Four hundred years have gone over us; but I believe we are not
materially changed since that period. Thanks to our sullen resistance to
innovation, thanks to the cold sluggishness of our national character,
we still bear the stamp of our forefathers. We have not (as I conceive)
lost the generosity and dignity of thinking of the fourteenth century;
nor as yet have we subtilized ourselves into savages. We are not the
converts of Rousseau; we are not the disciples of Voltaire; Helvetius
has made no progress amongst us. Atheists are not our preachers; madmen
are not our lawgivers. We know that WE have made no discoveries; and we
think that no discoveries are to be made in morality; nor many in the
great principles of government, nor in the ideas of liberty; which were
understood long before we were born, altogether as well as they will
be after the grave has heaped its mould upon our presumption, and the
silent tomb shall have imposed its law on our pert loquacity. In England
we have not yet been completely embowelled of our natural entrails;
we still feel within us, and we cherish and cultivate, those inbred
sentiments which are the faithful guardians, the active monitors of our
duty, the true supporters of all liberal and manly morals. We have not
been drawn and trussed, in order that we may be filled, like stuffed
birds in a museum, with chaff and rags and paltry blurred shreds of
paper about the rights of man. We preserve the whole of our feelings
still native and entire, unsophisticated by pedantry and infidelity. We
have real hearts of flesh and blood beating in our bosoms. We fear God;
we look up with awe to kings; with affection to parliaments; with duty
to magistrates; with reverence to priests; and with respect to nobility.
Why? Because when such ideas are brought before our minds, it is NATURAL
to be so affected; because all other feelings are false and spurious,
and tend to corrupt our minds, to vitiate our primary morals, to render
us unfit for rational liberty; and by teaching us a servile, licentious,
and abandoned insolence, to be our low sport for a few holidays, to
make us perfectly fit for, and justly deserving of, slavery, through the
whole course of our lives.
You see, sir, that in this enlightened age I am bold enough to confess,
that we are generally men of untaught feelings; that instead of casting
away all our old prejudices, we cherish them to a very considerable
degree, and, to take more shame to ourselves, we cherish them because
they are prejudices; and the longer they have lasted, and the more
generally they have prevailed, the more we cherish them. We are afraid
to put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason;
because we suspect that the stock in each man is small, and that the
individuals would do better to avail themselves of the general bank and
capital of nations and of ages. Many of our men of speculation, instead
of exploding general prejudices, employ their sagacity to discover the
latent wisdom which prevails in them. If they find what they seek, and
they seldom fail, they think it more wise to continue the prejudice,
with the reason involved, than to cast away the coat of prejudice,
and to leave nothing but the naked reason; because prejudice, with its
reason, has a motive to give action to that reason, and an affection
which will give it permanence. Prejudice is of ready application to the
emergency; it previously engages the mind in a steady course of wisdom
and virtue, and does not leave the man hesitating in the moment of
decision, sceptical, puzzled, and unresolved. Prejudice renders a man's
virtue his habit; and not a series of unconnected acts. Through just
prejudice, his duty becomes a part of his nature.