That a man should rejoice and triumph in the destruction of an absolute

monarchy,--that in such an event he should overlook the captivity,

disgrace, and degradation of an unfortunate prince, and the continual

danger to a life which exists only to be endangered,--that he should

overlook the utter ruin of whole orders and classes of men, extending

itself directly, or in its nearest consequences, to at least a million

of our kind, and to at least the temporary wretchedness of a whole

community,--I do not deny to be in some sort natural; because, when

people see a political object which they ardently desire but in one

point of view, they are apt extremely to palliate or underrate the evils

which may arise in obtaining it. This is no reflection on the humanity

of those persons. Their good-nature I am the last man in the world to

dispute. It only shows that they are not sufficiently informed or

sufficiently considerate. When they come to reflect seriously on the

transaction, they will think themselves bound to examine what the

object is that has been acquired by all this havoc. They will hardly

assert that the destruction of an absolute monarchy is a thing good in

itself, without any sort of reference to the antecedent state of things,

or to consequences which result from the change,--without any

consideration whether under its ancient rule a country was to a

considerable degree flourishing and populous, highly cultivated and

highly commercial, and whether, under that domination, though personal

liberty had been precarious and insecure, property at least was ever

violated. They cannot take the moral sympathies of the human mind along

with them, in abstractions separated from the good or evil condition of

the state, from the quality of actions, and the character of the actors.

None of us love absolute and uncontrolled monarchy; but we could not

rejoice at the sufferings of a Marcus Aurelius or a Trajan, who were

absolute monarchs, as we do when Nero is condemned by the Senate to be

punished _more majorum_; nor, when that monster was obliged to fly with

his wife Sporus, and to drink puddle, were men affected in the same

manner as when the venerable Galba, with all his faults and errors, was

murdered by a revolted mercenary soldiery. With such things before our

eyes, our feelings contradict our theories; and when this is the case,

the feelings are true, and the theory is false. What I contend for is,

that, in commending the destruction of an absolute monarchy, _all the

circumstances_ ought not to be wholly overlooked, as "considerations fit

only for shallow and superficial minds." (The words of Mr. Fox, or to

that effect.)

The subversion of a government, to deserve any praise, must be

considered but as a step preparatory to the formation of something

better, either in the scheme of the government itself, or in the persons

who administer it, or in both. These events cannot in reason be

separated. For instance, when we praise our Revolution of 1688, though

the nation in that act was on the defensive, and was justified in

incurring all the evils of a defensive war, we do not rest there. We

always combine with the subversion of the old government the happy

settlement which followed. When we estimate that Revolution, we mean to

comprehend in our calculation both the value of the thing parted with

and the value of the thing received in exchange.

The burden of proof lies heavily on those who tear to pieces the whole

frame and contexture of their country, that they could find no other way

of settling a government fit to obtain its rational ends, except that

which they have pursued by means unfavorable to all the present

happiness of millions of people, and to the utter ruin of several

hundreds of thousands. In their political arrangements, men have no

right to put the well-being of the present generation wholly out of the

question. Perhaps the only moral trust with any certainty in our hands

is the care of our own time. With regard to futurity, we are to treat it

like a ward. We are not so to attempt an improvement of his fortune as

to put the capital of his estate to any hazard.

It is not worth our while to discuss, like sophisters, whether in no

case some evil for the sake of some benefit is to be tolerated. Nothing

universal can be rationally affirmed on any moral or any political

subject. Pure metaphysical abstraction does not belong to these

matters. The lines of morality are not like the ideal lines of

mathematics. They are broad and deep as well as long. They admit of

exceptions; they demand modifications. These exceptions and

modifications are not made by the process of logic, but by the rules of

prudence. Prudence is not only the first in rank of the virtues

political and moral, but she is the director, the regulator, the

standard of them all. Metaphysics cannot live without definition; but

Prudence is cautious how she defines. Our courts cannot be more fearful

in suffering fictitious cases to be brought before them for eliciting

their determination on a point of law than prudent moralists are in

putting extreme and hazardous cases of conscience upon emergencies not

existing. Without attempting, therefore, to define, what never can be

defined, the case of a revolution in government, this, I think, may be

safely affirmed,--that a sore and pressing evil is to be removed, and

that a good, great in its amount and unequivocal in its nature, must be

probable almost to certainty, before the inestimable price of our own

morals and the well-being of a number of our fellow-citizens is paid for

a revolution. If ever we ought to be economists even to parsimony, it is

in the voluntary production of evil. Every revolution contains in it

something of evil.

It must always be, to those who are the greatest amateurs, or even

professors, of revolutions, a matter very hard to prove, that the late

French government was so bad that nothing worse in the infinite devices

of men could come in its place. They who have brought France to its

present condition ought to prove also, by something better than

prattling about the Bastile, that their subverted government was as

incapable as the present certainly is of all improvement and

correction. How dare they to say so who have never made that experiment?

They are experimenters by their trade. They have made an hundred others,

infinitely more hazardous.

The English admirers of the forty-eight thousand republics which form

the French federation praise them not for what they are, but for what

they are to become. They do not talk as politicians, but as prophets.

But in whatever character they choose to found panegyric on prediction,

it will be thought a little singular to praise any work, not for its own

merits, but for the merits of something else which may succeed to it.

When any political institution is praised, in spite of great and

prominent faults of every kind, and in all its parts, it must be

supposed to have something excellent in its fundamental principles. It

must be shown that it is right, though imperfect,--that it is not only

by possibility susceptible of improvement, but that it contains in it a

principle tending to its melioration.

Before they attempt to show this progression of their favorite work from

absolute pravity to finished perfection, they will find themselves

engaged in a civil war with those whose cause they maintain. What! alter

our sublime Constitution, the glory of France, the envy of the world,

the pattern for mankind, the masterpiece of legislation, the collected

and concentrated glory of this enlightened age? Have we not produced it

ready-made and ready-armed, mature in its birth, a perfect goddess of

wisdom and of war, hammered by our blacksmith midwives out of the brain

of Jupiter himself? Have we not sworn our devout, profane, believing,

infidel people to an allegiance to this goddess, even before she had

burst the _dura mater_, and as yet existed only in embryo? Have we not

solemnly declared this Constitution unalterable by any future

legislature? Have we not bound it on posterity forever, though our

abettors have declared that no one generation is competent to bind

another? Have we not obliged the members of every future Assembly to

qualify themselves for their seats by swearing to its conservation?

Indeed, the French Constitution always must be (if a change is not made

in all their principles and fundamental arrangements) a government

wholly by popular representation. It must be this or nothing. The French

faction considers as an usurpation, as an atrocious violation of the

indefensible rights of man, every other description of government. Take

it, or leave it: there is no medium. Let the irrefragable doctors fight

out their own controversy in their own way and with their own weapons;

and when they are tired, let them commence a treaty of peace. Let the

plenipotentiary sophisters of England settle with the diplomatic

sophisters of France in what manner right is to be corrected by an

infusion of wrong, and how truth may be rendered more true by a due

intermixture of falsehood.

* * * * *

Having sufficiently proved that nothing could make it _generally_

improper for Mr. Burke to prove what he had alleged concerning the

object of this dispute, I pass to the second question, that is, Whether

he was justified in choosing the committee on the Quebec Bill as the

field for this discussion? If it were necessary, it might be shown that

he was not the first to bring these discussions into Parliament, nor the

first to renew them in this session. The fact is notorious. As to the

Quebec Bill, they were introduced into the debate upon that subject for

two plain reasons: First, that, as he thought it _then_ not advisable to

make the proceedings of the factious societies the subject of a direct

motion, he had no other way open to him. Nobody has attempted to show

that it was at all admissible into any other business before the House.

Here everything was favorable. Here was a bill to form a new

Constitution for a French province under English dominion. The question

naturally arose, whether we should settle that constitution upon English

ideas, or upon French. This furnished an opportunity for examining into

the value of the French Constitution, either considered as applicable to

colonial government, or in its own nature. The bill, too, was in a

committee. By the privilege of speaking as often as he pleased, he hoped

in some measure to supply the want of support, which he had but too much

reason to apprehend. In a committee it was always in his power to bring

the questions from generalities to facts, from declamation to

discussion. Some benefit he actually received from this privilege. These

are plain, obvious, natural reasons for his conduct. I believe they are

the true, and the only true ones.

They who justify the frequent interruptions, which at length wholly

disabled him from proceeding, attribute their conduct to a very

different interpretation of his motives. They say, that, through

corruption, or malice, or folly, he was acting his part in a plot to

make his friend Mr. Fox pass for a republican, and thereby to prevent

the gracious intentions of his sovereign from taking effect, which at

that time had begun to disclose themselves in his favor.[8] This is a

pretty serious charge. This, on Mr. Burke's part, would be something

more than mistake, something worse than formal irregularity. Any

contumely, any outrage, is readily passed over, by the indulgence which

we all owe to sudden passion. These things are soon forgot upon

occasions in which all men are so apt to forget themselves. Deliberate

injuries, to a degree, must be remembered, because they require

deliberate precautions to be secured against their return.

I am authorized to say for Mr. Burke, that he considers that cause

assigned for the outrage offered to him as ten times worse than the

outrage itself. There is such a strange confusion of ideas on this

subject, that it is far more difficult to understand the nature of the

charge than to refute it when understood. Mr. Fox's friends were, it

seems, seized with a sudden panic terror lest he should pass for a

republican. I do not think they had any ground for this apprehension.

But let us admit they had. What was there in the Quebec Bill, rather

than in any other, which could subject him or them to that imputation?

Nothing in a discussion of the French Constitutions which might arise on

the Quebec Bill, could tend to make Mr. Fox pass for a republican,

except he should take occasion to extol that state of things in France

which affects to be a republic or a confederacy of republics. If such an

encomium could make any unfavorable impression on the king's mind,

surely his voluntary panegyrics on that event, not so much introduced as

intruded into other debates, with which they had little relation, must

have produced that effect with much more certainty and much greater

force. The Quebec Bill, at worst, was only one of those opportunities

carefully sought and industriously improved by himself. Mr. Sheridan had

already brought forth a panegyric on the French system in a still higher

strain, with full as little demand from the nature of the business

before the House, in a speech too good to be speedily forgotten. Mr. Fox

followed him without any direct call from the subject-matter, and upon

the same ground. To canvass the merits of the French Constitution on the

Quebec Bill could not draw forth any opinions which were not brought

forward before, with no small ostentation, and with very little of

necessity, or perhaps of propriety. What mode or what time of discussing

the conduct of the French faction in England would not equally tend to

kindle this enthusiasm, and afford those occasions for panegyric, which,

far from shunning, Mr. Fox has always industriously sought? He himself

said, very truly, in the debate, that no artifices were necessary to

draw from him his opinions upon that subject. But to fall upon Mr. Burke

for making an use, at worst not more irregular, of the same liberty, is

tantamount to a plain declaration that the topic of Franco is _tabooed_

or forbidden ground to Mr. Burke, and to Mr. Burke alone. But surely

Mr. Fox is not a republican; and what should hinder him, when such a

discussion came on, from clearing himself unequivocally (as his friends

say he had done near a fortnight before) of all such imputations?

Instead of being a disadvantage to him, he would have defeated all his

enemies, and Mr. Burke, since he has thought proper to reckon him

amongst them.

But it seems some newspaper or other had imputed to him republican

principles, on occasion of his conduct upon the Quebec Bill. Supposing

Mr. Burke to have seen these newspapers, (which is to suppose more than

I believe to be true,) I would ask, When did the newspapers forbear to

charge Mr Fox, or Mr. Burke himself, with republican principles, or any

other principles which they thought could render both of them odious,

sometimes to one description of people, sometimes to another? Mr. Burke,

since the publication of his pamphlet, has been a thousand times charged

in the newspapers with holding despotic principles. He could not enjoy

one moment of domestic quiet, he could not perform the least particle of

public duty, if he did not altogether disregard the language of those

libels. But, however his sensibility might be affected by such abuse, it

would in _him_ have been thought a most ridiculous reason for shutting

up the mouths of Mr. Fox or Mr. Sheridan, so as to prevent their

delivering their sentiments of the French Revolution, that, forsooth,

"the newspapers had lately charged Mr. Burke with being an enemy to

liberty."

I allow that those gentlemen have privileges to which Mr. Burke has no

claim. But their friends ought to plead those privileges, and not to

assign bad reasons, on the principle of what is fair between man and

man, and thereby to put themselves on a level with those who can so

easily refute them. Let them say at once that his reputation is of no

value, and that he has no call to assert it,--but that theirs is of

infinite concern to the party and the public, and to that consideration

he ought to sacrifice all his opinions and all his feelings.

In that language I should hear a style correspondent to the

proceeding,--lofty, indeed, but plain and consistent. Admit, however,

for a moment, and merely for argument, that this gentleman had as good a

right to continue as they had to begin these discussions; in candor and

equity they must allow that their voluntary descant in praise of the

French Constitution was as much an oblique attack on Mr. Burke as Mr.

Burke's inquiry into the foundation of this encomium could possibly be

construed into an imputation upon them. They well knew that he felt like

other men; and of course he would think it mean and unworthy to decline

asserting in his place, and in the front of able adversaries, the

principles of what he had penned in his closet and without an opponent

before him. They could not but be convinced that declamations of this

kind would rouse him,--that he must think, coming from men of their

calibre, they were highly mischievous,--that they gave countenance to

bad men and bad designs; and though he was aware that the handling such

matters in Parliament was delicate, yet he was a man very likely,

whenever, much against his will, they were brought there, to resolve

that there they should be thoroughly sifted. Mr. Fox, early in the

preceding session, had public notice from Mr. Burke of the light in

which he considered every attempt to introduce the example of France

into the politics of this country, and of his resolution to break with

his host friends and to join with his worst enemies to prevent it. He

hoped that no such necessity would ever exist; but in case it should,

his determination was made. The party knew perfectly that he would at

least defend himself. He never intended to attack Mr. Fox, nor did he

attack him directly or indirectly. His speech kept to its matter. No

personality was employed, even in the remotest allusion. He never did

impute to that gentleman any republican principles, or any other bad

principles or bad conduct whatsoever. It was far from his words; it was

far from his heart. It must be remembered, that, notwithstanding the

attempt of Mr. Fox to fix on Mr. Burke an unjustifiable change of

opinion, and the foul crime of teaching a set of maxims to a boy, and

afterwards, when these maxims became adult in his mature age, of

abandoning both the disciple and the doctrine, Mr. Burke never

attempted, in any one particular, either to criminate or to recriminate.

It may be said that he had nothing of the kind in his power. This he

does not controvert. He certainly had it not in his inclination. That

gentleman had as little ground for the charges which he was so easily

provoked to make upon him.

The gentlemen of the party (I include Mr. Fox) have been kind enough to

consider the dispute brought on by this business, and the consequent

separation of Mr. Burke from their corps, as a matter of regret and

uneasiness. I cannot be of opinion that by his exclusion they have had

any loss at all. A man whose opinions are so very adverse to theirs,

adverse, as it was expressed, "as pole to pole," so mischievously as

well as so directly adverse that they found themselves under the

necessity of solemnly disclaiming them in full Parliament,--such a man

must ever be to them a most unseemly and unprofitable incumbrance. A

coöperation with him could only serve to embarrass them in all their

councils. They have besides publicly represented him as a man capable of

abusing the docility and confidence of ingenuous youth,--and, for a bad

reason or for no reason, of disgracing his whole public life by a

scandalous contradiction of every one of his own acts, writings, and

declarations. If these charges be true, their exclusion of such a person

from their body is a circumstance which does equal honor to their

justice and their prudence. If they express a degree of sensibility in

being obliged to execute this wise and just sentence, from a

consideration of some amiable or some pleasant qualities which in his

private life their former friend may happen to possess, they add to the

praise of their wisdom and firmness the merit of great tenderness of

heart and humanity of disposition.

On their ideas, the new Whig party have, in my opinion, acted as became

them. The author of the Reflections, however, on his part, cannot,

without great shame to himself, and without entailing everlasting

disgrace on his posterity, admit the truth or justice of the charges

which have been made upon him, or allow that he has in those Reflections

discovered any principles to which honest men are bound to declare, not

a shade or two of dissent, but a total, fundamental opposition. He must

believe, if he does not mean wilfully to abandon his cause and his

reputation, that principles fundamentally at variance with those of his

book are fundamentally false. What those principles, the antipodes to

his, really are, he can only discover from their contrariety. He is very

unwilling to suppose that the doctrines of some books lately circulated

are the principles of the party; though, from the vehement declarations

against his opinions, he is at some loss how to judge otherwise.

For the present, my plan does not render it necessary to say anything

further concerning the merits either of the one set of opinions or the

other. The author would have discussed the merits of both in his place,

but he was not permitted to do so.

* * * * *

I pass to the next head of charge,--Mr. Burke's inconsistency. It is

certainly a great aggravation of his fault in embracing false opinions,

that in doing so he is not supposed to fill up a void, but that he is

guilty of a dereliction of opinions that are true and laudable. This is

the great gist of the charge against him. It is not so much that he is

wrong in his book (that, however, is alleged also) as that he has

therein belied his whole life. I believe, if he could venture to value

himself upon anything, it is on the virtue of consistency that he would

value himself the most. Strip him of this, and you leave him naked

indeed.

In the case of any man who had written something, and spoken a great

deal, upon very multifarious matter, during upwards of twenty-five

years' public service, and in as great a variety of important events as

perhaps have ever happened in the same number of years, it would appear

a little hard, in order to charge such a man with inconsistency, to see

collected by his friend a sort of digest of his sayings, even to such

as were merely sportive and jocular. This digest, however, has been

made, with equal pains and partiality, and without bringing out those

passages of his writings which might tend to show with what restrictions

any expressions quoted from him ought to have been understood. From a

great statesman he did not quite expect this mode of inquisition. If it

only appeared in the works of common pamphleteers, Mr. Burke might

safely trust to his reputation. When thus urged, he ought, perhaps, to

do a little more. It shall be as little as possible; for I hope not much

is wanting. To be totally silent on his charges would not be respectful

to Mr. Fox. Accusations sometimes derive a weight from the persons who

make them to which they are not entitled from their matter.

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