‘A Conversation concerning a Right Regulation of Government for
the Common Good of Mankind.’
When the turmoil of the Parliament House had ceased for a time,
Fletcher took up his pen. The edition of his speeches which he
prepared has already been mentioned. _A Speech without-doors
concerning Toleration_, supposed to have been published about this
time, has been attributed to him, but, both in style and argument, it
is unlike anything he is known to have written. He has also been
credited with the authorship of an _Historical Account of the Ancient
Rights and Power of the Parliament of Scotland_, which appeared in
1703. The style is like that of Fletcher, but there is no evidence
that he wrote it. Indeed, a passage in the preface, where he speaks of
the author of the _Discourse of Government with Relation to Militias_
as ‘a very learned gentleman of our own country, a great patron of
liberty, and happy in a polite pen,’ makes it almost impossible. He
composed, however, a short piece in which he embodied his theories of
government, and his views regarding the relations of England and
Scotland, in the form of a dialogue on politics, under the title of
‘_An Account of a Conversation concerning a Right Regulation of
Government for the Common Good of Mankind_: In a Letter to the Marquis
of Montrose, the Earls of Rothes, Roxburghe, and Haddington. From
London the first of December 1703.’ In this little duodecimo, of
ninety-two pages printed in italics, he described himself as walking
slowly on the Mall one morning. The Earl of Cromartie and Sir
Christopher Musgrave met him. Cromartie said he would be glad of
Fletcher’s company at dinner, and introduced him to Sir Christopher,
with whom Fletcher was not previously acquainted. Some compliments
passed between them, and then they went to Cromartie’s lodgings in
Whitehall to pass away the time till dinner.
‘Here, gentlemen,’ said the Earl, ‘you have two of the noblest objects
that can delight the eye--the finest river and the greatest city in
the world.’
From the window they saw a charming view of London and the Thames,
which led them to speak of the wonderful situation of the English
capital; the ground on which it was built, sloping to the river and
giving it a natural drainage; the gravel soil, and the salubrious
climate. Then all the country round--Kent, with its choice fruits;
Hertfordshire, with its fields of golden corn; Essex and Surrey,
producing the best of beef and mutton; and Buckinghamshire, whence
came huge wains laden with wood. The river, too, brought to their
doors the produce of all parts of the world in such plenty that
nowhere else were things so cheap and abundant.
Fletcher, thinking how different it all was from Scotland, said that
he had often admired the peace and happiness of the inhabitants,
caused either by the advantages which they enjoyed, or by their
natural temperament. He spoke of their civil and religious liberty, of
the judgments of Westminster Hall, of the great affairs of the
Parliament of England, of the vast transactions on the Exchange, of
the shipping, and of the flourishing trade. He was going on to praise
the recreations and pleasures of the court and the town, when Sir
Christopher called out that these last words had spoilt all he said
before. Talking about the pleasures of the town, he said, reminded
them of all the cheating on the Exchange and in the gaming-houses, and
of the facilities for intrigues which were afforded by the masques,
the hackney coaches, the taverns, and the playhouses of a great city.
This interruption to the flow of Fletcher’s eloquence led them to
discuss social questions. But the problem of how to reform the morals
of society seemed insoluble, and especially in London, where, as Sir
Christopher pointed out, they had to deal both with extreme poverty
and excessive riches. While they were thus conversing, Sir Edward
Seymour arrived, and Fletcher was presented to him.
‘Ah,’ said Sir Edward, ‘you are one of those who, in the late session
of the Scots Parliament, opposed the interests of the Court.’
Then they began to talk politics, and Seymour said Fletcher had been
engaged in framing Utopias. ‘In which, sir,’ he said, ‘you had the
honour to be seconded by several men of quality, of about two or three
and twenty years of age, whose long experience and consummate prudence
in public affairs could not but produce wonderful schemes of
government.’
Fletcher took this sally in good part, and was defending himself
stoutly, when Sir Edward interrupted him.
‘Sir,’ he said, with a sneer, ‘you begin to declaim as if they
overheard you.’
But Fletcher maintained that the Country Party had been right in
acting as they did.
‘Pray, sir,’ asked Seymour, ‘of what is it that they complain?’
Fletcher’s answer was that Scotland was an independent nation, and
that the National Party wanted to secure the honour of the Scottish
Crown, and the freedom of their own Parliament and trade, from either
English or foreign influence.
‘Heyday!’ cried Sir Edward, all in a pet. ‘Here is a fine cant indeed!
Independent nation! Honour of our Crown! And what not? Do you consider
what proportion you bear to England? Not one to forty in rents of
lands. Besides, our greatest riches arise from trade and manufactures,
of which you have none.’
To all this Fletcher replied by saying that the Union of the Crowns
had ruined Scotland; that the French trade had once been great, and
also the Spanish trade, whilst Spain and England were at war; but that
since the Union of the Crowns everything had changed. The Scottish
nobles spent their money in England, and the jealousy of English
merchants had prevented the growth of Scottish commerce.
Here Cromartie said that, in his opinion, there was an easy remedy for
all this, ‘which was an Union of the two nations.’ But Fletcher
thought that an Union would not easily come to pass, nor would it be a
remedy for the grievances he complained of. England, it seemed to him,
had never shown any real willingness to unite. ‘I have always
observed,’ he said, ‘that a Treaty of Union has never been mentioned
by the English, but with a design to amuse us when they apprehended
some danger from our nation.’ This was, he had no doubt, the reason
for the late treaty. England, having chosen a successor to Queen Anne
without consulting Scotland, had thought that the only way to gain
the assent of the Scottish people to the Hanoverian succession was to
propose an Union. Then he gave an account of the state of public
feeling in Scotland on that subject. ‘The Scots, however fond they
have formerly been of such a coalition, are now become much less
concerned for the success of it, from a just sense they have that it
would not only prove no remedy for our present ill condition, but
increase the poverty of our country.’
He gave his reasons. An incorporating Union, which would abolish the
Scottish Parliament, would make Scotland poorer than ever, because
Scotsmen would spend more money than ever in England. Members of
Parliament would go to London and live there. No Scotsman who wanted
public employment would ever set foot in Scotland. Every man who made
a fortune in England would buy land there. The trade of Scotland would
be nothing more than an inconsiderable retail business in an
impoverished country.
Cromartie said he did not think so, and tried to convince Fletcher
that free commerce with England, and the right of trading to the
Colonies, would be an immense boon to Scotland.
‘For my part,’ exclaimed Fletcher, ‘I cannot see what advantages a
free trade to the English plantations would bring us, except a further
exhausting of our people, and the utter ruin of all our merchants,
who should vainly pretend to carry that trade from the English.’
Then he said that the Scots had a further grievance against England.
They were indignant at the scurrilous attacks which were made upon
them by Englishmen.
Here Sir Edward broke out ‘all in a flame.’
‘What a pother is here,’ he cried, ‘about an Union with Scotland, of
which all the advantage we shall have will be no more than what a man
gets by marrying a beggar--a louse for a portion!’
At this Fletcher fired up, and told Cromartie and Sir Christopher that
if Sir Edward had spoken these words in the House of Commons,[6] he
might not notice them, but that as he had chosen to use them in a
private conversation, he would take the liberty to say that he
wondered Sir Edward was not afraid lest such language should make the
company suspect him not to be descended of the noble family whose name
he bore. This pretty way of saying he was no gentleman put Sir Edward
into a towering rage, and they came to high words about the past wars
between the two countries.
[6] Sir Edward Seymour had actually used these words in the
House of Commons.
‘’Tis inseparable from the fortunes of our Edwards to triumph over
your nation,’ he said.
‘Do you mean,’ retorted Fletcher, ‘Edward of Carnarvon and his victory
at Bannockburn?’
The altercation was stopped by Sir Christopher, who adroitly changed
the subject, and asked Fletcher what he thought of an Union between
England and Ireland.
‘The better conditions you give them,’ Fletcher represents himself as
saying, ‘the greater wisdom you will show.’
‘But you do not consider,’ said Sir Christopher, ‘that Ireland lies
more commodiously situated for trade, and has better harbours than
England, and if they had the same freedom and privileges, might carry
the trade from us.’
‘Ay,’ said Fletcher, ‘there ’tis. Trade is the constant
stumbling-block and ball of contention. But do you think that if
Ireland, by a just and equal Union with England, should increase in
riches, such an increase would prove so prejudicial to England, where
the seat of the Government is?’
Sir Christopher argued that England, having conquered Ireland, had a
right to use the Irish people ‘at discretion.’
‘Then,’ replied Fletcher, ‘you have a right to do injustice.’
‘’Tis not injustice,’ said Sir Christopher, ‘because it is our right.’
The danger, he argued, is that Ireland may break away from England,
and ‘set up a distinct Government in opposition to our right, and
perhaps with the ruin of this nation.’ ‘What can tempt and provoke
them so much,’ asked Fletcher, ‘to do so, as unjust usage?’ ‘But the
surest way,' was the reply, ‘is to put it out of their power to
separate from us.’ ‘If so,’ said Fletcher, ‘you must own your way of
governing that people to be an oppression; since your design is to
keep them low and weak, and not to encourage either virtue or
industry.’
He went on to expound his theory, which was that London should no
longer be the only seat of Government, but that England, Scotland, and
Ireland should be joined together in a federal Union. ‘That London,’ he
said, ‘should draw the riches and government of the three kingdoms to
the south-east corner of this island, is in some degree as unnatural
as for one city to possess the riches and government of the world....
I shall add that so many different seats of Government will highly
encourage virtue. For all the same offices that belong to a great
kingdom must be in each of them; with this difference, that the
offices of such a kingdom being always burdened with more business
than any one man can rightly execute, most things are abandoned to the
rapacity of servants; and the extravagant profits of great officers
plunge them into all manner of luxury, and debauch them from doing
good; whereas the offices of these lesser Governments, extending only
over a moderate number of people, will be duly executed, and many men
have occasions put into their hands of doing good to their
fellow-citizens. So many different seats of Government will highly
tend to the improvement of all arts and sciences, and afford great
variety of entertainment to all foreigners, and others of a curious
and inquisitive genius, as the ancient cities of Greece did.’
‘I perceive now,’ Sir Edward broke in, ‘the tendency of all this
discourse. On my conscience, he has contrived the whole scheme to no
other end than to set his own country on an equal foot with England
and the rest of the world.’
Fletcher’s answer was that Scotland, if separated from England, must
be involved in constant war; but that if united to England, and at the
same time left in possession of the power of self-government, she
would be prosperous. ‘This,’ he exclaimed, ‘is the only just and
rational kind of Union. All other coalitions are but the unjust
subjection of one people to another.’
At this point the conversation ended. ‘I was going on,’ he concludes,
‘to open many things concerning those leagued Governments, when a
servant came to acquaint us that dinner was set on the table. We were
nobly entertained, and after dinner I took leave of the company, and
returned to my lodgings, having promised to meet them again at another
time to discourse further on the same subject.’
This imaginary dialogue is perhaps the best known of Fletcher’s
writings. The style almost approaches that of the _Tatlers_ and
_Spectators_, and it contains the well-known saying about ballads. Sir
Christopher alludes to the infamous ballads which were sung in the
streets of London, and their bad influence on the morals of the
people. ‘One would think,’ says Cromartie, ‘this last were of no great
consequence.’
‘I knew,’ remarks Fletcher, ‘a very wise man so much of Sir
Christopher’s sentiment that he believed if a man were permitted to
make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a
nation.’
The ‘very wise man’ is, of course, Fletcher’s ironical description of
himself; and the epigram may be taken as an instance of the kind of
humour which flashes out, every now and then, in his treatment of the
grave topics on which he most delights to dwell. Lord Buchan has
preserved another instance of Fletcher’s irony. ‘Fletcher,’ he says,
‘used to say with Cromwell and Milton that the trappings of a monarchy
and a great aristocracy would patch up a very clever little
commonwealth.’ Being in company with the witty Dr. Pitcairn, the
conversation turned on a person of learning whose history was not
distinctly known. ‘I knew the man well,’ said Fletcher; ‘he was
hereditary Professor of Divinity at Hamburgh.’ ‘_Hereditary_
Professor!’ said Pitcairn, with a laugh of astonishment and derision.
‘Yes, Doctor,’ replied Fletcher, ‘hereditary Professor of Divinity.
What think you of an hereditary King?’