satisfaction to my constituents with regard to the part I have taken in
this affair. It gave me inexpressible concern to find that my conduct
had been a cause of uneasiness to any of them. Next to my honor and
conscience, I have nothing so near and dear to me as their approbation.
However, I had much rather run the risk of displeasing than of injuring
them,--if I am driven to make such an option. You obligingly lament that
you are not to have me for your advocate; but if I had been capable of
acting as an advocate in opposition to a plan so perfectly consonant to
my known principles, and to the opinions I had publicly declared on an
hundred occasions, I should only disgrace myself, without supporting,
with the smallest degree of credit or effect, the cause you wished me to
undertake. I should have lost the only thing which can make such
abilities as mine of any use to the world now or hereafter: I mean that
authority which is derived from an opinion that a member speaks the
language of truth and sincerity, and that he is not ready to take up or
lay down a great political system for the convenience of the hour, that
he is in Parliament to support his opinion of the public good, and does
not form his opinion in order to get into Parliament, or to continue in
it. It is in a great measure for your sake that I wish to preserve this
character. Without it, I am sure, I should be ill able to discharge, by
any service, the smallest part of that debt of gratitude and affection
which I owe you for the great and honorable trust you have reposed in
me.
I am, with the highest regard and esteem, Sir,
Your most obedient and humble servant,
E.B.
BEACONSFIELD, 23rd April, 1778.
* * * * *
COPY OF A LETTER TO MESSRS. ******* ****** AND CO., BRISTOL.
Gentlemen,--
It gives me the most sensible concern to find that my vote on the
resolutions relative to the trade of Ireland has not been fortunate
enough to meet with your approbation. I have explained at large the
grounds of my conduct on that occasion in my letters to the Merchants'
Hall; but my very sincere regard and esteem for you will not permit me
to let the matter pass without an explanation which is particular to
yourselves, and which I hope will prove satisfactory to you.
You tell me that the conduct of your late member is not much wondered
at; but you seem to be at a loss to account for mine; and you lament
that I have taken so decided a part _against_ my constituents.
This is rather an heavy imputation. Does it, then, really appear to you
that the propositions to which you refer are, on the face of them, so
manifestly wrong, and so certainly injurious to the trade and
manufactures of Great Britain, and particularly to yours, that no man
could think of proposing or supporting them, except from resentment to
you, or from some other oblique motive? If you suppose your late
member, or if you suppose me, to act upon other reasons than we choose
to avow, to what do you attribute the conduct of the _other_ members,
who in the beginning almost unanimously adopted those resolutions? To
what do you attribute the strong part taken by the ministers, and, along
with the ministers, by several of their most declared opponents? This
does not indicate a ministerial job, a party design, or a provincial or
local purpose. It is, therefore, not so absolutely clear that the
measure is wrong, or likely to be injurious to the true interests of any
place or any person.
The reason, Gentlemen, for taking this step, at this time, is but too
obvious and too urgent. I cannot imagine that you forget the great war
which has been carried on with so little success (and, as I thought,
with so little policy) in America, or that you are not aware of the
other great wars which are impending. Ireland has been called upon to
repel the attacks of enemies of no small power, brought upon her by
councils in which she has had no share. The very purpose and declared
object of that original war, which has brought other wars and other
enemies on Ireland, was not very flattering to her dignity, her
interest, or to the very principle of her liberty. Yet she submitted
patiently to the evils she suffered from an attempt to subdue to _your_
obedience countries whose very commerce was not open to her. America was
to be conquered in order that Ireland should _not_ trade thither; whilst
the miserable trade which she is permitted to carry on to other places
has been torn to pieces in the struggle. In this situation, are we
neither to suffer her to have any real interest in our quarrel, or to
be flattered with the hope of any future means of bearing the burdens
which she is to incur in defending herself against enemies which we have
brought upon her?
I cannot set my face against such arguments. Is it quite fair to suppose
that I have no other motive for yielding to them but a desire of acting
_against_ my constituents? It is for _you_, and for _your_ interest, as
a dear, cherished, and respected part of a valuable whole, that I have
taken my share in this question. You do not, you cannot, suffer by it.
If honesty be true policy with regard to the transient interest of
individuals, it is much more certainly so with regard to the permanent
interests of communities. I know that it is but too natural for us to
see our own _certain_ ruin in the _possible_ prosperity of other people.
It is hard to persuade us that everything which is _got_ by another is
not _taken_ from ourselves. But it is fit that We should get the better
of these suggestions, which come from what is not the best and soundest
part of our nature, and that we should form to ourselves a way of
thinking, more rational, more just, and more religious. Trade is not a
limited thing: as if the objects of mutual demand and consumption could
not stretch beyond the bounds of our jealousies. God has given the earth
to the children of men, and He has undoubtedly, in giving it to them,
given them what is abundantly sufficient for all their exigencies: not a
scanty, but a most liberal, provision for them all. The Author of our
nature has written it strongly in that nature, and has promulgated the
same law in His written word, that man shall eat his bread by his labor;
and I am persuaded that no man, and no combination of men, for their own
ideas of their particular profit, can, without great impiety, undertake
to say that he _shall not_ do so,--that they have no sort of right
either to prevent the labor or to withhold the bread. Ireland having
received no _compensation_, directly or indirectly, for any restraints
on their trade, ought not, in justice or common honesty, to be made
subject to such restraints. I do not mean to impeach the right of the
Parliament of Great Britain to make laws for the trade of Ireland: I
only speak of what laws it is right for Parliament to make.
It is nothing to an oppressed people, to say that in part they are
protected at our charge. The military force which shall be kept up in
order to cramp the natural faculties of a people, and to prevent their
arrival to their utmost prosperity, is the instrument of their
servitude, not the means of their protection. To protect men is to
forward, and not to restrain, their improvement. Else, what is it more
than to avow to them, and to the world, that you guard them from others
only to make them a prey to yourself? This fundamental nature of
protection does not belong to free, but to all governments, and is as
valid in Turkey as in Great Britain. No government ought to own that it
exists for the purpose of checking the prosperity of its people, or that
there is such a principle involved in its policy.
Under the impression of these sentiments, (and not as wanting every
attention to my constituents which affection and gratitude could
inspire,) I voted for these bills which give you so much trouble. I
voted for them, not as doing complete justice to Ireland, but as being
something less unjust than the general prohibition which has hitherto
prevailed. I hear some discourse as if, in one or two paltry duties on
materials, Ireland had a preference, and that those who set themselves
against this act of scanty justice assert that they are only contending
for an _equality_. What equality? Do they forget that the whole woollen
manufacture of Ireland, the most extensive and profitable of any, and
the natural staple of that kingdom, has been in a manner so destroyed by
restrictive laws of ours, and (at our persuasion, and on our promises)
by restrictive laws of _their own_, that in a few years, it is probable,
they will not be able to wear a coat of their own fabric? Is this
equality? Do gentlemen forget that the understood faith upon which they
were persuaded to such an unnatural act has not been kept,--but a
linen-manufacture has been set up, and highly encouraged, against them?
Is this equality? Do they forget the state of the trade of Ireland in
beer, so great an article of consumption, and which now stands in so
mischievous a position with regard to their revenue, their manufacture,
and their agriculture? Do they find any equality in all this? Yet, if
the least step is taken towards doing them common justice in the
slightest articles for the most limited markets, a cry is raised, as if
we were going to be ruined by partiality to Ireland.
Gentlemen, I know that the deficiency in these arguments is made up (not
by you, but by others) by the usual resource on such occasions, the
confidence in military force and superior power. But that ground of
confidence, which at no time was perfectly just, or the avowal of it
tolerably decent, is at this time very unseasonable. Late experience has
shown that it cannot be altogether relied upon; and many, if not all, of
our present difficulties have arisen from putting our trust in what may
very possibly fail, and, if it should fail, leaves those who are hurt by
such a reliance without pity. Whereas honesty and justice, reason and
equity, go a very great way in securing prosperity to those who use
them, and, in case of failure, secure the best retreat and the most
honorable consolations.
It is very unfortunate that we should consider those as rivals, whom we
ought to regard as fellow-laborers in a common cause. Ireland has never
made a single step in its progress towards prosperity, by which you have
not had a share, and perhaps the greatest share, in the benefit. That
progress has been chiefly owing to her own natural advantages, and her
own efforts, which, after a long time, and by slow degrees, have
prevailed in some measure over the mischievous systems which have been
adopted. Far enough she is still from having arrived even at an ordinary
state of perfection; and if our jealousies were to be converted into
politics as systematically as some would have them, the trade of Ireland
would vanish out of the system of commerce. But, believe me, if Ireland
is beneficial to you, it is so not from the parts in which it is
restrained, but from those in which it is left free, though not left
unrivalled. The greater its freedom, the greater must be your advantage.
If you should lose in one way, you will gain in twenty.
Whilst I remain under this unalterable and powerful conviction, you will
not wonder at the _decided_ part I take. It is my custom so to do, when
I see my way clearly before me, and when I know that I am not misled by
any passion or any personal interest, which in this case I am very sure
I am not. I find that disagreeable things are circulated among my
constituents; and I wish my sentiments, which form my justification,
may be equally general with the circulation against me. I have the honor
to be, with the greatest regard and esteem, Gentlemen,
Your most obedient and humble servant,
E.B.
Westminster, May 2, 1778.
I send the bills.
SPEECH
ON PRESENTING TO THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
(ON THE 11TH FEBRUARY, 1780)
A PLAN
FOR
THE BETTER SECURITY OF THE INDEPENDENCE OF PARLIAMENT, AND THE
ECONOMICAL REFORMATION OF THE CIVIL AND OTHER ESTABLISHMENTS
Mr. Speaker,--I rise, in acquittal of my engagement to the House, in
obedience to the strong and just requisition of my constituents, and, I
am persuaded, in conformity to the unanimous wishes of the whole nation,
to submit to the wisdom of Parliament "A Plan of Reform in the
Constitution of Several Parts of the Public Economy."
I have endeavored that this plan should include, in its execution, a
considerable reduction of improper expense; that it should effect a
conversion of unprofitable titles into a productive estate; that it
should lead to, and indeed almost compel, a provident administration of
such sums of public money as must remain under discretionary trusts;
that it should render the incurring debts on the civil establishment
(which must ultimately affect national strength and national credit) so
very difficult as to become next to impracticable.
But what, I confess, was uppermost with me, what I bent the whole force
of my mind to, was the reduction of that corrupt influence which is
itself the perennial spring of all prodigality and of all
disorder,--which loads us more than millions of debt,--which takes away
vigor from our arms, wisdom from our councils, and every shadow of
authority and credit from the most venerable parts of our Constitution.
Sir, I assure you very solemnly, and with a very clear conscience, that
nothing in the world has led me to such an undertaking but my zeal for
the honor of this House, and the settled, habitual, systematic affection
I bear to the cause and to the principles of government.
I enter perfectly into the nature and consequences of my attempt, and I
advance to it with a tremor that shakes me to the inmost fibre of my
frame. I feel that I engage in a business, in itself most ungracious,
totally wide of the course of prudent conduct, and, I really think, the
most completely adverse that can be imagined to the natural turn and
temper of my own mind. I know that all parsimony is of a quality
approaching to unkindness, and that (on some person or other) every
reform must operate as a sort of punishment. Indeed, the whole class of
the severe and restrictive virtues are at a market almost too high for
humanity. What is worse, there are very few of those virtues which are
not capable of being imitated, and even outdone in many of their most
striking effects, by the worst of vices. Malignity and envy will carve
much more deeply, and finish much more sharply, in the work of
retrenchment, than frugality and providence. I do not, therefore, wonder
that gentlemen have kept away from such a task, as well from good-nature
as from prudence. Private feeling might, indeed, be overborne by
legislative reason; and a man of a long-sighted and a strong-nerved
humanity might bring himself not so much to consider from whom he takes
a superfluous enjoyment as for whom in the end he may preserve the
absolute necessaries of life.
But it is much more easy to reconcile this measure in humanity than to
bring it to any agreement with prudence. I do not mean that little,
selfish, pitiful, bastard thing which sometimes goes by the name of a
family in which it is not legitimate and to which it is a disgrace;--I
mean even that public and enlarged prudence, which, apprehensive of
being disabled from rendering acceptable services to the world,
withholds itself from those that are invidious. Gentlemen who are, with
me, verging towards the decline of life, and are apt to form their ideas
of kings from kings of former times, might dread the anger of a reigning
prince;--they who are more provident of the future, or by being young
are more interested in it, might tremble at the resentment of the
successor; they might see a long, dull, dreary, unvaried visto of
despair and exclusion, for half a century, before them. This is no
pleasant prospect at the outset of a political journey.
Besides this, Sir, the private enemies to be made in all attempts of
this kind are innumerable; and their enmity will be the more bitter, and
the more dangerous too, because a sense of dignity will oblige them to
conceal the cause of their resentment. Very few men of great families
and extensive connections but will feel the smart of a cutting reform,
in some close relation, some bosom friend, some pleasant acquaintance,
some dear, protected dependant. Emolument is taken from some; patronage
from others; objects of pursuit from all. Men forced into an involuntary
independence will abhor the authors of a blessing which in their eyes
has so very near a resemblance to a curse. When officers are removed,
and the offices remain, you may set the gratitude of some against the
anger of others, you may oppose the friends you oblige against the
enemies you provoke. But services of the present sort create no
attachments. The individual good felt in a public benefit is
comparatively so small, comes round through such an involved labyrinth
of intricate and tedious revolutions, whilst a present personal
detriment is so heavy, where it falls, and so instant in its operation,
that the cold commendation of a public advantage never was and never
will be a match for the quick sensibility of a private loss; and you may
depend upon it, Sir, that, when many people have an interest in railing,
sooner or later, they will bring a considerable degree of unpopularity
upon any measure. So that, for the present at least, the reformation
will operate against the reformers; and revenge (as against them at the
least) will produce all the effects of corruption.
This, Sir, is almost always the case, where the plan has complete
success. But how stands the matter in the mere attempt? Nothing, you
know, is more common than for men to wish, and call loudly too, for a
reformation, who, when it arrives, do by no means like the severity of
its aspect. Reformation is one of those pieces which must be put at some
distance in order to please. Its greatest favorers love it better in the
abstract than in the substance. When any old prejudice of their own, or
any interest that they value, is touched, they become scrupulous, they
become captious; and every man has his separate exception. Some pluck
out the black hairs, some the gray; one point must be given up to one,
another point must be yielded to another; nothing is suffered to prevail
upon its own principle; the whole is so frittered down and disjointed,
that scarcely a trace of the original scheme remains. Thus, between the
resistance of power, and the unsystematical process of popularity, the
undertaker and the undertaking are both exposed, and the poor reformer
is hissed off the stags both by friends and foes.
Observe, Sir, that the apology for my undertaking (an apology which,
though long, is no longer than necessary) is not grounded on my want of
the fullest sense of the difficult and invidious nature of the task I
undertake. I risk odium, if I succeed, and contempt, if I fail. My
excuse must rest in mine and your conviction of the absolute, urgent
_necessity_ there is that something of the kind should be done. If there
is any sacrifice to be made, either of estimation or of fortune, the
smallest is the best. Commanders-in-chief are not to be put upon the
forlorn hope. But, indeed, it is necessary that the attempt should be
made. It is necessary from our own political circumstances; it is
necessary from the operations of the enemy; it is necessary from the
demands of the people, whose desires, when they do not militate with the
stable and eternal rules of justice and reason, (rules which are above
us and above them,) ought to be as a law to a House of Commons.
As to our circumstances, I do not mean to aggravate the difficulties of
them by the strength of any coloring whatsoever. On the contrary, I
observe, and observe with pleasure, that our affairs rather wear a more
promising aspect than they did on the opening of this session. We have
had some leading successes. But those who rate them at the highest
(higher a great deal, indeed, than I dare to do) are of opinion, that,
upon the ground of such advantages, we cannot at this time hope to make
any treaty of peace which would not be ruinous and completely
disgraceful. In such an anxious state of things, if dawnings of success
serve to animate our diligence, they are good; if they tend to increase
our presumption, they are worse than defeats. The state of our affairs
shall, then, be as promising as any one may choose to conceive it: it
is, however, but promising. We must recollect, that, with but half of
our natural strength, we are at war against confederated powers who have
singly threatened us with ruin; we must recollect, that, whilst we are
left naked on one side, our other flank is uncovered by any alliance;
that, whilst we are weighing and balancing our successes against our
losses, we are accumulating debt to the amount of at least fourteen
millions in the year. That loss is certain.
I have no wish to deny that our successes are as brilliant as any one
chooses to make them; our resources, too, may, for me, be as
unfathomable as they are represented. Indeed, they are just whatever the
people possess and will submit to pay. Taxing is an easy business. Any
projector can contrive new impositions; any bungler can add to the old.
But is it altogether wise to have no other bounds to your impositions
than the patience of those who are to bear them?
All I claim upon the subject of your resources is this: that they are
not likely to be increased by wasting them. I think I shall be permitted
to assume that a system of frugality will not lessen your riches,
whatever they may be. I believe it will not be hotly disputed, that
those resources which lie heavy on the subject ought not to be objects
of preference,--that they ought not to be the _very first choice_, to an
honest representative of the people.
This is all, Sir, that I shall say upon our circumstances and our
resources: I mean to say a little more on the operations of the enemy,
because this matter seems to me very natural in our present
deliberation. When I look to the other side of the water, I cannot help
recollecting what Pyrrhus said, on reconnoitring the Roman camp:--"These
barbarians have nothing barbarous in their discipline." When I look, as
I have pretty carefully looked, into the proceedings of the French king,
I am sorry to say it, I see nothing of the character and genius of
arbitrary finance, none of the bold frauds of bankrupt power, none of
the wild struggles and plunges of despotism in distress,--no lopping off
from the capital of debt, no suspension of interest, no robbery under
the name of loan, no raising the value, no debasing the substance of the
coin. I see neither Louis the Fourteenth nor Louis the Fifteenth. On the
contrary, I behold, with astonishment, rising before me, by the very
hands of arbitrary power, and in the very midst of war and confusion, a
regular, methodical system of public credit; I behold a fabric laid on
the natural and solid foundations of trust and confidence among men, and
rising, by fair gradations, order over order, according to the just
rules of symmetry and art. What a reverse of things! Principle, method,
regularity, economy, frugality, justice to individuals, and care of the
people are the resources with which France makes war upon Great Britain.
God avert the omen! But if we should see any genius in war and politics
arise in France to second what is done in the bureau!--I turn my eyes
from the consequences.
The noble lord in the blue ribbon, last year, treated all this with
contempt. He never could conceive it possible that the French minister
of finance could go through that year with a loan of but seventeen
hundred thousand pounds, and that he should be able to fund that loan
without any tax. The second year, however, opens the very same scene. A
small loan, a loan of no more than two millions five hundred thousand
pounds, is to carry our enemies through the service of this year also.
No tax is raised to fund that debt; no tax is raised for the current
services. I am credibly informed that there is no anticipation
whatsoever. Compensations[31] are correctly made. Old debts continue to
be sunk as in the time of profound peace. Even payments which their
treasury had been authorized to suspend during the time of war are not
suspended.