As to our commerce, the imports and exports of the nation, now

six-and-forty million, did not then amount to ten. The inland trade,

which is commonly passed by in this sort of estimates, but which, in

part growing out of the foreign, and connected with it, is more

advantageous and more substantially nutritive to the state, is not only

grown in a proportion of near five to one as the foreign, but has been

augmented at least in a tenfold proportion. When I came to England, I

remember but one river navigation, the rate of carriage on which was

limited by an act of Parliament. It was made in the reign of William the

Third. I mean that of the Aire and Calder. The rate was settled at

thirteen pence. So high a price demonstrated the feebleness of these

beginnings of our inland intercourse. In my time, one of the longest and

sharpest contests I remember in your House, and which rather resembled a

violent contention amongst national parties than a local dispute, was,

as well as I can recollect, to hold the price up to threepence. Even

this, which a very scanty justice to the proprietors required, was done

with infinite difficulty. As to private credit, there were not, as I

believe, twelve bankers' shops at that time out of London. In this their

number, when I first saw the country, I cannot be quite exact; but

certainly those machines of domestic credit were then very few. They are

now in almost every market-town: and this circumstance (whether the

thing be carried to an excess or not) demonstrates the astonishing

increase of private confidence, of general circulation, and of internal

commerce,--an increase out of all proportion to the growth of the

foreign trade. Our naval strength in the time of King William's war was

nearly matched by that of France; and though conjoined with Holland,

then a maritime power hardly inferior to our own, even with that force

we were not always victorious. Though finally superior, the allied

fleets experienced many unpleasant reverses on their own element. In two

years three thousand vessels were taken from the English trade. On the

Continent we lost almost every battle we fought.

In 1697, (it is not quite an hundred years ago,) in that state of

things, amidst the general debasement of the coin, the fall of the

ordinary revenue, the failure of all the extraordinary supplies, the

ruin of commerce, and the almost total extinction of an infant credit,

the Chancellor of the Exchequer himself, whom we have just seen begging

from door to door, came forward to move a resolution full of vigor, in

which, far from being discouraged by the generally adverse fortune and

the long continuance of the war, the Commons agreed to address the crown

in the following manly, spirited, and truly animating style:--

"This is the EIGHTH year in which your Majesty's most dutiful and loyal

subjects, the Commons in Parliament assembled, have assisted your

Majesty with large supplies for carrying on a just and necessary war, in

defence of our religion, preservation of our laws, and vindication of

the rights and liberties of the people of England."

Afterwards they proceed in this manner:--

"And to show to your Majesty and all Christendom that the Commons of

England will not be _amused_ or diverted from their firm resolutions of

obtaining by WAR a safe and honorable peace, we do, in the name of all

those we represent, renew our assurances to your Majesty that this House

will support your Majesty and your government against all your enemies,

both at home and abroad, and that they will effectually assist you in

the prosecution and carrying on the present war against France."

The amusement and diversion they speak of was the suggestion of a treaty

_proposed by the enemy_, and announced from the throne. Thus the people

of England felt in the _eighth_, not in the _fourth_ year of the war. No

sighing or panting after negotiation; no motions from the opposition to

force the ministry into a peace; no messages from ministers to palsy and

deaden the resolution of Parliament or the spirit of the nation. They

did not so much as advise the king to listen to the propositions of the

enemy, nor to seek for peace, but through the mediation of a vigorous

war. This address was moved in an hot, a divided, a factious, and, in a

great part, disaffected House of Commons; and it was carried, _nemine

contradicente_.

While that first war (which was ill smothered by the Treaty of Ryswick)

slept in the thin ashes of a seeming peace, a new conflagration was in

its immediate causes. A fresh and a far greater war was in preparation.

A year had hardly elapsed, when arrangements were made for renewing the

contest with tenfold fury. The steps which were taken, at that time, to

compose, to reconcile, to unite, and to discipline all Europe against

the growth of France, certainly furnish to a statesman the finest and

most interesting part in the history of that great period. It formed the

masterpiece of King William's policy, dexterity, and perseverance. Full

of the idea of preserving not only a local civil liberty united with

order to our country, but to embody it in the political liberty, the

order, and the independence of nations united under a natural head, the

king called upon his Parliament to put itself into a posture "_to

preserve to England the weight and influence it at present had on the

councils and affairs_ ABROAD. It will be requisite _Europe_ Should see

you will not be wanting to yourselves."

Baffled as that monarch was, and almost heartbroken at the

disappointment he met with in the mode he first proposed for that great

end, he held on his course. He was faithful to his object; and in

councils, as in arms, over and over again repulsed, over and over again

he returned to the charge. All the mortifications he had suffered from

the last Parliament, and the greater he had to apprehend from that newly

chosen, were not capable of relaxing the vigor of his mind. He was in

Holland when he combined the vast plan of his foreign negotiations. When

he came to open his design to his ministers in England, even the sober

firmness of Somers, the undaunted resolution of Shrewsbury, and the

adventurous spirit of Montagu and Orford were staggered. They were not

yet mounted to the elevation of the king. The cabinet, then the regency,

met on the subject at Tunbridge Wells, the 28th of August, 1698; and

there, Lord Somers holding the pen, after expressing doubts on the state

of the Continent, which they ultimately refer to the king, as best

informed, they give him a most discouraging portrait of the spirit of

this nation. "So far as relates to England," say these ministers, "it

would be want of duty not to give your Majesty this clear account: that

there is _a deadness and want of spirit in the nation universally_, so

as not at all to be disposed to _the thought of entering into a new

war_; and that they seem to be _tired out with taxes_ to a degree beyond

what was discerned, till it appeared upon the occasion of _the late

elections_. This is the truth of the fact, upon which your Majesty will

determine what resolutions are proper to be taken."

His Majesty did determine,--and did take and pursue his resolution. In

all the tottering imbecility of a new government, and with Parliament

totally unmanageable, he persevered. He persevered to expel the fears of

his people by his fortitude, to steady their fickleness by his

constancy, to expand their narrow prudence by his enlarged wisdom, to

sink their factious temper in his public spirit. In spite of his people,

he resolved to make them great and glorious,--to make England, inclined

to shrink into her narrow self, the arbitress of Europe, the tutelary

angel of the human race. In spite of the ministers, who staggered under

the weight that his mind imposed upon theirs, unsupported as they felt

themselves by the popular spirit, he infused into them his own soul, he

renewed in them their ancient heart, he rallied them in the same cause.

It required some time to accomplish this work. The people were first

gained, and, through them, their distracted representatives. Under the

influence of King William, Holland had rejected the allurements of every

seduction, and had resisted the terrors of every menace. With Hannibal

at her gates, she had nobly and magnanimously refused all separate

treaty, or anything which might for a moment appear to divide her

affection or her interest or even to distinguish her in identity from

England. Having settled the great point of the consolidation (which he

hoped would be eternal) of the countries made for a common interest and

common sentiment, the king, in his message to both Houses, calls their

attention to the affairs of the _States General_. The House of Lords

was perfectly sound, and entirely impressed with the wisdom and dignity

of the king's proceedings. In answer to the message, which you will

observe was narrowed to a single point, (the danger of the States

General,) after the usual professions of zeal for his service, the Lords

opened themselves at large. They go far beyond the demands of the

message. They express themselves as follows.

"We take this occasion _further_ to assure your Majesty we are very

sensible of _the great and imminent danger to which the States General

are at present exposed; and we do perfectly agree with them in believing

that their safety and ours are so inseparably united that whatsoever is

ruin to the one must be fatal to the other_.

"And we humbly desire your Majesty will be pleased _not only_ to make

good all the articles of any _former_ treaty to the States General, but

that you will enter into a strict league offensive and defensive with

them _for our common preservation; and that you will invite into it all

princes and states who are concerned in the present visible danger

arising from the union of France and Spain_.

"And we further desire your Majesty, that you will be pleased to enter

into such alliances with the _Emperor_ as your Majesty shall think fit,

pursuant to the ends of the treaty of 1689: towards all which we assure

your Majesty of our hearty and sincere assistance; not doubting, but,

whenever your Majesty shall be obliged to engage for the defence of your

allies, _and for securing the liberty and quiet of Europe_, Almighty God

will protect your sacred person in so righteous a cause, and that the

unanimity, wealth, and courage of your subjects will carry your Majesty

with honor and success _through all the difficulties of a_ JUST WAR."

The House of Commons was more reserved. The late popular disposition was

still in a great degree prevalent in the representative, after it had

been made to change in the constituent body. The principle of the Grand

Alliance was not directly recognized in the resolution of the Commons,

nor the war announced, though they were well aware the alliance was

formed for the war. However, compelled by the returning sense of the

people, they went so far as to fix the three great immovable pillars of

the safety and greatness of England, as they were then, as they are now,

and as they must ever be to the end of time. They asserted in general

terms the necessity of supporting Holland, of keeping united with our

allies, and maintaining the liberty of Europe; though they restricted

their vote to the succors stipulated by actual treaty. But now they were

fairly embarked, they were obliged to go with the course of the vessel;

and the whole nation, split before into an hundred adverse factions,

with a king at its head evidently declining to his tomb, the whole

nation, lords, commons, and people, proceeded as one body informed by

one soul. Under the British union, the union of Europe was consolidated;

and it long held together with a degree of cohesion, firmness, and

fidelity not known before or since in any political combination of that

extent.

Just as the last hand was given to this immense and complicated machine,

the master workman died. But the work was formed on true mechanical

principles, and it was as truly wrought. It went by the impulse it had

received from the first mover. The man was dead; but the Grand Alliance

survived, in which King William lived and reigned. That heartless and

dispirited people, whom Lord Somers had represented about two years

before as dead in energy and operation, continued that war, to which it

was supposed they were unequal in mind and in means, for near thirteen

years.

For what have I entered into all this detail? To what purpose have I

recalled your view to the end of the last century? It has been done to

show that the British nation was then a great people,--to point out how

and by what means they came to be exalted above the vulgar level, and to

take that lead which they assumed among mankind. To qualify us for that

preëminence, we had then an high mind and a constancy unconquerable; we

were then inspired with no flashy passions, but such as were durable as

well as warm, such as corresponded to the great interests we had at

stake. This force of character was inspired, as all such spirit must

ever be, from above. Government gave the impulse. As well may we fancy

that of itself the sea will swell, and that without winds the billows

will insult the adverse shore, as that the gross mass of the people will

be moved, and elevated, and continue by a steady and permanent direction

to bear upon one point, without the influence of superior authority or

superior mind.

This impulse ought, in my opinion, to have been given in this war; and

it ought to have been continued to it at every instant. It is made, if

ever war was made, to touch all the great springs of action in the human

breast. It ought not to have been a war of apology. The minister had, in

this conflict, wherewithal to glory in success, to be consoled in

adversity, to hold high his principle in all fortunes. If it were not

given him to support the falling edifice, he ought to bury himself under

the ruins of the civilized world. All the art of Greece and all the

pride and power of Eastern monarchs never heaped upon their ashes so

grand a monument.

There were days when his great mind was up to the crisis of the world he

is called to act in.[29] His manly eloquence was equal to the elevated

wisdom of such sentiments. But the little have triumphed over the great:

an unnatural, (as it should seem,) not an unusual victory. I am sure you

cannot forget with how much uneasiness we heard, in conversation, the

language of more than one gentleman at the opening of this

contest,--"that he was willing to try the war for a year or two, and, if

it did not succeed, then to vote for peace." As if war was a matter of

experiment! As if you could take it up or lay it down as an idle frolic!

As if the dire goddess that presides over it, with her murderous spear

in her hand and her Gorgon at her breast, was a coquette to be flirted

with! We ought with reverence to approach that tremendous divinity, that

loves courage, but commands counsel. War never leaves where it found a

nation. It is never to be entered into without a mature

deliberation,--not a deliberation lengthened out into a perplexing

indecision, but a deliberation leading to a sure and fixed judgment.

When so taken up, it is not to be abandoned without reason as valid, as

fully and as extensively considered. Peace may be made as unadvisedly as

war. Nothing is so rash as fear; and the counsels of pusillanimity very

rarely put off, whilst they are always sure to aggravate, the evils

from which they would fly.

In that great war carried on against Louis the Fourteenth for near

eighteen years, government spared no pains to satisfy the nation, that,

though they were to be animated by a desire of glory, glory was not

their ultimate object; but that everything dear to them, in religion, in

law, in liberty, everything which as freemen, as Englishmen, and as

citizens of the great commonwealth of Christendom, they had at heart,

was then at stake. This was to know the true art of gaining the

affections and confidence of an high-minded people; this was to

understand human nature. A danger to avert a danger, a present

inconvenience and suffering to prevent a foreseen future and a worse

calamity,--these are the motives that belong to an animal who in his

constitution is at once adventurous and provident, circumspect and

daring,--whom his Creator has made, as the poet says, "of large

discourse, looking before and after." But never can a vehement and

sustained spirit of fortitude be kindled in a people by a war of

calculation. It has nothing that can keep the mind erect under the gusts

of adversity. Even where men are willing, as sometimes they are, to

barter their blood for lucre, to hazard their safety for the

gratification of their avarice, the passion which animates them to that

sort of conflict, like all the shortsighted passions, must see its

objects distinct and near at hand. The passions of the lower order are

hungry and impatient. Speculative plunder,--contingent spoil,--future,

long adjourned, uncertain booty,--pillage which must enrich a late

posterity, and which possibly may not reach to posterity at all,--these,

for any length of time, will never support a mercenary war. The people

are in the right. The calculation of profit in all such wars is false.

On balancing the account of such wars, ten thousand hogsheads of sugar

are purchased at ten thousand times their price. The blood of man should

never be shed but to redeem the blood of man. It is well shed for our

family, for our friends, for our God, for our country, for our kind. The

rest is vanity; the rest is crime.

In the war of the Grand Alliance most of these considerations

voluntarily and naturally had their part. Some were pressed into the

service. The political interest easily went in the track of the natural

sentiment. In the reverse course the carriage does not follow freely. I

am sure the natural feeling, as I have just said, is a far more

predominant ingredient in this war than in that of any other that ever

was waged by this kingdom.

If the war made to prevent the union of two crowns upon one head was a

just war, this, which is made to prevent the tearing all crowns from all

heads which ought to wear them, and with the crowns to smite off the

sacred heads themselves, this is a just war.

If a war to prevent Louis the Fourteenth from imposing his religion was

just, a war to prevent the murderers of Louis the Sixteenth from

imposing their irreligion upon us is just: a war to prevent the

operation of a system which makes life without dignity and death without

hope is a just war.

If to preserve political independence and civil freedom to nations was a

just ground of war, a war to preserve national independence, property,

liberty, life, and honor from certain universal havoc is a war just

necessary, manly, pious; and we are bound to persevere in it by every

principle, divine and human, as long as the system which menaces them

all, and all equally, has an existence in the world.

You, who have looked at this matter with as fair and impartial an eye as

can be united with a feeling heart, you will not think it an hardy

assertion, when I affirm that it were far better to be conquered by any

other nation than to have this faction for a neighbor. Before I felt

myself authorized to say this, I considered the state of all the

countries in Europe for these last three hundred years, which have been

obliged to submit to a foreign law. In most of those I found the

condition of the annexed countries even better, certainly not worse,

than the lot of those which were the patrimony of the conqueror. They

wanted some blessings, but they were free from many very great evils.

They were rich and tranquil. Such was Artois, Flanders, Lorraine,

Alsatia, under the old government of France. Such was Silesia under the

King of Prussia. They who are to live in the vicinity of this new fabric

are to prepare to live in perpetual conspiracies and seditions, and to

end at last in being conquered, if not to her dominion, to her

resemblance. But when we talk of conquest by other nations, it is only

to put a case. This is the only power in Europe by which it is

_possible_ we should be conquered. To live under the continual dread of

such immeasurable evils is itself a grievous calamity. To live without

the dread of them is to turn the danger into the disaster. The influence

of such a France is equal to a war, its example more wasting than an

hostile irruption. The hostility with any other power is separable and

accidental: this power, by the very condition of its existence, by its

very essential constitution, is in a state of hostility with us, and

with all civilized people.[30]

A government of the nature of that set up at our very door has never

been hitherto seen or even imagined in Europe. What our relation to it

will be cannot be judged by other relations. It is a serious thing to

have a connection with a people who live only under positive, arbitrary,

and changeable institutions,--and those not perfected nor supplied nor

explained by any common, acknowledged rule of moral science. I remember,

that, in one of my last conversations with the late Lord Camden, we were

struck much in the same manner with the abolition in France of the law

as a science of methodized and artificial equity. France, since her

Revolution, is under the sway of a sect whose leaders have deliberately,

at one stroke, demolished the whole body of that jurisprudence which

France had pretty nearly in common with other civilized countries. In

that jurisprudence were contained the elements and principles of the law

of nations, the great ligament of mankind. With the law they have of

course destroyed all seminaries in which jurisprudence was taught, as

well as all the corporations established for its conservation. I have

not heard of any country, whether in Europe or Asia, or even in Africa

on this side of Mount Atlas, which is wholly without some such colleges

and such corporations, except France. No man, in a public or private

concern, can divine by what rule or principle her judgments are to be

directed: nor is there to be found a professor in any university, or a

practitioner in any court, who will hazard an opinion of what is or is

not law in France, in any case whatever. They have not only annulled all

their old treaties, but they have renounced the law of nations, from

whence treaties have their force. With a fixed design they have outlawed

themselves, and to their power outlawed all other nations.

Instead of the religion and the law by which they were in a great

politic communion with the Christian world, they have constructed their

republic on three bases, all fundamentally opposite to those on which

the communities of Europe are built. Its foundation is laid in Regicide,

in Jacobinism, and in Atheism; and it has joined to those principles a

body of systematic manners which secures their operation.

If I am asked how I would be understood in the use of these terms,

Regicide, Jacobinism, Atheism, and a system of correspondent manners,

and their establishment, I will tell you.

I call a commonwealth _Regicide_ which lays it down as a fixed law of

Nature and a fundamental right of man, that all government, not being a

democracy, is an usurpation,[31]--that all kings, as such, are usurpers,

and, for being kings, may and ought to be put to death, with their

wives, families, and adherents. The commonwealth which acts uniformly

upon those principles, and which, after abolishing every festival of

religion, chooses the most flagrant act of a murderous regicide treason

for a feast of eternal commemoration, and which forces all her people to

observe it,--this I call _Regicide by Establishment_.

Jacobinism is the revolt of the enterprising talents of a country

against its property. When private men form themselves into associations

for the purpose of destroying the preëxisting laws and institutions of

their country,--when they secure to themselves an army by dividing

amongst the people of no property the estates of the ancient and lawful

proprietors,--when a state recognizes those acts,--when it does not make

confiscations for crimes, but makes crimes for confiscations,--when it

has its principal strength and all its resources in such a violation of

property,--when it stands chiefly upon such a violation, massacring by

judgments, or otherwise, those who make any struggle for their old legal

government, and their legal, hereditary, or acquired possessions,--I

call this _Jacobinism by Establishment_.

The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. 05 (of 12) · 第 19 / 34 段