In estimating danger, we are obliged to take into our calculation the

character and disposition of the enemy into whose hands we may chance to

fall. The genius of this faction is easily discerned, by observing with

what a very different eye they have viewed the late foreign revolutions.

Two have passed before them: that of France, and that of Poland. The

state of Poland was such, that there could scarcely exist two opinions,

but that a reformation of its Constitution, even at some expense of

blood, might be seen without much disapprobation. No confusion could be

feared in such an enterprise; because the establishment to be reformed

was itself a state of confusion. A king without authority; nobles

without union or subordination; a people without arts, industry,

commerce, or liberty; no order within, no defence without; no effective

public force, but a foreign force, which entered, a naked country at

will, and disposed of everything at pleasure. Here was a state of things

which seemed to invite, and might perhaps justify, bold enterprise and

desperate experiment. But in what manner was this chaos brought into

order? The means were as striking to the imagination as satisfactory to

the reason and soothing to the moral sentiments. In contemplating that

change, humanity has everything to rejoice and to glory in,--nothing to

be ashamed of, nothing to suffer. So far as it has gone, it probably is

the most pure and defecated public good which ever has been conferred on

mankind. We have seen anarchy and servitude at once removed; a throne

strengthened for the protection of the people, without trenching on

their liberties; all foreign cabal banished, by changing the crown from

elective to hereditary; and what was a matter of pleasing wonder, we

have seen a reigning king, from an heroic love to his country, exerting

himself with all the toil, the dexterity, the management, the intrigue,

in favor of a family of strangers, with which ambitious men labor for

the aggrandizement of their own. Ten millions of men in a way of being

freed gradually, and therefore safely to themselves and the state, not

from civil or political chains, which, bad as they are, only fetter the

mind, but from substantial personal bondage. Inhabitants of cities,

before without privileges, placed in the consideration which belongs to

that improved and connecting situation of social life. One of the most

proud, numerous, and fierce bodies of nobility and gentry ever known in

the world arranged only in the foremost rank of free and generous

citizens. Not one man incurred loss or suffered degradation. All, from

the king to the day-laborer, were improved in their condition.

Everything was kept in its place and order; but in that place and order

everything was bettered. To add to this happy wonder, this unheard-of

conjunction of wisdom and fortune, not one drop of blood was spilled; no

treachery; no outrage; no system of slander more cruel than the sword;

no studied insults on religion, morals, or manners; no spoil; no

confiscation; no citizen beggared; none imprisoned; none exiled: the

whole was effected with a policy, a discretion, an unanimity and

secrecy, such as have never been before known on any occasion; but such

wonderful conduct was reserved for this glorious conspiracy in favor of

the true and genuine rights and interests of men. Happy people, if they

know to proceed as they have begun! Happy prince, worthy to begin with

splendor or to close with glory a race of patriots and of kings, and to

leave

A name, which every wind to heaven would bear,

Which men to speak, and angels joy to hear!

To finish all,--this great good, as in the instant it is, contains in it

the seeds of all further improvement, and may be considered as in a

regular progress, because founded on similar principles, towards the

stable excellence of a British Constitution.

Here was a matter for congratulation and for festive remembrance through

ages. Here moralists and divines might indeed relax in their temperance,

to exhilarate their humanity. But mark the character of our faction.

All their enthusiasm is kept for the French Revolution. They cannot

pretend that France had stood so much in need of a change as Poland.

They cannot pretend that Poland has not obtained a better system of

liberty or of government than it enjoyed before. They cannot assert that

the Polish Revolution cost more dearly than that of France to the

interests and feelings of multitudes of men. But the cold and

subordinate light in which they look upon the one, and the pains they

take to preach up the other of these Revolutions, leave us no choice in

fixing on their motives. Both Revolutions profess liberty as their

object; but in obtaining this object the one proceeds from anarchy to

order, the other from order to anarchy. The first secures its liberty by

establishing its throne; the other builds its freedom on the subversion

of its monarchy. In the one, their means are unstained by crimes, and

their settlement favors morality; in the other, vice and confusion are

in the very essence of their pursuit, and of their enjoyment. The

circumstances in which these two events differ must cause the difference

we make in their comparative estimation. These turn the scale with the

societies in favor of France. _Ferrum est quod amant_. The frauds, the

violences, the sacrileges, the havoc and ruin of families, the

dispersion and exile of the pride and flower of a great country, the

disorder, the confusion, the anarchy, the violation of property, the

cruel murders, the inhuman confiscations, and in the end the insolent

domination of bloody, ferocious, and senseless clubs,--these are the

things which they love and admire. What men admire and love they would

surely act. Let us see what is done in France; and then let us

undervalue any the slightest danger of falling into the hands of such a

merciless and savage faction!

"But the leaders of the factious societies are too wild to succeed in

this their undertaking." I hope so. But supposing them wild and absurd,

is there no danger but from wise and reflecting men? Perhaps the

greatest mischiefs that have happened in the world have happened from

persons as wild as those we think the wildest. In truth, they are the

fittest beginners of all great changes. Why encourage men in a

mischievous proceeding, because their absurdity may disappoint their

malice?--"But noticing them may give them consequence." Certainly. But

they are noticed; and they are noticed, not with reproof, but with that

kind of countenance which is given by an _apparent_ concurrence (not a

_real_ one, I am convinced) of a great party in the praises of the

object which they hold out to imitation.

But I hear a language still more extraordinary, and indeed of such a

nature as must suppose or leave us at their mercy. It is this:--"You

know their promptitude in writing, and their diligence in caballing; to

write, speak, or act against them will only stimulate them to new

efforts." This way of considering the principle of their conduct pays

but a poor compliment to these gentlemen. They pretend that their

doctrines are infinitely beneficial to mankind; but it seems they would

keep them to themselves, if they were not greatly provoked. They are

benevolent from spite. Their oracles are like those of Proteus, (whom

some people think they resemble in many particulars,) who never would

give his responses, unless you used him as ill as possible. These cats,

it seems, would not give out their electrical light without having

their backs well rubbed. But this is not to do them perfect justice.

They are sufficiently communicative. Had they been quiet, the propriety

of any agitation of topics on the origin and primary rights of

government, in opposition to their private sentiments, might possibly be

doubted. But, as it is notorious that they were proceeding as fast and

as far as time and circumstances would admit, both in their discussions

and cabals,--as it is not to be denied that they had opened a

correspondence with a foreign faction the most wicked the world ever

saw, and established anniversaries to commemorate the most monstrous,

cruel, and perfidious of all the proceedings of that faction,--the

question is, whether their conduct was to be regarded in silence, lest

our interference should render them outrageous. Then let them deal as

they please with the Constitution. Let the lady be passive, lest the

ravisher should be driven to force. Resistance will only increase his

desires. Yes, truly, if the resistance be feigned and feeble. But they

who are wedded to the Constitution will not act the part of wittols.

They will drive such seducers from the house on the first appearance of

their love-letters and offered assignations. But if the author of the

Reflections, though a vigilant, was not a discreet guardian of the

Constitution, let them who have the same regard to it show themselves as

vigilant and more skilful in repelling the attacks of seduction or

violence. Their freedom from jealousy is equivocal, and may arise as

well from indifference to the object as from confidence in her virtue.

On their principle, it is the resistance, and not the assault, which

produces the danger. I admit, indeed, that, if we estimated the danger

by the value of the writings, it would be little worthy of our

attention: contemptible these writings are in every sense. But they are

not the cause, they are the disgusting symptoms of a frightful

distemper. They are not otherwise of consequence than as they show the

evil habit of the bodies from whence they come. In that light the

meanest of them is a serious thing. If, however, I should underrate

them, and if the truth is, that they are not the result, but the cause,

of the disorders I speak of, surely those who circulate operative

poisons, and give to whatever force they have by their nature the

further operation of their authority and adoption, are to be censured,

watched, and, if possible, repressed.

At what distance the direct danger from such factions may be it is not

easy to fix. An adaptation of circumstances to designs and principles is

necessary. But these cannot be wanting for any long time, in the

ordinary course of sublunary affairs. Great discontents frequently arise

in the best constituted governments from causes which no human wisdom

can foresee and no human power can prevent. They occur at uncertain

periods, but at periods which are not commonly far asunder. Governments

of all kinds are administered only by men; and great mistakes, tending

to inflame these discontents, may concur. The indecision of those who

happen to rule at the critical time, their supine neglect, or their

precipitate and ill-judged attention, may aggravate the public

misfortunes. In such a state of things, the principles, now only sown,

will shoot out and vegetate in full luxuriance. In such circumstances

the minds of the people become sore and ulcerated. They are put out of

humor with all public men and all public parties; they are fatigued

with their dissensions; they are irritated at their coalitions; they are

made easily to believe (what much pains are taken to make them believe)

that all oppositions are factious, and all courtiers base and servile.

From their disgust at men, they are soon led to quarrel with their frame

of government, which they presume gives nourishment to the vices, real

or supposed, of those who administer in it. Mistaking malignity for

sagacity, they are soon led to cast off all hope from a good

administration of affairs, and come to think that all reformation

depends, not on a change of actors, but upon an alteration in the

machinery. Then will be felt the full effect of encouraging doctrines

which tend to make the citizens despise their Constitution. Then will be

felt the plenitude of the mischief of teaching the people to believe

that all ancient institutions are the results of ignorance, and that all

prescriptive government is in its nature usurpation. Then will be felt,

in all its energy, the danger of encouraging a spirit of litigation in

persons of that immature and imperfect state of knowledge which serves

to render them susceptible of doubts, but incapable of their solution.

Then will be felt, in all its aggravation, the pernicious consequence of

destroying all docility in the minds of those who are not formed for

finding their own way in the labyrinths of political theory, and are

made to reject the clew and to disdain the guide. Then will be felt, and

too late will be acknowledged, the ruin which follows the disjoining of

religion from the state, the separation of morality from policy, and the

giving conscience no concern and no coactive or coercive force in the

most material of all the social ties, the principle of our obligations

to government.

I know, too, that, besides this vain, contradictory, and

self-destructive security which some men derive from the habitual

attachment of the people to this Constitution, whilst they suffer it

with a sort of sportive acquiescence to be brought into contempt before

their faces, they have other grounds for removing all apprehension from

their minds. They are of opinion that there are too many men of great

hereditary estates and influence in the kingdom to suffer the

establishment of the levelling system which has taken place in France.

This is very true, if, in order to guide the power which now attends

their property, these men possess the wisdom which is involved in early

fear. But if, through a supine security, to which such fortunes are

peculiarly liable, they neglect the use of their influence in the season

of their power, on the first derangement of society the nerves of their

strength will be cut. Their estates, instead of being the means of their

security, will become the very causes of their danger. Instead of

bestowing influence, they will excite rapacity. They will be looked to

as a prey.

Such will be the impotent condition of those men of great hereditary

estates, who indeed dislike the designs that are carried on, but whose

dislike is rather that of spectators than of parties that may be

concerned in the catastrophe of the piece. But riches do not in all

cases secure even an inert and passive resistance. There are always in

that description men whose fortunes, when their minds are once vitiated

by passion or by evil principle, are by no means a security from their

actually taking their part against the public tranquillity. We see to

what low and despicable passions of all kinds many men in that class

are ready to sacrifice the patrimonial estates which might be

perpetuated in their families with splendor, and with the fame of

hereditary benefactors to mankind, from generation to generation. Do we

not see how lightly people treat their fortunes, when under the

influence of the passion of gaming? The game of ambition or resentment

will be played by many of the rich and great as desperately, and with as

much blindness to the consequences, as any other game. Was he a man of

no rank or fortune who first set on foot the disturbances which have

ruined France? Passion blinded him to the consequences, so far as they

concerned himself; and as to the consequences with regard to others,

they were no part of his consideration,--nor ever will be with those who

bear any resemblance to that virtuous patriot and lover of the rights of

man.

There is also a time of insecurity, when interests of all sorts become

objects of speculation. Then it is that their very attachment to wealth

and importance will induce several persons of opulence to list

themselves and even to take a lead with the party which they think most

likely to prevail, in order to obtain to themselves consideration in

some new order or disorder of things. They may be led to act in this

manner, that they may secure some portion of their own property, and

perhaps to become partakers of the spoil of their own order. Those who

speculate on change always make a great number among people of rank and

fortune, as well as amongst the low and the indigent.

What security against all this?--All human securities are liable to

uncertainty. But if anything bids fair for the prevention of so great a

calamity, it must consist in the use of the ordinary means of just

influence in society, whilst those means continue unimpaired. The public

judgment ought to receive a proper direction. All weighty men may have

their share in so good a work. As yet, notwithstanding the strutting and

lying independence of a braggart philosophy, Nature maintains her

rights, and great names have great prevalence. Two such men as Mr. Pitt

and Mr. Fox, adding to their authority in a point in which they concur

even by their disunion in everything else, might frown these wicked

opinions out of the kingdom. But if the influence of either of them, or

the influence of men like them, should, against their serious

intentions, be otherwise perverted, they may countenance opinions which

(as I have said before, and could wish over and over again to press)

they may in vain attempt to control. In their theory, these doctrines

admit no limit, no qualification whatsoever. No man can say how far he

will go, who joins with those who are avowedly going to the utmost

extremities. What security is there for stopping short at all in these

wild conceits? Why, neither more nor less than this,--that the moral

sentiments of some few amongst them do put some check on their savage

theories. But let us take care. The moral sentiments, so nearly

connected with early prejudice as to be almost one and the same thing,

will assuredly not live long under a discipline which has for its basis

the destruction of all prejudices, and the making the mind proof against

all dread of consequences flowing from the pretended truths that are

taught by their philosophy.

In this school the moral sentiments must grow weaker and weaker every

day. The more cautious of these teachers, in laying down their maxims,

draw as much of the conclusion as suits, not with their premises, but

with their policy. They trust the rest to the sagacity of their pupils.

Others, and these are the most vaunted for their spirit, not only lay

down the same premises, but boldly draw the conclusions, to the

destruction of our whole Constitution in Church and State. But are these

conclusions truly drawn? Yes, most certainly. Their principles are wild

and wicked; but let justice be done even to frenzy and villany. These

teachers are perfectly systematic. No man who assumes their grounds can

tolerate the British Constitution in Church or State. These teachers

profess to scorn all mediocrity,--to engage for perfection,--to proceed

by the simplest and shortest course. They build their politics, not on

convenience, but on truth; and they profess to conduct men to certain

happiness by the assertion of their undoubted rights. With them there is

no compromise. All other governments are usurpations, which justify and

even demand resistance.

Their principles always go to the extreme. They who go with the

principles of the ancient Whigs, which are those contained in Mr.

Burke's book, never can go too far. They may, indeed, stop short of some

hazardous and ambiguous excellence, which they will be taught to

postpone to any reasonable degree of good they may actually possess. The

opinions maintained in that book never can lead to an extreme, because

their foundation is laid in an opposition to extremes. The foundation of

government is there laid, not in imaginary rights of men, (which at best

is a confusion of judicial with civil principles,) but in political

convenience, and in human nature,--either as that nature is universal,

or as it is modified by local habits and social aptitudes. The

foundation of government (those who have read that book will recollect)

is laid in a provision for our wants and in a conformity to our duties:

it is to purvey for the one, it is to enforce the other. These doctrines

do of themselves gravitate to a middle point, or to some point near a

middle. They suppose, indeed, a certain portion of liberty to be

essential to all good government; but they infer that this liberty is to

be blended into the government, to harmonize with its forms and its

rules, and to be made subordinate to its end. Those who are not with

that book are with its opposite; for there is no medium besides the

medium itself. That medium is not such because it is found there, but it

is found there because it is conformable to truth and Nature. In this we

do not follow the author, but we and the author travel together upon the

same safe and middle path.

The theory contained in his book is not to furnish principles for making

a new Constitution, but for illustrating the principles of a

Constitution already made. It is a theory drawn from the _fact_ of our

government. They who oppose it are bound to show that his theory

militates with that fact; otherwise, their quarrel is not with his book,

but with the Constitution of their country. The whole scheme of our

mixed Constitution is to prevent any one of its principles from being

carried as far as, taken by itself, and theoretically, it would go.

Allow that to be the true policy of the British system, then most of the

faults with which that system stands charged will appear to be, not

imperfections into which it has inadvertently fallen, but excellencies

which it has studiously sought. To avoid the perfections of extreme,

all its several parts are so constituted as not alone to answer their

own several ends, but also each to limit and control the others;

insomuch that, take which of the principles you please, you will find

its operation checked and stopped at a certain point. The whole movement

stands still rather than that any part should proceed beyond its

boundary. From thence it results that in the British Constitution there

is a perpetual treaty and compromise going on, sometimes openly,

sometimes with less observation. To him who contemplates the British

Constitution, as to him who contemplates the subordinate material world,

it will always be a matter of his most curious investigation to discover

the secret of this mutual limitation.

_Finita_ potestas denique _cuique_

Quanam sit ratione, atque alte terminus hærens?

They who have acted, as in France they have done, upon a scheme wholly

different, and who aim at the abstract and unlimited perfection of power

in the popular part, can be of no service to us in any of our political

arrangements. They who in their headlong career have overpassed the goal

can furnish no example to those who aim to go no further. The temerity

of such speculators is no more an example than the timidity of others.

The one sort scorns the right; the other fears it; both miss it. But

those who by violence go beyond the barrier are without question the

most mischievous; because, to go beyond it, they overturn and destroy

it. To say they have spirit is to say nothing in their praise. The

untempered spirit of madness, blindness, immorality, and impiety

deserves no commendation. He that sets his house on fire because his

fingers are frost-bitten can never be a fit instructor in the method of

providing our habitations with a cheerful and salutary warmth. We want

no foreign examples to rekindle in us the flame of liberty. The example

of our own ancestors is abundantly sufficient to maintain the spirit of

freedom in its full vigor, and to qualify it in all its exertions. The

example of a wise, moral, well-natured, and well-tempered spirit of

freedom is that alone which can be useful to us, or in the least degree

reputable or safe. Our fabric is so constituted, one part of it bears so

much on the other, the parts are so made for one another, and for

nothing else, that to introduce any foreign matter into it is to destroy

it.

What has been said of the Roman Empire is at least as true of the

British Constitution:--"_Octingentorum annorum fortuna disciplinaque

compages hæc coaluit; quæ convelli sine convellentium exitio non

potest_." This British Constitution has not been struck out at an heat

by a set of presumptuous men, like the Assembly of pettifoggers run mad

in Paris.

"'Tis not the hasty product of a day,

But the well-ripened fruit of wise delay."

It is the result of the thoughts of many minds in many ages. It is no

simple, no superficial thing, nor to be estimated by superficial

understandings. An ignorant man, who is not fool enough to meddle with

his clock, is, however, sufficiently confident to think he can safely

take to pieces and put together, at his pleasure, a moral machine of

another guise, importance, and complexity, composed of far other wheels

and springs and balances and counteracting and coöperating powers. Men

little think how immorally they act in rashly meddling with what they

do not understand. Their delusive good intention is no sort of excuse

for their presumption. They who truly mean well must be fearful of

acting ill. The British Constitution may have its advantages pointed out

to wise and reflecting minds, but it is of too high an order of

excellence to be adapted to those which are common. It takes in too many

views, it makes too many combinations, to be so much as comprehended by

shallow and superficial understandings. Profound thinkers will know it

in its reason and spirit. The less inquiring will recognize it in their

feelings and their experience. They will thank God they have a standard,

which, in the most essential point of this great concern, will put them

on a par with the most wise and knowing.

The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. 04 (of 12) · 第 13 / 32 段