CHAPTER IX.

WRITERS ON GOVERNMENT.

The hinge of the controversies on government which agitated England in

the seventeenth century, and produced the great treatises of Locke and

Algernon Sidney, was a feeble book by Sir Robert Filmer, a Cavalier,

written about the end of the Civil War, but published at a period which

brings it within the scope of this volume. Filmer, though not a man of

conspicuous mental power, was able to discern that the right of the

nation to resist the arbitrary encroachments of Charles I. could not

well be disputed so long as it continued to be held that 'Mankind is

naturally endowed and born with freedom from all subjection, and at

liberty to choose what form of government it please, and that the power

which any one man hath over others was at first bestowed according to

the discretion of the multitude.' This opinion, which he admits to be

that generally held, he endeavours to overthrow by the argument that no

man was ever born in a state of freedom, for everyone comes into the

world subject to the authority of his parents. 'Not only Adam, but the

succeeding patriarchs had, by right of fatherhood, royal authority over

their children.' How they came to have royal authority over the children

of other patriarchs Filmer does not explain; and it seems obvious on his

own showing that either this latter authority does not exist, in which

case there must be as many monarchies as families, or that it exists in

virtue of a mutual contract among individual families; so that royal

authority derives from the people after all. Illogical, however, as

Filmer might be, his views were too agreeable to the Court and to the

supporters of absolute power not to find much encouragement, and men of

first-rate powers found it necessary to take the field against them.

Seldom indeed has a writer of such slender abilities made so much stir,

or unintentionally laid the cause of liberty and reason under such deep

obligations. As a measure of his own qualifications, it is sufficient to

state that he seriously takes Samuel's dissuasion of the Israelites from

setting up a monarchy on the ground of the oppressions to which they

would subject themselves, for a luminous exposition of the rights of the

sovereign and the duties of the subject.

Filmer was answered by three writers of great distinction--Locke,

Algernon Sidney, and the Rev. George Johnson, a memorable pamphleteer

who scarcely vindicates a place for himself in literature. The merit of

their polemic, and the obligation under which it has placed posterity,

must of necessity be ill appreciated by an age which finds it difficult

to believe that Filmer could ever be thought to require an answer. The

propositions that the first man was invested by Heaven with monarchical

privileges, and that these privileges had in some manner devolved on

King Charles I., seem to us so palpably absurd that Locke himself

appears chargeable with folly for having spent his time in refuting

them. The steady intellectual upheaval which has been going on ever

since the revival of letters has lifted us into a region where the

conceptions of divine right and non-resistance cannot live; and we are

inclined to attribute to the improvement of our understandings what

really proceeds from the alteration of our environment. Ideas as

baseless as Filmer's are now daily advanced, and daily combated by

opponents whose services will one day be requited by the neglect that

has overtaken Locke. Had Locke been a wit, he might indeed have

immortalized himself and his antagonist together; but although he can

and does make the latter ridiculous, he cannot make him amusing. There

is more vitality in the second of his two _Tracts on Government_, for

this in part deals with speculative questions regarding the origin of

civil society as yet unsettled, and therefore not as yet commonplace.

Locke deduces the mutual relations and obligations of rulers and ruled

from a contract which he supposes to have been entered into in the

infancy of society. The theory was highly salutary for the age,

abolishing all superstitious notions of divine right, and providing

sufficient justification for popular resistance to evil rulers. It must

be owned, however, that it lacked the only safe basis of theory, the

historical; the constitutions of uncivilized man were little known in

Locke's day, and the better known they have become the less affinity

they have seemed to present to the parliament which his imagination

transported back from Westminster to Shinar. His essay nevertheless

represents a necessary phase in the development of opinion, and exerted

the most beneficial influence in generating the enlightened political

sentiment of the eighteenth century. It is amusing to remark that, in

spite of the Israelites, Locke stoutly refuses his imaginary society the

right to contract itself out of its freedom by establishing an absolute

monarchy, the only form of government which, according to his opponents,

could be legitimate in any sense.

Algernon Sidney's _Discourse on Government_ has attracted less attention

than Locke's, mainly because it claims more. So elaborate and ambitious

a work was not required to crush Filmer, who had in fact been crushed by

Locke some years before the appearance of Sidney's belated refutation.

It is nevertheless a more interesting work than Locke's, partly from the

fineness of the style, a noble specimen of dignified though vehement

English prose, partly from the reflection of the striking personality of

the author, 'a Roman in un-Roman times.' Though a patrician both on the

father's and the mother's side, Sidney was theoretically a republican.

Born in 1622, second son of the Earl of Leicester, he had served the

Commonwealth in the Civil War, and distinguished himself afterwards by

his resistance to what he deemed the usurpation of Cromwell. The

Restoration found him envoy to the northern courts. Exchanging embassy

for exile, he remained abroad until 1677, when he returned under an

engagement to live quietly. Whether he had any actual concern in the Rye

House plot is one of the problems of history; certain it is that no good

evidence was produced, and that he was iniquitously condemned on the

testimony of one witness of infamous character, and of papers in his

handwriting written years before. These seem to have formed part of a

brief reply to Filmer, never published; the stately work that has come

down to us was written after the publication of Filmer's manuscript in

1680, and was evidently prompted by the debates on the Exclusion Bill.

The style precisely corresponds to the author's character, haughty,

fiery, and arrogant; but thrilling with conviction, and meriting the

highest praise as a specimen of masculine, nervous, and at the same time

polished English. Much additional zest is imparted to the author's

argument by his continual strokes at the political abuses and the

unworthy characters of his own day, from Charles II. downwards. He had

the advantage of writing under the stimulus of fiery indignation kindled

and maintained by the actual existence of a tyranny. He is thus never

tame, and depicts himself as one of that remarkable class of men of

whom Alfieri is perhaps the most characteristic type--aristocrats by

temperament, champions of democracy by intellectual conviction.[10]

Although the controversy in which he engaged now belongs entirely to the

past, he is often modern in sentiment as well as in style; sometimes we

are reminded of Shelley, at other times, and more frequently, of Landor.

It certainly indicates some want of good sense to have written so

grandiose a reply to a tract so diminutive in every point of view, and

most will be contented with his biographer's, Miss Blackburne's,

excellent analysis. As a fine writer, however, Sidney has a right to a

place in any collection of Restoration prose:

'No man can be my judge, unless he be my superior; and he

cannot be my superior, who is not so by my consent, nor to any

other purpose than I consent to. This cannot be the case of a

nation, which can have no equal within itself. Controversies

may arise with other nations, the decision of which may be left

to judges chosen by mutual agreement; but this relates not to

our question. A nation, and especially one that is powerful,

cannot recede from its own right, as a private man, from the

knowledge of his own weakness, and inability to defend himself,

must come under the protection of a greater power than his own.

The strength of a nation is not in the magistrate, but the

strength of the magistrate is in the nation. The wisdom,

industry, and valour of a prince may add to the glory and

greatness of a nation, but the foundation and substance will

always be in itself. If the magistrate and people were upon

equal terms, as Caius and Sejus, receiving equal and mutual

advantages from each other, no man could be judge of their

differences, but such as they should set up for that end. This

has been done by many nations. The ancient Germans referred the

decision of the most difficult matters to their priests; the

Gauls and Britons to the Druids; the Mahometans for some ages

to the caliphs of Babylon; the Saxons in England, when they had

embraced the Christian religion, to their clergy. Whilst all

Europe lay under the popish superstition, the decision of such

matters was frequently assumed by the pope: men often submitted

to his judgment, and the princes that resisted were for the

most part excommunicated, deposed and destroyed. All this was

done for the same reasons. These men were accounted holy and

inspired, and the sentence pronounced by them was usually

reverenced as the judgment of God, who was thought to direct

them; and all those who refused to submit were esteemed

execrable. But no man or number of men, as I think, at the

institution of a magistrate, did ever say, if any difference

happen between you or your successors and us, it shall be

determined by yourself, or by them, whether they be men, women,

children, mad, foolish, or vicious. Nay, if any such thing had

been, the folly, turpitude, and madness of such a sanction or

stipulation must necessarily have destroyed it. But if no such

thing was ever known, or could have no effect, if it had been

in any place, it is most absurd to impose it upon all. The

people therefore cannot be deprived of their natural rights

upon a frivolous pretence to that which never was, and never

can be. They who create magistracies, and give to them such

name, form, and power, as they think fit, do only know, whether

the end for which they were created be performed or not. They

who give a being to the power which had none can only judge,

whether it be employed to their welfare, or turned to their

ruin. They do not set up one or a few men, that they and their

posterity may live in splendour and greatness, but that justice

may be administered, virtue established, and provision made for

the public safety. No wise man will think this can be done, if

those who set themselves to overthrow the law are to be their

own judges.'

Sir William Temple, in an essay on government written in 1672, arrives

at substantially the same conclusion as Sidney by a different path.

Fletcher of Saltoun, the illustrious Scottish patriot, wrote _An

Account of a Conversation for a right Regulation of Governments_ (1704).

The development of the English periodical press during the Restoration

epoch is a matter of such moment that the two men principally connected

with it cannot be left unnoticed, although, at least in one instance,

their claim to rank as men of letters is very slender. Marchamont

Needham (1620-1678) had scarcely any other character than that of a

pamphleteer who only escaped the designation of hired scribbler by his

political infidelities and a certain rough effectiveness in his

ephemeral writings. This 'most seditious, mutable, and railing author's'

position in the history of the press is nevertheless important; for if

not the first strictly professional journalist, he is the first whose

name has descended to posterity. Having from 1641 to 1647 made war

against the king in his _Mercurius Britannicus_, he changed sides and

wrote as a royalist in _Mercurius Pragmaticus_, recanted again and

supported Cromwell as the conductor of _Mercurius Politicus_; and, after

a short exile, ultimately made his peace with the Restoration. He had

already excited the animosity of the stricter Puritans, one of whom thus

anticipated and refuted the best plea that could be made for him: 'He is

a man of parts, and hath a notable vein of writing. Doubtless so hath

the Devil; must therefore the Devil be made use of?' He subsequently

made war upon schoolmasters and physicians, and died suddenly as he was

about returning to his old trade of political pamphleteer. Roger

L'Estrange (1616-1704) was a man of much higher character, being a

consistent royalist. His connection with the periodical press in Charles

II.'s day was brief, lasting only from 1663 to 1666, when his

_Intelligencer_ and _News_ were extinguished by the appearance of an

official journal, the _Oxford_, afterwards the _London Gazette_. But he

has a permanent place in history as the first 'able editor,' who not

only made his journal the vehicle for political discussions, and availed

himself of regular news-letters, but employed a regular staff of

assistants to collect news. He was no friend to his own trade, for he

says in a prospectus: 'Supposing the press in order, the people in their

right wits, and news or no news to be the question, a public Mercury

should never have my vote, because I think it makes the multitude too

familiar with the actions and counsels of their superiors, too

pragmatical and censorious, and gives them not only a wish but a kind of

colourable right and licence to the meddling with the government.' A man

who thought thus must have seemed admirably qualified for the office of

licenser of the press, which he held from 1663 to the Revolution, and in

the discharge of which he inevitably accumulated the odium which even

now somewhat undeservedly rests upon his memory. In 1681 he returned to

newspaper editing, and successfully carried on _Heraclitus Ridens_ and

_The Observator_ until March, 1687, when James II., who was enacting

liberty of conscience to serve his own ends, silenced the old Cavalier

just as the latter was demonstrating this liberty to be 'a paradox

against law, reason, nature, and religion.' L'Estrange's prose style is

bad, but he was the author of several useful translations, of which

those from AEsop, Josephus, Quevedo, and Erasmus are the best known. He

was a courtly and well-bred man, of considerable culture, and would be

mentioned with more respect if he had not exercised a function

detestable to the entire republic of letters. Dr. Johnson regarded him

as the first writer upon record who regularly enlisted himself under the

banners of a party for pay, and fought for it through right and wrong.

This is probably correct as a mere statement of fact, but unjust if it

was intended to imply any doubt of the purity of L'Estrange's motives

in serving the high monarchical party, or of the sincerity of his

advocacy of its principles.

The _Political Arithmetic_ of Sir William Petty (1623-1687), and the

_Discourse of Trade_ of Sir Josiah Child (1630-1699), take high rank

among economic publications, but can scarcely be regarded as

literature.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] Sidney and his friends are frequently taxed with having accepted

money from France. It is worth noting that their conduct in so doing is

vindicated by so powerful and, in this instance, so unprejudiced a

reasoner as Warburton, in an unpublished letter to Balguy now before us.

The Age of Dryden · 第 9 / 16 章