[2] I may perhaps treat more fully of this subject in some future Essay.

In the meantime I shall observe, what has been proved beyond question by

several great moralists of the present age, that the social passions are

by far the most powerful of any, and that even all the other passions,

receive from them their chief force and influence. Whoever desires to

see this question treated at large, with the greatest force of argument

and eloquence, may consult my Lord Shaftesbury's Enquiry concerning

Virtue.

OF CIVIL LIBERTY

Those who employ their pens on political subjects, free from party rage,

and party prejudices, cultivate a science, which, of all others,

contributes most to public utility, and even to the private satisfaction

of those who addict themselves to the study of it. I am apt, however, to

entertain a suspicion, that the world is still too young to fix many

general truths in politics, which will remain true to the latest

posterity. We have not as yet had experience of three thousand years; so

that not only the art of reasoning is still imperfect in this science,

as in all others, but we even want sufficient materials upon which we

can reason. It is not fully known what degree of refinement, either in

virtue or vice, human nature is susceptible of, nor what may be expected

of mankind from any great revolution in their education, customs, or

principles. Machiavel was certainly a great genius; but, having confined

his study to the furious and tyrannical governments of ancient times, or

to the little disorderly principalities of Italy, his reasonings,

especially upon monarchical government, have been found extremely

defective; and there scarcely is any maxim in his _Prince_ which

subsequent experience has not entirely refuted. 'A weak prince,' says

he, 'is incapable of receiving good counsel; for, if he consult with

several, he will not be able to choose among their different counsels.

If he abandon himself to one, that minister may perhaps have capacity,

but he will not long be a minister. He will be sure to dispossess his

master, and place himself and his family upon the throne.' I mention

this, among many instances of the errors of that politician, proceeding,

in a great measure, from his having lived in too early an age of the

world, to be a good judge of political truth. Almost all the princes of

Europe are at present governed by their ministers, and have been so for

near two centuries, and yet no such event has ever happened, or can

possibly happen. Sejanus might project dethroning the Cæsars, but

Fleury, though ever so vicious, could not, while in his senses,

entertain the least hopes of dispossessing the Bourbons.

Trade was never esteemed an affair of state till the last century; and

there scarcely is any ancient writer on politics who has made mention of

it. Even the Italians have kept a profound silence with regard to it,

though it has now engaged the chief attention, as well of ministers of

state, as of speculative reasoners. The great opulence, grandeur, and

military achievements of the two maritime powers, seem first to have

instructed mankind in the importance of an extensive commerce.

Having therefore intended, in this Essay, to make a full comparison of

civil liberty and absolute government, and to show the great advantages

of the former above the latter; I began to entertain a suspicion that no

man in this age was sufficiently qualified for such an undertaking, and

that, whatever any one should advance on that head, would in all

probability be refuted by further experience, and be rejected by

posterity. Such mighty revolutions have happened in human affairs, and

so many events have arisen contrary to the expectation of the ancients,

that they are sufficient to beget the suspicion of still further

changes.

It had been observed by the ancients, that all the arts and sciences

arose among free nations; and that the Persians and Egyptians,

notwithstanding their ease, opulence, and luxury, made but faint efforts

towards a relish in those finer pleasures, which were carried to such

perfection by the Greeks, amidst continual wars, attended with poverty,

and the greatest simplicity of life and manners. It had also been

observed, that, when the Greeks lost their liberty, though they

increased mightily in riches by means of the conquests of Alexander, yet

the arts, from that moment, declined among them, and have never since

been able to raise their head in that climate. Learning was transplanted

to Rome, the only free nation at that time in the universe; and having

met with so favourable a soil, it made prodigious shoots for above a

century; till the decay of liberty produced also the decay of letters,

and spread a total barbarism over the world. From these two

experiments, of which, each was double in its kind, and showed the fall

of learning in absolute governments, as well as its rise in popular

ones, Longinus thought himself sufficiently justified in asserting that

the arts and sciences could never flourish but in a free government. And

in this opinion he has been followed by several eminent writers[1] in

our own country, who either confined their view merely to ancient facts,

or entertained too great a partiality in favour of that form of

government established among us.

But what would these writers have said to the instances of modern Rome

and Florence? Of which the former carried to perfection all the finer

arts of sculpture, painting, and music, as well as poetry, though it

groaned under tyranny, and under the tyranny of priests, while the

latter made its chief progress in the arts and sciences after it began

to lose its liberty by the usurpation of the family of Medici. Ariosto,

Tasso, Galileo, no more than Raphael or Michael Angelo, were born in

republics. And though the Lombard school was famous as well as the

Roman, yet the Venetians have had the smallest share in its honours, and

seem rather inferior to the other Italians in their genius for the arts

and sciences. Rubens established his school at Antwerp, not at

Amsterdam. Dresden, not Hamburg, is the centre of politeness in Germany.

But the most eminent instance of the flourishing of learning in absolute

governments is that of France, which scarcely ever enjoyed any

established liberty, and yet has carried the arts and sciences as near

perfection as any other nation. The English are, perhaps, greater

philosophers; the Italians better painters and musicians; the Romans

were greater orators; but the French are the only people, except the

Greeks, who have been at once philosophers, poets, orators, historians,

painters, architects, sculptors, and musicians. With regard to the

stage, they have excelled even the Greeks, who far excelled the English.

And, in common life, they have, in a great measure, perfected that art,

the most useful and agreeable of any, _l'Art de Vivre_, the art of

society and conversation.

If we consider the state of the sciences and polite arts in our own

country, Horace's observation, with regard to the Romans, may in a great

measure be applied to the British.

Sed in longum tamen ævum

Manserunt, hodieque manent _vestigia ruris_.

The elegance and propriety of style have been very much neglected among

us. We have no dictionary of our language, and scarcely a tolerable

grammar. The first polite prose we have was writ by a man who is still

alive.[2] As to Sprat, Locke, and even Temple, they knew too little of

the rules of art to be esteemed elegant writers. The prose of Bacon,

Harrington, and Milton, is altogether stiff and pedantic, though their

sense be excellent. Men, in this country, have been so much occupied in

the great disputes of _Religion_, _Politics_, and _Philosophy_, that

they had no relish for the seemingly minute observations of grammar and

criticism. And, though this turn of thinking must have considerably

improved our sense and our talent of reasoning, it must be confessed,

that even in those sciences above mentioned, we have not any standard

book which we can transmit to posterity: and the utmost we have to boast

of, are a few essays towards a more just philosophy, which indeed

promise well, but have not as yet reached any degree of perfection.

It has become an established opinion, that commerce can never flourish

but in a free government; and this opinion seems to be founded on a

longer and larger experience than the foregoing, with regard to the arts

and sciences. If we trace commerce in its progress through Tyre, Athens,

Syracuse, Carthage, Venice, Florence, Genoa, Antwerp, Holland, England,

&c, we shall always find it to have fixed its seat in free governments.

The three greatest trading towns now in Europe, are London, Amsterdam,

and Hamburg; all free cities, and Protestant cities; that is, enjoying a

double liberty. It must, however, be observed, that the great jealousy

entertained of late with regard to the commerce of France, seems to

prove that this maxim is no more certain and infallible than the

foregoing, and that the subjects of an absolute prince may become our

rivals in commerce as well as in learning.

Durst I deliver my opinion in an affair of so much uncertainty, I would

assert, that notwithstanding the efforts of the French, there is

something hurtful to commerce inherent in the very nature of absolute

government, and inseparable from it; though the reason I should assign

for this opinion is somewhat different from that which is commonly

insisted on. Private property seems to me almost as secure in a

civilized European monarchy as in a republic, nor is danger much

apprehended, in such a government, from the violence of the sovereign,

more than we commonly dread harm from thunder, or earthquakes, or any

accident the most unusual and extraordinary. Avarice, the spur of

industry, is so obstinate a passion, and works its way through so many

real dangers and difficulties, that it is not likely to be scared by an

imaginary danger, which is so small, that it scarcely admits of

calculation. Commerce, therefore, in my opinion, is apt to decay in

absolute governments, not because it is there less secure, but because

it is less _honourable_. A subordination of rank is absolutely necessary

to the support of monarchy. Birth, titles, and place, must be honoured

above industry and riches; and while these notions prevail, all the

considerable traders will be tempted to throw up their commerce, in

order to purchase some of those employments, to which privileges and

honours are annexed.

Since I am upon this head, of the alterations which time has produced,

or may produce in politics, I must observe, that all kinds of

government, free and absolute, seem to have undergone in modern times, a

great change for the better, with regard both to foreign and domestic

management. The _balance_ of power is a secret in politics, fully known

only to the present age; and I must add, that the internal police of

states has also received great improvements within the last century. We

are informed by Sallust, that Catiline's army was much augmented by the

accession of the highwaymen about Rome; though I believe, that all of

that profession who are at present dispersed over Europe would not

amount to a regiment. In Cicero's pleadings for Milo, I find this

argument, among others, made use of to prove that his client had not

assassinated Clodius. Had Milo, said he, intended to have killed

Clodius, he had not attacked him in the daytime, and at such a distance

from the city; he had waylaid him at night, near the suburbs, where it

might have been pretended that he was killed by robbers; and the

frequency of the accident would have favoured the deceit. This is a

surprising proof of the loose policy of Rome, and of the number and

force of these robbers, since Clodius was at that time attended by

thirty slaves, who were completely armed, and sufficiently accustomed to

blood and danger in the frequent tumults excited by that seditious

tribune.

But though all kinds of government be improved in modern times, yet

monarchical government seems to have made the greatest advances towards

perfection. It may now be affirmed of civilized monarchies, what was

formerly said in praise of republics alone, _that they are a government

of Laws, not of Men._ They are found susceptible of order, method, and

constancy, to a surprising degree. Property is there secure, industry

encouraged, the arts flourish, and the prince lives secure among his

subjects, like a father among his children. There are, perhaps, and have

been for two centuries, near two hundred absolute princes, great and

small, in Europe; and allowing twenty years to each reign, we may

suppose, that there have been in the whole two thousand monarchs, or

tyrants, as the Greeks would have called them; yet of these there has

not been one, not even Philip II of Spain, so bad as Tiberius, Caligula,

Nero, or Domitian, who were four in twelve among the Roman emperors. It

must, however, be confessed, that though monarchical governments have

approached nearer to popular ones in gentleness and stability, they are

still inferior. Our modern education and customs instil more humanity

and moderation than the ancient; but have not as yet been able to

overcome entirely the disadvantages of that form of government.

But here I must beg leave to advance a conjecture, which seems probable,

but which posterity alone can fully judge of. I am apt to think, that in

monarchical governments there is a source of improvement, and in popular

governments a source of degeneracy, which in time will bring these

species of civil polity still nearer an equality. The greatest abuses

which arise in France, the most perfect model of pure monarchy, proceed

not from the number or weight of the taxes, beyond what are to be met

with in free countries; but from the expensive, unequal, arbitrary, and

intricate method of levying them, by which the industry of the poor,

especially of the peasants and farmers, is in a great measure

discouraged, and agriculture rendered a beggarly and slavish employment.

But to whose advantage do these abuses tend? If to that of the nobility,

they might be esteemed inherent in that form of government, since the

nobility are the true supports of monarchy; and it is natural their

interest should be more consulted in such a constitution, than that of

the people. But the nobility are, in reality, the chief losers by this

oppression, since it ruins their estates, and beggars their tenants. The

only gainers by it are the _Financiers_, a race of men rather odious to

the nobility and the whole kingdom. If a prince or minister, therefore,

should arise, endowed with sufficient discernment to know his own and

the public interest, and with sufficient force of mind to break through

ancient customs, we might expect to see these abuses remedied; in which

case, the difference between that absolute government and our free one

would not appear so considerable as at present.

The source of degeneracy which may be remarked in free governments,

consists in the practice of contracting debt, and mortgaging the public

revenues, by which taxes may, in time, become altogether intolerable,

and all the property of the state be brought into the hands of the

public The practice is of modern date. The Athenians, though governed by

a republic, paid near two hundred per cent. for those sums of money

which any emergency made it necessary for them to borrow; as we learn

from Xenophon. Among the moderns, the Dutch first introduced the

practice of borrowing great sums at low interest, and have wellnigh

ruined themselves by it. Absolute princes have also contracted debt; but

as an absolute prince may make a bankruptcy when he pleases, his people

can never be oppressed by his debts. In popular governments, the people,

and chiefly those who have the highest offices, being commonly the

public creditors, it is difficult for the state to make use of thiss

remedy, which, however it may sometimes be necessary, is always cruel

and barbarous. This, therefore, seems to be an inconvenience which

nearly threatens all free governments, especially our own, at the

present juncture of affairs. And what a strong motive is this to

increase our frugality of public money, lest, for want of it, we be

reduced, by the multiplicity of taxes, or, what is worse, by our public

impotence and inability for defence, to curse our very liberty, and wish

ourselves in the same state of servitude with all the nations who

surround us?

[1] Mr. Addison and Lord Shaftesbury.

[2] Dr. Swift.

OF ELOQUENCE

Those who consider the periods and revolutions of human kind, as

represented in history, are entertained with a spectacle full of

pleasure and variety, and see with surprise the manners, customs, and

opinions of the same species susceptible of such prodigious changes in

different periods of time. It may, however, be observed, that, in

_civil_ history, there is found a much greater uniformity than in the

history of learning and science, and that the wars, negotiations, and

politics of one age, resemble more those of another than the taste, wit,

and speculative principles. Interest and ambition, honour and shame,

friendship and enmity, gratitude and revenge, are the prime movers in

all public transactions; and these passions are of a very stubborn and

untractable nature, in comparison of the sentiments and understanding,

which are easily varied by education and example. The Goths were much

more inferior to the Romans in taste and science than in courage and

virtue.

But not to compare together nations so widely different, it may be

observed, that even this latter period of human learning is, in many

respects, of an opposite character to the ancient; and that, if we be

superior in philosophy, we are still, notwithstanding all our

refinements, much inferior in eloquence.

In ancient times, no work of genius was thought to require so great

parts and capacity as the speaking in public; and some eminent writers

have pronounced the talents even of a great poet or philosopher to be of

an inferior nature to those which are requisite for such an undertaking.

Greece and Rome produced, each of them, but one accomplished orator;

and, whatever praises the other celebrated speakers might merit, they

were still esteemed much inferior to those great models of eloquence. It

is observable, that the ancient critics could scarcely find two orators

in any age who deserved to be placed precisely in the same rank, and

possessed the same degree of merit. Calvus, Cælius, Curio, Hortensius,

Cæsar, rose one above another: but the greatest of that age was inferior

to Cicero, the most eloquent speaker that had ever appeared in Rome.

Those of fine taste, however, pronounced this judgment of the Roman

orator, as well as of the Grecian, that both of them surpassed in

eloquence all that had ever appeared, but that they were far from

reaching the perfection of their art, which was infinite, and not only

exceeded human force to attain, but human imagination to conceive.

Cicero declares himself dissatisfied with his own performances, nay,

even with those of Demosthenes. _Ita sunt avidæ et capaces meæ aures,_

says he, _et semper aliquid immensum infinitumque desiderant._

Of all the polite and learned nations, England alone possesses a popular

government, or admits into the legislature such numerous assemblies as

can be supposed to lie under the dominion of eloquence. But what has

England to boast of in this particular? In enumerating the great men who

have done honour to our country, we exult in our poets and philosophers;

but what orators are ever mentioned? or where are the monuments of their

genius to be met with? There are found, indeed, in our histories, the

names of several, who directed the resolutions of our parliament: but

neither themselves nor others have taken the pains to preserve their

speeches, and the authority, which they possessed, seems to have been

owing to their experience, wisdom, or power, more than to their talents

for oratory. At present there are above half a dozen speakers in the two

Houses, who, in the judgment of the public, have reached very near the

same pitch of eloquence; and no man pretends to give any one the

preference above the rest. This seems to me a certain proof, that none

of them have attained much beyond a mediocrity in their art, and that

the species of eloquence, which they aspire to, gives no exercise to the

sublimer faculties of the mind, but may be reached by ordinary talents

and a slight application. A hundred cabinet-makers in London can work a

table or a chair equally well; but no one poet can write verses with

such spirit and elegance as Mr. Pope.

We are told, that, when Demosthenes was to plead, all ingenious men

flocked to Athens from the most remote parts of Greece, as to the most

celebrated spectacle of the world. At London, you may see men sauntering

in the court of requests, while the most important debate is carrying on

in the two Houses; and many do not think themselves sufficiently

compensated for the losing of their dinners, by all the eloquence of our

most celebrated speakers. When old Cibber is to act, the curiosity of

several is more excited, than when our prime minister is to defend

himself from a motion for his removal or impeachment.

Even a person, unacquainted with the noble remains of ancient orators,

may judge, from a few strokes, that the style or species of their

eloquence was infinitely more sublime than that which modern orators

aspire to. How absurd would it appear, in our temperate and calm

speakers, to make use of an _Apostrophe_, like that noble one of

Demosthenes, so much celebrated by Quintilian and Longinus, when,

justifying the unsuccessful battle of Chæronea, he breaks out, 'No, my

fellow-citizens. No: you have not erred. I swear by the _manes_ of those

heroes, who fought for the same cause in the plains of Marathon and

Platæa.' Who could now endure such a bold and poetical figure as that

which Cicero employs, after describing, in the most tragical terms, the

crucifixion of a Roman citizen? 'Should I paint the horrors of this

scene, not to Roman citizens, not to the allies of our state, not to

those who have ever heard of the Roman name, not even to men, but to

brute creatures; or, to go further, should I lift up my voice in the

most desolate solitude, to the rocks and mountains, yet should I surely

see those rude and inanimate parts of nature moved with horror and

indignation at the recital of so enormous an action.' With what a blaze

of eloquence must such a sentence be surrounded to give it grace, or

cause it to make any impression on the hearers! And what noble art and

sublime talents are requisite to arrive, by just degrees, at a sentiment

so bold and excessive! To inflame the audience, so as to make them

accompany the speaker in such violent passions, and such elevated

conceptions; and to conceal, under a torrent of eloquence, the artifice

by which all this is effectuated! Should this sentiment even appear to

us excessive, as perhaps justly it may, it will at least serve to give

an idea of the style of ancient eloquence, where such swelling

expressions were not rejected as wholly monstrous and gigantic.

Suitable to this vehemence of thought and expression, was the vehemence

of action, observed in the ancient orators. The _supplosio pedis_, or

stamping with the foot, was one of the most usual and moderate gestures

which they made use of; though that is now esteemed too violent, either

for the senate, bar, or pulpit, and is only admitted into the theatre

to accompany the most violent passions which are there represented.

One is somewhat at a loss to what cause we may ascribe so sensible a

decline of eloquence in latter ages. The genius of mankind, at all

times, is perhaps equal: the moderns have applied themselves, with great

industry and success, to all the other arts and sciences: and a learned

nation possesses a popular government; a circumstance which seems

requisite for the full display of these noble talents: but

notwithstanding all these advantages, our progress in eloquence is very

inconsiderable, in comparison of the advances which we have made in all

other parts of learning.

Shall we assert, that the strains of ancient eloquence are unsuitable to

our age, and ought not to be imitated by modern orators? Whatever

reasons may be made use of to prove this, I am persuaded they will be

found, upon examination, to be unsound and unsatisfactory.

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