Chapter XI: Part 11

In many governments the inferior magistrates have no rewards but what arise from their ambition, vanity, or public spirit. The salaries of the French judges amount not to the interest of the sums they pay for their offices. The Dutch burgomasters have little more immediate profit than the English justices of peace, or the members of the House of Commons formerly. But lest any should suspect that this would beget negligence in the administration (which is little to be feared, considering the natural ambition of mankind), let the magistrates have competent salaries. The senators have access to so many honourable and lucrative offices that their attendance needs not be bought. There is little attendance required of the representatives.

That the foregoing plan of government is practicable no one can doubt, who considers the resemblance it bears to the commonwealth of the United Provinces, formerly one of the wisest and most renowned governments in the world. The alterations in the present scheme are all evidently to the better. 1. The representation is more equal. 2. The unlimited power of the burgomasters in the towns, which forms a perfect aristocracy in the Dutch commonwealth, is corrected by a well-tempered democracy, in giving to the people the annual election of the county representatives. 3. The negative, which every province and town has upon the whole body of the Dutch republic, with regard to alliances, peace and war, and the imposition of taxes, is here removed. 4. The counties, in the present plan, are not so independent of each other, nor do they form separate bodies so much as the seven provinces; where the jealousy and envy of the smaller provinces and towns against the greater, particularly Holland and Amsterdam, have frequently disturbed the government. 5. Larger powers, though of the safest kind, are entrusted to the senate than the States-General possess; by which means the former may become more expeditious and secret in their resolutions than it is possible for the latter.

The chief alterations that could be made on the British Government, in order to bring it to the most perfect model of living monarchy, seem to be the following:—First, The plan of the Republican Parliament ought to be restored, by making the representation equal, and by allowing none to vote in the county elections who possess not a property of 200 pounds value. Secondly, As such a House of Commons would be too weighty for a frail House of Lords like the present, the bishops and Scots peers ought to be removed, whose behaviour, in former Parliaments, destroyed entirely the authority of that House. The number of the Upper House ought to be raised to three or four hundred; their seats not hereditary, but during life. They ought to have the election of their own members; and no commoner should be allowed to refuse a seat that was offered him. By this means the House of Lords would consist entirely of the men of chief credit, ability, and interest of the nation; and every turbulent leader in the House of Commons might be taken off and connected in interest with the House of Peers. Such an aristocracy would be a splendid barrier both to the monarchy and against it. At present the balance of our Government depends in some measure on the ability and behaviour of the sovereign, which are variable and uncertain circumstances.

I allow that this plan of limited monarchy, however corrected, is still liable to three great inconveniences. First, it removes not entirely, though it may soften, the parties of court and country; secondly, the king’s personal character must still have a great influence on the Government; thirdly, the sword is in the hands of a single person, who will always neglect to discipline the militia, in order to have a pretence for keeping up a standing army. It is evident that this is a mortal distemper in British Government, of which it must at last inevitably perish. I must, however, confess that Sweden seems in some measure to have remedied this inconvenience, and to have a militia, with its limited monarchy, as well as a standing army, which is less dangerous than the British.

We shall conclude this subject with observing the falsehood of the common opinion that no large state, such as France or Britain, could ever be modelled into a commonwealth, but that such a form of government can only take place in a city or small territory. The contrary seems evident. Though it is more difficult to form a republican government in an extensive country than in a city, there is more facility, when once it is formed, of preserving it steady and uniform, without tumult and faction. It is not easy for the distant parts of a large state to combine in any plan of free government; but they easily conspire in the esteem and reverence of a single person, who, by means of this popular favour, may seize the power, and forcing the more obstinate to submit, may establish a monarchical government. On the other hand, a city readily concurs in the same notions of government, the natural equality of property favours liberty, and the nearness of habitation enables the citizens mutually to assist each other. Even under absolute princes the subordinate government of cities is commonly republican; while that of counties and provinces is monarchical. But these same circumstances, which facilitate the erection of commonwealths in cities, render their constitution more frail and uncertain. Democracies are turbulent. For however the people may be separated or divided into small parties, either in their votes or elections, their near habitation in a city will always make the force of popular tides and currents very sensible. Aristocracies are better adapted for peace and order, and accordingly were most admired by ancient writers; but they are jealous and oppressive. In a large government, which is modelled with masterly skill, there is compass and room enough to refine the democracy from the lower people, who may be admitted into the first elections or first concoction of the commonwealth to the higher magistrates who direct all the movements. At the same time, the parts are so distant and remote that it is very difficult, either by intrigue, prejudice, or passion, to hurry them into any measures against the public interest.

It is needless to inquire whether such a government would be immortal. I allow the justness of the poet’s exclamation on the endless projects of human race, “Man and for ever!” The world itself probably is not immortal. Such consuming plagues may arise as would leave even a perfect government a weak prey to its neighbours. We know not to what lengths enthusiasm or other extraordinary motions of the human mind may transport men, to the neglect of all order and public good. Where difference of interest is removed, whimsical and unaccountable factions often arise from personal favour or enmity. Perhaps rust may grow to the springs of the most accurate political machine and disorder its motions. Lastly, extensive conquests, when pursued, must be the ruin of every free government; and of the more perfect governments sooner than of the imperfect, because of the very advantages which the former possess above the latter. And though such a state ought to establish a fundamental law against conquests, yet republics have ambition as well as individuals, and present interest makes men forgetful of their posterity. It is a sufficient incitement to human endeavours that such a government would flourish for many ages, without pretending to bestow on any work of man that immortality which the Almighty seems to have refused to his own productions.

THAT POLITICS MAY BE REDUCED TO A SCIENCE.

It is a question with many whether there be any essential difference between one form of government and another? and whether every form may not become good or bad according as it is well or ill administered?[113] Were it once admitted that all governments are alike, and that the only difference consists in the character and conduct of the governors, most political disputes would be at an end, and all zeal for one constitution above another must be esteemed mere bigotry and folly. But, though a friend to moderation, I cannot forbear condemning this sentiment, and should be sorry to think that human affairs admit of no greater stability than what they receive from the casual humours and characters of particular men.

It is true, those who maintain that the goodness of all government consists in the goodness of the administration, may cite many particular instances in history where the very same government in different hands has varied suddenly into the two opposite extremes of good and bad. Compare the French Government under Henry III. and under Henry IV. Oppression, levity, artifice on the part of the rulers; faction, sedition, treachery, rebellion, disloyalty on the part of the subjects: these compose the character of the former miserable era. But when the patriot and heroic prince who succeeded was once firmly seated on the throne, the government, the people, everything seemed to be totally changed; and all from the difference of the temper and sentiments of these two sovereigns. An equal difference of a contrary kind may be found on comparing the reigns of Elizabeth and James—at least with regard to foreign affairs; and instances of this kind may be multiplied almost without number from ancient as well as modern history.

But here I would beg leave to make a distinction. All absolute governments (and such, in a great measure, was that of England till the middle of the last century, notwithstanding the numerous panegyrics on ancient English liberty) must very much depend on the administration; and this is one of the great inconveniences of that form of government. But a republican and free government would be a most obvious absurdity if the particular checks and controls provided by the constitution had really no influence, and made it not the interest, even of bad men, to operate for the public good. Such is the intention of these forms of government, and such is their real effect where they are wisely constituted: as, on the other hand, they are the sources of all disorder and of the blackest crimes where either skill or honesty has been wanting in their original frame and institution.

So great is the force of laws and of particular forms of government, and so little dependence have they on the humours and tempers of men, that consequences almost as general and certain may be deduced from them on most occasions as any which the mathematical sciences afford us.

The Roman government gave the whole legislative power to the commons, without allowing a negative either to the nobility or consuls. This unbounded power the commons possessed in a collective, not in a representative body. The consequences were—when the people, by success and conquest, had become very numerous and had spread themselves to a great distance from the capital, the city tribes, though the most contemptible, carried almost every vote. They were, therefore, most cajoled by every one who affected popularity; they were supported in idleness by the general distribution of corn, and by particular bribes, which they received from almost every candidate. By this means they became every day more licentious, and the Campus Martius was a perpetual scene of tumult and sedition: armed slaves were introduced among these rascally citizens, so that the whole government fell into anarchy, and the greatest happiness which the Romans could look for was the despotic power of the Cæsars. Such are the effects of democracy without a representative.

A nobility may possess the whole or any part of the legislative power of a state in two different ways. Either every nobleman shares the power as part of the whole body, or the whole body enjoys the power as composed of parts which have each a distinct power and authority. The Venetian aristocracy is an instance of the first kind of government; the Polish of the second. In the Venetian government the whole body of nobility possesses the whole power, and no nobleman has any authority which he receives not from the whole. In the Polish government every nobleman, by means of his fiefs, has a peculiar hereditary authority over his vassals, and the whole body has no authority but what it receives from the concurrence of its parts. The distinct operations and tendencies of these two species of government might be made most apparent even _à priori_. A Venetian nobility is infinitely preferable to a Polish, let the humours and education of men be ever so much varied. A nobility who possess their power in common will preserve peace and order both among themselves and their subjects, and no member can have authority enough to control the laws for a moment. The nobles will preserve their authority over the people, but without any grievous tyranny or any breach of private property, because such a tyrannical government promotes not the interest of the whole body, however it may that of some individuals. There will be a distinction of rank between the nobility and people, but this will be the only distinction in the state. The whole nobility will form one body, and the whole people another, without any of those private feuds and animosities which spread ruin and desolation everywhere. It is easy to see the disadvantages of a Polish nobility in every one of these particulars.

It is possible so to constitute a free government as that a single person—call him doge, prince, or king—shall possess a very large share of power, and shall form a proper balance or counterpoise to the other parts of the legislature. This chief magistrate may be either elective or hereditary, and though the former institution may, to a superficial view, appear the most advantageous, yet a more accurate inspection will discover in it greater inconveniences than in the latter, and such as are founded on causes and principles eternal and immutable. The filling of the throne in such a government is a point of too great and too general interest not to divide the whole people into factions, from whence a civil war, the greatest of ills, may be apprehended almost with certainty upon every vacancy. The prince elected must be either a foreigner or a native; the former will be ignorant of the people whom he is to govern, suspicious of his new subjects and suspected by them, giving his confidence entirely to strangers, who will have no other care but of enriching themselves in the quickest manner, while their master’s favour and authority are able to support them. A native will carry into the throne all his private animosities and friendships, and will never be regarded, in his elevation, without exciting the sentiments of envy in those who formerly considered him as their equal. Not to mention that a crown is too high a reward ever to be given to merit alone, and will always induce the candidates to employ force, or money, or intrigue to procure the votes of the electors; so that such an election will give no better chance for superior merit in the prince than if the state had trusted to birth alone for determining their sovereign.

It may therefore be pronounced as a universal axiom in politics that a hereditary prince, a nobility without vassals, and a people voting by their representatives form the best monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy. But in order to prove more fully that politics admit of general truths which are invariable by the humour or education either of subject or sovereign, it may not be amiss to observe some other principles of this science which may seem to deserve that character.

It may easily be observed that though free governments have been commonly the most happy for those who partake of their freedom, yet are they the most ruinous and oppressive to their provinces; and this observation may, I believe, be fixed as a maxim of the kind we are here speaking of. When a monarch extends his dominions by conquest he soon learns to consider his old and his new subjects as on the same footing, because, in reality, all his subjects are to him the same, except the few friends and favourites with whom he is personally acquainted. He does not, therefore, make any distinction between them in his general laws, and at the same time is no less careful to prevent all particular acts of oppression on the one as on the other. But a free state necessarily makes a great distinction, and must always do so, till men learn to love their neighbours as well as themselves. The conquerors, in such a government, are all legislators, and will be sure so to contrive matters, by restrictions of trade and by taxes, as to draw some private, as well as public advantage from their conquests. Provincial governors have also a better chance in a republic to escape with their plunder by means of bribery and interest; and their fellow-citizens, who find their own state to be enriched by the spoils of the subject-provinces, will be the more inclined to tolerate such abuses. Not to mention that it is a necessary precaution in a free state to change the governors frequently, which obliges these temporary tyrants to be more expeditious and rapacious, that they may accumulate sufficient wealth before they give place to their successors. What cruel tyrants were the Romans over the world during the time of their commonwealth! It is true they had laws to prevent oppression in their provincial magistrates, but Cicero informs us that the Romans could not better consult the interest of the provinces than by repealing these very laws. “For in that case,” says he, “our magistrates, having entire impunity, would plunder no more than would satisfy their own rapaciousness; whereas at present they must also satisfy that of their judges, and of all the great men of Rome whose protection they stand in need of.” Who can read of the cruelties and oppressions of Verres without horror and astonishment? And who is not touched with indignation to hear that after Cicero had exhausted on that abandoned criminal all the thunders of his eloquence, and had prevailed so far as to get him condemned to the utmost extent of the laws, yet that cruel tyrant lived peaceably to old age in opulence and ease, and thirty years afterwards was put into the proscription by Mark Anthony on account of his exorbitant wealth, where he fell, with Cicero himself, and all the most virtuous men of Rome? After the dissolution of the commonwealth the Roman yoke became easier upon the provinces, as Tacitus informs us; and it may be observed that many of the worst emperors—Domitian, for instance—were very careful to prevent all oppression of the provinces. In Tiberius’s time Gaul was esteemed richer than Italy itself; nor do I find during the whole time of the Roman monarchy that the empire became less rich or populous in any of its provinces, though indeed its valour and military discipline were always upon the decline. The oppression and tyranny of the Carthaginians over their subject-states in Africa went so far, as we learn from Polybius, that, not content with exacting the half of all the produce of the ground, which of itself was a very high rent, they also loaded them with many other taxes. If we pass from ancient to modern times, we shall always find the observation to hold. The provinces of absolute monarchies are always better treated than those of free states. Compare the _Païs conquis_ of France with Ireland, and you will be convinced of this truth; though this latter kingdom, being in a good measure peopled from England, possesses so many rights and privileges as should naturally make it challenge better treatment than that of a conquered province. Corsica is also an obvious instance to the same purpose.

There is an observation of Machiavel, with regard to the conquests of Alexander the Great, which I think may be regarded as one of those eternal political truths which no time nor accidents can vary. It may seem strange, says that politician, that such sudden conquests as those of Alexander should be settled so peaceably by his successors, and that the Persians, during all the confusions and civil wars of the Greeks, never made the smallest effort towards the recovery of their former independent government. To satisfy us concerning the cause of this remarkable event, we may consider that a monarch may govern his subjects in two different ways. He may either follow the maxims of the eastern princes, and stretch his power so far as to leave no distinction of ranks among his subjects, but what proceeds immediately from himself—no advantages of birth; no hereditary honours and possessions; and, in a word, no credit among the people except from his commission alone. Or a monarch may exert his power after a milder manner, like our European princes, and leave other sources of honour, beside his smile and favour: birth, titles, possessions, valour, integrity, knowledge, or great and fortunate achievements. In the former species of government, after a conquest, it is impossible ever to shake off the yoke, since no one possesses among the people so much personal credit and authority as to begin such an enterprise; whereas, in the latter, the least misfortune or discord of the victors will encourage the vanquished to take arms, who have leaders ready to prompt and conduct them in every undertaking.[114]

Such is the reasoning of Machiavel, which seems to me very solid and conclusive, though I wish he had not mixed falsehood with truth in asserting that monarchies governed according to the Eastern policy, though more easily kept when once subdued, yet are the most difficult to subdue, since they cannot contain any powerful subject whose discontent and faction may facilitate the enterprises of an enemy. For besides that such a tyrannical government enervates the courage of men and renders them indifferent towards the fortunes of their sovereign; besides this, I say, we find by experience that even the temporary and delegated authority of the generals and magistrates being always, in such governments, as absolute within its sphere as that of the prince himself, is able, with barbarians accustomed to a blind submission, to produce the most dangerous and fatal revolutions. So that, in every respect, a gentle government is preferable, and gives the greatest security to the sovereign as well as to the subject.

Legislators, therefore, ought not to trust the future government of a state entirely to chance, but ought to provide a system of laws to regulate the administration of public affairs to the latest posterity. Effects will always correspond to causes, and wise regulations in any commonwealth are the most valuable legacy which can be left to future ages. In the smallest court or office the stated forms and methods by which business must be conducted are found to be a considerable check on the natural depravity of mankind. Why should not the case be the same in public affairs? Can we ascribe the stability and wisdom of the Venetian Government through so many ages to anything but the form of government? And is it not easy to point out those defects in the original constitution which produced the tumultuous governments of Athens and Rome, and ended at last in the ruin of these two famous republics? And so little dependence has this affair on the humours and education of particular men that one part of the same republic may be wisely conducted and another weakly, by the very same men, merely on account of the difference of the forms and institutions by which these parts are regulated. Historians inform us that this was actually the case with Genoa; for while the state was always full of sedition, and tumult, and disorder, the bank of St. George, which had become a considerable part of the people, was conducted for several ages with the utmost integrity and wisdom.

The ages of greatest public spirit are not always most eminent for private virtue. Good laws may beget order and moderation in the government where the manners and customs have instilled little humanity or justice into the tempers of men. The most illustrious period of the Roman history, considered in a political view, is that between the beginning of the first and the end of the last Punic War; the due balance between the nobility and people being then fixed by the contests of the tribunes, and not being yet lost by the extent of conquests. Yet at this very time the horrid practice of poisoning was so common that, during part of the season, a prætor punished capitally for this crime above three thousand persons in a part of Italy, and found informations of this nature still multiplying upon him. There is a similar, or rather a worse instance in the more early times of the commonwealth; so depraved in private life were that people, whom in their histories we so much admire. I doubt not but they were really more virtuous during the time of the two Triumvirates, when they were tearing their common country to pieces, and spreading slaughter and desolation over the face of the earth merely for the choice of tyrants.

Here, then, is a sufficient inducement to maintain, with the utmost zeal, in every free state, those forms and institutions by which liberty is secured, the public good consulted, and the avarice or ambition of particular men restrained and punished. Nothing does more honour to human nature than to see it susceptible of so noble a passion, as nothing can be a greater indication of meanness of heart in any man than to see him devoid of it. A man who loves only himself, without regard to friendship and merit, is a detestable monster; and a man who is only susceptible of friendship, without public spirit or a regard to the community, is deficient in the most material part of virtue.

But this is a subject which needs not be longer insisted on at present. There are enough of zealots on both sides who kindle up the passions of their partisans, and under the pretence of public good pursue the interests and ends of their particular faction. For my part I shall always be more fond of promoting moderation than zeal, though perhaps the surest way of producing moderation in every party is to increase our zeal for the public. Let us therefore try, if it be possible, from the foregoing doctrine to draw a lesson of moderation with regard to the parties into which our country is at present divided; at the same time, that we allow not this moderation to abate the industry and passion with which every individual is bound to pursue the good of his country.

Those who either attack or defend a minister in such a government as ours, where the utmost liberty is allowed, always carry matters to an extreme, and exaggerate his merit or demerit with regard to the public. His enemies are sure to charge him with the greatest enormities, both in domestic and foreign management, and there is no meanness or crime of which, in their account, he is not capable. Unnecessary wars, scandalous treaties, profusion of public treasure, oppressive taxes, every kind of mal-administration is ascribed to him. To aggravate the charge, his pernicious conduct, it is said, will extend its baleful influence even to posterity, by undermining the best constitution in the world, and disordering that wise system of laws, institutions, and customs by which our ancestors for so many centuries have been so happily governed. He is not only a wicked minister in himself, but has removed every security provided against wicked ministers for the future.

On the other hand, the partisans of the minister make his panegyric run as high as the accusation against him, and celebrate his wise, steady, and moderate conduct in every part of his administration. The honour and interest of the nation supported abroad, public credit maintained at home, persecution restrained, faction subdued: the merit of all these blessings is ascribed solely to the minister. At the same time he crowns all his other merits by a religious care of the best constitution in the world, which he has preserved in all its parts, and has transmitted entire to be the happiness and security of the latest posterity.

When this accusation and panegyric are received by the partisans of each party, no wonder they beget a most extraordinary ferment on both sides, and fill the nation with the most violent animosities. But I would fain persuade these party-zealots that there is a flat contradiction both in the accusation and panegyric, and that it were impossible for either of them to run so high were it not for this contradiction. If our constitution be really that noble fabric, the pride of Britain, the envy of our neighbours, raised by the labour of so many centuries, repaired at the expense of so many millions, and cemented by such a profusion of blood—I say, if our constitution does in any degree deserve these eulogies, it would never have suffered a wicked and weak minister to govern triumphantly for a course of twenty years, when opposed by the greatest geniuses of the nation, who exercised the utmost liberty of tongue and pen, in Parliament and in their frequent appeals to the people. But if the minister be wicked and weak to the degree so strenuously insisted on, the constitution must be faulty in its original principles, and he cannot consistently be charged with undermining the best constitution in the world. A constitution is only so far good as it provides a remedy against mal-administration, and if the British constitution, when in its greatest vigour, and repaired by two such remarkable events as the Revolution and Accession, by which our ancient royal family was sacrificed to it—if our constitution, I say, with so great advantages does not, in fact, provide any such remedy, we are rather beholden to any minister who undermines it and affords us an opportunity of erecting in its place a better constitution.

I would make use of the same topics to moderate the zeal of those who defend the minister. Is our constitution so excellent? Then a change of ministry can be no such dreadful event, since it is essential to such a constitution, in every ministry, both to preserve itself from violation and to prevent all enormities in the administration. Is our constitution very bad? Then so extraordinary a jealousy and apprehension on account of changes is ill-placed, and a man should no more be anxious in this case than a husband, who had married a wife from the stews, should be watchful to prevent her infidelity. Public affairs in such a constitution must necessarily go to confusion, by whatever hands they are conducted, and the zeal of patriots is much less requisite in that case than the patience and submission of philosophers. The virtue and good intentions of Cato and Brutus are highly laudable, but to what purpose did their zeal serve? To nothing but to hasten the fatal period of the Roman government, and render its convulsions and dying agonies more violent and painful.

I would not be understood to mean that public affairs deserve no care and attention at all. Would men be moderate and consistent, their claims might be admitted—at least might be examined. The country-party might still assert that our constitution, though excellent, will admit of mal-administration to a certain degree, and therefore, if the minister be bad, it is proper to oppose him with a suitable degree of zeal. And, on the other hand, the court-party may be allowed, upon the supposition that the minister were good, to defend, and with some zeal too, his administration. I would only persuade men not to contend, as if they were fighting _pro aris et focis_, and change a good constitution into a bad one by the violence of their factions.[115]

I have not here considered anything that is personal in the present controversy. In the best civil constitution, where every man is restrained by the most rigid laws, it is easy to discover either the good or bad intentions of a minister, and to judge whether his personal character deserves love or hatred. But such questions are of little importance to the public, and lay those who employ their pens upon them under a just suspicion either of malevolence or flattery.

NOTES, POLITICS REDUCED TO A SCIENCE.

[113]

“For forms of government let fools contest;
Whate’er is best administer’d is best.”

_Essay on Man_, Book iii.

[114] I have taken it for granted, according to the supposition of Machiavel, that the ancient Persians had no nobility, though there is reason to suspect that the Florentine secretary, who seems to have been better acquainted with the Roman than the Greek authors, was mistaken in this particular. The more ancient Persians, whose manners are described by Xenophon, were a free people, and had nobility. Their ὁμοτιμοι were preserved even after the extending of their conquests and the consequent change of their government. Arrian mentions them in Darius’s time (_De exped. Alex._, lib. 2). Historians also speak often of the persons in command as men of family. Tygranes, who was general of the Medes under Xerxes, was of the race of Achmænes (Herod., lib. 7, cap. 62). Artachæas, who directed the cutting of the canal about Mount Athos, was of the same family (_id._, cap. 117). Megabyzus was one of the seven eminent Persians who conspired against the Magi. His son Zopyrus was in the highest command under Darius, and delivered Babylon to him. His grandson Megabyzus commanded the army defeated at Marathon. His great grandson Zopyrus was also eminent, and was banished Persia (Herod., lib. 3; Thuc., lib. 1). Rosaces, who commanded an army in Egypt under Artaxerxes, was also descended from one of the seven conspirators (Diod. Sic., lib. 16). Agesilaus (in Xenophon, _Hist. Græc._ lib. 4), being desirous of making a marriage betwixt King Cotys, his ally, and the daughter of Spithridates, a Persian of rank who had deserted to him, first asks Cotys what rank Spithridates is of. One of the most considerable in Persia, says Cotys. Ariæus, when offered the sovereignty by Clearchus and the ten thousand Greeks, refused it as of too low a rank, and said that so many eminent Persians would never endure his rule (_id._, _De exped._ lib. 2). Some of the families, descended from the seven Persians above mentioned, remained during all Alexander’s successors; and Mithridates, in Antiochus’s time, is said by Polybius to be descended from one of them (lib. 5, cap. 43). Artabazus was esteemed, as Arrian says, εν τοις πρωτοις Περσων (lib. 3). And when Alexander married in one day eighty of his captains to Persian women, his intention plainly was to ally the Macedonians with the most eminent Persian families (_id._, lib. 7). Diodorus Siculus says they were of the most noble birth in Persia (lib. 17). The government of Persia was despotic, and conducted in many respects after the Eastern manner, but was not carried so far as to extirpate all nobility, and confound all ranks and orders. It left men who were still great, by themselves and their family, independent of their office and commission. And the reason why the Macedonians kept so easily dominion over them was owing to other causes easy to be found in the historians, though it must be owned that Machiavel’s reasoning was in itself just, however doubtful its application to the present case.

[115] What our author’s opinion was of the famous minister here pointed at may be learned from that essay, printed in the former editions, under the title of “A Character of Sir Robert Walpole.” It was as follows:—“There never was a man whose actions and character have been more earnestly and openly canvassed than those of the present minister, who, having governed a learned and free nation for so long a time, amidst such mighty opposition, may make a large library of what has been written for and against him, and is the subject of above half the paper that has been blotted in the nation within these twenty years. I wish, for the honour of our country, that any one character of him had been drawn with such judgment and impartiality as to have credit with posterity, and to show that our liberty has, once at least, been employed to good purpose. I am only afraid of failing in the former quality of judgment; but if it should be so, it is but one page more thrown away, after a hundred thousand, upon the same subject, that have perished and become useless. In the meantime, I shall flatter myself with the pleasing imagination that the following character will be adopted by future historians:—

“Sir Robert Walpole, Prime Minister of Great Britain, is a man of ability, not a genius; good-natured, not virtuous; constant, not magnanimous; moderate, not equitable.[116] His virtues, in some instances, are free from the alloy of those vices which usually accompany such virtues. He is a generous friend, without being a bitter enemy. His vices, in other instances, are not compensated by those virtues which are nearly allied to them: his want of enterprise is not attended with frugality. The private character of the man is better than the public, his virtues more than his vices, his fortune greater than his fame. With many good qualities he has incurred the public hatred; with good capacity he has not escaped ridicule. He would have been esteemed more worthy of his high station had he never possessed it; and is better qualified for the second than for the first place in any Government. His ministry has been more advantageous to his family than to the public, better for this age than for posterity, and more pernicious by bad precedents than by real grievances. During his time trade has flourished, liberty declined, and learning gone to ruin. As I am a man, I love him; as I am a scholar, I hate him; as I am a Briton, I calmly wish his fall. And were I a member of either House I would give my vote for removing him from St. James’s, but should be glad to see him retire to Houghton Hall, to pass the remainder of his days in ease and pleasure.”

The author is pleased to find that after animosities are laid, and calumny has ceased, the whole nation almost have returned to the same moderate sentiments with regard to this great man, if they are not rather become more favourable to him, by a very natural transition from one extreme to another. The author would not oppose those humane sentiments towards the dead, though he cannot forbear observing that the not paying more of our public debts was, as hinted in this character, a great, and the only great error in that long administration.

[116] Moderate in the exercise of power, not equitable in engrossing it.

OF THE FIRST PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT.

Nothing is more surprising to those who consider human affairs with a philosophical eye, than to see the easiness with which the many are governed by the few; and to observe the implicit submission with which men resign their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers. When we inquire by what means this wonder is brought about, we shall find that, as force is always on the side of the governed, the governors have nothing to support them but opinion. It is therefore on opinion only that government is founded, and this maxim extends to the most despotic and most military governments, as well as to the most free and most popular. The Soldan of Egypt, or the Emperor of Rome, might drive his harmless subjects like brute beasts against their sentiments and inclination; but he must, at least, have led his mamalukes, or prætorian bands, like men, by their opinion.

Opinion is of two kinds—viz., opinion of interest and opinion of right. By opinion of interest, I chiefly understand the sense of the public advantage which is reaped from government, together with the persuasion that the particular government which is established is equally advantageous with any other that could easily be settled. When this opinion prevails among the generality of a state, or among those who have the force in their hands, it gives great security to any government.

Right is of two kinds—right to power and right to property. What prevalence opinion of the first kind has over mankind may easily be understood by observing the attachment which all nations have to their ancient government, and even to those names which have had the sanction of antiquity. Antiquity always begets the opinion of right, and whatever disadvantageous sentiments we may entertain of mankind, they are always found to be prodigal both of blood and treasure in the maintenance of public justice. This passion we may denominate enthusiasm, or we may give it what appellation we please; but a politician who should overlook its influence on human affairs would prove himself but of a very limited understanding. There is, indeed, no particular in which at first sight there may appear a greater contradiction in the frame of the human mind than the present. When men act in a faction they are apt, without any shame or remorse, to neglect all the ties of honour and morality in order to serve their party; and yet when a faction is formed upon a point of right or principle, there is no occasion where men discover a greater obstinacy and a more determined sense of justice and equity. The same social disposition of mankind is the cause of both these contradictory appearances.

It is sufficiently understood that the opinion of right to property is of the greatest moment in all matters of government. A noted author has made property the foundation of all government; and most of our political writers seem inclined to follow him in that particular. This is carrying the matter too far; but still it must be owned that the opinion of right to property has a great influence in this subject.

Upon these three opinions, therefore, of public interest, of right to power, and of right to property, are all governments founded, and all authority of the few over the many. There are indeed other principles which add force to these, and determine, limit, or alter their operation; such as self-interest, fear, and affection. But still we may assert that these other principles can have no influence alone, but suppose the antecedent influence of those opinions above mentioned. They are therefore to be esteemed the secondary, not the original principles of government.

For, first, as to self-interest, by which I mean the expectation of particular rewards, distinct from the general protection which we receive from government, it is evident that the magistrate’s authority must be antecedently established, or at least be hoped for, in order to produce this expectation. The prospect of reward may augment the authority with regard to some particular persons, but can never give birth to it with regard to the public. Men naturally look for the greatest favours from their friends and acquaintance, and therefore the hopes of any considerable number of the state would never centre in any particular set of men if these men had no other title to magistracy, and had no separate influence over the opinions of mankind. The same observation may be extended to the other two principles of fear and affection. No man would have any reason to fear the fury of a tyrant if he had no authority over any but from fear; since as a single man his bodily force can reach but a small way, and all further power he possesses must be founded either on our opinion or on the presumed opinion of others. And though affection to wisdom and virtue in a sovereign extends very far and has great influence, yet he must be antecedently supposed invested with a public character, otherwise the public esteem will serve him in no stead, nor will his virtue have any influence beyond a narrow sphere.

A government may endure for several ages, though the balance of power and the balance of property do not agree. This chiefly happens where any rank or order of the state has acquired a large share of the property, but from the original constitution of the government has no share of the power. Under what pretext would any individual of that order assume authority in public affairs? As men are commonly much attached to their ancient government, it is not to be expected that the public would ever favour such usurpations. But where the original constitution allows any share of power, though small, to an order of men who possess a large share of the property, it is easy for them gradually to stretch their authority and bring the balance of power to coincide with that of property. This has been the case with the House of Commons in England.

Most writers who have treated of the British Government have supposed that as the House of Commons represents all the commons of Great Britain, so its weight in the scale is proportioned to the property and power of all whom it represents. But this principle must not be received as absolutely true. For though the people are apt to attach themselves more to the House of Commons than to any other member of the constitution—that House being chosen by them as their representatives and as the public guardians of their liberty—yet are there instances where the House, even when in opposition to the Crown, has not been followed by the people; as we may particularly observe of the Tory House of Commons in the reign of King William. Were the members of the House obliged to receive instructions from their constituents, like the Dutch deputies, this would entirely alter the case; and if such immense power and riches as those of the whole commons of Britain were brought into the scale, it is not easy to conceive that the Crown could either influence the multitude of people or withstand that overbalance of property. It is true the Crown has great influence over the collective body of Britain in the elections of members; but were this influence, which at present is only exerted once in seven years, to be employed in bringing over the people to every vote, it would soon be wasted, and no skill, popularity or revenue, could support it. I must, therefore, be of opinion that an alteration in this particular would introduce a total alteration in our government, and would soon reduce it to a pure republic; and perhaps to a republic of no inconvenient form. For though the people collected in a body like the Roman tribes be quite unfit for government, yet when dispersed in small bodies they are more susceptible both of reason and order; the force of popular currents and tides is in a great measure broken; and the public interest may be pursued with some method and constancy. But it is needless to reason any further concerning a form of government which is never likely to have place in Britain, and which seems not to be the aim of any party amongst us. Let us cherish and improve our ancient government as much as possible, without encouraging a passion for such dangerous novelties.

OF POLITICAL SOCIETY.

Had every man sufficient sagacity to perceive at all times the strong interest which binds him to the observance of justice and equity, and strength of mind sufficient to persevere in a steady adherence to a general and a distant interest, in opposition to the allurements of present pleasure and advantage—there had never, in that case, been any such thing as government or political society, but each man following his natural liberty had lived in entire peace and harmony with all others. What need of positive laws where natural justice is, of itself, a sufficient restraint? Why create magistrates where there never arises any disorder or iniquity? Why abridge our native freedom when, in every instance, the utmost exertion of it is found innocent and beneficial? It is evident that if government were totally useless it never could have place, and that the sole foundation of the duty of allegiance is the advantage which it procures to society by preserving peace and order among mankind.

When a number of political societies are erected, and maintain a great intercourse together, a new set of rules are immediately discovered to be useful in that particular situation, and accordingly take place under the title of “Laws of Nations.” Of this kind are the sacredness of the persons of ambassadors, abstaining from poisoned arms, quarter in war, with others of that kind, which are plainly calculated for the advantage of states and kingdoms in their intercourse with each other.

The rules of justice, such as prevail among individuals, are not entirely suspended among political societies. All princes pretend a regard to the rights of others; and some, no doubt, without hypocrisy. Alliances and treaties are every day made between independent states, which would only be so much waste of parchment if they were not found, by experience, to have some influence and authority. But here is the difference between kingdoms and individuals. Human nature cannot by any means subsist without the association of individuals; and that association never could have place were no regard paid to the laws of equity and justice. Disorder, confusion, the war of all against all, are the necessary consequences of such a licentious conduct. But nations can subsist without intercourse. They may even subsist, in some degree, under a general war. The observance of justice, though useful among them, is not guarded by so strong a necessity as among individuals; and the moral obligation holds proportion with the usefulness. All politicians will allow, and most philosophers, that reasons of state may, in particular emergencies, dispense with the rules of justice, and invalidate any treaty or alliance where the strict observance of it would be prejudicial in a considerable degree to either of the contracting parties. But nothing less than the extremest necessity, it is confessed, can justify individuals in a breach of promise, Or an invasion of the properties of others.

In a confederated commonwealth, such as the Achæan Republic of old, or the Swiss Cantons and United Provinces in modern times; as the league has here a peculiar utility, the conditions of union have a peculiar sacredness and authority, and a violation of them would be equally criminal, Or even more criminal than any private injury or injustice.

The long and helpless infancy of man requires the combination of parents for the subsistence of their young, and that combination requires the virtue of chastity or fidelity to the marriage-bed. Without such a utility, it will readily be owned that such a virtue would never have been thought of.

An infidelity of this nature is much more pernicious in women than in men; hence the laws of chastity are much stricter over the one sex than over the other.

These rules have all a reference to generation, and yet women past child-bearing are no more supposed to be exempted from them than those in the flower of their youth and beauty. General rules are often extended beyond the principle whence they first arise, and this holds in all matters of taste and sentiment. It is a vulgar story at Paris that during the rage of the Mississippi a hump-backed fellow went every day into the Rue de Quincempoix, where the stock-jobbers met in great crowds, and was well paid for allowing them to make use of his hump as a desk in order to sign their contracts upon it. Would the fortune which he raised by this invention make him a handsome fellow, though it be confessed that personal beauty arises very much from ideas of utility? The imagination is influenced by association of ideas, which, though they arise at first from the judgment, are not easily altered by every particular exception that occurs to us. To which we may add, in the present case of chastity, that the example of the old would be pernicious to the young, and that women, continually thinking that a certain time would bring them the liberty of indulgence, would naturally advance that period and think more lightly of this whole duty so requisite to society.

Those who live in the same family have such frequent opportunities of licence of this kind that nothing could preserve purity of manners were marriage allowed among the nearest relations, or were any intercourse of love between them ratified by law and custom. Incest, therefore, being pernicious in a superior degree, has also a superior turpitude and moral deformity annexed to it.