Men must, therefore, endeavour to palliate what they cannot cure. They

must institute some persons under the appellation of magistrates, whose

peculiar office it is to point out the decrees of equity, to punish

transgressors, to correct fraud and violence, and to oblige men, however

reluctant, to consult their own real and permanent interests. In a word,

obedience is a new duty which must be invented to support that of

justice, and the ties of equity must be corroborated by those of

allegiance.

But still, viewing matters in an abstract light, it may be thought that

nothing is gained by this alliance, and that the factitious duty of

obedience, from its very nature, lays as feeble a hold of the human

mind, as the primitive and natural duty of justice. Peculiar interests

and present temptations may overcome the one as well as the other. They

are equally exposed to the same inconvenience; and the man who is

inclined to be a bad neighbour, must be led by the same motives, well

or ill understood, to be a bad citizen or subject. Not to mention, that

the magistrate himself may often be negligent, or partial, or unjust in

his administration.

Experience, however, proves that there is a great difference between the

cases. Order in society, we find, is much better maintained by means of

government; and our duty to the magistrate is more strictly guarded by

the principles of human nature, than our duty to our fellow-citizens.

The love of dominion, is so strong in the breast of man, that many not

only submit to, but court all the dangers, and fatigues, and cares of

government; and men, once raised to that station, though often led

astray by private passions, find, in ordinary cases, a visible interest

in the impartial administration of justice. The persons who first attain

this distinction, by the consent, tacit or express, of the people, must

be endowed with superior personal qualities of valour, force, integrity,

or prudence, which command respect and confidence; and, after government

is established, a regard to birth, rank, and station, has a mighty

influence over men, and enforces the decrees of the magistrate. The

prince or leader exclaims against every disorder which disturbs his

society. He summons all his partisans and all men of probity to aid him

in correcting and redressing it, and he is readily followed by all

indifferent persons in the execution of his office. He soon acquires the

power of rewarding these services; and in the progress of society, he

establishes subordinate ministers, and often a military force, who find

an immediate and a visible interest in supporting his authority. Habit

soon consolidates what other principles of human nature had imperfectly

founded; and men, once accustomed to obedience, never think of departing

from that path, in which they and their ancestors have constantly trod,

and to which they are confined by so many urgent and visible motives.

But though this progress of human affairs may appear certain and

inevitable, and though the support which allegiance brings to justice be

founded on obvious principles of human nature, it cannot be expected

that men should beforehand be able to discover them, or foresee their

operation. Government commences more casually and more imperfectly. It

is probable, that the first ascendent of one man over multitudes began

during a state of war; where the superiority of courage and of genius

discovers itself most visibly, where unanimity and concert are most

requisite, and where the pernicious effects of disorder are most

sensibly felt. The long continuance of that state, an incident common

among savage tribes, inured the people to submission; and if the

chieftain possessed as much equity as prudence and valour, he became,

even during peace, the arbiter of all differences, and could gradually,

by a mixture of force and consent, establish his authority. The benefit

sensibly felt from his influence, made it be cherished by the people, at

least by the peaceable and well disposed among them; and if his son

enjoyed the same good qualities, government advanced the sooner to

maturity and perfection; but was still in a feeble state, till the

further progress of improvement procured the magistrate a revenue, and

enabled him to bestow rewards on the several instruments of his

administration, and to inflict punishments on the refractory and

disobedient. Before that period, each exertion of his influence must

have been particular, and founded on the peculiar circumstances of the

case. After it, submission was no longer a matter of choice in the bulk

of the community, but was rigorously exacted by the authority of the

supreme magistrate.

In all governments, there is a perpetual intestine struggle, open or

secret, between Authority and Liberty, and neither of them can ever

absolutely prevail in the contest. A great sacrifice of liberty must

necessarily be made in every government; yet even the authority, which

confines liberty, can never, and perhaps ought never, in any

constitution, to become quite entire and uncontrollable. The sultan is

master of the life and fortune of any individual; but will not be

permitted to impose new taxes on his subjects: a French monarch can

impose taxes at pleasure; but would find it dangerous to attempt the

lives and fortunes of individuals. Religion also, in most countries, is

commonly found to be a very intractable principle; and other principles

or prejudices frequently resist all the authority of the civil

magistrate; whose power, being founded on opinion, can never subvert

other opinions equally rooted with that of his title to dominion. The

government, which, in common appellation, receives the appellation of

free, is that which admits of a partition of power among several

members, whose united authority is no less, or is commonly greater, than

that of any monarch; but who, in the usual course of administration,

must act by general and equal laws, that are previously known to all the

members, and to all their subjects. In this sense, it must be owned,

that liberty is the perfection of civil society; but still authority

must be acknowledged essential to its very existence: and in those

contests which so often take place between the one and the other, the

latter may, on that account, challenge the preference. Unless perhaps

one may say (and it may be said with some reason) that a circumstance,

which is essential to the existence of civil society, must always

support itself, and needs be guarded with less jealousy, than one that

contributes only to its perfection, which the indolence of men is so apt

to neglect, or their ignorance to overlook.

OF THE INDEPENDENCY OF PARLIAMENT[1]

Political writers have established it as a maxim, that, in contriving

any system of government, and fixing the several checks and controls of

the constitution, every man ought to be supposed a _knave_, and to have

no other end, in all his actions, than private interest. By this

interest we must govern him, and, by means of it, make him,

notwithstanding his insatiable avarice and ambition, cooperate to public

good. Without this, say they, we shall in vain boast of the advantages

of any constitution, and shall find, in the end, that we have no

security for our liberties or possessions, except the good-will of our

rulers; that is, we shall have no security at all.

It is, therefore, a just _political_ maxim, _that every man must be

supposed a knave_; though, at the same time, it appears somewhat

strange, that a maxim should be true in _politics_ which is false in

_fact_. But to satisfy us on this head, we may consider, that men are

generally more honest in their private than in their public capacity,

and will go greater lengths to serve a party, than when their own

private interest is alone concerned. Honour is a great check upon

mankind: but where a considerable body of men act together, this check

is in a great measure removed, since a man is sure to be approved of by

his own party, for what promotes the common interest; and he soon learns

to despise the clamours of adversaries. To which we may add, that every

court or senate is determined by the greater number of voices; so that,

if self-interest influences only the majority (as it will always do),

the whole senate follows the allurements of this separate interest, and

acts as if it contained not one member who had any regard to public

interest and liberty.

When there offers, therefore, to our censure and examination, any plan

of government, real or imaginary, where the power is distributed among

several courts, and several orders of men, we should always consider the

separate interest of each court, and each order; and if we find that, by

the skilful division of power, this interest must necessarily, in its

operation, concur with the public, we may pronounce that government to

be wise and happy. If, on the contrary, separate interest be not

checked, and be not directed to the public, we ought to look for nothing

but faction, disorder, and tyranny from such a government. In this

opinion I am justified by experience, as well as by the authority of

all philosophers and politicians, both ancient and modern.

How much, therefore, would it have surprised such a genius as Cicero or

Tacitus, to have been told, that in a future age there should arise a

very regular system of _mixed_ government, where the authority was so

distributed, that one rank, whenever it pleased, might swallow up all

the rest, and engross the whole power of the constitution! Such a

government, they would say, will not be a mixed government. For so great

is the natural ambition of men, that they are never satisfied with

power; and if one order of men, by pursuing its own interest, can usurp

upon every other order, it will certainly do so, and render itself, as

far as possible, absolute and uncontrollable.

But, in this opinion, experience shows they would have been mistaken.

For this is actually the case with the British constitution. The share

of power allotted by our constitution to the House of Commons, is so

great, that it absolutely commands all the other parts of the

government. The king's legislative power is plainly no proper check to

it. For though the king has a negative in framing laws, yet this, in

fact, is esteemed of so little moment, that whatever is voted by the two

Houses, is always sure to pass into a law, and the royal assent is

little better than a form. The principal weight of the crown lies in the

executive; power. But, besides that the executive power in every

government is altogether subordinate to the legislative; besides this, I

say, the exercise of this power requires an immense expense, and the

Commons have assumed to themselves the sole right of granting money. How

easy, therefore, would it be for that house to wrest from the crown all

these powers, one after another, by making every grant conditional, and

choosing their time so well, that their refusal of supply should only

distress the government, without giving foreign powers any advantage

over us! Did the House of Commons depend in the same manner upon the

king, and had none of the members any property but from his gift, would

not he command all their resolutions, and be from that moment absolute?

As to the House of Lords, they are a very powerful support to the crown,

so long as they are, in their turn, supported by it; but both experience

and reason show, that they have no force or authority sufficient to

maintain themselves alone, without such support.

How, therefore, shall we solve this paradox? And by what means is this

member of our constitution confined within the proper limits, since,

from our very constitution, it must necessarily have as much power as it

demands, and can only be confined by itself? How is this consistent with

our experience of human nature? I answer, that the interest of the body

is here restrained by that of the individuals, and that the House of

Commons stretches not its power, because such an usurpation would be

contrary to the interest of the majority of its members. The crown has

so many offices at its disposal, that, when assisted by the honest and

disinterested part of the House, it will always command the resolutions

of the whole, so far, at least, as to preserve the ancient constitution

from danger. We may, therefore, give to this influence what name we

please; we may call it by the invidious appellations of _corruption_ and

_dependence_; but some degree and some kind of it are inseparable from

the very nature of the constitution, and necessary to the preservation

of our mixed government.

Instead, then, of asserting absolutely, that the dependence of

parliament, in every degree, is an infringement of British liberty, the

country party should have made some concessions to their adversaries,

and have only examined what was the proper degree of this dependence,

beyond which it became dangerous to liberty. But such a moderation is

not to be expected in party men of any kind. After a concession of this

nature, all declamation must be abandoned; and a calm inquiry into the

proper degree of court influence and parliamentary dependence would have

been expected by the readers. And though the advantage, in such a

controversy, might possibly remain to the _country party_, yet the

victory would not be so complete as they wish for, nor would a true

patriot have given an entire loose to his zeal, for fear of running

matters into a contrary extreme, by diminishing too[2] far the

influence of the crown. It was, therefore, thought best to deny that

this extreme could ever be dangerous to the constitution, or that the

crown could ever have too little influence over members of parliament.

All questions concerning the proper medium between extremes are

difficult to be decided; both because it is not easy to find _words_

proper to fix this medium, and because the good and ill, in such cases,

run so gradually into each other, as even to render our _sentiments_

doubtful and uncertain. But there is a peculiar difficulty in the

present case, which would embarrass the most knowing and most impartial

examiner. The power of the crown is always lodged in a single person,

either king or minister; and as this person may have either a greater or

less degree of ambition, capacity, courage, popularity, or fortune, the

power, which is too great in one hand, may become too little in another.

In pure republics, where the authority is distributed among several

assemblies or senates, the checks and controls are more regular in their

operation; because the members of such numerous assemblies may be

presumed to be always nearly equal in capacity and virtue; and it is

only their number, riches, or authority, which enter into consideration.

But a limited monarchy admits not of any such stability; nor is it

possible to assign to the crown such a determinate degree of power, as

will, in every hand, form a proper counterbalance to the other parts of

the constitution. This is an unavoidable disadvantage, among the many

advantages attending that species of government.

[1] I have frequently observed, in comparing the conduct of the _court_

and _country_ party, that the former are commonly less assuming and

dogmatical in conversation, more apt to make concessions, and though

not, perhaps, more susceptible of conviction, yet more able to bear

contradiction than the latter, who are apt to fly out upon any

opposition, and to regard one as a mercenary, designing fellow, if he

argues with any coolness and impartiality, or makes any concessions to

their adversaries. This is a fact, which, I believe, every one may have

observed who has been much in companies where political questions have

been discussed; though, were one to ask the reason of this difference,

every party would be apt to assign a different reason. Gentlemen in the

_opposition_ will ascribe it to the very nature of their party, which,

being founded on public spirit, and a zeal for the constitution, cannot

easily endure such doctrines as are of pernicious consequence to

liberty. The courtiers, on the other hand, will be apt to put us in mind

of the clown mentioned by Lord Shaftesbury. 'A clown,' says that

excellent author, 'once took a fancy to hear the _Latin_ disputes of

doctors at an university. He was asked what pleasure he could take in

viewing such combatants, when he could never know so much as which of

the parties had the better.'--_'For that matter,'_ replied the clown,

_'I a'n't such a fool neither, but I can see who's the first that puts

t'other into a passion.'_ Nature herself dictated this lesson to the

clown, that he who had the better of the argument would be easy and well

humoured: but he who was unable to support his cause by reason would

naturally lose his temper, and grow violent.

To which of these reasons will we adhere? To neither of them, in my

opinion, unless we have a mind to enlist ourselves and become zealots in

either party. I believe I can assign the reason of this different

conduct of the two parties, without offending either. The country party

are plainly most popular at present, and perhaps have been so in most

administrations so that, being accustomed to prevail in company, they

cannot endure to hear their opinions controverted, but are so confident

on the public favour, as if they were supported in all their sentiments

by the most infallible demonstration. The courtiers, on the other hand,

are Commonly run down by your popular talkers, that if you speak to them

with any moderation, or make them the smallest concessions, they think

themselves extremely obliged to you, and are apt to return the favour by

a like moderation and facility on their part. To be furious and

passionate, they know, would only gain them the character of shameless

mercenaries, not that of zealous patriots, which is the character that

such a warm behaviour is apt to acquire to the other party.

In all controversies, we find, without regarding the truth or falsehood

on either side, that those who defend the established and popular

opinions are always most dogmatical and imperious in their style: while

their adversaries affect almost extraordinary gentleness and moderation,

in order to soften, as much as possible, any prejudices that may be

Against them. Consider the behaviour of our _Freethinkers_ of all

denominations, whether they be such as decry all revelation, or only

oppose the exorbitant power of the clergy, Collins, Tindal, Foster,

Hoadley. Compare their moderation and good manners with the furious zeal

and scurrility of their adversaries, and you will be convinced of the

truth of my observation. A like difference may be observed in the

conduct of those French writers, who maintained the controversy with

regard to ancient and modern learning. Boileau, Monsieur and Madame

Dacier, l'Abbé de Bos, who defended the party of the ancients, mixed

their reasonings with satire and invective, while Fontenelle, la Motte,

Charpentier, and even Perrault, never transgressed the bounds of

moderation and good breeding, though provoked by the most injurious

treatment of their adversaries.

I must however observe, that this remark with regard to the seeming

moderation of the _court_ party, is entirely confined to conversation,

and to gentlemen who have been engaged by interest or inclination in

that party. For as to the court writers, being commonly hired

scribblers, they are altogether as scurrilous as the mercenaries of the

other party: nor has the _Gazetteer_ any advantage, in this respect,

above common sense. A man of education will, in any party, discover

himself to be such by his goodbreeding and decency, as a scoundrel will

always betray the opposite qualities. _The false accusers accused_, &c.

is very scurrilous, though that side of the question, being least

popular, should be defended with most moderation. When L--d B--e, L--d

M--t, Mr. L--n, take the pen in hand, though they write with warmth,

they presume not upon their popularity so far as to transgress the

bounds of decency.

I am led into this train of reflection by considering some papers wrote

upon that grand topic of _court influence and parliamentary dependence_,

where, in my humble opinion, the country party show too rigid an

inflexibility, and too great a jealousy of making concessions to their

adversaries. Their reasonings lose their force by being carried too far

and the popularity of their opinions has seduced them to neglect in some

measure their justness and solidity. The following reasoning will, I

hope, serve to justify me in this opinion.

[2] By that _influence of the crown_, which I would justify, I mean only

that which arises from the offices and honours that are at the disposal

of the crown. As to private _bribery_, it may be considered in the same

light as the practice of employing spies, which is scarcely justifiable

in a good minister, and is infamous in a bad one; but to be a spy, or to

be corrupted, is always infamous under all ministers, and is to be

regarded as a shameless prostitution. Polybius justly esteems the

pecuniary influence of the senate and censors to be one of the regular

and constitutional weights which preserved the balance of the Roman

government.--Lib. vi. cap. 15.

WHETHER THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT INCLINES MORE TO ABSOLUTE MONARCHY OR TO

A REPUBLIC

It affords a violent prejudice against almost every science, that no

prudent man, however sure of his principles, dares prophesy concerning

any event, or foretell the remote consequences of things. A physician

will not venture to pronounce concerning the condition of his patient a

fortnight or a month after: and still less dares a politician foretell

the situation of public affairs a few years hence. Harrington thought

himself so sure of his general principle, _that the balance of power

depends on that of property_, that he ventured to pronounce it

impossible ever to reestablish monarchy in England: but his book was

scarcely published when the king was restored; and we see that monarchy

has ever since subsisted upon the same footing as before.

Notwithstanding this unlucky example, I will venture to examine an

important question, to wit, _Whether the British Government inclines

more to absolute monarchy or to a republic; and in which of these two

species of government it will most probably terminate?_ As there seems

not to be any great danger of a sudden revolution either way, I shall

at least escape the shame attending my temerity, if I should be found to

have been mistaken.

Those who assert that the balance of our government inclines towards

absolute monarchy, may support their opinion by the following reasons:

That property has a great influence on power cannot possibly be denied;

but yet the general maxim, _that the balance of the one depends on the

balance of the other_, must be received with several limitations. It is

evident, that much less property in a single hand will be able to

counterbalance a greater property in several; not only because it is

difficult to make many persons combine in the same views and measures,

but because property, when united, causes much greater dependence than

the same property when dispersed. A hundred persons of £1,000 a year

apiece, can consume all their income, and nobody shall ever be the

better for them, except their servants and tradesmen, who justly regard

their profits as the product of their own labour. But a man possessed of

£100,000 a year, if he has either any generosity or any cunning, may

create a great dependence by obligations, and still a greater by

expectations. Hence we may observe, that, in all free governments, any

subject exorbitantly rich has always created jealousy, even though his

riches bore no proportion to those of the state. Crassus's fortune, if I

remember well, amounted only to about two millions and a half of our

money; yet we find, that though his genius was nothing extraordinary,

he was able, by means of his riches alone, to counterbalance, during his

lifetime, the power of Pompey, as well as that of Cæsar, who afterwards

became master of the world. The wealth of the Medici made them masters

of Florence, though it is probable it was not considerable, compared to

the united property of that opulent republic.

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