_Picture of the English Government._
The establishment of a government is a matter of curious and interesting
investigation. I shall not speak, in this place, of the great Tamerlane,
or Timerling, because I am not precisely acquainted with the mystery of
the Great Mogul's government. But we can see our way somewhat more
clearly into the administration of affairs in England; and I had rather
examine that than the administration of India; as England, we are
informed, is inhabited by free men and not by slaves; and in India,
according to the accounts we have of it, there are many slaves and but
few free men.
Let us, in the first place, view a Norman bastard seating himself upon
the throne of England. He had about as much right to it as St. Louis
had, at a later period, to Grand Cairo. But St. Louis had the misfortune
not to begin with obtaining a judicial decision in favor of his right to
Egypt from the court of Rome; and William the Bastard failed not to
render his cause legitimate and sacred, by obtaining in confirmation of
the rightfulness of his claim, a decree of Pope Alexander II. issued
without the opposite party having obtained a hearing, and simply in
virtue of the words, "Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth, shall be
bound in heaven." His competitor, Harold, a perfectly legitimate
monarch, being thus bound by a decree of heaven, William united to this
virtue of the holy see another of far more powerful efficacy still,
which was the victory of Hastings. He reigned, therefore, by the right
of the strongest, just as Pepin and Clovis had reigned in France; the
Goths and Lombards in Italy; the Visigoths, and afterwards the Arabs in
Spain; the Vandals in Africa, and all the kings of the world in
succession.
It must be nevertheless admitted, that our Bastard possessed as just a
title as the Saxons and the Danes, whose title, again, was quite as good
as that of the Romans. And the title of all these heroes in succession
was precisely that of "robbers on the highway," or, if you like it
better, that of foxes and pole-cats when they commit their depredations
on the farm-yard.
All these great men were so completely highway robbers, that from the
time of Romulus down to the buccaneers, the only question and concern
were about the "_spolia opima_," the pillage and plunder, the cows and
oxen carried off by the hand of violence. Mercury, in the fable, steals
the cows of Apollo; and in the Old Testament, Isaiah assigns the name of
robber to the son whom his wife was to bring into the world, and who was
to be an important and sacred type. That name was Mahershalalhashbaz,
"divide speedily the soil." We have already observed, that the names of
soldier and robber were often synonymous.
Thus then did William soon become king by divine right. William Rufus,
who usurped the crown over his elder brother, was also king by divine
right, without any difficulty; and the same right attached after him to
Henry, the third usurper.
The Norman barons who had joined at their own expense in the invasion of
England, were desirous of compensation. It was necessary to grant it,
and for this purpose to make them great vassals, and great officers of
the crown. They became possessed of the finest estates. It is evident
that William would rather, had he dared, have kept all to himself, and
made all these lords his guards and lackeys. But this would have been
too dangerous an attempt. He was obliged, therefore, to divide and
distribute.
With respect to the Anglo-Saxon lords, there was no very easy way of
killing, or even making slaves of the whole of them. They were
permitted in their own districts, to enjoy the rank and denomination of
lords of the manor--_seignieurs châtelans_. They held of the great
Norman vassals, who held of William.
By this system everything was kept in equilibrium until the breaking out
of the first quarrel. And what became of the rest of the nation? The
same that had become of nearly all the population of Europe. They became
serfs or villeins.
At length, after the frenzy of the Crusades, the ruined princes sell
liberty to the serfs of the glebe, who had obtained money by labor and
commerce. Cities are made free, the commons are granted certain
privileges; and the rights of men revive even out of anarchy itself.
The barons were everywhere in contention with their king, and with one
another. The contention became everywhere a petty intestine war, made up
out of numberless civil wars. From this abominable and gloomy chaos
appeared a feeble gleam, which enlightened the commons, and considerably
improved their situation.
The kings of England, being themselves great vassals of France for
Normandy, and afterwards for Guienne and other provinces, easily adopted
the usages of the kings from whom they held. The states of the realm
were long made up, as in France, of barons and bishops.
The English court of chancery was an imitation of the council of state,
of which the chancellor of France was president. The court of king's
bench was formed on the model of the parliament instituted by Philip le
Bel. The common pleas were like the jurisdiction of the châtelat. The
court of exchequer resembled that of the superintendents of the
finances--_généraux des finances_--which became, in France, the court of
aids.
The maxim that the king's domain is inalienable is evidently taken from
the system of French government.
The right of the king of England to call on his subjects to pay his
ransom, should he become a prisoner of war; that of requiring a subsidy
when he married his eldest daughter, and when he conferred the honor of
knighthood on his son; all these circumstances call to recollection the
ancient usages of a kingdom of which William was the chief vassal.
Scarcely had Philip le Bel summoned the commons to the states-general,
before Edward, king of England, adopted the like measure, in order to
balance the great power of the barons. For it was under this monarch's
reign that the commons were first clearly and distinctly summoned to
parliament.
We perceive, then, that up to this epoch in the fourteenth century, the
English government followed regularly in the steps of France. The two
churches are entirely alike; the same subjection to the court of Rome;
the same exactions which are always complained of, but, in the end,
always paid to that rapacious court; the same dissensions, somewhat
more or less violent; the same excommunications; the same donations to
monks; the same chaos; the same mixture of holy rapine, superstition,
and barbarism.
As France and England, then, were for so long a period governed by the
same principles, or rather without any principle at all, and merely by
usages of a perfectly similar character, how is it that, at length, the
two governments have become as different as those of Morocco and Venice?
It is, perhaps, in the first place to be ascribed to the circumstance of
England, or rather Great Britain, being an island, in consequence of
which the king has been under no necessity of constantly keeping up a
considerable standing army which might more frequently be employed
against the nation itself than against foreigners.
It may be further observed, that the English appear to have in the
structure of their minds something more firm, more reflective, more
persevering, and, perhaps, more obstinate, than some other nations.
To this latter circumstance it may be probably attributed, that, after
incessantly complaining of the court of Rome, they at length completely
shook off its disgraceful yoke; while a people of more light and
volatile character has continued to wear it, affecting at the same time
to laugh and dance in its chains.
The insular situation of the English, by inducing the necessity of
urging to the particular pursuit and practice of navigation, has
probably contributed to the result we are here considering, by giving to
the natives a certain sternness and ruggedness of manners.
These stern and rugged manners, which have made their island the theatre
of many a bloody tragedy, have also contributed, in all probability, to
inspire a generous frankness.
It is in consequence of this combination of opposite qualities that so
much royal blood has been shed in the field, and on the scaffold, and
yet poison, in all their long and violent domestic contentions, has
never been resorted to; whereas, in other countries, under priestly
domination poison has been the prevailing weapon of destruction.
The love of liberty appears to have advanced, and to have characterized
the English, in proportion as they have advanced in knowledge and in
wealth. All the citizens of a state cannot be equally powerful, but they
may be equally free. And this high point of distinction and enjoyment
the English, by their firmness and intrepidity, have at length attained.
To be free is to be dependent only on the laws. The English, therefore,
have ever loved the laws, as fathers love their children, because they
are, or at least think themselves, the framers of them.
A government like this could be established only at a late period;
because it was necessary long to struggle with powers which commanded
respect, or at least, impressed awe--the power of the pope, the most
terrible of all, as it was built on prejudice and ignorance; the royal
power ever tending to burst its proper boundary, and which it was
requisite, however difficult, to restrain within it; the power of the
barons, which was, in fact, an anarchy; the power of the bishops, who,
always mixing the sacred with the profane, left no means unattempted to
prevail over both barons and kings.
The house of commons gradually became the impregnable mole, which
successfully repelled those serious and formidable torrents.
The house of commons is, in reality, the nation; for the king, who is
the head, acts only for himself, and what is called his prerogative. The
peers are a parliament only for themselves; and the bishops only for
themselves, in the same manner.
But the house of commons is for the people, as every member of it is
deputed by the people. The people are to the king in the proportion of
about eight millions to unity. To the peers and bishops they are as
eight millions to, at most, two hundred. And these eight million free
citizens are represented by the lower house.
With respect to this establishment or constitution--in comparison with
which the republic of Plato is merely a ridiculous reverie, and which
might be thought to have been invented by Locke, or Newton, or Halley,
or Archimedes--it sprang, in fact, out of abuses, of a most dreadful
description, and such as are calculated to make human nature shudder.
The inevitable friction of this vast machine nearly proved its
destruction in the days of Fairfax and Cromwell. Senseless fanaticism
broke into this noble edifice, like a devouring fire that consumes a
beautiful building formed only of wood.
In the time of William the Third it was rebuilt of stone. Philosophy
destroyed fanaticism, which convulses to their centres states even the
most firm and powerful. We cannot easily help believing that a
constitution which has regulated the rights of king, lords, and people,
and in which every individual finds security, will endure as long as
human institutions and concerns shall have a being.
We cannot but believe, also, that all states not established upon
similar principles, will experience revolutions.
The English constitution has, in fact, arrived at that point of
excellence, in consequence of which all men are restored to those
natural rights, which, in nearly all monarchies, they are deprived of.
These rights are, entire liberty of person and property; freedom of the
press; the right of being tried in all criminal cases by a jury of
independent men--the right of being tried only according to the strict
letter of the law; and the right of every man to profess, unmolested,
what religion he chooses, while he renounces offices, which the members
of the Anglican or established church alone can hold. These are
denominated privileges. And, in truth, invaluable privileges they are
in comparison with the usages of most other nations of the world! To be
secure on lying down that you shall rise in possession of the same
property with which you retired to rest; that you shall not be torn from
the arms of your wife, and from your children, in the dead of night, to
be thrown into a dungeon, or buried in exile in a desert; that, when
rising from the bed of sleep, you will have the power of publishing all
your thoughts; and that, if you are accused of having either acted,
spoken, or written wrongly, you can be tried only according to law.
These privileges attach to every one who sets his foot on English
ground. A foreigner enjoys perfect liberty to dispose of his property
and person; and, if accused of any offence, he can demand that half the
jury shall be composed of foreigners.
I will venture to assert, that, were the human race solemnly assembled
for the purpose of making laws, such are the laws they would make for
their security. Why then are they not adopted in other countries? But
would it not be equally judicious to ask, why cocoanuts, which are
brought to maturity in India, do not ripen at Rome? You answer, these
cocoanuts did not always, or for some time, come to maturity in England;
that the trees have not been long cultivated; that Sweden, following her
example, planted and nursed some of them for several years, but that
they did not thrive; and that it is possible to produce such fruit in
other provinces, even in Bosnia and Servia. Try and plant the tree then.
And you who bear authority over these benighted people, whether under
the name of pasha, effendi, or mollah, let me advise you, although an
unpromising subject for advice, not to act the stupid as well as
barbarous part of riveting your nations in chains. Reflect, that the
heavier you make the people's yoke, the more completely your own
children, who cannot all of them be pashas, will be slaves. Surely you
would not be so contemptible a wretch as to expose your whole posterity
to groan in chains, for the sake of enjoying a subaltern tyranny for a
few days! Oh, how great at present is the distance between an Englishman
and a Bosnian!