_Parva momenta in spem metumque impellunt animos._[3]
Hopes are natural to most men, especially to sanguine complexions, and
among the various changes that happen in the course of public affairs,
they are seldom without some grounds: Even in desperate cases, where it
is impossible they should have any foundation, they are often affected,
to keep a countenance, and make an enemy think we have some resource
which they know nothing of. This appears to have been for some months
past the condition of those people, whom I am forced, for want of other
phrases, to called the _ruined party_. They have taken up since their
fall, some real, and some pretended hopes. When the E. of S[underlan]d
was discarded, they _hoped_ her M[ajesty] would proceed no farther in the
change of her ministry, and had the insolence to misrepresent her words
to foreign states. They _hoped_, nobody durst advise the dissolution of
the Parliament. When this was done, and further alterations made at
Court, they _hoped_ and endeavoured to ruin the credit of the nation.
They likewise _hoped_ that we should have some terrible loss abroad,
which would force us to unravel all, and begin again upon their bottom.
But, of all their _hopes_, whether real or assumed, there is none more
extraordinary than that which they now would seem to place their whole
confidence in: that this great turn of affairs was only occasioned by a
short madness of the people, from which they will recover in a little
time, when their eyes are open, and they grow cool and sober enough to
consider the truth of things, and how much they have been deceived. It
is not improbable, that some few of the deepest sighted among these
reasoners, are well enough convinced how vain all such _hopes_ must be:
but for the rest, the wisest of them seem to have been very ill judges of
the people's dispositions, the want of which knowledge was a principal
occasion to hasten their ruin; for surely had they suspected which way
the popular current inclined, they never would have run against it by
that impeachment. I therefore conclude, they generally are so blind, as
to imagine some comfort from this fantastical opinion, that the people of
England are at present distracted, but will shortly come to their senses
again.
For the service therefore of our adversaries and friends, I shall briefly
_examine_ this point, by shewing what are the causes and symptoms of a
people's madness, and how it differs from their natural bent and
inclination.
It is Machiavel's observation, that the people when left to their own
judgment, do seldom mistake their true interests; and indeed they
naturally love the constitution they are born under, never desiring to
change but under great oppressions. However, they are to be deceived by
several means. It has often happened in Greece, and sometimes in Rome,
that those very men who have contributed to shake off a former tyranny,
have, instead of restoring the old constitution, deluded the People into
a worse and more ignominious slavery. Besides, all great changes have the
same effect upon commonwealths that thunder has upon liquors, making the
dregs fly up to the top: the lowest plebeians rise to the head of
affairs, and there preserve themselves by representing the nobles and
other friends to the old government, as enemies to the public. The
encouraging of new mysteries and new deities, with the pretences of
further purity in religion, hath likewise been a frequent topic to
mislead the people. And, not to mention more, the promoting false reports
of dangers from abroad, hath often served to prevent them from fencing
against real dangers at home. By these and the like arts, in conjunction
with a great depravity of manners, and a weak or corrupt administration,
the madness of the people hath risen to such a height as to break in
pieces the whole frame of the best instituted governments. But however,
such great frenzies being artificially raised, are a perfect force and
constraint upon human nature, and under a wise steady prince, will
certainly decline of themselves, settling like the sea after a storm, and
then the true bent and genius of the people will appear. Ancient and
modern story are full of instances to illustrate what I say. In our own
island we had a great example of a long madness in the people, kept up by
a thousand artifices like intoxicating medicines, till the constitution
was destroyed; yet the malignity being spent, and the humour exhausted
that served to foment it; before the usurpers could fix upon a new
scheme, the people suddenly recovered, and peaceably restored the old
constitution.
From what I have offered, it will be easy to decide, whether this late
change in the dispositions of the people were a new madness, or a
recovery from an old one. Neither do I see how it can be proved that such
a change had in any circumstance the least symptoms of madness, whether
my description of it be right or no. It is agreed, that the truest way of
judging the dispositions of the people in the choice of their
representatives, is by computing the county-elections; and in these, it
is manifest that five in six are entirely for the present measures;
although the court was so far from interposing its credit, that there was
no change in the admiralty, not above one or two in the lieutenancy, nor
any other methods used to influence elections.[4] The free unextorted
addresses[5] sent some time before from every part of the kingdom,
plainly shewed what sort of bent the people had taken, and from what
motives. The election of members for this great city,[6] carried contrary
to all conjecture, against the united interest of those two great bodies,
the Bank and East India Company, was another convincing argument.
Besides, the Whigs themselves have always confessed, that the bulk of
landed men in England was generally of Tories. So that this change must
be allowed to be according to the natural genius and disposition of the
people, whether it were just and reasonable in itself or not.
Notwithstanding all which, you shall frequently hear the partisans of the
late men in power, gravely and decisively pronounce, that the present
ministry cannot possibly stand.[7] Now, they who affirm this, if they
believe themselves, must ground their opinion, upon the iniquity of the
_last_ being so far established, and deeply rooted, that no endeavours of
honest men, will be able to restore things to their former state. Or
else these reasoners have been so misled by twenty years' mismanagement,
that they have forgot our constitution, and talk as if our monarchy and
revolution began together. But the body of the people is wiser, and by
the choice they have made, shew they _do_ understand our constitution,
and would bring it back to the old form; which if the new ministers take
care to maintain, they will and ought to stand, otherwise they may fall
like their predecessors. But I think we may easily foresee what a
Parliament freely chosen, without threatening or corruption, is likely to
do, when no man shall be in any danger to lose his place by the freedom
of his voice.
But, who are those advancers of this opinion, that the present ministry
cannot hold? It must be either such as are afraid to be called to an
account, in case it should hold; or those who keep offices, from which
others, better qualified, were removed; and may reasonably apprehend to
be turned out, for worthier men to come in their places, since perhaps
it will be necessary to make some changes, that the public business of
the nation may go on: or lastly, stock-jobbers, who industriously spread
such reports that actions may fall, and their friends buy to advantage.
Yet these hopes, thus freely expressed, as they are more sincere, so they
are more supportable, than when they appear under the disguise and
pretence of fears. Some of these gentlemen are employed to shake their
heads in proper companies; to doubt where all this will end; to be in
mighty pain for the nation; to shew how impossible it is, that the public
credit can be supported: to pray that all may do well in whatever hands;
but very much to doubt that the Pretender is at the bottom. I know not
any thing so nearly resembling this behaviour, as what I have often seen
among the friends of a sick man, whose interest it is that he should die:
The physicians protest they see no danger; the symptoms are good, the
medicines answer expectation; yet still they are not to be comforted;
they whisper, he is a gone man; it is not possible he should hold out; he
has perfect death in his face; they never liked this doctor: At last the
patient recovers, and their joy is as false as their grief.
I believe there is no man so sanguine, who did not apprehend some ill
consequences from the late change, though not in any proportion to the
good ones: but it is manifest, the former have proved much fewer and
lighter than were expected, either at home or abroad, by the fears of our
friends, or the hopes of our enemies. Those remedies that stir the
humours in a diseased body, are at first more painful than the malady
itself; yet certain death is the consequence of deferring them too long.
Actions have fallen, and the loans are said to come in slowly. But
beside, that something of this must have been, whether there had been any
change or no; beside, that the surprise of every change, for the better
as well as the worse, is apt to affect credit for a while; there is a
further reason, which is plain and scandalous. When the late party was at
the helm, those who were called the Tories, never put their resentments
in balance with the safety of the nation, but cheerfully contributed to
the common cause. Now the scene is changed, the fallen party seems to act
from very different motives: they have _given the word about;_ they will
keep their money and be passive; and in this point stand upon the same
foot with Papists and Nonjurors. What would have become of the public, if
the present great majority had acted thus, during the late
administration? Had acted thus, before the others were masters of that
wealth they have squeezed out of the landed men, and with the strength of
that, would now hold the kingdom at defiance?
Thus much I have thought fit to say, without pointing reflections upon
any particular person; which I have hitherto but sparingly done, and that
only towards those whose characters are too profligate, that the managing
of them should be of any consequence: Besides as it is a talent I am not
naturally fond of, so, in the subjects I treat, it is generally needless.
If I display the effects of avarice and ambition, of bribery and
corruption, of gross immorality and irreligion, those who are the least
conversant in things, will easily know where to apply them. Not that I
lay any weight upon the objections of such who charge me with this
proceeding: it is notorious enough that the writers of the other side
were the first aggressors. Not to mention their scurrilous libels many
years ago, directly levelled at particular persons; how many papers do
now come out every week, full of rude invectives against the present
ministry, with the first and last letters of their names to prevent
mistakes? It is good sometimes to let these people see, that we neither
want spirit nor materials to retaliate; and therefore in this point
_alone_, I shall follow their example, whenever I find myself
sufficiently provoked; only with one addition, that whatever charges I
bring, either general or particular, shall be religiously true, either
upon avowed facts which none can deny, or such as I can prove from my own
knowledge.
Being resolved publicly to acknowledge any mistakes I have been guilty
of; I do here humbly desire the reader's pardon for one of mighty
importance, about a fact in one of my papers, said to be done in the
cathedral of Gloucester.[8] A whole Hydra of errors in two words: For as
I am since informed, it was neither in the cathedral, nor city, nor
county of Gloucester, but some other church of that diocese. If I had
ever met any other objection of equal weight, though from the meanest
hands, I should certainly have answered it.
[Footnote 1: No. 24 in the reprint. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: I.e. 1710-11. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: "The merest trifles affect our spirits, and fill us with
hope or fear." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 4: See Swift's "Memoirs Relating to that Change," etc., vol.
v., p. 386 of present edition. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: "The general ferment soon after [1710, summer] broke out
into numerous addresses, of very different style and tenor, that were
presented to the Queen. ... The high-church addresses not only exceeded
the others in number, but were also far better received; as complimenting
the Queen with a more extensive prerogative, and an hereditary title"
(Chamberlen's "History of Queen Anne," p. 347). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 6: At the general election in October and November, 1710, the
City of London returned four Tories: Sir Wm. Withers, Sir R. Hoare, Sir
G. Newland, and Mr. John Cass. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 7: Harley's ministry continued in power until July, 1714.
[T.S.]]
[Footnote 8: This act of Wharton's was alluded to by the Duke of Leeds in
the House of Lords on December 6th, 1705. See Dartmouth's note on
Burnet's "Own Times," vol. ii., p. 435, and compare "History of
Parliament," and "Journals of House of Lords." When the Duke of
Leeds insinuated pretty plainly to Wharton the nature of his offence,
Dartmouth remarks that the "Lord Wharton was very silent for the
rest of that day, and desired no further explanations." [T.S.]]