the British spirit and love of liberty, since we could maintain our free
government, during so many centuries, against our sovereigns, who,
besides the power, and dignity, and majesty of the crown, have always
been possessed of much more property than any subject has ever enjoyed
in any commonwealth. But it may be said that this spirit, however great,
will never be able to support itself against that immense property which
is now lodged in the king, and which is still increasing. Upon a
moderate computation, there are near three millions a year at the
disposal of the crown. The civil list amounts to near a million; the
collection of all taxes to another; and the employments in the army and
navy, together with ecclesiastical preferments, to above a third
million:--an enormous sum, and what may fairly be computed to be more
than a thirtieth part of the whole income and labour of the kingdom.
When we add to this great property the increasing luxury of the nation,
our proneness to corruption, together with the great power and
prerogatives of the crown, and the command of military force, there is
no one but must despair of being able, without extraordinary efforts, to
support our free government much longer under these disadvantages.
On the other hand, those who maintain that the bias of the British
government leans towards a republic, may support their opinions by
specious arguments. It may be said, that though this immense property in
the crown be joined to the dignity of first magistrate, and to many
other legal powers and prerogatives, which should naturally give it
greater influence; yet it really becomes less dangerous to liberty upon
that very account. Were England a republic, and were any private man
possessed of a revenue, a third, or even a tenth part as large as that
of the crown, he would very justly excite jealousy; because he would
infallibly have great authority in the government. And such an irregular
authority, not avowed by the laws, is always more dangerous than a much
greater authority derived from them. A man possessed of usurped power
can set no bounds to his pretensions: his partisans have liberty to hope
for every thing in his favour: his enemies provoke his ambition with his
fears, by the violence of their opposition: and the government being
thrown into a ferment, every corrupted humour in the state naturally
gathers to him. On the contrary, a legal authority, though great, has
always some bounds, which terminate both the hopes and pretensions of
the person possessed of it: the laws must have provided a remedy against
its excesses: such an eminent magistrate has much to fear, and little to
hope, from his usurpations: and as his legal authority is quietly
submitted to, he has small temptation and small opportunity of extending
it further. Besides, it happens, with regard to ambitious aims and
projects, what may be observed with regard to sects of philosophy and
religion. A new sect excites such a ferment, and is both opposed and
defended with such vehemence, that it always spreads faster, and
multiplies its partisans with greater rapidity than any old established
opinion, recommended by the sanction of the laws and of antiquity. Such
is the nature of novelty, that, where any thing pleases, it becomes
doubly agreeable, if new: but if it displeases, it is doubly displeasing
upon that very account. And, in most cases, the violence of enemies is
favourable to ambitious projects, as well as the zeal of partisans.
It may further be said, that, though men be much governed by interest,
yet even interest itself, and all human affairs, are entirely governed
by _opinion_. Now, there has been a sudden and sensible change in the
opinions of men within these last fifty years, by the progress of
learning and of liberty. Most people in this Island have divested
themselves of all superstitious reverence to names and authority: the
clergy have much lost their credit: their pretensions and doctrines
have been ridiculed; and even religion can scarcely support itself in
the world. The mere name of _king_ commands little respect; and to talk
of a king as God's vicegerent on earth, or to give him any of those
magnificent titles which formerly dazzled mankind, would but excite
laughter in every one. Though the crown, by means of its large revenue,
may maintain its authority, in times of tranquillity, upon private
interest and influence, yet, as the least shock or convulsion must break
all these interests to pieces, the royal power, being no longer
supported by the settled principles and opinions of men, will
immediately dissolve. Had men been in the same disposition at the
_Revolution_, as they are at present, monarchy would have run a great
risk of being entirely lost in this Island.
Durst I venture to deliver my own sentiments amidst these opposite
arguments, I would assert, that, unless there happen some extraordinary
convulsion, the power of the crown, by means of its large revenue, is
rather upon the increase; though at the same time, I own that its
progress seems very slow, and almost insensible. The tide has run long,
and with some rapidity, to the side of popular government, and is just
beginning to turn towards monarchy.
It is well known, that every government must come to a period, and that
death is unavoidable to the political, as well as to the animal body.
But, as one kind of death may be preferable to another, it may be
inquired, whether it be more desirable for the British constitution to
terminate in a popular government, or in an absolute monarchy? Here I
would frankly declare, that though liberty be preferable to slavery, in
almost every case; yet I should rather wish to see an absolute monarch
than a republic in this Island. For let us consider what kind of
republic we have reason to expect. The question is not concerning any
fine imaginary republic, of which a man forms a plan in his closet.
There is no doubt but a popular government may be imagined more perfect
than an absolute monarchy, or even than our present constitution. But
what reason have we to expect that any such government will ever be
established in Great Britain, upon the dissolution of our monarchy? If
any single person acquire power enough to take our constitution to
pieces, and put it up anew, he is really an absolute monarch; and we
have already had an instance of this kind, sufficient to convince us,
that such a person will never resign his power, or establish any free
government. Matters, therefore, must be trusted to their natural
progress and operation; and the House of Commons, according to its
present constitution, must be the only legislature in such a popular
government. The inconveniences attending such a situation of affairs
present themselves by thousands. If the House of Commons, in such a
case, ever dissolve itself, which is not to be expected, we may look for
a civil war every election. If it continue itself, we shall suffer all
the tyranny of a faction sub-divided into new factions. And, as such a
violent government cannot long subsist, we shall, at last, after many
convulsions and civil wars, find repose in absolute monarchy, which it
would have been happier for us to have established peaceably from the
beginning. Absolute monarchy, therefore, is the easiest death, the true
_Euthanasia_ of the British constitution.
Thus, if we have reason to be more jealous of monarchy, because the
danger is more imminent from that quarter; we have also reason to be
more jealous of popular government, because that danger is more
terrible. This may teach us a lesson of moderation in all our political
controversies.
OF PARTIES IN GENERAL
Of all men that distinguish themselves by memorable achievements, the
first place of honour seems due to LEGISLATORS and founders of states,
who transmit a system of laws and institutions to secure the peace,
happiness, and liberty of future generations. The influence of useful
inventions in the arts and sciences may, perhaps, extend further than
that of wise laws, whose effects are limited both in time and place; but
the benefit arising from the former is not so sensible as that which
results from the latter. Speculative sciences do, indeed, improve the
mind, but this advantage reaches only to a few persons, who have leisure
to apply themselves to them. And as to practical arts, which increase
the commodities and enjoyments of life, it is well known that men's
happiness consists not so much in an abundance of these, as in the peace
and security with which they possess them: and those blessings can only
be derived from good government. Not to mention, that general virtue and
good morals in a state, which are so requisite to happiness, can never
arise from the most refined precepts of philosophy, or even the severest
injunctions of religion; but must proceed entirely from the virtuous
education of youth, the effect of wise laws and institutions. I must,
therefore, presume to differ from Lord Bacon in this particular, and
must regard antiquity as somewhat unjust in its distribution of honours,
when it made gods of all the inventors of useful arts, such as Ceres,
Bacchus, Æsculapius and dignified legislators, such as Romulus and
Theseus, only with the appellation of demigods and heroes.
As much as legislators and founders of states ought to be honoured and
respected among men, as much ought the founders of sects and factions to
be detested and hated; because the influence of faction is directly
contrary to that of laws. Factions subvert government, render laws
impotent, and beget the fiercest animosities among men of the same
nation, who ought to give mutual assistance and protection to each
other. And what should render the founders of parties more odious, is
the difficulty of extirpating these weeds, when once they have taken
root in any state. They naturally propagate themselves for many
centuries, and seldom end but by the total dissolution of that
government, in which they are sown. They are, besides, plants which grow
most plentiful in the richest soil; and though absolute governments be
not wholly free from them, it must be confessed, that they rise more
easily, and propagate themselves faster in free governments, where they
always infect the legislature itself, which alone could be able, by the
steady application of rewards and punishments, to eradicate them.
Factions may be divided into Personal and Real; that is, into factions
founded on personal friendship or animosity among such as compose the
contending parties, and into those founded on some real difference of
sentiment or interest. The reason of this distinction is obvious, though
I must acknowledge, that parties are seldom found pure and unmixed,
either of the one kind or the other. It is not often seen, that a
government divides into factions, where there is no difference in the
views of the constituent members, either real or apparent, trivial or
material: and in those factions, which are founded on the most real and
most material difference, there is always observed a great deal of
personal animosity or affection. But notwithstanding this mixture, a
party may be denominated either personal or real, according to that
principle which is predominant, and is found to have the greatest
influence.
Personal factions arise most easily in small republics. Every domestic
quarrel, there, becomes an affair of state. Love, vanity, emulation, any
passion, as well as ambition and resentment, begets public division. The
NERI and BIANCHI of Florence, the FREGOSI and ADORNI of Genoa, the
COLONNESI and ORSINI of modern Rome, were parties of this kind.
Men have such a propensity to divide into personal factions, that the
smallest appearance of real difference will produce them. What can be
imagined more trivial than the difference between one colour of livery
and another in horse races? Yet this difference begat two most
inveterate factions in the Greek empire, the PRASINI and VENETI, who
never suspended their animosities till they ruined that unhappy
government.
We find in the Roman history a remarkable dissension between two tribes,
the POLLIA and PAPIRIA, which continued for the space of near three
hundred years, and discovered itself in their suffrages at every
election of magistrates. This faction was the more remarkable, as it
could continue for so long a tract of time; even though it did not
spread itself, nor draw any of the other tribes into a share of the
quarrel. If mankind had not a strong propensity to such divisions, the
indifference of the rest of the community must have suppressed this
foolish animosity, that had not any aliment of new benefits and
injuries, of general sympathy and antipathy, which never fail to take
place, when the whole state is rent into equal factions.
Nothing is more usual than to see parties, which have begun upon a real
difference, continue even after that difference is lost. When men are
once enlisted on opposite sides, they contract an affection to the
persons with whom they are united, and an animosity against their
antagonists; and these passions they often transmit to their posterity.
The real difference between Guelf and Ghibelline was long lost in
Italy, before these factions were extinguished. The Guelfs adhered to
the pope, the Ghibellines to the emperor; yet the family of Sforza, who
were in alliance with the emperor, though they were Guelfs, being
expelled Milan by the king of France, assisted by Jacomo Trivulzio and
the Ghibellines, the pope concurred with the latter, and they formed
leagues with the pope against the emperor.
The civil wars which arose some few years ago in Morocco between the
_Blacks_ and _Whites_, merely on account of their complexion, are
founded on a pleasant difference. We laugh at them; but, I believe, were
things rightly examined, we afford much more occasion of ridicule to the
Moors. For, what are all the wars of religion, which have prevailed in
this polite and knowing part of the world? They are certainly more
absurd than the Moorish civil wars. The difference of complexion is a
sensible and a real difference; but the controversy about an article of
faith, which is utterly absurd and unintelligible, is not a difference
in sentiment, but in a few phrases and expressions, which one party
accepts of without understanding them, and the other refuses in the same
manner.[1]
_Real_ factions may be divided into those from _interest_, from
_principle_, and from _affection_. Of all factions, the first are the
most reasonable, and the most excusable. Where two orders of men, such
as the nobles and people, have a distinct authority in a government, not
very accurately balanced and modelled, they naturally follow a distinct
interest; nor can we reasonably expect a different conduct, considering
that degree of selfishness implanted in human nature. It requires great
skill in a legislator to prevent such parties; and many philosophers are
of opinion, that this secret, like the _grand elixir_, or _perpetual
motion_, may amuse men in theory, but can never possibly be reduced to
practice. In despotic governments, indeed, factions often do not appear;
but they are not the less real; or rather, they are more real and more
pernicious upon that very account. The distinct orders of men, nobles
and people, soldiers and merchants, have all a distinct interest; but
the more powerful oppresses the weaker with impunity, and without
resistance; which begets a seeming tranquillity in such governments.
There has been an attempt in England to divide the _landed_ and
_trading_ part of the nation; but without success. The interests of
these two bodies are not really distinct, and never will be so, till our
public debts increase to such a degree as to become altogether
oppressive and intolerable.
Parties from _principle_, especially abstract speculative principle,
are known only to modern times, and are, perhaps, the most extraordinary
and unaccountable _phenomenon_ that has yet appeared in human affairs.
Where different principles beget a contrariety of conduct, which is the
case with all different political principles, the matter may be more
easily explained. A man who esteems the true right of government to lie
in one man, or one family, cannot easily agree with his fellow-citizen,
who thinks that another man or family is possessed of this right. Each
naturally wishes that right may take place, according to his own notions
of it. But where the difference of principle is attended with no
contrariety of action, but every one may follow his own way, without
interfering with his neighbour, as happens in all religious
controversies, what madness, what fury, can beget such an unhappy and
such fatal divisions?
Two men travelling on the highway, the one east, the other west, can
easily pass each other, if the way be broad enough: but two men,
reasoning upon opposite principles of religion, cannot so easily pass,
without shocking, though one should think, that the way were also, in
that case, sufficiently broad and that each might proceed, without
interruption, in his own course. But such is the nature of the human
mind, that it always lays hold on every mind that approaches it; and as
it is wonderfully fortified by an unanimity of sentiments, so it is
shocked and disturbed by any contrariety. Hence the eagerness which
most people discover in a dispute; and hence their impatience of
opposition, even in the most speculative and indifferent opinions.
This principle, however frivolous it may appear, seems to have been the
origin of all religious wars and divisions. But as this principle is
universal in human nature, its effects would not have been confined to
one age, and to one sect of religion, did it not there concur with other
more accidental causes, which raise it to such a height as to produce
the greatest misery and devastation. Most religions of the ancient world
arose in the unknown ages of government, when men were as yet barbarous
and uninstructed, and the prince, as well as peasant, was disposed to
receive, with implicit faith, every pious tale or fiction which was
offered him. The magistrate embraced the religion of the people, and,
entering cordially into the care of sacred matters, naturally acquired
an authority in them, and united the ecclesiastical with the civil
power. But the _Christian_ religion arising, while principles directly
opposite to it were firmly established in the polite part of the world,
who despised the nation that first broached this novelty; no wonder
that, in such circumstances, it was but little countenanced by the civil
magistrate, and that the priesthood was allowed to engross all the
authority in the new sect. So bad a use did they make of this power,
even in those early times, that the primitive persecutions may, perhaps
_in part_,[2] be ascribed to the violence instilled by them into their
followers.
And the same principles of priestly government continuing, after
Christianity became the established religion, they have engendered a
spirit of persecution, which has ever since been the poison of human
society, and the source of the most inveterate factions in every
government. Such divisions, therefore, on the part of the people, may
justly be esteemed factions of _principle_, but, on the part of the
priests, who are the prime movers, they are really factions of
_interest_.
There is another cause (beside the authority of the priests, and the
separation of the ecclesiastical and civil powers), which has
contributed to render Christendom the scene of religious wars and
divisions. Religions that arise in ages totally ignorant and barbarous,
consist mostly of traditional tales and fictions, which may be different
in every sect, without being contrary to each other; and even when they
are contrary, every one adheres to the tradition of his own sect,
without much reasoning or disputation. But as philosophy was widely
spread over the world at the time when Christianity arose, the teachers
of the new sect were obliged to form a system of speculative opinions,
to divide, with some accuracy, their articles of faith, and to explain,
comment, confute, and defend, with all the subtlety of argument and
science. Hence naturally arose keenness in dispute, when the Christian
religion came to be split into new divisions and heresies: and this
keenness assisted the priests in the policy of begetting a mutual hatred
and antipathy among their deluded followers. Sects of philosophy, in the
ancient world, were more zealous than parties of religion; but, in
modern times, parties of religion are more furious and enraged than the
most cruel factions that ever arose from interest and ambition.
I have mentioned parties from _affection_ as a kind of _real_ parties,
beside those from _interest_ and _principle_. By parties from affection,
I understand those which are founded on the different attachments of men
towards particular families and persons whom they desire to rule over
them. These factions are often very violent; though, I must own, it may
seem unaccountable that men should attach themselves so strongly to
persons with whom they are nowise acquainted, whom perhaps they never
saw, and from whom they never received, nor can ever hope for, any
favour. Yet this we often find to be the case, and even with men, who,
on other occasions, discover no great generosity of spirit, nor are
found to be easily transported by friendship beyond their own interest.
We are apt to think the relation between us and our sovereign very close
and intimate. The splendour of majesty and power bestows an importance
on the fortunes even of a single person. And when a man's good-nature
does not give him this imaginary interest, his ill-nature will, from
spite and opposition to persons whose sentiments are different from his
own.
[1] Besides I do not find that the _Whites_ in Morocco ever imposed on
the Blacks any necessity pi altering their complexion, or frightened
them with inquisitions and penal laws in case of obstinacy. Nor have the
Blacks been more unreasonable in this particular. But is a man's
opinion, where he is able to form a real opinion, more at his disposal
than his complexion? And can one be induced by force or fear to do more
than paint and disguise in the one case as well as in the other.
[2] I say _in part_; for it is a vulgar error to imagine, that the
ancients were as great friends to toleration as the English or Dutch are
at present. The laws against external superstition, among the Romans,
were as ancient as the time of the Twelve Tables; and the Jews, as well
as Christians, were sometimes punished by them; though, in general,
these laws were not rigorously executed. Immediately after the conquest
of Gaul, they forbade all but the natives to be initiated into the
religion of the Druids; and this was a kind of persecution. In about a
century after this conquest, the emperor Claudius quite abolished that
superstition by penal laws; which would have been a very grievous
persecution, if the imitation of the Roman manners had not, beforehand,
weaned the Gauls from their ancient prejudices. Suetonius _in vita
Claudii_. Pliny ascribes the abolition of the Druidical superstitions to
Tiberius, probably because that emperor had taken some steps towards
restraining them (lib. xxx. cap. i). This is an instance of the usual
caution and moderation of the Romans in such cases; and very different
from their violent and sanguinary method of treating the Christians.
Hence we may entertain a suspicion, that those furious persecutions of
_Christianity_ were in some measure owing to the imprudent zeal and
bigotry of the first propagators of that sect; and ecclesiastical
history affords us many reasons to confirm this suspicion.
OF THE PARTIES OF GREAT BRITAIN