[914] we incurred an expense of 140,000,000_l._;[915] and we
lost by far the most valuable colonies any nation has ever possessed.
[912] For some evidence of the ferocity with which this war was
conducted by the English, see _Tucker's Life of Jefferson_, vol.
i. pp. 138, 139, 160; _Jefferson's Mem. and Correspond._ vol. i.
pp. 352, 429, vol. ii. pp. 336, 337; _Almon's Correspond. of
Wilkes_, vol. v. pp. 229-232, edit. 1805; _Adolphus's Hist. of
George III._ vol. ii. pp. 362, 391. These horrible cruelties were
frequently mentioned in parliament, but without producing the
least effect on the king or his ministers. See _Parl. Hist._ vol.
xix. pp. 371, 403, 423, 424, 432, 438, 440, 477, 487, 488, 489,
567, 578, 579, 695, 972, 1393, 1394, vol. xx. p. 43. Among the
expenses of the war which government laid before parliament, one
of the items was for 'five gross of scalping knives.' _Parl.
Hist._ vol. xix. pp. 971, 972. See further _Mém. de Lafayette_,
vol. i. pp. 23, 25, 99.
[913] In Manchester, 'in consequence of the American troubles, nine in
ten of the artisans in that town had been discharged from
employment.' This was stated in 1766, by no less an authority
than Conway. _Mahon's Hist. of England_, vol. v. p. 135. As the
struggle became more obstinate the evil was more marked, and
ample evidence of the enormous injury inflicted on England will
be found by comparing _Franklin's Correspondence_, vol. i. p.
352; _Adolphus's Hist. of George III._ vol. ii. p. 261; _Burke's
Works_, vol. i. p. 111; _Parl. Hist._ vol. xviii. pp. 734, 951,
963, 964, vol. xix. pp. 259, 341, 710, 711, 1072; _Walpole's Mem.
of George III._ vol. ii. p. 218.
[914] Even Mr. Adolphus, in his Tory history, says, that in 1782 'the
cause of Great Britain seemed degraded to the lowest state; ill
success and the prevalent opinion of mismanagement rendered the
espousal of it among the selfish powers of the continent almost
disreputable.' _Hist. of George III._ vol. iii. pp. 391, 392. For
proof of the opinions held in foreign countries respecting this,
I cannot do better than refer to _Mém. de Ségur_, vol. iii. pp.
184, 185; _[OE]uvres de Turgot_, vol. ix. p. 377; _Soulavie_,
_Mém. de Louis XVI._ vol. iv. pp. 363, 364; _Koch_, _Tableau des
Révolutions_, vol. ii. pp. 190-194; _Mem. of Mallet du Pan_, vol.
i. p. 37.
[915] Sir John Sinclair, in his _Hist. of the Revenue_, vol. ii. p. 114,
says 139,171,876_l._
Such were the first fruits of the policy of George III. But the mischief
did not stop there. The opinions which it was necessary to advocate in
order to justify this barbarous war, recoiled upon ourselves. In order
to defend the attempt to destroy the liberties of America, principles
were laid down which, if carried into effect, would have subverted the
liberties of England. Not only in the court, but in both houses of
parliament, from the episcopal bench, and from the pulpits of the
church-party, there were promulgated doctrines of the most dangerous
kind--doctrines unsuited to a limited monarchy, and, indeed,
incompatible with it. The extent to which this reaction proceeded is
known to very few readers, because the evidence of it is chiefly to be
found in the parliamentary debates, and in the theological literature,
particularly the sermons of that time, none of which are now much
studied. But, not to anticipate matters belonging to another part of
this work, it is enough to say that the danger was so imminent as to
make the ablest defenders of popular liberty believe that everything was
at stake; and that if the Americans were vanquished, the next step would
be to attack the liberties of England, and endeavour to extend to the
mother-country the same arbitrary government which by that time would
have been established in the colonies.[916]
[916] Dr. Jebb, an able observer, thought that the American war 'must be
decisive of the liberties of both countries.' _Disney's Life of
Jebb_, p. 92. So, too, Lord Chatham wrote in 1777, 'poor England
will have fallen upon her own sword.' _The Grenville Papers_,
vol. iv. p. 573. In the same year, Burke said of the attempt made
to rule the colonies by military force, 'that the establishment
of such a power in America will utterly ruin our finances (though
its certain effect), is the smallest part of our concern. It will
become an apt, powerful, and certain engine for the destruction
of our freedom here.' _Burke's Works_, vol. ii. p. 399. Compare
vol. i. pp. 189, 210; _Parl. Hist._ vol. xvi. pp. 104, 107, 651,
652, vol. xix. pp. 11, 1056, vol. xx. p. 119, vol. xxi. p. 907.
Hence it was that Fox wished the Americans to be victorious
(_Russell's Mem. of Fox_, vol. i. p. 143); for which some writers
have actually accused him of want of patriotism!
Whether or not these fears were exaggerated, is a question of
considerable difficulty; but after a careful study of that time, and a
study too from sources not much used by historians, I feel satisfied
that they who are best acquainted with the period will be the most
willing to admit that, though the danger may have been overrated, it was
far more serious than men are now inclined to believe. At all events, it
is certain that the general aspect of political affairs was calculated
to excite great alarm. It is certain, that during many years, the
authority of the crown continued to increase, until it reached a height
of which no example had been seen in England for several generations. It
is certain that the Church of England exerted all her influence in
favour of those despotic principles which the king wished to enforce. It
is also certain that, by the constant creation of new peers, all holding
the same views, the character of the House of Lords was undergoing a
slow but decisive change; and that, whenever a favourable opportunity
arose, high judicial appointments and high ecclesiastical appointments
were conferred upon men notorious for their leaning towards the royal
prerogative. These are facts which cannot be denied; and, putting them
together, there remains, I think, no doubt, that the American war was a
great crisis in the history of England, and that if the colonists had
been defeated, our liberties would have been for a time in considerable
jeopardy. From that risk we were saved by the Americans, who with heroic
spirit resisted the royal armies, defeated them at every point, and at
length, separating themselves from the mother-country, began that
wonderful career, which, in less than eighty years, has raised them to
an unexampled prosperity, and which to us ought to be deeply
interesting, as showing what may be effected by the unaided resources of
a free people.
Seven years after this great contest had been brought to a successful
close, and the Americans, happily for the interests of mankind, had
finally secured their independence, another nation rose up and turned
against its rulers. The history of the causes of the French Revolution
will be found in another part of this volume; at present we have only to
glance at the effects it produced upon the policy of the English
government. In France, as is well known, the movement was extremely
rapid; the old institutions, which were so corrupted as to be utterly
unfit for use, were quickly destroyed; and the people, frenzied by
centuries of oppression, practised the most revolting cruelties,
saddening the hour of their triumph by crimes that disgraced the noble
cause for which they struggled.
All this, frightful as it was, did nevertheless form a part of the
natural course of affairs; it was the old story of tyranny exciting
revenge, and revenge blinding men to every consequence except the
pleasure of glutting their own passions. If, under these circumstances,
France had been left to herself, the Revolution, like all other
revolutions, would soon have subsided, and a form of government have
arisen suited to the actual condition of things. What the form would
have been, it is impossible now to say; that, however, was a question
with which no foreign country had the slightest concern. Whether it
should be an oligarchy, or a despotic monarchy, or a republic, it was
for France to decide; but it was evidently not the business of any other
nation to decide for her. Still less was it likely that, on so delicate
a point, France would submit to dictation from a country which had
always been her rival, and which not unfrequently had been her bitter
and successful enemy.
But these considerations, obvious as they are, were lost upon George
III., and upon those classes which were then in the ascendant. The fact
that a great people had risen against their oppressors disquieted the
consciences of men in high places. The same evil passions, and indeed
the same evil language, which a few years before were directed against
the Americans, were now turned against the French; and it was but too
clear that the same results would follow.[917] In defiance of every
maxim of sound policy, the English ambassador was recalled from France
simply because that country chose to do away with the monarchy, and
substitute a republic in its place. This was the first decisive step
towards an open rupture, and it was taken, not because France had
injured England, but because France had changed her government.[918] A
few months later, the French, copying the example of the English in the
preceding century,[919] brought their king to a public trial, sentenced
him to die, and struck off his head in the midst of his own capital. It
must be allowed that this act was needless, that it was cruel, and that
it was grossly impolitic. But it is palpably evident that they who
consented to the execution were responsible only to God and their
country; and that any notice of it from abroad, which bore the
appearance of a threat, would rouse the spirit of France, would unite
all parties into one, and would induce the nation to adopt as its own a
crime of which it might otherwise have repented, but which it could not
now abjure without incurring the shame of having yielded to the
dictation of a foreign power.
[917] In 1792, and therefore before the war broke out, Lord Lansdowne,
one of the extremely few peers who escaped from the prevailing
corruption, said,'The present instance recalled to his memory the
proceedings of this country previous to the American war. The
same abusive and degrading terms were applied to the Americans
that were now used to the National Convention,--_the same
consequences might follow_.' _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxx. p. 155.
[918] Compare _Belsham's Hist. of Great Britain_, vol. viii. p. 490,
with _Tomline's Life of Pitt_, vol. ii. p. 548. The letter to
Lord Gower, the English minister in Paris, is printed in _Parl.
Hist._ vol. xxx. pp. 143, 144. Its date is 17th August, 1792.
[919] Just before the Revolution, Robert de Saint-Vincent pertinently
remarked, by way of caution, that the English 'have dethroned
seven of their kings, and beheaded the eighth.' _Mem. of Mallet
du Pan_, vol. i. p. 146; and we are told in _Alison's Europe_
(vol. ii. pp. 199, 296, 315), that in 1792 Louis 'anticipated the
fate of Charles I.' Compare _Williams's Letters from France_, 2nd
edit. 1796, vol. iv. p. 2.
In England, however, as soon as the fate of the king was known, the
government, without waiting for explanation, and without asking for any
guarantee as to the future, treated the death of Louis as an offence
against itself, and imperiously ordered the French residents to quit the
country:[920] thus wantonly originating a war which lasted twenty
years, cost the lives of millions, plunged all Europe into confusion,
and, more than any other circumstance, stopped the march of
civilization, by postponing for a whole generation those reforms, which,
late in the eighteenth century, the progress of affairs rendered
indispensable.
[920] Belsham (_Hist. of Great Britain_, vol. viii. p. 525) supposes,
and probably with reason, that the English government was bent
upon war even before the death of Louis; but it appears
(_Tomline's Pitt_, vol. ii. p. 599) that it was not until the
24th of January 1793, that Chauvelin was actually ordered to
leave England, and that this was in consequence of 'the British
ministers having received information of the execution of the
king of France.' Compare _Belsham_, vol. viii. p. 530. The common
opinion, therefore, seems correct, that the proximate cause of
hostilities was the execution of Louis. See _Alison's Hist._ vol.
ii. p. 522, vol. v. p. 249, vol. vi. p. 656; and _Newmarch_, in
_Journal of Statist. Soc._ vol. xviii. p. 108.
The European results of this, the most hateful, the most unjust, and the
most atrocious war, England has ever waged against any country, will be
hereafter considered;[921] at present I confine myself to a short
summary of its leading effects on English society.
[921] Lord Brougham (_Sketches of Statesmen_, vol. i. p. 79) rightly
says of this war, that 'the youngest man living will not survive
the fatal effects of this flagrant political crime.' So eager,
however, was George III. in its favour, that when Wilberforce
separated himself from Pitt on account of the war, and moved an
amendment on the subject in the House of Commons, the king showed
his spite by refusing to take any notice of Wilberforce the next
time he appeared at court. _Life of Wilberforce_, vol. ii. pp.
10, 72.
What distinguishes this sanguinary contest from all preceding ones, and
what gives to it its worst feature, is, that it was eminently a war of
opinions,--a war which we carried on, not with a view to territorial
acquisitions, but with the object of repressing that desire for reforms
of every kind, which had now become the marked characteristic of the
leading countries of Europe.[922] As soon, therefore, as hostilities
began the English government had a twofold duty to perform it had to
destroy a republic abroad, and it had to prevent improvement at home.
The first of these duties it fulfilled by squandering the blood and the
treasure of England, till it had thrown nearly every family into
mourning, and reduced the country to the verge of national bankruptcy.
The other duty it attempted to execute by enacting a series of laws
intended to put an end to the free discussion of political questions,
and stifle that spirit of inquiry which was every year becoming more
active. These laws were so comprehensive, and so well calculated to
effect their purpose, that if the energy of the nation had not prevented
their being properly enforced, they would either have destroyed every
vestige of popular liberty, or else have provoked a general rebellion.
Indeed, during several years the danger was so imminent, that, in the
opinion of some high authorities, nothing could have averted it, but the
bold spirit with which our English juries, by their hostile verdicts,
resisted the proceedings of government, and refused to sanction laws
which the crown had proposed, and to which a timid and servile
legislature had willingly consented.[923]
[922] In 1793 and subsequently, it was stated both by the opposition,
and also by the supporters of government, that the war with
France was directed against doctrines and opinions, and that one
of its main objects was to discourage the progress of democratic
institutions. See, among many other instances, _Parl. Hist._ vol.
xxx. pp. 413, 417, 1077, 1199, 1200, 1283, vol. xxxi. pp. 466,
592, 649, 680, 1036, 1047, vol. xxxiii. pp. 603, 604; _Nicholls's
Recollections_, vol. ii. pp. 156, 157.
[923] Lord Campbell (_Lives of the Chancellors_, vol. vi. p. 449) says,
that if the laws passed in 1794 had been enforced, 'the only
chance of escaping servitude would have been civil war.' Compare
_Brougham's Statesmen_, vol. i. p. 237, vol. ii. pp. 63, 64, on
our 'escape from proscription and from arbitrary power ... during
the almost hopeless struggle from 1793 to 1801.' Both these
writers pay great and deserved honour to the successful efforts
of Erskine with juries. Indeed the spirit of our jurors was so
determined, that in 1794, at Tooke's trial, they only consulted
eight minutes before bringing in a verdict of acquittal.
_Stephens's Mem. of Horne Tooke_, vol. ii. p. 147; see also, on
this crisis, _Life of Cartwright_, vol. i. p. 210. The people
sympathised throughout with the victims; and while the trial of
Hardy was pending, the attorney-general, Scott, was always mobbed
when he left the court, and on one occasion his life was in
danger. _Twiss's Life of Eldon_, vol. i. pp. 185, 186. Compare
_Holcroft's Memoirs_, vol. ii. pp. 180, 181.
We may form some idea of the magnitude of the crisis by considering the
steps which were actually taken against the two most important of all
our institutions, namely, the freedom of the public press, and the
right of assembling in meetings for the purpose of public discussion.
These are, in a political point of view, the two most striking
peculiarities which distinguish us from every other European people. As
long as they are preserved intact, and as long as they are fearlessly
and frequently employed, there will always be ample protection against
those encroachments on the part of government which cannot be too
jealously watched, and to which even the freest country is liable. To
this may be added, that these institutions possess other advantages of
the highest order. By encouraging political discussion, they increase
the amount of intellect brought to bear upon the political business of
the country. They also increase the total strength of the nation, by
causing large classes of men to exercise faculties which would otherwise
lie dormant, but which by these means are quickened into activity, and
become available for other purposes of social interest.
But in the period we are now considering, it was deemed advisable that
the influence of the people should be lessened; it was, therefore,
thought improper that they should strengthen their abilities by
exercising them. To relate the details of that bitter war, which, late
in the eighteenth century, the English government carried on against
every kind of free discussion, would lead me far beyond the limits of
this Introduction; and I can only hastily refer to the vindictive
prosecutions, and, whenever a verdict was obtained, the vindictive
punishments, of men like Adams, Bonney, Crossfield, Frost, Gerald,
Hardy, Holt, Hodson, Holcroft, Joyce, Kidd, Lambert, Margarot, Martin,
Muir, Palmer, Perry, Skirving, Stannard, Thelwall, Tooke, Wakefield,
Wardie, Winterbotham: all of whom were indicted, and many of whom were
fined, imprisoned, or transported, because they expressed their
sentiments with freedom, and because they used language such as in our
time is employed with perfect impunity, by speakers at public meetings,
and by writers in the public press.
As, however, juries in several cases refused to convict men who were
prosecuted for these offences, it was determined to recur to measures
still more decisive. In 1795, a law was passed, by which it was
manifestly intended to put an end for ever to all popular discussions
either on political or religious matters. For by it every public meeting
was forbidden, unless notice of it were inserted in a newspaper five
days beforehand;[924] such notice to contain a statement of the objects
of the meeting, and of the time and place where it was to assemble. And,
to bring the whole arrangement completely under the supervision of
government, it was ordered, that not only should the notice, thus
published, be signed by householders, but that the original manuscript
should be preserved, for the information of the justices of the peace,
who might require a copy of it: a significant threat, which, in those
days, was easily understood.[925] It was also enacted that, even after
these precautions had been taken, any single justice might compel the
meeting to disperse, if, in his opinion, the language held by the
speakers was calculated to bring the sovereign or the government into
contempt; while, at the same time, he was authorized to arrest those
whom he considered to be the offenders.[926] The power of dissolving a
public meeting, and of seizing its leaders, was thus conferred upon a
common magistrate, and conferred too without the slightest provision
against its abuse. In other words, the right of putting an end to all
public discussions on the most important subjects, was lodged in the
hands of a man appointed by the crown, and removable by the crown at its
own pleasure. To this it was added, that if the meeting should consist
of twelve, or upwards of twelve persons, and should remain together for
one hour after being ordered to separate,--in such case, the penalty of
death was to be inflicted, even if only twelve disobeyed this the
arbitrary command of a single and irresponsible magistrate.[927]
[924] 'Five days at least.' _Stat. 36 George III._ c. 8, § 1. This
applied to meetings 'holden for the purpose or on the pretext of
considering of or preparing any petition, complaint,
remonstrance, or declaration, or other address to the king, or to
both houses, or either house, of parliament, for alteration of
matters established in church or state, or for the purpose or on
the pretext of deliberating upon any grievance in church or
state.' The only exceptions allowed were in the case of meetings
called by magistrates, officials, and the majority of the grand
jury.
[925] The insertor of the notice in the newspaper 'shall cause such
notice and authority to be carefully preserved, ... and cause a
true copy thereof (if required) to be delivered to any justice of
the peace for the county, city, town, or place where such person
shall reside, or where such newspaper shall be printed, and who
shall require the same.' _36 George III._ c. 8, § 1.
[926] C. 8, §§ 6 and 7, referring to 'meetings on notice;' and to
persons holding language which shall even 'tend to incite.' These
two sections are very remarkable.
[927] 'It shall be adjudged,' says the Act, 'felony without benefit of
clergy; and the offenders therein shall be adjudged felons, and
shall suffer death as in case of felony without benefit of
clergy.' _36 George III._ c. 8, § 6.
In 1799, another law was passed, forbidding any open field, or place of
any kind, to be used for lecturing, or for debating, unless a specific
license for such place had been obtained from the magistrates. It was
likewise enacted, that all circulating-libraries, and all reading-rooms,
should be subject to the same provision; no person, without leave from
the constituted authorities, being permitted to lend on hire in his own
house, newspapers, pamphlets, or even books of any kind.[928] Before
shops of this sort could be opened, a license must first be obtained
from two justices of the peace; which, however, was to be renewed at
least once a year, and might be revoked at any intermediate period.[929]
If a man lent books without the permission of the magistrates, or if he
allowed lectures or debates, 'on any subject whatever,' to be held under
his roof, then, for such grievous crime, he was to be fined 100_l._
a-day; and every person who aided him, either by presiding over the
discussion, or by supplying a book, was for each offence to be fined
20_l._ The proprietor of so pernicious an establishment was not only to
suffer from these ruinous fines, but was declared liable to still
further punishment as the keeper of a disorderly house.[930]
[928] _Stat. 39 George III._ c. 79, § 15.
[929] The license 'shall be in force for the space of one year and no
longer, or for any less space of time therein to be specified;
and which license it shall be lawful for the justices of the
peace' &c. 'to revoke and declare void, and no longer in force,
by any order of such justices; ... and thereupon such license
shall cease and determine, and be thenceforth utterly void and of
no effect.' _39 George III._ c. 79, § 18.
[930] Such things are so incredible, that I must again quote the words
of the Act: 'Every house, room, or place, which shall be opened
or used as a place of meeting for the purpose of reading books,
pamphlets, newspapers, or other publications, and to which any
person shall be admitted by payment of money' (if not regularly
licensed by the authorities), ... 'shall be deemed a
disorderly house;' and the person opening it shall 'be otherwise
punished as the law directs in case of disorderly houses.' _39
George III._ c. 79, § 15. The germ of this law may be found in
_36 George III._ c. 8, § § 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Nowhere are the
weakest parts of the human mind more clearly seen than in the
history of legislation.
To modern ears it sounds somewhat strange, that the owner of a public
reading-room should not only incur extravagant fines, but should also be
punished as the keeper of a disorderly house; and that all this should
happen to him, simply because he opened his shop without asking
permission from the local magistrates. Strange, however, as this
appears, it was, at all events, consistent, since it formed part of a
regular plan for bringing, not only the actions of men, but even their
opinions, under the direct control of the executive government. Thus it
was that the laws, now for the first time passed, against newspapers,
were so stringent, and the prosecution of authors so unrelenting, that
there was an evident intention to ruin every public writer who expressed
independent sentiments.[931] These measures, and others of a similar
character, which will hereafter be noticed, excited such alarm, that, in
the opinion of some of the ablest observers, the state of public affairs
was becoming desperate, perhaps irretrievable. The extreme despondency
with which, late in the eighteenth century, the best friends of liberty
looked to the future, is very observable, and forms a striking feature
in their private correspondence.[932] And although comparatively few men
venture to express such sentiments in public, Fox, whose fearless temper
made him heedless of risk, openly stated what would have checked the
government, if anything could have done so. For this eminent statesman,
who had been minister more than once, and was afterwards minister again,
did not hesitate to say, from his place in parliament, in 1795, that if
these, and other shameful laws which were proposed, should be actually
passed, forcible resistance to the government would be merely a question
of prudence; and that the people, if they felt themselves equal to the
conflict, would be justified in withstanding the arbitrary measures by
which their rulers sought to extinguish their liberties.[933]
[931] See the particulars in _Hunt's Hist. of Newspapers_, vol. i. pp.
281-4. Mr. Hunt says, p. 284: 'In addition to all these laws,
directed solely towards the press, other statutes were made to
bear upon it, for the purpose of repressing the free expression
of popular opinion.' In 1793, Dr. Currie writes: 'The
prosecutions that are commenced by government all over England
against printers, publishers, &c. would astonish you; and most of
these are for offences committed many months ago. The printer of
the _Manchester Herald_ has had seven different indictments
preferred against him for paragraphs in his paper; and six
_different_ indictments for selling or disposing of six different
copies of Paine,--all previous to the _trial_ of Paine. The man
was opulent, supposed worth 20,000_l._; but these different
actions will ruin him, as they were intended to do.' _Currie's
Life_, vol. i. pp. 185, 186. See also a letter from Roscoe to
Lord Lansdowne, in _Life of Roscoe_, vol. i. p. 124; and _Mem. of
Holcroft_, vol. ii. pp. 151, 152: 'Printers and booksellers all
over the kingdom were hunted out for prosecution.' See further,
_Life of Cartwright_, vol. i. pp. 199, 200; _Adolphus's Hist. of
George III._ vol. v. pp. 525, 526; _Mem. of Wakefield_, vol. ii.
p. 69.
[932] In 1793, Dr. Currie, after mentioning the attempts made by
government to destroy the liberty of the press, adds: 'For my
part, I foresee troubles, and conceive the nation was never in
such a dangerous crisis.' _Currie's Mem._ vol. i. p. 186. In
1795, Fox writes (_Russell's Mem. of Fox_, vol. iii. pp. 124,
125): 'There appears to me to be no choice at present, but
between an absolute surrender of the liberties of the people and
a vigorous exertion, attended, I admit, with considerable hazard,
at a time like the present. My view of things is, I own, very
gloomy; and I am convinced that, in a very few years, this
government will become completely absolute, or that confusion
will arise of a nature almost as much to be deprecated as
despotism itself.' In the same year, Dr. Raine writes (_Parr's
Works_, vol. vii. p. 533): 'The mischievous conduct of men in
power has long made this country an uneasy dwelling for the
moderate and peaceful man; their present proceedings render our
situation alarming, and our prospects dreadful.' See also p. 530.
In 1796, the Bishop of Llandaff writes (_Life of Watson_, vol.
ii. pp. 36, 37): 'The malady which attacks the constitution
(influence of the crown) is without remedy; violent applications
might be used; their success would be doubtful, and I, for one,
never wish to see them tried.' Compare vol. i. p. 222. And, in
1799, Priestley dreaded a revolution; but, at the same time,
thought there was 'no longer any hope of a peaceable and gradual
reform.' _Mem. of Priestley_, vol. i. pp. 198, 199.
[933] In this memorable declaration, Fox said, that 'he had a right to
hope and expect that these bills, which positively repealed the
Bill of Rights, and cut up the whole of the constitution by the
roots, by changing our limited monarchy into an absolute
despotism, would not be enacted by parliament against the
declared sense of a great majority of the people. If, however,
ministers were determined, by means of the corrupt influence they
possessed in the two houses of parliament, to pass the bills in
direct opposition to the declared sense of a great majority of
the nation, and they should be put in force with all their
rigorous provisions, if his opinion were asked by the people as
to their obedience, he should tell them, that it was no longer a
question of moral obligation and duty, but of prudence. It would,
indeed, be a case of extremity alone which could justify
resistance; and the only question would be, whether that
resistance was prudent.' _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxxii. p. 383. On
this, Windham remarked, and Fox did not deny, that 'the meaning
obviously was, that the right hon. gentleman would advise the
people, whenever they were strong enough, to resist the execution
of the law;' and to this both Sheridan and Grey immediately
assented, pp. 385-387.
Nothing, however, could stop the government in its headlong career. The
ministers, secure of a majority in both houses of parliament, were able
to carry their measures in defiance of the people, who opposed them by
every mode short of actual violence.[934] And as the object of these new
laws was, to check the spirit of inquiry, and prevent reforms, which
the progress of society rendered indispensable, there were also brought
into play other means subservient to the same end. It is no exaggeration
to say, that for some years England was ruled by a system of absolute
terror.[935] The ministers of the day, turning a struggle of party into
a war of proscription, filled the prisons with their political
opponents, and allowed them, when in confinement, to be treated with
shameful severity.[936] If a man was known to be a reformer, he was
constantly in danger of being arrested; and if he escaped that, he was
watched at every turn, and his private letters were opened as they
passed through the post-office.[937] In such cases, no scruples were
allowed. Even the confidence of domestic life was violated. No opponent
of government was safe under his own roof, against the tales of
eavesdroppers and the gossip of servants. Discord was introduced into
the bosom of families, and schisms caused between parents and their
children.[938] Not only were the most strenuous attempts made to
silence the press, but the booksellers were so constantly prosecuted
that they did not dare to publish a work if its author were obnoxious to
the court.[939] Indeed, whoever opposed the government was proclaimed an
enemy to his country.[940] Political associations and public meetings
were strictly forbidden. Every popular leader was in personal danger;
and every popular assemblage was dispersed, either by threats or by
military execution. That hateful machinery, familiar to the worst days
of the seventeenth century, was put into motion. Spies were paid;
witnesses were suborned; juries were packed.[941] The coffee-houses, the
inns, and the clubs, were filled with emissaries of the government, who
reported the most hasty expressions of common conversation.[942] If, by
these means, no sort of evidence could be collected, there was another
resource, which was unsparingly used. For, the habeas-corpus act being
constantly suspended, the crown had the power of imprisoning without
inquiry, and without limitation, any person offensive to the ministry,
but of whose crime no proof was attempted to be brought.[943]
[934] 'Never had there appeared, in the memory of the oldest man, so
firm and decided a plurality of adversaries to the ministerial
measures, as on this occasion (_i.e._ in 1795): the interest of
the public seemed so deeply at stake, that individuals, not only
of the decent, but of the most vulgar professions, gave up a
considerable portion of their time and occupations in attending
the numerous meetings that were called in every part of the
kingdom, to the professed intent of counteracting this attempt of
the ministry.' _Note in Parl. History_, vol. xxxii. p. 381. It
was at this period that Fox made the declaration which I have
quoted in the previous note.
[935] It was called at the time the 'Reign of Terror;' and so indeed it
was for every opponent of government. See _Campbell's
Chancellors_, vol. vi. p. 441; _Mem. of Wakefield_, vol. ii. p.
67; and _Trotter's Mem. of Fox_, p. 10.
[936] 'The iniquitous system of secret imprisonment, under which Pitt
and Dundas had now filled all the gaols with parliamentary
reformers; men who were cast into dungeons without any public
accusation, and from whom the habeas-corpus suspension act had
taken every hope of redress.' _Cooke's Hist. of Party_, vol. iii.
p. 447. On the cruelty with which these political opponents of
government were treated when in prison, see _Stephens's Mem. of
Tooke_, vol. ii. pp. 121, 125, 423; _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxxiv.
pp. 112, 113, 126, 129, 170, 515, vol. xxxv. pp. 742, 743;
_Cloncurry's Recollections_, pp. 46, 86, 87, 140, 225.
[937] _Life of Currie_, vol. ii. p. 160; _Stephens's Mem. of Tooke_,
vol. ii. pp. 118, 119.
[938] In 1793, Roscoe writes: 'Every man is called on to be a spy upon
his brother.' _Life of Roscoe_, vol. i. p. 127. Compare Fox's
statement (_Parl. Hist._ vol. xxx. p. 21), that what government
had done was, 'to erect every man, not merely into an inquisitor,
but into a judge, a spy, an informer,--to set father against
father, brother against brother; and in this way you expect to
maintain the tranquillity of the country.' See also vol. xxx. p.
1529; and a remarkable passage, in _Coleridge's Biog. Lit._ (vol.
i. p. 192), on the extent of 'secret defamation,' in and after
1793. For further evidence of this horrible state of society, see
_Mem. of Holcroft_, vol. ii. pp. 150, 151; _Stephens's Mem. of
Horne Tooke_, vol. ii. pp. 115, 116.
[939] There was even considerable difficulty in finding a printer for
Tooke's great philological work, _The Diversions of Purley_. See
_Stephens's Mem. of Tooke_, vol. ii. pp. 345-348. In 1798, Fox
wrote to Cartwright (_Life of Cartwright_, vol. i. p. 248): 'The
decision against Wakefield's publisher appears to me decisive
against the liberty of the press; and, indeed, after it, one can
hardly conceive how any prudent tradesman can venture to publish
anything that can, in any way, be disagreeable to the ministers.'
[940] Those who opposed the slave-trade were called jacobins, and
'enemies to the ministers;' and the celebrated Dr. Currie was
pronounced to be a jacobin, and an 'enemy to his country,'
because he remonstrated against the shameful manner in which the
English government, in 1800, allowed the French prisoners to be
treated. _Life of Currie_, vol. i. pp. 330, 332; _Life of
Wilberforce_, vol. i. pp. 342-344, vol. ii. pp. 18, 133; _Parl.
Hist._ vol. xxx. p. 654, vol. xxxi. p. 467, vol. xxxiii. p. 1387,
vol. xxxiv. pp. 1119, 1485.
[941] _Life of Cartwright_, vol. i. p. 209; _Hunt's Hist. of
Newspapers_, vol. ii. p. 104; _Belsham's Hist._ vol. ix. p. 227;
_Adolphus's Hist._ vol. vi. p. 264; _Annual Register for 1795_,
pp. 156, 160; _Stephens's Mem. of Tooke_, vol. ii. p. 118; _Life
of Currie_, vol. i. p. 172; _Campbell's Chancellors_, vol. vi. p.
316, vol. vii. p. 316; _Life of Wilberforce_, vol. iv. pp. 369,
377; _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxxi. pp. 543, 667, 668, 1067, vol.
xxxii. pp. 296, 302, 366, 367, 374, 664, vol. xxxv. pp. 1538,
1540; _Holcroft's Memoirs_, vol. ii. p. 190.
[942] In addition to the passages referred to in the preceding
note; compare _Hutton's Life of Himself_, p. 209, with
_Campbell's Chancellors_, vol. vi. p. 441, vol. vii. p. 104, and
_Adolphus's Hist. of George III._ vol. vi. p. 45. In 1798,
Caldwell wrote to Sir James Smith (_Correspondence of Sir J. E.
Smith_, vol. ii. p. 143): 'The power of the crown is become
irresistible. The new scheme of inquisition into every man's
private circumstances is beyond any attempt I have ever heard of
under Louis XIV.'
[943] In 1794, Fox said, in his speech on the habeas-corpus suspension
bill: 'Every man who talked freely, every man who detested, as he
did from his heart, this war, might be, and would be, in the
hands and at the mercy of ministers. Living under such a
government, and being subject to insurrection, comparing the two
evils, he confessed, he thought the evil they were pretending to
remedy, was less than the one they were going to inflict by the
remedy itself.' _Parl. Hist._ vol. xxxi. p. 509. In 1800, Lord
Holland stated, in the House of Lords, that, of 'the seven years
of the war, the habeas-corpus act had been suspended five; and,
of the multitudes who had been imprisoned in virtue of that
suspension, few had been brought to trial, and only one
convicted.' vol. xxxiv. pp. 1486. See also vol. xxxv. pp. 609,
610. On the effect of the suspension of the habeas-corpus act
upon literature, see _Life of Currie_, vol. i. p. 506.
Such was the way in which, at the end of the eighteenth century, the
rulers of England, under pretence of protecting the institutions of the
country, oppressed the people, for whose benefit alone those
institutions ought to exist. Nor was even this the whole of the injury
they actually inflicted. Their attempts to stop the progress of opinions
were intimately connected with that monstrous system of foreign policy,
by which there has been entailed upon us a debt of unexampled magnitude.
To pay the interest of this, and to meet the current expenses of a
profuse and reckless administration, taxes were laid upon nearly every
product of industry and of nature. In the vast majority of cases, these
taxes fell upon the great body of the people,[944] who were thus placed
in a position of singular hardship For the upper classes not only
refused to the rest of the nation the reforms which were urgently
required, but compelled the country to pay for the precautions which, in
consequence of the refusal, it was thought necessary to take. Thus it
was that the government diminished the liberties of the people, and
wasted the fruit of their industry, in order to protect that very people
against opinions which the growth of their knowledge had irresistibly
forced upon them.
[944] See decisive evidence of this, in _Porter's Progress of the
Nation_, vol. ii. pp. 283-285; and, on the enormous increase of
expense and taxation, see _Pellew's Life of Sidmouth_, vol. i. p.
358, vol. ii. p. 47.
It is not surprising that, in the face of these circumstances, some of
the ablest observers should have despaired of the liberties of England,
and should have believed that, in the course of a few years, a despotic
government would be firmly established. Even we, who, looking at these
things half a century after they occurred, are able to take a calmer
view, and who moreover possess the advantages of a larger knowledge, and
a riper experience, must nevertheless allow that, so far as political
events were concerned, the danger was more imminent than at any moment
since the reign of Charles I. But what was forgotten then, and what is
too often forgotten now, is, that political events form only one of the
many parts which compose the history of a great country. In the period
we have been considering, the political movement was, no doubt, more
threatening than it had been for several generations. On the other hand,
the intellectual movement was, as we have seen, highly favourable, and
its influence was rapidly spreading. Hence it was that, while the
government of the country tended in one direction, the knowledge of the
country tended in another; and while political events kept us back,
intellectual events urged us forward. In this way, the despotic
principles that were enforced were, in some degree, neutralized; and
although it was impossible to prevent them from causing great suffering,
still the effect of that suffering was to increase the determination of
the people to reform a system under which such evils could be inflicted.
For while they felt the evils, the knowledge which they had obtained
made them see the remedy. They saw that the men who were at the head of
affairs were despotic; but they saw, too, that the system must be
wrong, which could secure to such men such authority. This confirmed
their dissatisfaction, and justified their resolution to effect some
fresh arrangement, which should allow their voices to be heard in the
councils of the state.[945] And that resolution, I need hardly add, grew
stronger and stronger, until it eventually produced those great
legislative reforms which have already signalized the present century,
have given a new tone to the character of public men, and changed the
structure of the English parliament.
[945] A careful observer of what was going on late in the eighteenth
century, expresses what, early in the nineteenth century, was
becoming the conviction of most men of plain, sound
understanding, who had no interest in the existing corruption:
'Immoderate taxation, the result of the unnecessary wars of the
reign of George III., is the cause of our embarrassments; and
that immoderate taxation has been occasioned by the House of
Commons being composed of men not interested to protect the
property of the people.'--_Nicholl's Recollections_, vol. i.
p. 213.
It is thus that, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, the
increase and diffusion of knowledge were in England, directly
antagonistic to the political events which occurred during the same
period. The extent and the nature of that antagonism I have endeavoured
to explain, as clearly as the complexity of the subject, and the limits
of this Introduction, enable me to do. We have seen that, looking at our
country as a whole, the obvious tendency of affairs was to abridge the
authority of the church, the nobles, and the crown, and thus give
greater play to the power of the people. Looking, however, at the
country, not as a whole, but looking merely at its political history, we
find that the personal peculiarities of George III., and the
circumstances under which he came to the throne, enabled him to stop the
great progress, and eventually cause a dangerous reaction. Happily for
the fortunes of England, those principles of liberty which he and his
supporters wished to destroy, had before his reign become so powerful,
and so widely diffused, that they not only resisted this political
reaction, but seemed to gain fresh strength from the contest. That the
struggle was arduous, and at one time extremely critical, it is
impossible to deny. Such, however, is the force of liberal opinions,
when they have once taken root in the popular mind, that notwithstanding
the ordeal to which they were exposed, and notwithstanding the
punishments inflicted on their advocates, it was found impossible to
stifle them; it was found impossible even to prevent their increase.
Doctrines subversive of every principle of freedom were personally
favoured by the sovereign, openly avowed by the government, and
zealously defended by the most powerful classes; and laws in accordance
with these doctrines were placed on our statute-book, and enforced in
our courts. All, however, was in vain. In a few years that generation
began to pass away; a better one succeeded in its place; and the system
of tyranny fell to the ground. And thus it is, that in all countries
which are even tolerably free, every system must fall if it opposes the
march of opinions, and gives shelter to maxims and institutions
repugnant to the spirit of the age. In this sort of contest, the
ultimate result is never doubtful. For the vigour of an arbitrary
government depends merely on a few individuals, who, whatever their
abilities may be, are liable, after their death, to be replaced by timid
and incompetent successors. But the vigour of public opinion is not
exposed to these casualties; it is unaffected by the laws of mortality;
it does not flourish to-day and decline to-morrow; and so far from
depending on the lives of individual men, it is governed by large
general causes, which, from their very comprehensiveness, are in short
periods scarcely seen, but on a comparison of long periods, are found to
outweigh all other considerations, and reduce to insignificance those
little stratagems by which princes and statesmen think to disturb the
order of events, and mould to their will the destinies of a great and
civilized people.
These are broad and general truths, which will hardly be questioned by
any man who, with a competent knowledge of history, has reflected much
on the nature and conditions of modern society. But during the period we
have been considering, they were utterly neglected by our political
rulers, who not only thought themselves able to check the growth of
opinions, but entirely mistook the very end and object of government. In
those days, it was believed that government is made for the minority, to
whose wishes the majority are bound humbly to submit. It was believed
that the power of making laws must always be lodged in the hands of a
few privileged classes; that the nation at large has no concern with
those laws, except to obey them;[946] and that it is the duty of a wise
government to secure the obedience of the people by preventing them from
being enlightened by the spread of knowledge.[947] We may surely deem it
a remarkable circumstance, that these notions, and the schemes of
legislation founded upon them, should, within half a century, have died
away so completely, that they are no longer advocated, even by men of
the most ordinary abilities. What is still more remarkable is, that this
great change should have been effected, not by any external event, nor
by a sudden insurrection of the people, but by the unaided action of
moral force,--the silent, though overwhelming pressure of public
opinion. This has always seemed to me a decisive proof of the natural,
and, if I may so say, the healthy march of English civilization. It is a
proof of an elasticity, and yet a sobriety of spirit, such as no other
nation has ever displayed. No other nation could have escaped from such
a crisis, except by passing through a revolution, of which the cost
might well have exceeded the gain. The truth, however, is, that in
England the course of affairs, which I have endeavoured to trace since
the sixteenth century, had diffused among the people a knowledge of
their own resources, and a skill and independence in the use of them,
imperfect, indeed, but still far superior to that possessed by any other
of the great European countries. Besides this, other circumstances,
which will be hereafter related,[948] had, so early as the eleventh
century, begun to affect our national character, and had assisted in
imparting to it that sturdy boldness, and, at the same time, those
habits of foresight, and of cautious reserve, to which the English mind
owes its leading peculiarities. With us, therefore, the love of liberty
has been tempered by a spirit of prudence, which has softened its
violence, without impairing its strength. It is this which, more than
once, has taught our countrymen to bear even considerable oppression
rather than run the risk of rising against their oppressors. It has
taught them to stay their hands; it has taught them to husband their
force until they can use it with irresistible effect. To this great and
valuable habit we owe the safety of England late in the eighteenth
century. If the people had risen, they would have staked their all; and
what the result of that desperate game would have been, no man can say.
Happily for them, and for their posterity, they were content to wait yet
a little; they were willing to bide their time, and watch the issue of
things. Of this noble conduct their descendants reap the reward. After
the lapse of a few years, the political crisis began to subside, and the
people re-entered on their former rights. For although their rights had
been in abeyance, they were not destroyed, simply because the spirit
still existed by which they were originally won. Nor can any one doubt
that, if those evil days had been prolonged, that same spirit which had
animated their fathers in the reign of Charles I. would have again
broken forth, and society have been convulsed by a revolution, the bare
idea of which is frightful to contemplate. In the mean time, all this
was avoided; and although popular tumults did arise in different parts
of the country, and although the measures of government caused a
disaffection of the most serious kind,[949] still the people, taken as a
whole, remained firm, and patiently reserved their force till a better
time, when, for their benefit, a new party was organized in the state,
by whom their interests were successfully advocated even within the
walls of parliament.
[946] Bishop Horsley, the great champion of the existing state of
things, said in the House of Lords, in 1795, that he 'did not
know what the mass of the people in any country had to do with
the laws, but to obey them.' _Cooke's Hist. of Party_, vol. iii.
p. 435. Compare _Godwin on Population_, p. 569.
[947] Lord Cockburn (_Life of Jeffrey_, 1852, vol. i. pp. 67, 68) says:
'If there was any principle that was reverenced as indisputable
by almost the whole adherents of the party in power sixty, or
even fifty, or perhaps even forty years ago, it was that the
ignorance of the people was necessary for their obedience to the
law.' One argument was, 'that to extend instruction, would be to
multiply the crime of forgery!' _Porter's Progress of the
Nation_, vol. iii. p. 205.
[948] See chapters ix. and x., on the history of the protective spirit.
[949] Sir A. Alison notices in his _History_, (vol. iv. p. 213) 'how
widely the spirit of discontent was diffused' in 1796; and the
only wonder is, that the people were able to keep it in bounds.
That, however, is a question which writers of his stamp never
consider.
This great and salutary reaction began early in the present century; but
the circumstances which accompanied it are so extremely complicated, and
have been so little studied, that I cannot pretend in this Introduction
to offer even a sketch of them. It is sufficient to say, what must be
generally known, that for nearly fifty years the movement has continued
with unabated speed. Everything which has been done, has increased the
influence of the people. Blow after blow has been directed against those
classes which were once the sole depositaries of power. The Reform Bill,
the Emancipation of the Catholics, and the Repeal of the Corn-laws, are
admitted to be the three greatest political achievements of the present
generation. Each of these vast measures has depressed a powerful party.
The extension of the suffrage has lessened the influence of hereditary
rank, and has broken up that great oligarchy of landowners, by which the
House of Commons had long been ruled. The abolition of Protection has
still further enfeebled the territorial aristocracy; while those
superstitious feelings by which the ecclesiastical order is mainly
upheld, received a severe shock, first by the repeal of the Test and
Corporation Acts, and afterwards by the admission of Catholics into the
legislature; steps which are with reason regarded as supplying
precedents of mischievous import for the interests of the Established
Church.[950] These measures, and others which are now obviously
inevitable, have taken, and will continue to take, power from particular
sections of society, in order to confer it upon the people at large.
Indeed, the rapid progress of democratic opinions is a fact which no one
in the present day ventures to deny. Timid and ignorant men are alarmed
at the movement; but that there is such a movement is notorious to all
the world. No one now dares to talk of bridling the people, or of
resisting their united wishes. The utmost that is said is, that efforts
should be made to inform them as to their real interests, and enlighten
public opinion; but every one allows that, so soon as public opinion is
formed, it can no longer be withstood. On this point all are agreed; and
this new power, which is gradually superseding every other, is now
obeyed by those very statesmen who, had they lived sixty years ago,
would have been the first to deny its authority, ridicule its
pretensions, and, if possible, extinguish its liberty.
[950] Bishop Burgess, in a letter to Lord Melbourne, bitterly complained
that Catholic emancipation was 'the extinction of the purely
Protestant character of the British legislature.' _Harford's Life
of Burgess_, p. 506: see also pp. 238, 239, 369, 370. There can
be no doubt that the bishop rightly estimated the danger to his
own party; and as to the Corporation and Test Acts, which, says
another bishop (_Tomline's Life of Pitt_, vol. ii. p. 604), 'were
justly regarded as the firmest bulwarks of the British
constitution,' the feeling was so strong, that at an episcopal
meeting in 1787, there were only two members who were willing to
repeal these persecuting laws. See _Bishop Watson's Life of
Himself_, vol. i. p. 262. Lord Eldon, who to the last stood up
for the church, pronounced the bill for repealing these acts to
be a 'revolutionary bill.' _Twiss's Life of Eldon_, vol. ii.
p. 202.
Such is the great gap which separates the public men of our time from
those who nourished under that bad system which George III. sought to
perpetuate. And it is evident, that this vast progress was brought about
rather by destroying the system, than by improving the men. It is also
evident, that the system perished because it was unsuited to the age;
in other words, because a progressive people will never tolerate an
unprogressive government. But it is a mere matter of history, that our
legislators, even to the last moment, were so terrified by the idea of
innovation, that they refused every reform until the voice of the people
rose high enough to awe them into submission, and forced them to grant
what, without such pressure, they would by no means have conceded.
These things ought to serve as a lesson to our political rulers. They
ought also to moderate the presumption of legislators, and teach them
that their best measures are but temporary expedients, which it will be
the business of a later and riper age to efface. It would be well if
such considerations were to check the confidence, and silence the
loquacity, of those superficial men, who, raised to temporary power,
think themselves bound to guarantee certain institutions, and uphold
certain opinions. They ought clearly to understand, that it does not lie
within their function thus to anticipate the march of affairs, and
provide for distant contingencies. In trifling matters, indeed, this may
be done without danger; though, as the constant changes in the laws of
every country abundantly prove, it is also done without benefit. But in
reference to those large and fundamental measures which bear upon the
destiny of a people, such anticipation is worse than useless,--it is
highly injurious. In the present state of knowledge, politics, so far
from being a science, is one of the most backward of all the arts; and
the only safe course for the legislator is, to look upon his craft as
consisting in the adaptation of temporary contrivances to temporary
emergencies.[951] His business is to follow the age, and not at all to
attempt to lead it. He should be satisfied with studying what is passing
around him; and should modify his schemes, not according to the notions
he has inherited from his fathers, but according to the actual
exigencies of his own time. For he may rely upon it, that the movements
of society have now become so rapid, that the wants of one generation
are no measure of the wants of another; and that men, urged by a sense
of their own progress, are growing weary of idle talk about the wisdom
of their ancestors, and are fast discarding those trite and sleepy
maxims which have hitherto imposed upon them, but by which they will not
consent to be much longer troubled.
[951] Sir C. Lewis, though in his learned work he over-estimates the
resources possessed by politicians, does nevertheless allow that
they are rarely able to anticipate the manner in which their
measures will work. _Lewis on the Methods of Observation and
Reasoning in Politics_, 1852, vol. ii. pp. 360-362. A writer of
repute, M. Flassan, says (_Hist. de la Diplomatie_, vol. i. p.
19): 'On doit être très-indulgent sur les erreurs de la
politique, à cause de la facilité qu'il y a à en commettre,
erreurs auxquelles la sagesse même quelquefois entraîne.' The
first part of this sentence is true enough; but it conveys a
truth which ought to repress that love of interfering with the
natural march of affairs which still characterizes politicians,
even in the freest countries.
* * * * *
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
Transcriber's Notes:
The original spelling and minor inconsistencies in the spelling and
formatting have been maintained.
Inconsistent hyphenation and accents are as in the original if not marked
as a misprint.
Text in italics has been marked with underscores (_text_).
The ligature oe has been marked as [oe].
The sign ^ has been used as a superscript.
The table below lists all corrections applied to the original text.
p. v: -5 -> 4-5
p. vi: 154-156 -> 152-156
p. xi: the authorship -> the authorship.
p. xvii: his Life, written by Himself. -> himself.
p. xix: edit. Meibomius. Amstel. -> Amstel,
p. xxi: Diplomatie Erançaise -> Française
p. xxi: London, 1818. 2 vols -> vols.
p. xxviii: A Journey though -> through
p. xxxvi: of 1569. London, 1840 -> 1840.
p. xxxviii: Literature. London, 1849 -> 1849.
p. xli: The Journals of. London -> The Journals of London
p. xlii: Camd. Soc. 1848 4to -> 1848. 4to.
p. 10: lib. ii. segm. 16, vol -> vol.
p. 22: not always absolutely, -> absolutely.
p. 40: vol. vi. p. 136. -> 136,
p. 54: with the greater rapidity. -> rapidity.'
p. 57: one and a half per cent. -> cent
p. 60: Carus' Comparative Anatomy -> Carus's
p. 64: when it is over-supplied -> over-supplied.
p. 64: 'Cabanis -> 'Cabanis'
p. 64: _Burckhardt's Travels in Arabia_ -> _Arabia_,
p. 64: Déscrition -> Description
p. 64: Ulloa' -> Ulloa's
p. 64: vol. i. pp. 379, 380, 460,; -> 460;
p. 66: Phillip's on Scrofula -> Phillips
p. 69: So too, in North America -> So, too, in North America
p. 70: Theatre of the Indus -> Hindus
p. 72: Craufurd's History -> Crawfurd's History
p. 72: _Journal of Geograph. Society_, vol -> vol.
p. 72: l'AmériqueMéridionale -> l'Amérique Méridionale
p. 80: he be divested? -> divested?'
p. 84: 170, 213; _Bowditch_ -> _Bowdich_
p. 94: throughout, the laying -> 'throughout
p. 97: in nearly 9° north. -> north.'
p. 97: p.113. -> p. 113.
p. 103: vol. ii. p. 113, -> vol. ii. p. 113;
p. 108: was 21°,on the -> was 21°, on the
p. 109: of elevation. -> elevation.'
p. 111: l.'_Humboldt_ -> l'_Humboldt_
p. 113: belonged to the people. -> people.'
p. 119: natural progress -> natural progress.
p. 122: _Brit. Assoc. for_ 1850, p. 68; -> p. 68);
p. 123: comme Science d' Observation -> d'Observation
p. 126: they apprehend danger. -> danger.'
p. 126: Garrows or Garrudus. -> Garrudus.'
p. 130: vol. i. p. 41; -> 41,
p. 130: _Phillips on Scrofula_, p. 255: -> 255;
p. 133: _Religiöse Bildung der Hindus_, vol -> vol.
p. 135: _Asiatic Researches_ -> _Asiatic Researches_.
p. 137: Speculationen über Zahlen -> 'Speculationen
p. 143: Müller's Hist -> Müller's Hist.
p. 147: Stephen's Central America -> Stephens's
p. 148: _Béclard_. -> _Béclard_,
p. 150: The views of Liebeg -> Liebig
p. 158: can be raised -> can be raised.
p. 158: _Locke's Works_, vol. i, -> vol. i.
p. 164: generalized _solely_ from from the -> _solely_ from the
p. 167: ich mir noch and ere -> andere
p. 170: _Asiatic Researches_, vol. iii, -> vol. iii.
p. 171: promises the metphysicians -> metaphysicians
p. 177: Geoffroy Saint Hilaire -> Saint-Hilaire
p. 177: _Hist. de la Médecine_, vol. i. p. 380; -> p. 380,
p. 183: vol. ii. p. 304 -> 304.
p. 193: Ideen zur Gesckichte -> Ideen zur Geschichte
p. 197: l'intelligence, la seule q'uon -> qu'on
p. 205: and a dagger -> dagger.
p. 207: sur ce sujet. -> sujet.'
p. 208: became clearly recognied -> recognized
p. 211: balancing of trade. -> trade.'
p. 212: _Mill's History of India_, vol -> vol.
p. 215: pp. 834, 905 -> 905,
p. 249: Nichol's Literary Illustrations -> Nichols's
p. 256: le plus éclairé. -> éclairé.'
p. 267: _Geschichte der Philosophie_, vol. ii, -> vol. ii.
p. 293: vol. iii. pp. 383. -> 383,
p. 294: [OE]uvresde -> [OE]uvres de
p. 295: Poetry, 1840 -> 1840,
p. 302: have for upwards of 2000 years -> 2,000 years
p. 302: extending back 3000 years -> 3,000 years
p. 304: from Madagascar to within 2000 miles -> 2,000 miles
p. 304: in Polynesia Proper -> proper
p. 310: Troyens, par Pàris -> Paris
p. 314: vol. ii. p. 389 -> 389.
p. 315: prædicatorem,' p. 360 -> 360.
p. 325: progress was unmistakeable -> unmistakable
p. 330: of mathematics at Tubingen -> Tübingen
p. 332: _Biog. Univ._ -> _Biog. Univ._,
p. 342: 'Quodque in illis -> Quodque in illis
p. 358: pp. 572, 577 -> 577.
p. 375: _Richardson's Travels in the Sahara_, vol. i. p 11 -> p. 11
p. 378: Cudworth's Intellect -> Intellect.
p. 379: affected by uncontrolable -> uncontrollable
p. 389: In another place, vol -> vol.
p. 392: Chalmers' Biographical -> Chalmers's
p. 393: Chalmers' Biog. -> Chalmers's Biog.
p. 397: vol. ii. pp. 52. -> 52,
p. 400: De Foe (_Wilson's -> De Foe _Wilson's
p. 404: September 1688 (_Ellis_ -> _Ellis_,
p. 409: _Parl. Hist._ vol. v -> vol. v.
p. 411: vol. ii. pp. 640. -> p. 640.
p. 412: 72 Calamy -> 172 Calamy
p. 423: Southey's Wesley, pp -> pp.
p. 425: Whateley's Dangers -> Whately's
p. 426: Hist.of Moral -> Hist. of Moral
p. 429: eighteenth century. Proviously -> Previously
p. 434: vol. ii. p. 29), it become -> became
p. 437: with plenty of 'parentheses'! -> 'parentheses!'
p. 442: such efforts to instil -> instill
p. 445: _Mahon's Hist. of England_, vol. v -> vol. v.
p. 447: So too Lord Campbell -> So, too, Lord Campbell
p. 449: rectitude of their hearts. -> hearts.'
p. 451: Dutens' Mémoires -> Dutens's
p. 453: So too Sheridan -> So, too, Sheridan
p. 465: the very sound of them. -> them.'
p. 467: vol. i. pp. 43. -> 43,
p. 468: _Buckingham's Mem. of George III._ 1853. -> 1853,
p. 474: the united sovereigns -> 'the united sovereigns
p. 475: a _long_ war. -> war.'
p. 477: _Bisset's Life of Burke_, vol -> vol.
p. 480: 'Without stopping to relate -> Without stopping to relate
p. 481: vol. i. p. 352, -> vol. i. p. 352;
p. 481: says 139,171,876_l_ -> 139,171,876_l._
p. 487: Stephen's Mem. of -> Stephens's
p. 493: immediately assented, p. 385-387. -> pp. 385-387.
p. 494: _Stephens's Mem. of Tooke_, vol -> vol.
p. 494: Compare Fox's statment -> statement
p. 494: to erect every man,not -> man, not
p. 494: Mem. of Horne Tooke -> Mem. of Horne Tooke,
p. 496: See also vol. xxxv. p. 609, 610. -> pp. 609, 610.