It is an undertaking of some degree of delicacy to examine into the cause
of public disorders. If a man happens not to succeed in such an inquiry,
he will be thought weak and visionary; if he touches the true grievance,
there is a danger that he may come near to persons of weight and
consequence, who will rather be exasperated at the discovery of their
errors than thankful for the occasion of correcting them. If he should
be obliged to blame the favourites of the people, he will be considered
as the tool of power; if he censures those in power, he will be looked on
as an instrument of faction. But in all exertions of duty something is
to be hazarded. In cases of tumult and disorder, our law has invested
every man, in some sort, with the authority of a magistrate. When the
affairs of the nation are distracted, private people are, by the spirit
of that law, justified in stepping a little out of their ordinary sphere.
They enjoy a privilege of somewhat more dignity and effect than that of
idle lamentation over the calamities of their country. They may look
into them narrowly; they may reason upon them liberally; and if they
should be so fortunate as to discover the true source of the mischief,
and to suggest any probable method of removing it, though they may
displease the rulers for the day, they are certainly of service to the
cause of Government. Government is deeply interested in everything
which, even through the medium of some temporary uneasiness, may tend
finally to compose the minds of the subjects, and to conciliate their
affections. I have nothing to do here with the abstract value of the
voice of the people. But as long as reputation, the most precious
possession of every individual, and as long as opinion, the great support
of the State, depend entirely upon that voice, it can never be considered
as a thing of little consequence either to individuals or to Government.
Nations are not primarily ruled by laws; less by violence. Whatever
original energy may be supposed either in force or regulation, the
operation of both is, in truth, merely instrumental. Nations are
governed by the same methods, and on the same principles, by which an
individual without authority is often able to govern those who are his
equals or his superiors, by a knowledge of their temper, and by a
judicious management of it; I mean, when public affairs are steadily and
quietly conducted: not when Government is nothing but a continued scuffle
between the magistrate and the multitude, in which sometimes the one and
sometimes the other is uppermost--in which they alternately yield and
prevail, in a series of contemptible victories and scandalous
submissions. The temper of the people amongst whom he presides ought
therefore to be the first study of a statesman. And the knowledge of
this temper it is by no means impossible for him to attain, if he has not
an interest in being ignorant of what it is his duty to learn.
To complain of the age we live in, to murmur at the present possessors of
power, to lament the past, to conceive extravagant hopes of the future,
are the common dispositions of the greater part of mankind--indeed, the
necessary effects of the ignorance and levity of the vulgar. Such
complaints and humours have existed in all times; yet as all times have
_not_ been alike, true political sagacity manifests itself, in
distinguishing that complaint which only characterises the general
infirmity of human nature from those which are symptoms of the particular
distemperature of our own air and season.
* * * * *
Nobody, I believe, will consider it merely as the language of spleen or
disappointment, if I say that there is something particularly alarming in
the present conjuncture. There is hardly a man, in or out of power, who
holds any other language. That Government is at once dreaded and
contemned; that the laws are despoiled of all their respected and
salutary terrors; that their inaction is a subject of ridicule, and their
exertion of abhorrence; that rank, and office, and title, and all the
solemn plausibilities of the world, have lost their reverence and effect;
that our foreign politics are as much deranged as our domestic economy;
that our dependencies are slackened in their affection, and loosened from
their obedience; that we know neither how to yield nor how to enforce;
that hardly anything above or below, abroad or at home, is sound and
entire; but that disconnection and confusion, in offices, in parties, in
families, in Parliament, in the nation, prevail beyond the disorders of
any former time: these are facts universally admitted and lamented.
This state of things is the more extraordinary, because the great parties
which formerly divided and agitated the kingdom are known to be in a
manner entirely dissolved. No great external calamity has visited the
nation; no pestilence or famine. We do not labour at present under any
scheme of taxation new or oppressive in the quantity or in the mode. Nor
are we engaged in unsuccessful war, in which our misfortunes might easily
pervert our judgment, and our minds, sore from the loss of national
glory, might feel every blow of fortune as a crime in Government.
* * * * *
It is impossible that the cause of this strange distemper should not
sometimes become a subject of discourse. It is a compliment due, and
which I willingly pay, to those who administer our affairs, to take
notice in the first place of their speculation. Our Ministers are of
opinion that the increase of our trade and manufactures, that our growth
by colonisation and by conquest, have concurred to accumulate immense
wealth in the hands of some individuals; and this again being dispersed
amongst the people, has rendered them universally proud, ferocious, and
ungovernable; that the insolence of some from their enormous wealth, and
the boldness of others from a guilty poverty, have rendered them capable
of the most atrocious attempts; so that they have trampled upon all
subordination, and violently borne down the unarmed laws of a free
Government--barriers too feeble against the fury of a populace so fierce
and licentious as ours. They contend that no adequate provocation has
been given for so spreading a discontent, our affairs having been
conducted throughout with remarkable temper and consummate wisdom. The
wicked industry of some libellers, joined to the intrigues of a few
disappointed politicians, have, in their opinion, been able to produce
this unnatural ferment in the nation.
Nothing indeed can be more unnatural than the present convulsions of this
country, if the above account be a true one. I confess I shall assent to
it with great reluctance, and only on the compulsion of the clearest and
firmest proofs; because their account resolves itself into this short but
discouraging proposition, "That we have a very good Ministry, but that we
are a very bad people;" that we set ourselves to bite the hand that feeds
us; that with a malignant insanity we oppose the measures, and
ungratefully vilify the persons, of those whose sole object is our own
peace and prosperity. If a few puny libellers, acting under a knot of
factious politicians, without virtue, parts, or character (such they are
constantly represented by these gentlemen), are sufficient to excite this
disturbance, very perverse must be the disposition of that people amongst
whom such a disturbance can be excited by such means. It is besides no
small aggravation of the public misfortune that the disease, on this
hypothesis, appears to be without remedy. If the wealth of the nation be
the cause of its turbulence, I imagine it is not proposed to introduce
poverty as a constable to keep the peace. If our dominions abroad are
the roots which feed all this rank luxuriance of sedition, it is not
intended to cut them off in order to famish the fruit. If our liberty
has enfeebled the executive power, there is no design, I hope, to call in
the aid of despotism to fill up the deficiencies of law. Whatever may be
intended, these things are not yet professed. We seem therefore to be
driven to absolute despair, for we have no other materials to work upon
but those out of which God has been pleased to form the inhabitants of
this island. If these be radically and essentially vicious, all that can
be said is that those men are very unhappy to whose fortune or duty it
falls to administer the affairs of this untoward people. I hear it
indeed sometimes asserted that a steady perseverance in the present
measures, and a rigorous punishment of those who oppose them, will in
course of time infallibly put an end to these disorders. But this, in my
opinion, is said without much observation of our present disposition, and
without any knowledge at all of the general nature of mankind. If the
matter of which this nation is composed be so very fermentable as these
gentlemen describe it, leaven never will be wanting to work it up, as
long as discontent, revenge, and ambition have existence in the world.
Particular punishments are the cure for accidental distempers in the
State; they inflame rather than allay those heats which arise from the
settled mismanagement of the Government, or from a natural ill
disposition in the people. It is of the utmost moment not to make
mistakes in the use of strong measures, and firmness is then only a
virtue when it accompanies the most perfect wisdom. In truth,
inconstancy is a sort of natural corrective of folly and ignorance.
I am not one of those who think that the people are never in the wrong.
They have been so, frequently and outrageously, both in other countries
and in this. But I do say that in all disputes between them and their
rulers the presumption is at least upon a par in favour of the people.
Experience may perhaps justify me in going further. When popular
discontents have been very prevalent, it may well be affirmed and
supported that there has been generally something found amiss in the
constitution or in the conduct of Government. The people have no
interest in disorder. When they do wrong, it is their error, and not
their crime. But with the governing part of the State it is far
otherwise. They certainly may act ill by design, as well as by mistake.
"Les revolutions qui arrivent dans les grands etats ne sont point un
effect du hasard, ni du caprice des peuples. Rien ne revolte les grands
d'un royaume comme un Gouvernoment foible et derange. Pour la populace,
ce n'est jamais par envie d'attaquer qu'elle se souleve, mais par
impatience de souffrir." These are the words of a great man, of a
Minister of State, and a zealous assertor of Monarchy. They are applied
to the system of favouritism which was adopted by Henry the Third of
France, and to the dreadful consequences it produced. What he says of
revolutions is equally true of all great disturbances. If this
presumption in favour of the subjects against the trustees of power be
not the more probable, I am sure it is the more comfortable speculation,
because it is more easy to change an Administration than to reform a
people.
* * * * *
Upon a supposition, therefore, that, in the opening of the cause, the
presumptions stand equally balanced between the parties, there seems
sufficient ground to entitle any person to a fair hearing who attempts
some other scheme besides that easy one which is fashionable in some
fashionable companies, to account for the present discontents. It is not
to be argued that we endure no grievance, because our grievances are not
of the same sort with those under which we laboured formerly--not
precisely those which we bore from the Tudors, or vindicated on the
Stuarts. A great change has taken place in the affairs of this country.
For in the silent lapse of events as material alterations have been
insensibly brought about in the policy and character of governments and
nations as those which have been marked by the tumult of public
revolutions.
It is very rare indeed for men to be wrong in their feelings concerning
public misconduct; as rare to be right in their speculation upon the
cause of it. I have constantly observed that the generality of people
are fifty years, at least, behindhand in their politics. There are but
very few who are capable of comparing and digesting what passes before
their eyes at different times and occasions, so as to form the whole into
a distinct system. But in books everything is settled for them, without
the exertion of any considerable diligence or sagacity. For which reason
men are wise with but little reflection, and good with little
self-denial, in the business of all times except their own. We are very
uncorrupt and tolerably enlightened judges of the transactions of past
ages; where no passions deceive, and where the whole train of
circumstances, from the trifling cause to the tragical event, is set in
an orderly series before us. Few are the partisans of departed tyranny;
and to be a Whig on the business of a hundred years ago is very
consistent with every advantage of present servility. This retrospective
wisdom and historical patriotism are things of wonderful convenience, and
serve admirably to reconcile the old quarrel between speculation and
practice. Many a stern republican, after gorging himself with a full
feast of admiration of the Grecian commonwealths and of our true Saxon
constitution, and discharging all the splendid bile of his virtuous
indignation on King John and King James, sits down perfectly satisfied to
the coarsest work and homeliest job of the day he lives in. I believe
there was no professed admirer of Henry the Eighth among the instruments
of the last King James; nor in the court of Henry the Eighth was there, I
dare say, to be found a single advocate for the favourites of Richard the
Second.
No complaisance to our Court, or to our age, can make me believe nature
to be so changed but that public liberty will be among us, as among our
ancestors, obnoxious to some person or other, and that opportunities will
be furnished for attempting, at least, some alteration to the prejudice
of our constitution. These attempts will naturally vary in their mode,
according to times and circumstances. For ambition, though it has ever
the same general views, has not at all times the same means, nor the same
particular objects. A great deal of the furniture of ancient tyranny is
worn to rags; the rest is entirely out of fashion. Besides, there are
few statesmen so very clumsy and awkward in their business as to fall
into the identical snare which has proved fatal to their predecessors.
When an arbitrary imposition is attempted upon the subject, undoubtedly
it will not bear on its forehead the name of _Ship-money_. There is no
danger that an extension of the _Forest laws_ should be the chosen mode
of oppression in this age. And when we hear any instance of ministerial
rapacity to the prejudice of the rights of private life, it will
certainly not be the exaction of two hundred pullets, from a woman of
fashion, for leave to lie with her own husband.
Every age has its own manners, and its politics dependent upon them; and
the same attempts will not be made against a constitution fully formed
and matured, that were used to destroy it in the cradle, or to resist its
growth during its infancy.
Against the being of Parliament, I am satisfied, no designs have ever
been entertained since the Revolution. Every one must perceive that it
is strongly the interest of the Court to have some second cause
interposed between the Ministers and the people. The gentlemen of the
House of Commons have an interest equally strong in sustaining the part
of that intermediate cause. However they may hire out the _usufruct_ of
their voices, they never will part with the _fee and inheritance_.
Accordingly those who have been of the most known devotion to the will
and pleasure of a Court, have at the same time been most forward in
asserting a high authority in the House of Commons. When they knew who
were to use that authority, and how it was to be employed, they thought
it never could be carried too far. It must be always the wish of an
unconstitutional statesman, that a House of Commons who are entirely
dependent upon him, should have every right of the people entirely
dependent upon their pleasure. It was soon discovered that the forms of
a free, and the ends of an arbitrary Government, were things not
altogether incompatible.
The power of the Crown, almost dead and rotten as Prerogative, has grown
up anew, with much more strength, and far less odium, under the name of
Influence. An influence which operated without noise and without
violence; an influence which converted the very antagonist into the
instrument of power; which contained in itself a perpetual principle of
growth and renovation; and which the distresses and the prosperity of the
country equally tended to augment, was an admirable substitute for a
prerogative that, being only the offspring of antiquated prejudices, had
moulded in its original stamina irresistible principles of decay and
dissolution. The ignorance of the people is a bottom but for a temporary
system; the interest of active men in the State is a foundation perpetual
and infallible. However, some circumstances, arising, it must be
confessed, in a great degree from accident, prevented the effects of this
influence for a long time from breaking out in a manner capable of
exciting any serious apprehensions. Although Government was strong and
flourished exceedingly, the _Court_ had drawn far less advantage than one
would imagine from this great source of power.
* * * * *
At the Revolution, the Crown, deprived, for the ends of the Revolution
itself, of many prerogatives, was found too weak to struggle against all
the difficulties which pressed so new and unsettled a Government. The
Court was obliged therefore to delegate a part of its powers to men of
such interest as could support, and of such fidelity as would adhere to,
its establishment. Such men were able to draw in a greater number to a
concurrence in the common defence. This connection, necessary at first,
continued long after convenient; and properly conducted might indeed, in
all situations, be a useful instrument of Government. At the same time,
through the intervention of men of popular weight and character, the
people possessed a security for their just proportion of importance in
the State. But as the title to the Crown grew stronger by long
possession, and by the constant increase of its influence, these helps
have of late seemed to certain persons no better than incumbrances. The
powerful managers for Government were not sufficiently submissive to the
pleasure of the possessors of immediate and personal favour, sometimes
from a confidence in their own strength, natural and acquired; sometimes
from a fear of offending their friends, and weakening that lead in the
country, which gave them a consideration independent of the Court. Men
acted as if the Court could receive, as well as confer, an obligation.
The influence of Government, thus divided in appearance between the Court
and the leaders of parties, became in many cases an accession rather to
the popular than to the royal scale; and some part of that influence,
which would otherwise have been possessed as in a sort of mortmain and
unalienable domain, returned again to the great ocean from whence it
arose, and circulated among the people. This method therefore of
governing by men of great natural interest or great acquired
consideration, was viewed in a very invidious light by the true lovers of
absolute monarchy. It is the nature of despotism to abhor power held by
any means but its own momentary pleasure; and to annihilate all
intermediate situations between boundless strength on its own part, and
total debility on the part of the people.
To get rid of all this intermediate and independent importance, and _to
secure to the Court the unlimited and uncontrolled use of its own vast
influence_, _under the sole direction of its own private favour_, has for
some years past been the great object of policy. If this were compassed,
the influence of the Crown must of course produce all the effects which
the most sanguine partisans of the Court could possibly desire.
Government might then be carried on without any concurrence on the part
of the people; without any attention to the dignity of the greater, or to
the affections of the lower sorts. A new project was therefore devised
by a certain set of intriguing men, totally different from the system of
Administration which had prevailed since the accession of the House of
Brunswick. This project, I have heard, was first conceived by some
persons in the Court of Frederick, Prince of Wales.
The earliest attempt in the execution of this design was to set up for
Minister a person, in rank indeed respectable, and very ample in fortune;
but who, to the moment of this vast and sudden elevation, was little
known or considered in the kingdom. To him the whole nation was to yield
an immediate and implicit submission. But whether it was from want of
firmness to bear up against the first opposition, or that things were not
yet fully ripened, or that this method was not found the most eligible,
that idea was soon abandoned. The instrumental part of the project was a
little altered, to accommodate it to the time, and to bring things more
gradually and more surely to the one great end proposed.
The first part of the reformed plan was to draw _a line which should
separate the Court from the Ministry_. Hitherto these names had been
looked upon as synonymous; but, for the future, Court and Administration
were to be considered as things totally distinct. By this operation, two
systems of Administration were to be formed: one which should be in the
real secret and confidence; the other merely ostensible, to perform the
official and executory duties of Government. The latter were alone to be
responsible; whilst the real advisers, who enjoyed all the power, were
effectually removed from all the danger.
Secondly, _a party under these leaders was to be formed in favour of the
Court against the Ministry_: this party was to have a large share in the
emoluments of Government, and to hold it totally separate from, and
independent of, ostensible Administration.
The third point, and that on which the success of the whole scheme
ultimately depended, was _to bring Parliament to an acquiescence in this
project_. Parliament was therefore to be taught by degrees a total
indifference to the persons, rank, influence, abilities, connections, and
character of the Ministers of the Crown. By means of a discipline, on
which I shall say more hereafter, that body was to be habituated to the
most opposite interests, and the most discordant politics. All
connections and dependencies among subjects were to be entirely
dissolved. As hitherto business had gone through the hands of leaders of
Whigs or Tories, men of talents to conciliate the people, and to engage
their confidence, now the method was to be altered; and the lead was to
be given to men of no sort of consideration or credit in the country.
This want of natural importance was to be their very title to delegated
power. Members of parliament were to be hardened into an insensibility
to pride as well as to duty. Those high and haughty sentiments, which
are the great support of independence, were to be let down gradually.
Point of honour and precedence were no more to be regarded in
Parliamentary decorum than in a Turkish army. It was to be avowed, as a
constitutional maxim, that the King might appoint one of his footmen, or
one of your footmen, for Minister; and that he ought to be, and that he
would be, as well followed as the first name for rank or wisdom in the
nation. Thus Parliament was to look on, as if perfectly unconcerned
while a cabal of the closet and back-stairs was substituted in the place
of a national Administration.
With such a degree of acquiescence, any measure of any Court might well
be deemed thoroughly secure. The capital objects, and by much the most
flattering characteristics of arbitrary power, would be obtained.
Everything would be drawn from its holdings in the country to the
personal favour and inclination of the Prince. This favour would be the
sole introduction to power, and the only tenure by which it was to be
held: so that no person looking towards another, and all looking towards
the Court, it was impossible but that the motive which solely influenced
every man's hopes must come in time to govern every man's conduct; till
at last the servility became universal, in spite of the dead letter of
any laws or institutions whatsoever.
How it should happen that any man could be tempted to venture upon such a
project of Government, may at first view appear surprising. But the fact
is that opportunities very inviting to such an attempt have offered; and
the scheme itself was not destitute of some arguments, not wholly
unplausible, to recommend it. These opportunities and these arguments,
the use that has been made of both, the plan for carrying this new scheme
of government into execution, and the effects which it has produced, are
in my opinion worthy of our serious consideration.
His Majesty came to the throne of these kingdoms with more advantages
than any of his predecessors since the Revolution. Fourth in descent,
and third in succession of his Royal family, even the zealots of
hereditary right, in him, saw something to flatter their favourite
prejudices; and to justify a transfer of their attachments, without a
change in their principles. The person and cause of the Pretender were
become contemptible; his title disowned throughout Europe, his party
disbanded in England. His Majesty came indeed to the inheritance of a
mighty war; but, victorious in every part of the globe, peace was always
in his power, not to negotiate, but to dictate. No foreign habitudes or
attachments withdrew him from the cultivation of his power at home. His
revenue for the Civil establishment, fixed (as it was then thought) at a
large, but definite sum, was ample, without being invidious; his
influence, by additions from conquest, by an augmentation of debt, by an
increase of military and naval establishment, much strengthened and
extended. And coming to the throne in the prime and full vigour of
youth, as from affection there was a strong dislike, so from dread there
seemed to be a general averseness from giving anything like offence to a
monarch against whose resentment opposition could not look for a refuge
in any sort of reversionary hope.
These singular advantages inspired his Majesty only with a more ardent
desire to preserve unimpaired the spirit of that national freedom to
which he owed a situation so full of glory. But to others it suggested
sentiments of a very different nature. They thought they now beheld an
opportunity (by a certain sort of statesman never long undiscovered or
unemployed) of drawing to themselves, by the aggrandisement of a Court
faction, a degree of power which they could never hope to derive from
natural influence or from honourable service; and which it was impossible
they could hold with the least security, whilst the system of
Administration rested upon its former bottom. In order to facilitate the
execution of their design, it was necessary to make many alterations in
political arrangement, and a signal change in the opinions, habits, and
connections of the greater part of those who at that time acted in
public.
In the first place, they proceeded gradually, but not slowly, to destroy
everything of strength which did not derive its principal nourishment
from the immediate pleasure of the Court. The greatest weight of popular
opinion and party connection were then with the Duke of Newcastle and Mr.
Pitt. Neither of these held his importance by the _new tenure_ of the
Court; they were not, therefore, thought to be so proper as others for
the services which were required by that tenure. It happened very
favourably for the new system, that under a forced coalition there
rankled an incurable alienation and disgust between the parties which
composed the Administration. Mr. Pitt was first attacked. Not satisfied
with removing him from power, they endeavoured by various artifices to
ruin his character. The other party seemed rather pleased to get rid of
so oppressive a support; not perceiving that their own fall was prepared
by his, and involved in it. Many other reasons prevented them from
daring to look their true situation in the face. To the great Whig
families it was extremely disagreeable, and seemed almost unnatural, to
oppose the Administration of a Prince of the House of Brunswick. Day
after day they hesitated, and doubted, and lingered, expecting that other
counsels would take place; and were slow to be persuaded that all which
had been done by the Cabal was the effect, not of humour, but of system.
It was more strongly and evidently the interest of the new Court faction
to get rid of the great Whig connections than to destroy Mr. Pitt. The
power of that gentleman was vast indeed, and merited; but it was in a
great degree personal, and therefore transient. Theirs was rooted in the
country. For, with a good deal less of popularity, they possessed a far
more natural and fixed influence. Long possession of Government; vast
property; obligations of favours given and received; connection of
office; ties of blood, of alliance, of friendship (things at that time
supposed of some force); the name of Whig, dear to the majority of the
people; the zeal early begun and steadily continued to the Royal Family;
all these together formed a body of power in the nation, which was
criminal and devoted. The great ruling principle of the Cabal, and that
which animated and harmonised all their proceedings, how various soever
they may have been, was to signify to the world that the Court would
proceed upon its own proper forces only; and that the pretence of
bringing any other into its service was an affront to it, and not a
support. Therefore when the chiefs were removed, in order to go to the
root, the whole party was put under a proscription, so general and severe
as to take their hard-earned bread from the lowest officers, in a manner
which had never been known before, even in general revolutions. But it
was thought necessary effectually to destroy all dependencies but one,
and to show an example of the firmness and rigour with which the new
system was to be supported.
Thus for the time were pulled down, in the persons of the Whig leaders
and of Mr. Pitt (in spite of the services of the one at the accession of
the Royal Family, and the recent services of the other in the war), the
_two only securities for the importance of the people_: _power arising
from popularity_, _and power arising from connection_. Here and there
indeed a few individuals were left standing, who gave security for their
total estrangement from the odious principles of party connection and
personal attachment; and it must be confessed that most of them have
religiously kept their faith. Such a change could not, however, be made
without a mighty shock to Government.
To reconcile the minds of the people to all these movements, principles
correspondent to them had been preached up with great zeal. Every one
must remember that the Cabal set out with the most astonishing prudery,
both moral and political. Those who in a few months after soused over
head and ears into the deepest and dirtiest pits of corruption, cried out
violently against the indirect practices in the electing and managing of
Parliaments, which had formerly prevailed. This marvellous abhorrence
which the Court had suddenly taken to all influence, was not only
circulated in conversation through the kingdom, but pompously announced
to the public, with many other extraordinary things, in a pamphlet which
had all the appearance of a manifesto preparatory to some considerable
enterprise. Throughout, it was a satire, though in terms managed and
decent enough, on the politics of the former reign. It was indeed
written with no small art and address.
In this piece appeared the first dawning of the new system; there first
appeared the idea (then only in speculation) of _separating the Court
from the Administration_; of carrying everything from national connection
to personal regards; and of forming a regular party for that purpose,
under the name of _King's men_.
To recommend this system to the people, a perspective view of the Court,
gorgeously painted, and finely illuminated from within, was exhibited to
the gaping multitude. Party was to be totally done away, with all its
evil works. Corruption was to be cast down from Court, as _Ate_ was from
heaven. Power was thenceforward to be the chosen residence of public
spirit; and no one was to be supposed under any sinister influence,
except those who had the misfortune to be in disgrace at Court, which was
to stand in lieu of all vices and all corruptions. A scheme of
perfection to be realised in a Monarchy, far beyond the visionary
Republic of Plato. The whole scenery was exactly disposed to captivate
those good souls, whose credulous morality is so invaluable a treasure to
crafty politicians. Indeed, there was wherewithal to charm everybody,
except those few who are not much pleased with professions of
supernatural virtue, who know of what stuff such professions are made,
for what purposes they are designed, and in what they are sure constantly
to end. Many innocent gentlemen, who had been talking prose all their
lives without knowing anything of the matter, began at last to open their
eyes upon their own merits, and to attribute their not having been Lords
of the Treasury and Lords of Trade many years before merely to the
prevalence of party, and to the Ministerial power, which had frustrated
the good intentions of the Court in favour of their abilities. Now was
the time to unlock the sealed fountain of Royal bounty, which had been
infamously monopolised and huckstered, and to let it flow at large upon
the whole people. The time was come to restore Royalty to its original
splendour. _Mettre le Roy hors de page_, became a sort of watchword. And
it was constantly in the mouths of all the runners of the Court, that
nothing could preserve the balance of the constitution from being
overturned by the rabble, or by a faction of the nobility, but to free
the Sovereign effectually from that Ministerial tyranny under which the
Royal dignity had been oppressed in the person of his Majesty's
grandfather.
These were some of the many artifices used to reconcile the people to the
great change which was made in the persons who composed the Ministry, and
the still greater which was made and avowed in its constitution. As to
individuals, other methods were employed with them, in order so
thoroughly to disunite every party, and even every family, that _no
concert_, _order_, _or effect_, _might appear in any future opposition_.
And in this manner an Administration without connection with the people,
or with one another, was first put in possession of Government. What
good consequences followed from it, we have all seen; whether with regard
to virtue, public or private; to the ease and happiness of the Sovereign;
or to the real strength of Government. But as so much stress was then
laid on the necessity of this new project, it will not be amiss to take a
view of the effects of this Royal servitude and vile durance, which was
so deplored in the reign of the late Monarch, and was so carefully to be
avoided in the reign of his successor. The effects were these.
In times full of doubt and danger to his person and family, George the
Second maintained the dignity of his Crown connected with the liberty of
his people, not only unimpaired, but improved, for the space of thirty-
three years. He overcame a dangerous rebellion, abetted by foreign
force, and raging in the heart of his kingdoms; and thereby destroyed the
seeds of all future rebellion that could arise upon the same principle.
He carried the glory, the power, the commerce of England, to a height
unknown even to this renowned nation in the times of its greatest
prosperity: and he left his succession resting on the true and only true
foundation of all national and all regal greatness; affection at home,
reputation abroad, trust in allies, terror in rival nations. The most
ardent lover of his country cannot wish for Great Britain a happier fate
than to continue as she was then left. A people emulous as we are in
affection to our present Sovereign, know not how to form a prayer to
Heaven for a greater blessing upon his virtues, or a higher state of
felicity and glory, than that he should live, and should reign, and, when
Providence ordains it, should die, exactly like his illustrious
predecessor.
A great Prince may be obliged (though such a thing cannot happen very
often) to sacrifice his private inclination to his public interest. A
wise Prince will not think that such a restraint implies a condition of
servility; and truly, if such was the condition of the last reign, and
the effects were also such as we have described, we ought, no less for
the sake of the Sovereign whom we love, than for our own, to hear
arguments convincing indeed, before we depart from the maxims of that
reign, or fly in the face of this great body of strong and recent
experience.
One of the principal topics which was then, and has been since, much
employed by that political school, is an effectual terror of the growth
of an aristocratic power, prejudicial to the rights of the Crown, and the
balance of the constitution. Any new powers exercised in the House of
Lords, or in the House of Commons, or by the Crown, ought certainly to
excite the vigilant and anxious jealousy of a free people. Even a new
and unprecedented course of action in the whole Legislature, without
great and evident reason, may be a subject of just uneasiness. I will
not affirm, that there may not have lately appeared in the House of Lords
a disposition to some attempts derogatory to the legal rights of the
subject. If any such have really appeared, they have arisen, not from a
power properly aristocratic, but from the same influence which is charged
with having excited attempts of a similar nature in the House of Commons;
which House, if it should have been betrayed into an unfortunate quarrel
with its constituents, and involved in a charge of the very same nature,
could have neither power nor inclination to repel such attempts in
others. Those attempts in the House of Lords can no more be called
aristocratic proceedings, than the proceedings with regard to the county
of Middlesex in the House of Commons can with any sense be called
democratical.
It is true, that the Peers have a great influence in the kingdom, and in
every part of the public concerns. While they are men of property, it is
impossible to prevent it, except by such means as must prevent all
property from its natural operation: an event not easily to be compassed,
while property is power; nor by any means to be wished, while the least
notion exists of the method by which the spirit of liberty acts, and of
the means by which it is preserved. If any particular Peers, by their
uniform, upright, constitutional conduct, by their public and their
private virtues, have acquired an influence in the country; the people on
whose favour that influence depends, and from whom it arose, will never
be duped into an opinion, that such greatness in a Peer is the despotism
of an aristocracy, when they know and feel it to be the effect and pledge
of their own importance.
I am no friend to aristocracy, in the sense at least in which that word
is usually understood. If it were not a bad habit to moot cases on the
supposed ruin of the constitution, I should be free to declare, that if
it must perish, I would rather by far see it resolved into any other
form, than lost in that austere and insolent domination. But, whatever
my dislikes may be, my fears are not upon that quarter. The question, on
the influence of a Court, and of a Peerage, is not, which of the two
dangers is the most eligible, but which is the most imminent. He is but
a poor observer, who has not seen, that the generality of Peers, far from
supporting themselves in a state of independent greatness, are but too
apt to fall into an oblivion of their proper dignity, and to run headlong
into an abject servitude. Would to God it were true, that the fault of
our Peers were too much spirit! It is worthy of some observation, that
these gentlemen, so jealous of aristocracy, make no complaints of the
power of those peers (neither few nor inconsiderable) who are always in
the train of a Court, and whose whole weight must be considered as a
portion of the settled influence of the Crown. This is all safe and
right; but if some Peers (I am very sorry they are not as many as they
ought to be) set themselves, in the great concern of Peers and Commons,
against a back-stairs influence and clandestine government, then the
alarm begins; then the constitution is in danger of being forced into an
aristocracy.
I rest a little the longer on this Court topic, because it was much
insisted upon at the time of the great change, and has been since
frequently revived by many of the agents of that party: for, whilst they
are terrifying the great and opulent with the horrors of mob-government,
they are by other managers attempting (though hitherto with little
success) to alarm the people with a phantom of tyranny in the Nobles. All
this is done upon their favourite principle of disunion, of sowing
jealousies amongst the different orders of the State, and of disjointing
the natural strength of the kingdom; that it may be rendered incapable of
resisting the sinister designs of wicked men, who have engrossed the
Royal power.
* * * * *
Thus much of the topics chosen by the courtiers to recommend their
system; it will be necessary to open a little more at large the nature of
that party which was formed for its support. Without this, the whole
would have been no better than a visionary amusement, like the scheme of
Harrington's political club, and not a business in which the nation had a
real concern. As a powerful party, and a party constructed on a new
principle, it is a very inviting object of curiosity.
It must be remembered, that since the Revolution, until the period we are
speaking of, the influence of the Crown had been always employed in
supporting the Ministers of State, and in carrying on the public business
according to their opinions. But the party now in question is formed
upon a very different idea. It is to intercept the favour, protection,
and confidence of the Crown in the passage to its Ministers; it is to
come between them and their importance in Parliament; it is to separate
them from all their natural and acquired dependencies; it is intended as
the control, not the support, of Administration. The machinery of this
system is perplexed in its movements, and false in its principle. It is
formed on a supposition that the King is something external to his
government; and that he may be honoured and aggrandised, even by its
debility and disgrace. The plan proceeds expressly on the idea of
enfeebling the regular executory power. It proceeds on the idea of
weakening the State in order to strengthen the Court. The scheme
depending entirely on distrust, on disconnection, on mutability by
principle, on systematic weakness in every particular member; it is
impossible that the total result should be substantial strength of any
kind.
As a foundation of their scheme, the Cabal have established a sort of
_Rota_ in the Court. All sorts of parties, by this means, have been
brought into Administration, from whence few have had the good fortune to
escape without disgrace; none at all without considerable losses. In the
beginning of each arrangement no professions of confidence and support
are wanting, to induce the leading men to engage. But while the
Ministers of the day appear in all the pomp and pride of power, while
they have all their canvas spread out to the wind, and every sail filled
with the fair and prosperous gale of Royal favour, in a short time they
find, they know not how, a current, which sets directly against them;
which prevents all progress, and even drives them backwards. They grow
ashamed and mortified in a situation, which, by its vicinity to power,
only serves to remind them the more strongly of their insignificance.
They are obliged either to execute the orders of their inferiors, or to
see themselves opposed by the natural instruments of their office. With
the loss of their dignity, they lose their temper. In their turn they
grow troublesome to that Cabal, which, whether it supports or opposes,
equally disgraces and equally betrays them. It is soon found necessary
to get rid of the heads of Administration; but it is of the heads only.
As there always are many rotten members belonging to the best
connections, it is not hard to persuade several to continue in office
without their leaders. By this means the party goes out much thinner
than it came in; and is only reduced in strength by its temporary
possession of power. Besides, if by accident, or in course of changes,
that power should be recovered, the Junto have thrown up a retrenchment
of these carcases, which may serve to cover themselves in a day of
danger. They conclude, not unwisely, that such rotten members will
become the first objects of disgust and resentment to their ancient
connections.
They contrive to form in the outward Administration two parties at the
least; which, whilst they are tearing one another to pieces, are both
competitors for the favour and protection of the Cabal; and, by their
emulation, contribute to throw everything more and more into the hands of
the interior managers.
A Minister of State will sometimes keep himself totally estranged from
all his colleagues; will differ from them in their counsels, will
privately traverse, and publicly oppose, their measures. He will,
however, continue in his employment. Instead of suffering any mark of
displeasure, he will be distinguished by an unbounded profusion of Court
rewards and caresses; because he does what is expected, and all that is
expected, from men in office. He helps to keep some form of
Administration in being, and keeps it at the same time as weak and
divided as possible.
However, we must take care not to be mistaken, or to imagine that such
persons have any weight in their opposition. When, by them,
Administration is convinced of its insignificancy, they are soon to be
convinced of their own. They never are suffered to succeed in their
opposition. They and the world are to be satisfied, that neither office,
nor authority, nor property, nor ability, eloquence, counsel, skill, or
union, are of the least importance; but that the mere influence of the
Court, naked of all support, and destitute of all management, is
abundantly sufficient for all its own purposes.
When any adverse connection is to be destroyed, the Cabal seldom appear
in the work themselves. They find out some person of whom the party
entertains a high opinion. Such a person they endeavour to delude with
various pretences. They teach him first to distrust, and then to quarrel
with his friends; among whom, by the same arts, they excite a similar
diffidence of him; so that in this mutual fear and distrust, he may
suffer himself to be employed as the instrument in the change which is
brought about. Afterwards they are sure to destroy him in his turn; by
setting up in his place some person in whom he had himself reposed the
greatest confidence, and who serves to carry on a considerable part of
his adherents.
When such a person has broke in this manner with his connections, he is
soon compelled to commit some flagrant act of iniquitous personal
hostility against some of them (such as an attempt to strip a particular
friend of his family estate), by which the Cabal hope to render the
parties utterly irreconcilable. In truth, they have so contrived
matters, that people have a greater hatred to the subordinate instruments
than to the principal movers.
As in destroying their enemies they make use of instruments not
immediately belonging to their corps, so in advancing their own friends
they pursue exactly the same method. To promote any of them to
considerable rank or emolument, they commonly take care that the
recommendation shall pass through the hands of the ostensible Ministry:
such a recommendation might, however, appear to the world as some proof
of the credit of Ministers, and some means of increasing their strength.
To prevent this, the persons so advanced are directed in all companies,
industriously to declare, that they are under no obligations whatsoever
to Administration; that they have received their office from another
quarter; that they are totally free and independent.
When the Faction has any job of lucre to obtain, or of vengeance to
perpetrate, their way is, to select, for the execution, those very
persons to whose habits, friendships, principles, and declarations, such
proceedings are publicly known to be the most adverse; at once to render
the instruments the more odious, and therefore the more dependent, and to
prevent the people from ever reposing a confidence in any appearance of
private friendship, or public principle.
If the Administration seem now and then, from remissness, or from fear of
making themselves disagreeable, to suffer any popular excesses to go
unpunished, the Cabal immediately sets up some creature of theirs to
raise a clamour against the Ministers, as having shamefully betrayed the
dignity of Government. Then they compel the Ministry to become active in
conferring rewards and honours on the persons who have been the
instruments of their disgrace; and, after having first vilified them with
the higher orders for suffering the laws to sleep over the licentiousness
of the populace, they drive them (in order to make amends for their
former inactivity) to some act of atrocious violence, which renders them
completely abhorred by the people. They who remember the riots which
attended the Middlesex Election; the opening of the present Parliament;
and the transactions relative to Saint George's Fields, will not be at a
loss for an application of these remarks.
That this body may be enabled to compass all the ends of its institution,
its members are scarcely ever to aim at the high and responsible offices
of the State. They are distributed with art and judgment through all the
secondary, but efficient, departments of office, and through the
households of all the branches of the Royal Family: so as on one hand to
occupy all the avenues to the Throne; and on the other to forward or
frustrate the execution of any measure, according to their own interests.
For with the credit and support which they are known to have, though for
the greater part in places which are only a genteel excuse for salary,
they possess all the influence of the highest posts; and they dictate
publicly in almost everything, even with a parade of superiority.
Whenever they dissent (as it often happens) from their nominal leaders,
the trained part of the Senate, instinctively in the secret, is sure to
follow them; provided the leaders, sensible of their situation, do not of
themselves recede in time from their most declared opinions. This latter
is generally the case. It will not be conceivable to any one who has not
seen it, what pleasure is taken by the Cabal in rendering these heads of
office thoroughly contemptible and ridiculous. And when they are become
so, they have then the best chance, for being well supported.
The members of the Court faction are fully indemnified for not holding
places on the slippery heights of the kingdom, not only by the lead in
all affairs, but also by the perfect security in which they enjoy less
conspicuous, but very advantageous, situations. Their places are, in
express legal tenure, or in effect, all of them for life. Whilst the
first and most respectable persons in the kingdom are tossed about like
tennis balls, the sport of a blind and insolent caprice, no Minister
dares even to cast an oblique glance at the lowest of their body. If an
attempt be made upon one of this corps, immediately he flies to
sanctuary, and pretends to the most inviolable of all promises. No
conveniency of public arrangement is available to remove any one of them
from the specific situation he holds; and the slightest attempt upon one
of them, by the most powerful Minister, is a certain preliminary to his
own destruction.
Conscious of their independence, they bear themselves with a lofty air to
the exterior Ministers. Like Janissaries, they derive a kind of freedom
from the very condition of their servitude. They may act just as they
please; provided they are true to the great ruling principle of their
institution. It is, therefore, not at all wonderful, that people should
be so desirous of adding themselves to that body, in which they may
possess and reconcile satisfactions the most alluring, and seemingly the
most contradictory; enjoying at once all the spirited pleasure of
independence, and all the gross lucre and fat emoluments of servitude.
Here is a sketch, though a slight one, of the constitution, laws, and
policy, of this new Court corporation. The name by which they choose to
distinguish themselves, is that of _King's men_, or the _King's friends_,
by an invidious exclusion of the rest of his Majesty's most loyal and
affectionate subjects. The whole system, comprehending the exterior and
interior Administrations, is commonly called, in the technical language
of the Court, _Double Cabinet_; in French or English, as you choose to
pronounce it.
Whether all this be a vision of a distracted brain, or the invention of a
malicious heart, or a real faction in the country, must be judged by the
appearances which things have worn for eight years past. Thus far I am
certain, that there is not a single public man, in or out of office, who
has not, at some time or other, borne testimony to the truth of what I
have now related. In particular, no persons have been more strong in
their assertions, and louder and more indecent in their complaints, than
those who compose all the exterior part of the present Administration; in
whose time that faction has arrived at such a height of power, and of
boldness in the use of it, as may, in the end, perhaps bring about its
total destruction.
It is true, that about four years ago, during the administration of the
Marquis of Rockingham, an attempt was made to carry on Government without
their concurrence. However, this was only a transient cloud; they were
hid but for a moment; and their constellation blazed out with greater
brightness, and a far more vigorous influence, some time after it was
blown over. An attempt was at that time made (but without any idea of
proscription) to break their corps, to discountenance their doctrines, to
revive connections of a different kind, to restore the principles and
policy of the Whigs, to reanimate the cause of Liberty by Ministerial
countenance; and then for the first time were men seen attached in office
to every principle they had maintained in opposition. No one will doubt,
that such men were abhorred and violently opposed by the Court faction,
and that such a system could have but a short duration.
It may appear somewhat affected, that in so much discourse upon this
extraordinary party, I should say so little of the Earl of Bute, who is
the supposed head of it. But this was neither owing to affectation nor
inadvertence. I have carefully avoided the introduction of personal
reflections of any kind. Much the greater part of the topics which have
been used to blacken this nobleman are either unjust or frivolous. At
best, they have a tendency to give the resentment of this bitter calamity
a wrong direction, and to turn a public grievance into a mean personal,
or a dangerous national, quarrel. Where there is a regular scheme of
operations carried on, it is the system, and not any individual person
who acts in it, that is truly dangerous. This system has not risen
solely from the ambition of Lord Bute, but from the circumstances which
favoured it, and from an indifference to the constitution which had been
for some time growing among our gentry. We should have been tried with
it, if the Earl of Bute had never existed; and it will want neither a
contriving head nor active members, when the Earl of Bute exists no
longer. It is not, therefore, to rail at Lord Bute, but firmly to embody
against this Court party and its practices, which can afford us any
prospect of relief in our present condition.
Another motive induces me to put the personal consideration of Lord Bute
wholly out of the question. He communicates very little in a direct
manner with the greater part of our men of business. This has never been
his custom. It is enough for him that he surrounds them with his
creatures. Several imagine, therefore, that they have a very good excuse
for doing all the work of this faction, when they have no personal
connection with Lord Bute. But whoever becomes a party to an
Administration, composed of insulated individuals, without faith
plighted, tie, or common principle; an Administration constitutionally
impotent, because supported by no party in the nation; he who contributes
to destroy the connections of men and their trust in one another, or in
any sort to throw the dependence of public counsels upon private will and
favour, possibly may have nothing to do with the Earl of Bute. It
matters little whether he be the friend or the enemy of that particular
person. But let him be who or what he will, he abets a faction that is
driving hard to the ruin of his country. He is sapping the foundation of
its liberty, disturbing the sources of its domestic tranquillity,
weakening its government over its dependencies, degrading it from all its
importance in the system of Europe.
It is this unnatural infusion of a _system of Favouritism_ into a
Government which in a great part of its constitution is popular, that has
raised the present ferment in the nation. The people, without entering
deeply into its principles, could plainly perceive its effects, in much
violence, in a great spirit of innovation, and a general disorder in all
the functions of Government. I keep my eye solely on this system; if I
speak of those measures which have arisen from it, it will be so far only
as they illustrate the general scheme. This is the fountain of all those
bitter waters of which, through a hundred different conducts, we have
drunk until we are ready to burst. The discretionary power of the Crown
in the formation of Ministry, abused by bad or weak men, has given rise
to a system, which, without directly violating the letter of any law,
operates against the spirit of the whole constitution.
A plan of Favouritism for our executory Government is essentially at
variance with the plan of our Legislature. One great end undoubtedly of
a mixed Government like ours, composed of Monarchy, and of controls, on
the part of the higher people and the lower, is that the Prince shall not
be able to violate the laws. This is useful indeed and fundamental. But
this, even at first view, is no more than a negative advantage; an armour
merely defensive. It is therefore next in order, and equal in
importance, _that the discretionary powers which are necessarily vested
in the Monarch_, _whether for the execution of the laws_, _or for the
nomination to magistracy and office_, _or for conducting the affairs of
peace and war_, _or for ordering the revenue_, _should all be exercised
upon public principles and national grounds_, _and not on the likings or
prejudices_, _the intrigues or policies of a Court_. This, I said, is
equal in importance to the securing a Government according to law. The
laws reach but a very little way. Constitute Government how you please,
infinitely the greater part of it must depend upon the exercise of the
powers which are left at large to the prudence and uprightness of
Ministers of State. Even all the use and potency of the laws depends
upon them. Without them, your Commonwealth is no better than a scheme
upon paper; and not a living, active, effective constitution. It is
possible, that through negligence, or ignorance, or design artfully
conducted, Ministers may suffer one part of Government to languish,
another to be perverted from its purposes: and every valuable interest of
the country to fall into ruin and decay, without possibility of fixing
any single act on which a criminal prosecution can be justly grounded.
The due arrangement of men in the active part of the state, far from
being foreign to the purposes of a wise Government, ought to be among its
very first and dearest objects. When, therefore, the abettors of new
system tell us, that between them and their opposers there is nothing but
a struggle for power, and that therefore we are no-ways concerned in it;
we must tell those who have the impudence to insult us in this manner,
that, of all things, we ought to be the most concerned, who and what sort
of men they are, that hold the trust of everything that is dear to us.
Nothing can render this a point of indifference to the nation, but what
must either render us totally desperate, or soothe us into the security
of idiots. We must soften into a credulity below the milkiness of
infancy, to think all men virtuous. We must be tainted with a malignity
truly diabolical, to believe all the world to be equally wicked and
corrupt. Men are in public life as in private--some good, some evil. The
elevation of the one, and the depression of the other, are the first
objects of all true policy. But that form of Government, which, neither
in its direct institutions, nor in their immediate tendency, has
contrived to throw its affairs into the most trustworthy hands, but has
left its whole executory system to be disposed of agreeably to the
uncontrolled pleasure of any one man, however excellent or virtuous, is a
plan of polity defective not only in that member, but consequentially
erroneous in every part of it.
In arbitrary Governments, the constitution of the Ministry follows the
constitution of the Legislature. Both the Law and the Magistrate are the
creatures of Will. It must be so. Nothing, indeed, will appear more
certain, on any tolerable consideration of this matter, than that _every
sort of Government ought to have its Administration correspondent to its
Legislature_. If it should be otherwise, things must fall into a hideous
disorder. The people of a free Commonwealth, who have taken such care
that their laws should be the result of general consent, cannot be so
senseless as to suffer their executory system to be composed of persons
on whom they have no dependence, and whom no proofs of the public love
and confidence have recommended to those powers, upon the use of which
the very being of the State depends.
The popular election of magistrates, and popular disposition of rewards
and honours, is one of the first advantages of a free State. Without it,
or something equivalent to it, perhaps the people cannot long enjoy the
substance of freedom; certainly none of the vivifying energy of good
Government. The frame of our Commonwealth did not admit of such an
actual election: but it provided as well, and (while the spirit of the
constitution is preserved) better, for all the effects of it, than by the
method of suffrage in any democratic State whatsoever. It had always,
until of late, been held the first duty of Parliament _to refuse to
support Government_, _until power was in the hands of persons who were
acceptable to the people_, _or while factions predominated in the Court
in which the nation had no confidence_. Thus all the good effects of
popular election were supposed to be secured to us, without the mischiefs
attending on perpetual intrigue, and a distinct canvass for every
particular office throughout the body of the people. This was the most
noble and refined part of our constitution. The people, by their
representatives and grandees, were intrusted with a deliberative power in
making laws; the King with the control of his negative. The King was
intrusted with the deliberative choice and the election to office; the
people had the negative in a Parliamentary refusal to support. Formerly
this power of control was what kept Ministers in awe of Parliaments, and
Parliaments in reverence with the people. If the use of this power of
control on the system and persons of Administration is gone, everything
is lost, Parliament and all. We may assure ourselves, that if Parliament
will tamely see evil men take possession of all the strongholds of their
country, and allow them time and means to fortify themselves, under a
pretence of giving them a fair trial, and upon a hope of discovering,
whether they will not be reformed by power, and whether their measures
will not be better than their morals; such a Parliament will give
countenance to their measures also, whatever that Parliament may pretend,
and whatever those measures may be.
Every good political institution must have a preventive operation as well
as a remedial. It ought to have a natural tendency to exclude bad men
from Government, and not to trust for the safety of the State to
subsequent punishment alone--punishment which has ever been tardy and
uncertain, and which, when power is suffered in bad hands, may chance to
fall rather on the injured than the criminal.
Before men are put forward into the great trusts of the State, they ought
by their conduct to have obtained such a degree of estimation in their
country as may be some sort of pledge and security to the public that
they will not abuse those trusts. It is no mean security for a proper
use of power, that a man has shown by the general tenor of his actions,
that the affection, the good opinion, the confidence of his
fellow-citizens have been among the principal objects of his life, and
that he has owed none of the gradations of his power or fortune to a
settled contempt or occasional forfeiture of their esteem.
That man who, before he comes into power, has no friends, or who, coming
into power, is obliged to desert his friends, or who, losing it, has no
friends to sympathise with him, he who has no sway among any part of the
landed or commercial interest, but whose whole importance has begun with
his office, and is sure to end with it, is a person who ought never to be
suffered by a controlling Parliament, to continue in any of those
situations which confer the lead and direction of all our public affairs;
because such a man _has no connection with the sentiments and opinions of
the people_.
Those knots or cabals of men who have got together, avowedly without any
public principle, in order to sell their conjunct iniquity at the higher
rate, and are therefore universally odious, ought never to be suffered to
domineer in the State; because they have _no connection with the
sentiments and opinions of the people_.
These are considerations which, in my opinion, enforce the necessity of
having some better reason, in a free country and a free Parliament, for
supporting the Ministers of the Crown, than that short one, _That the
King has thought proper to appoint them_. There is something very
courtly in this. But it is a principle pregnant with all sorts of
mischief, in a constitution like ours, to turn the views of active men
from the country to the Court. Whatever be the road to power, that is
the road which will be trod. If the opinion of the country be of no use
as a means of power or consideration, the qualities which usually procure
that opinion will be no longer cultivated. And whether it will be right,
in a State so popular in its constitution as ours, to leave ambition
without popular motives, and to trust all to the operation of pure virtue
in the minds of Kings and Ministers, and public men, must be submitted to
the judgment and good sense of the people of England.
* * * * *
Cunning men are here apt to break in, and, without directly controverting
the principle, to raise objections from the difficulty under which the
Sovereign labours to distinguish the genuine voice and sentiments of his
people from the clamour of a faction, by which it is so easily
counterfeited. The nation, they say, is generally divided into parties,
with views and passions utterly irreconcilable. If the King should put
his affairs into the hands of any one of them, he is sure to disgust the
rest; if he select particular men from among them all, it is a hazard
that he disgusts them all. Those who are left out, however divided
before, will soon run into a body of opposition, which, being a
collection of many discontents into one focus, will without doubt be hot
and violent enough. Faction will make its cries resound through the
nation, as if the whole were in an uproar, when by far the majority, and
much the better part, will seem for awhile, as it were, annihilated by
the quiet in which their virtue and moderation incline them to enjoy the
blessings of Government. Besides that, the opinion of the mere vulgar is
a miserable rule even with regard to themselves, on account of their
violence and instability. So that if you were to gratify them in their
humour to-day, that very gratification would be a ground of their
dissatisfaction on the next. Now as all these rules of public opinion
are to be collected with great difficulty, and to be applied with equal
uncertainty as to the effect, what better can a King of England do than
to employ such men as he finds to have views and inclinations most
conformable to his own, who are least infected with pride and self-will,
and who are least moved by such popular humours as are perpetually
traversing his designs, and disturbing his service; trusting that when he
means no ill to his people he will be supported in his appointments,
whether he chooses to keep or to change, as his private judgment or his
pleasure leads him? He will find a sure resource in the real weight and
influence of the Crown, when it is not suffered to become an instrument
in the hands of a faction.
I will not pretend to say that there is nothing at all in this mode of
reasoning, because I will not assert that there is no difficulty in the
art of government. Undoubtedly the very best Administration must
encounter a great deal of opposition, and the very worst will find more
support than it deserves. Sufficient appearances will never be wanting
to those who have a mind to deceive themselves. It is a fallacy in
constant use with those who would level all things, and confound right
with wrong, to insist upon the inconveniences which are attached to every
choice, without taking into consideration the different weight and
consequence of those inconveniences. The question is not concerning
absolute discontent or perfect satisfaction in Government, neither of
which can be pure and unmixed at any time or upon any system. The
controversy is about that degree of good-humour in the people, which may
possibly be attained, and ought certainly to be looked for. While some
politicians may be waiting to know whether the sense of every individual
be against them, accurately distinguishing the vulgar from the better
sort, drawing lines between the enterprises of a faction and the efforts
of a people, they may chance to see the Government, which they are so
nicely weighing, and dividing, and distinguishing, tumble to the ground
in the midst of their wise deliberation. Prudent men, when so great an
object as the security of Government, or even its peace, is at stake,
will not run the risk of a decision which may be fatal to it. They who
can read the political sky will seen a hurricane in a cloud no bigger
than a hand at the very edge of the horizon, and will run into the first
harbour. No lines can be laid down for civil or political wisdom. They
are a matter incapable of exact definition. But, though no man can draw
a stroke between the confines of day and night, yet light and darkness
are upon the whole tolerably distinguishable. Nor will it be impossible
for a Prince to find out such a mode of government, and such persons to
administer it, as will give a great degree of content to his people,
without any curious and anxious research for that abstract, universal,
perfect harmony, which, while he is seeking, he abandons those means of
ordinary tranquillity which are in his power without any research at all.
It is not more the duty than it is the interest of a Prince to aim at
giving tranquillity to his Government. If those who advise him may have
an interest in disorder and confusion. If the opinion of the people is
against them, they will naturally wish that it should have no prevalence.
Here it is that the people must on their part show themselves sensible of
their own value. Their whole importance, in the first instance, and
afterwards their whole freedom, is at stake. Their freedom cannot long
survive their importance. Here it is that the natural strength of the
kingdom, the great peers, the leading landed gentlemen, the opulent
merchants and manufacturers, the substantial yeomanry, must interpose, to
rescue their Prince, themselves, and their posterity.
We are at present at issue upon this point. We are in the great crisis
of this contention, and the part which men take, one way or other, will
serve to discriminate their characters and their principles. Until the
matter is decided, the country will remain in its present confusion. For
while a system of Administration is attempted, entirely repugnant to the
genius of the people, and not conformable to the plan of their
Government, everything must necessarily be disordered for a time, until
this system destroys the constitution, or the constitution gets the
better of this system.
There is, in my opinion, a peculiar venom and malignity in this political
distemper beyond any that I have heard or read of. In former lines the
projectors of arbitrary Government attacked only the liberties of their
country, a design surely mischievous enough to have satisfied a mind of
the most unruly ambition. But a system unfavourable to freedom may be so
formed as considerably to exalt the grandeur of the State, and men may
find in the pride and splendour of that prosperity some sort of
consolation for the loss of their solid privileges. Indeed, the increase
of the power of the State has often been urged by artful men, as a
pretext for some abridgment of the public liberty. But the scheme of the
junto under consideration not only strikes a palsy into every nerve of
our free constitution, but in the same degree benumbs and stupefies the
whole executive power, rendering Government in all its grand operations
languid, uncertain, ineffective, making Ministers fearful of attempting,
and incapable of executing, any useful plan of domestic arrangement, or
of foreign politics. It tends to produce neither the security of a free
Government, nor the energy of a Monarchy that is absolute. Accordingly,
the Crown has dwindled away in proportion to the unnatural and turgid
growth of this excrescence on the Court.
The interior Ministry are sensible that war is a situation which sets in
its full light the value of the hearts of a people, and they well know
that the beginning of the importance of the people must be the end of
theirs. For this reason they discover upon all occasions the utmost fear
of everything which by possibility may lead to such an event. I do not
mean that they manifest any of that pious fear which is backward to
commit the safety of the country to the dubious experiment of war. Such
a fear, being the tender sensation of virtue, excited, as it is
regulated, by reason, frequently shows itself in a seasonable boldness,
which keeps danger at a distance, by seeming to despise it. Their fear
betrays to the first glance of the eye its true cause and its real
object. Foreign powers, confident in the knowledge of their character,
have not scrupled to violate the most solemn treaties; and, in defiance
of them, to make conquests in the midst of a general peace, and in the
heart of Europe. Such was the conquest of Corsica, by the professed
enemies of the freedom of mankind, in defiance of those who were formerly
its professed defenders. We have had just claims upon the same
powers--rights which ought to have been sacred to them as well as to us,
as they had their origin in our lenity and generosity towards France and
Spain in the day of their great humiliation. Such I call the ransom of
Manilla, and the demand on France for the East India prisoners. But
these powers put a just confidence in their resource of the double
Cabinet. These demands (one of them, at least) are hastening fast
towards an acquittal by prescription. Oblivion begins to spread her
cobwebs over all our spirited remonstrances. Some of the most valuable
branches of our trade are also on the point of perishing from the same
cause. I do not mean those branches which bear without the hand of the
vine-dresser; I mean those which the policy of treaties had formerly
secured to us; I mean to mark and distinguish the trade of Portugal, the
loss of which, and the power of the Cabal, have one and the same era.
If, by any chance, the Ministers who stand before the curtain possess or
affect any spirit, it makes little or no impression. Foreign Courts and
Ministers, who were among the first to discover and to profit by this
invention of the _double Cabinet_, attended very little to their
remonstrances. They know that those shadows of Ministers have nothing to
do in the ultimate disposal of things. Jealousies and animosities are
sedulously nourished in the outward Administration, and have been even
considered as a _causa sine qua non_ in its constitution: thence foreign
Courts have a certainty, that nothing can be done by common counsel in
this nation. If one of those Ministers officially takes up a business
with spirit, it serves only the better to signalise the meanness of the
rest, and the discord of them all. His colleagues in office are in haste
to shake him off, and to disclaim the whole of his proceedings. Of this
nature was that astonishing transaction, in which Lord Rochford, our
Ambassador at Paris, remonstrated against the attempt upon Corsica, in
consequence of a direct authority from Lord Shelburne. This remonstrance
the French Minister treated with the contempt that was natural; as he was
assured, from the Ambassador of his Court to ours, that these orders of
Lord Shelburne were not supported by the rest of the (I had like to have
said British) Administration. Lord Rochford, a man of spirit, could not
endure this situation. The consequences were, however, curious. He
returns from Paris, and comes home full of anger. Lord Shelburne, who
gave the orders, is obliged to give up the seals. Lord Rochford, who
obeyed these orders, receives them. He goes, however, into another
department of the same office, that he might not be obliged officially to
acquiesce in one situation, under what he had officially remonstrated
against in another. At Paris, the Duke of Choiseul considered this
office arrangement as a compliment to him: here it was spoke of as an
attention to the delicacy of Lord Rochford. But whether the compliment
was to one or both, to this nation it was the same. By this transaction
the condition of our Court lay exposed in all its nakedness. Our office
correspondence has lost all pretence to authenticity; British policy is
brought into derision in those nations, that a while ago trembled at the
power of our arms, whilst they looked up with confidence to the equity,
firmness, and candour, which shone in all our negotiations. I represent
this matter exactly in the light in which it has been universally
received.
* * * * *
Such has been the aspect of our foreign politics under the influence of a
_double Cabinet_. With such an arrangement at Court, it is impossible it
should have been otherwise. Nor is it possible that this scheme should
have a better effect upon the government of our dependencies, the first,
the dearest, and most delicate objects of the interior policy of this
empire. The Colonies know that Administration is separated from the
Court, divided within itself, and detested by the nation. The double
Cabinet has, in both the parts of it, shown the most malignant
dispositions towards them, without being able to do them the smallest
mischief.
They are convinced, by sufficient experience, that no plan, either of
lenity or rigour, can be pursued with uniformity and perseverance.
Therefore they turn their eyes entirely from Great Britain, where they
have neither dependence on friendship nor apprehension from enmity. They
look to themselves, and their own arrangements. They grow every day into
alienation from this country; and whilst they are becoming disconnected
with our Government, we have not the consolation to find that they are
even friendly in their new independence. Nothing can equal the futility,
the weakness, the rashness, the timidity, the perpetual contradiction, in
the management of our affairs in that part of the world. A volume might
be written on this melancholy subject; but it were better to leave it
entirely to the reflections of the reader himself, than not to treat it
in the extent it deserves.
In what manner our domestic economy is affected by this system, it is
needless to explain. It is the perpetual subject of their own
complaints.
The Court party resolve the whole into faction. Having said something
before upon this subject, I shall only observe here, that, when they give
this account of the prevalence of faction, they present no very
favourable aspect of the confidence of the people in their own
Government. They may be assured, that however they amuse themselves with
a variety of projects for substituting something else in the place of
that great and only foundation of Government, the confidence of the
people, every attempt will but make their condition worse. When men
imagine that their food is only a cover for poison, and when they neither
love nor trust the hand that serves it, it is not the name of the roast
beef of Old England that will persuade them to sit down to the table that
is spread for them. When the people conceive that laws, and tribunals,
and even popular assemblies, are perverted from the ends of their
institution, they find in those names of degenerated establishments only
new motives to discontent. Those bodies, which, when full of life and
beauty, lay in their arms and were their joy and comfort; when dead and
putrid, become but the more loathsome from remembrance of former
endearments. A sullen gloom, and furious disorder, prevail by fits: the
nation loses its relish for peace and prosperity, as it did in that
season of fulness which opened our troubles in the time of Charles the
First. A species of men to whom a state of order would become a sentence
of obscurity, are nourished into a dangerous magnitude by the heat of
intestine disturbances; and it is no wonder that, by a sort of sinister
piety, they cherish, in their turn, the disorders which are the parents
of all their consequence. Superficial observers consider such persons as
the cause of the public uneasiness, when, in truth, they are nothing more
than the effect of it. Good men look upon this distracted scene with
sorrow and indignation. Their hands are tied behind them. They are
despoiled of all the power which might enable them to reconcile the
strength of Government with the rights of the people. They stand in a
most distressing alternative. But in the election among evils they hope
better things from temporary confusion, than from established servitude.
In the mean time, the voice of law is not to be heard. Fierce
licentiousness begets violent restraints. The military arm is the sole
reliance; and then, call your constitution what you please, it is the
sword that governs. The civil power, like every other that calls in the
aid of an ally stronger than itself, perishes by the assistance it
receives. But the contrivers of this scheme of Government will not trust
solely to the military power, because they are cunning men. Their
restless and crooked spirit drives them to rake in the dirt of every kind
of expedient. Unable to rule the multitude, they endeavour to raise
divisions amongst them. One mob is hired to destroy another; a procedure
which at once encourages the boldness of the populace, and justly
increases their discontent. Men become pensioners of state on account of
their abilities in the array of riot, and the discipline of confusion.
Government is put under the disgraceful necessity of protecting from the
severity of the laws that very licentiousness, which the laws had been
before violated to repress. Everything partakes of the original
disorder. Anarchy predominates without freedom, and servitude without
submission or subordination. These are the consequences inevitable to
our public peace, from the scheme of rendering the executory Government
at once odious and feeble; of freeing Administration from the
constitutional and salutary control of Parliament, and inventing for it a
new control, unknown to the constitution, an _interior_ Cabinet; which
brings the whole body of Government into confusion and contempt.
* * * * *
After having stated, as shortly as I am able, the effects of this system
on our foreign affairs, on the policy of our Government with regard to
our dependencies, and on the interior economy of the Commonwealth; there
remains only, in this part of my design, to say something of the grand
principle which first recommended this system at Court. The pretence was
to prevent the King from being enslaved by a faction, and made a prisoner
in his closet. This scheme might have been expected to answer at least
its own end, and to indemnify the King, in his personal capacity, for all
the confusion into which it has thrown his Government. But has it in
reality answered this purpose? I am sure, if it had, every affectionate
subject would have one motive for enduring with patience all the evils
which attend it.
In order to come at the truth in this matter, it may not be amiss to
consider it somewhat in detail. I speak here of the King, and not of the
Crown; the interests of which we have already touched. Independent of
that greatness which a King possesses merely by being a representative of
the national dignity, the things in which he may have an individual
interest seem to be these: wealth accumulated; wealth spent in
magnificence, pleasure, or beneficence; personal respect and attention;
and above all, private ease and repose of mind. These compose the
inventory of prosperous circumstances, whether they regard a Prince or a
subject; their enjoyments differing only in the scale upon which they are
formed.
Suppose then we were to ask, whether the King has been richer than his
predecessors in accumulated wealth, since the establishment of the plan
of Favouritism? I believe it will be found that the picture of royal
indigence which our Court has presented until this year, has been truly
humiliating. Nor has it been relieved from this unseemly distress, but
by means which have hazarded the affection of the people, and shaken
their confidence in Parliament. If the public treasures had been
exhausted in magnificence and splendour, this distress would have been
accounted for, and in some measure justified. Nothing would be more
unworthy of this nation, than with a mean and mechanical rule, to mete
out the splendour of the Crown. Indeed, I have found very few persons
disposed to so ungenerous a procedure. But the generality of people, it
must be confessed, do feel a good deal mortified, when they compare the
wants of the Court with its expenses. They do not behold the cause of
this distress in any part of the apparatus of Royal magnificence. In all
this, they see nothing but the operations of parsimony, attended with all
the consequences of profusion. Nothing expended, nothing saved. Their
wonder is increased by their knowledge, that besides the revenue settled
on his Majesty's Civil List to the amount of 800,000 pounds a year, he
has a farther aid, from a large pension list, near 90,000 pounds a year,
in Ireland; from the produce of the Duchy of Lancaster (which we are told
has been greatly improved); from the revenue of the Duchy of Cornwall;
from the American quit-rents; from the four and a half per cent. duty in
the Leeward Islands; this last worth to be sure considerably more than
40,000 pounds a year. The whole is certainly not much short of a million
annually.
These are revenues within the knowledge and cognizance of our national
Councils. We have no direct right to examine into the receipts from his
Majesty's German Dominions, and the Bishopric of Osnaburg. This is
unquestionably true. But that which is not within the province of
Parliament, is yet within the sphere of every man's own reflection. If a
foreign Prince resided amongst us, the state of his revenues could not
fail of becoming the subject of our speculation. Filled with an anxious
concern for whatever regards the welfare of our Sovereign, it is
impossible, in considering the miserable circumstances into which he has
been brought, that this obvious topic should be entirely passed over.
There is an opinion universal, that these revenues produce something not
inconsiderable, clear of all charges and establishments. This produce
the people do not believe to be hoarded, nor perceive to be spent. It is
accounted for in the only manner it can, by supposing that it is drawn
away, for the support of that Court faction, which, whilst it distresses
the nation, impoverishes the Prince in every one of his resources. I
once more caution the reader, that I do not urge this consideration
concerning the foreign revenue, as if I supposed we had a direct right to
examine into the expenditure of any part of it; but solely for the
purpose of showing how little this system of Favouritism has been
advantageous to the Monarch himself; which, without magnificence, has
sunk him into a state of unnatural poverty; at the same time that he
possessed every means of affluence, from ample revenues, both in this
country and in other parts of his dominions.
Has this system provided better for the treatment becoming his high and
sacred character, and secured the King from those disgusts attached to
the necessity of employing men who are not personally agreeable? This is
a topic upon which for many reasons I could wish to be silent; but the
pretence of securing against such causes of uneasiness, is the corner-
stone of the Court party. It has however so happened, that if I were to
fix upon any one point, in which this system has been more particularly
and shamefully blameable, the effects which it has produced would justify
me in choosing for that point its tendency to degrade the personal
dignity of the Sovereign, and to expose him to a thousand contradictions
and mortifications. It is but too evident in what manner these
projectors of Royal greatness have fulfilled all their magnificent
promises. Without recapitulating all the circumstances of the reign,
every one of which is more or less a melancholy proof of the truth of
what I have advanced, let us consider the language of the Court but a few
years ago, concerning most of the persons now in the external
Administration: let me ask, whether any enemy to the personal feelings of
the Sovereign, could possibly contrive a keener instrument of
mortification, and degradation of all dignity, than almost every part and
member of the present arrangement? Nor, in the whole course of our
history, has any compliance with the will of the people ever been known
to extort from any Prince a greater contradiction to all his own declared
affections and dislikes, than that which is now adopted, in direct
opposition to every thing the people approve and desire.
An opinion prevails, that greatness has been more than once advised to
submit to certain condescensions towards individuals, which have been
denied to the entreaties of a nation. For the meanest and most dependent
instrument of this system knows, that there are hours when its existence
may depend upon his adherence to it; and he takes his advantage
accordingly. Indeed it is a law of nature, that whoever is necessary to
what we have made our object, is sure, in some way, or in some time or
other, to become our master. All this however is submitted to, in order
to avoid that monstrous evil of governing in concurrence with the opinion
of the people. For it seems to be laid down as a maxim, that a King has
some sort of interest in giving uneasiness to his subjects: that all who
are pleasing to them, are to be of course disagreeable to him: that as
soon as the persons who are odious at Court are known to be odious to the
people, it is snatched at as a lucky occasion of showering down upon them
all kinds of emoluments and honours. None are considered as well-wishers
to the Crown, but those who advised to some unpopular course of action;
none capable of serving it, but those who are obliged to call at every
instant upon all its power for the safety of their lives. None are
supposed to be fit priests in the temple of Government, but the persons
who are compelled to fly into it for sanctuary. Such is the effect of
this refined project; such is ever the result of all the contrivances
which are used to free men from the servitude of their reason, and from
the necessity of ordering their affairs according to their evident
interests. These contrivances oblige them to run into a real and ruinous
servitude, in order to avoid a supposed restraint that might be attended
with advantage.
If therefore this system has so ill answered its own grand pretence of
saving the King from the necessity of employing persons disagreeable to
him, has it given more peace and tranquillity to his Majesty's private
hours? No, most certainly. The father of his people cannot possibly
enjoy repose, while his family is in such a state of distraction. Then
what has the Crown or the King profited by all this fine-wrought scheme?
Is he more rich, or more splendid, or more powerful, or more at his ease,
by so many labours and contrivances? Have they not beggared his
Exchequer, tarnished the splendour of his Court, sunk his dignity, galled
his feelings, discomposed the whole order and happiness of his private
life?
It will be very hard, I believe, to state in what respect the King has
profited by that faction which presumptuously choose to call themselves
_his friends_.
If particular men had grown into an attachment, by the distinguished
honour of the society of their Sovereign, and, by being the partakers of
his amusements, came sometimes to prefer the gratification of his
personal inclinations to the support of his high character, the thing
would be very natural, and it would be excusable enough. But the
pleasant part of the story is, that these _King's friends_ have no more
ground for usurping such a title, than a resident freeholder in
Cumberland or in Cornwall. They are only known to their Sovereign by
kissing his hand, for the offices, pensions, and grants into which they
have deceived his benignity. May no storm ever come, which will put the
firmness of their attachment to the proof; and which, in the midst of
confusions and terrors, and sufferings, may demonstrate the eternal
difference between a true and severe friend to the Monarchy, and a
slippery sycophant of the Court; _Quantum infido scurrae distabit
amicus_!
* * * * *
So far I have considered the effect of the Court system, chiefly as it
operates upon the executive Government, on the temper of the people and
on the happiness of the Sovereign. It remains that we should consider,
with a little attention, its operation upon Parliament.
Parliament was indeed the great object of all these politics, the end at
which they aimed, as well as the instrument by which they were to
operate. But, before Parliament could be made subservient to a system,
by which it was to be degraded from the dignity of a national council,
into a mere member of the Court, it must be greatly changed from its
original character.
In speaking of this body, I have my eye chiefly on the House of Commons.
I hope I shall be indulged in a few observations on the nature and
character of that assembly; not with regard to its _legal form and
power_, but to its _spirit_, and to the purposes it is meant to answer in
the constitution.
The House of Commons was supposed originally to be _no part of the
standing Government of this country_. It was considered as a control,
issuing immediately from the people, and speedily to be resolved into the
mass from whence it arose. In this respect it was in the higher part of
Government what juries are in the lower. The capacity of a magistrate
being transitory, and that of a citizen permanent, the latter capacity it
was hoped would of course preponderate in all discussions, not only
between the people and the standing authority of the Crown, but between
the people and the fleeting authority of the House of Commons itself. It
was hoped that, being of a middle nature between subject and Government,
they would feel with a more tender and a nearer interest everything that
concerned the people, than the other remoter and more permanent parts of
Legislature.
Whatever alterations time and the necessary accommodation of business may
have introduced, this character can never be sustained, unless the House
of Commons shall be made to bear some stamp of the actual disposition of
the people at large. It would (among public misfortunes) be an evil more
natural and tolerable, that the House of Commons should be infected with
every epidemical frenzy of the people, as this would indicate some
consanguinity, some sympathy of nature with their constituents, than that
they should in all cases be wholly untouched by the opinions and feelings
of the people out of doors. By this want of sympathy they would cease to
be a House of Commons. For it is not the derivation of the power of that
House from the people, which makes it in a distinct sense their
representative. The King is the representative of the people; so are the
Lords; so are the Judges. They all are trustees for the people, as well
as the Commons; because no power is given for the sole sake of the
holder; and although Government certainly is an institution of Divine
authority, yet its forms, and the persons who administer it, all
originate from the people.
A popular origin cannot therefore be the characteristical distinction of
a popular representative. This belongs equally to all parts of
Government, and in all forms. The virtue, spirit, and essence of a House
of Commons consists in its being the express image of the feelings of the
nation. It was not instituted to be a control upon the people, as of
late it has been taught, by a doctrine of the most pernicious tendency.
It was designed as a control _for_ the people. Other institutions have
been formed for the purpose of checking popular excesses; and they are, I
apprehend, fully adequate to their object. If not, they ought to be made
so. The House of Commons, as it was never intended for the support of
peace and subordination, is miserably appointed for that service; having
no stronger weapon than its Mace, and no better officer than its Serjeant-
at-Arms, which it can command of its own proper authority. A vigilant
and jealous eye over executory and judicial magistracy; an anxious care
of public money, an openness, approaching towards facility, to public
complaint; these seem to be the true characteristics of a House of
Commons. But an addressing House of Commons, and a petitioning nation; a
House of Commons full of confidence, when the nation is plunged in
despair; in the utmost harmony with Ministers, whom the people regard
with the utmost abhorrence; who vote thanks, when the public opinion
calls upon them for impeachments; who are eager to grant, when the
general voice demands account; who, in all disputes between the people
and Administration, presume against the people; who punish their
disorder, but refuse even to inquire into the provocations to them; this
is an unnatural, a monstrous state of things in this constitution. Such
an Assembly may be a great, wise, awful senate; but it is not, to any
popular purpose, a House of Commons. This change from an immediate state
of procuration and delegation to a course of acting as from original
power, is the way in which all the popular magistracies in the world have
been perverted from their purposes. It is indeed their greatest and
sometimes their incurable corruption. For there is a material
distinction between that corruption by which particular points are
carried against reason (this is a thing which cannot be prevented by
human wisdom, and is of less consequence), and the corruption of the
principle itself. For then the evil is not accidental, but settled. The
distemper becomes the natural habit.
For my part, I shall be compelled to conclude the principle of Parliament
to be totally corrupted, and therefore its ends entirely defeated, when I
see two symptoms: first, a rule of indiscriminate support to all
Ministers; because this destroys the very end of Parliament as a control,
and is a general previous sanction to misgovernment; and secondly, the
setting up any claims adverse to the right of free election; for this
tends to subvert the legal authority by which the House of Commons sits.
I know that, since the Revolution, along with many dangerous, many useful
powers of Government have been weakened. It is absolutely necessary to
have frequent recourse to the Legislature. Parliaments must therefore
sit every year, and for great part of the year. The dreadful disorders
of frequent elections have also necessitated a septennial instead of a
triennial duration. These circumstances, I mean the constant habit of
authority, and the infrequency of elections, have tended very much to
draw the House of Commons towards the character of a standing Senate. It
is a disorder which has arisen from the cure of greater disorders; it has
arisen from the extreme difficulty of reconciling liberty under a
monarchical Government, with external strength and with internal
tranquillity.
It is very clear that we cannot free ourselves entirely from this great
inconvenience; but I would not increase an evil, because I was not able
to remove it; and because it was not in my power to keep the House of
Commons religiously true to its first principles, I would not argue for
carrying it to a total oblivion of them. This has been the great scheme
of power in our time. They who will not conform their conduct to the
public good, and cannot support it by the prerogative of the Crown, have
adopted a new plan. They have totally abandoned the shattered and old-
fashioned fortress of prerogative, and made a lodgment in the stronghold
of Parliament itself. If they have any evil design to which there is no
ordinary legal power commensurate, they bring it into Parliament. In
Parliament the whole is executed from the beginning to the end. In
Parliament the power of obtaining their object is absolute, and the
safety in the proceeding perfect: no rules to confine, no after
reckonings to terrify. Parliament cannot with any great propriety punish
others for things in which they themselves have been accomplices. Thus
the control of Parliament upon the executory power is lost; because
Parliament is made to partake in every considerable act of Government.
_Impeachment_, _that great guardian of the purity of the Constitution_,
_is in danger of being lost_, _even to the idea of it_.
By this plan several important ends are answered to the Cabal. If the
authority of Parliament supports itself, the credit of every act of
Government, which they contrive, is saved; but if the act be so very
odious that the whole strength of Parliament is insufficient to recommend
it, then Parliament is itself discredited; and this discredit increases
more and more that indifference to the constitution, which it is the
constant aim of its enemies, by their abuse of Parliamentary powers, to
render general among the people. Whenever Parliament is persuaded to
assume the offices of executive Government, it will lose all the
confidence, love, and veneration which it has ever enjoyed, whilst it was
supposed the _corrective_ and _control_ of the acting powers of the
State. This would be the event, though its conduct in such a perversion
of its functions should be tolerably just and moderate; but if it should
be iniquitous, violent, full of passion, and full of faction, it would be
considered as the most intolerable of all the modes of tyranny.
For a considerable time this separation of the representatives from their
constituents went on with a silent progress; and had those, who conducted
the plan for their total separation, been persons of temper and abilities
any way equal to the magnitude of their design, the success would have
been infallible; but by their precipitancy they have laid it open in all
its nakedness; the nation is alarmed at it; and the event may not be
pleasant to the contrivers of the scheme. In the last session, the corps
called the _King's friends_ made a hardy attempt all at once, _to alter
the right of election itself_; to put it into the power of the House of
Commons to disable any person disagreeable to them from sitting in
Parliament, without any other rule than their own pleasure; to make
incapacities, either general for descriptions of men, or particular for
individuals; and to take into their body, persons who avowedly had never
been chosen by the majority of legal electors, nor agreeably to any known
rule of law.
The arguments upon which this claim was founded and combated, are not my
business here. Never has a subject been more amply and more learnedly
handled, nor upon one side, in my opinion, more satisfactorily; they who
are not convinced by what is already written would not receive conviction
_though one arose from the dead_.
I too have thought on this subject; but my purpose here, is only to
consider it as a part of the favourite project of Government; to observe
on the motives which led to it; and to trace its political consequences.