Paine's Rights of Man
Paine's Rights of Man
Paine's Rights of Man
com
by Thomas Paine
George Washington
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
SIR,
I present you a small treatise in defence of those principles of
freedom which your exemplary virtue hath so eminently contributed to
establish. That the Rights of Man may become as universal as your
benevolence can wish, and that you may enjoy the happiness of seeing
the New World regenerate the Old, is the prayer of
SIR,
Your much obliged, and
Obedient humble Servant,
THOMAS PAINE
unpardonable.
With respect to a paragraph in this work alluding to Mr. Burke's
having a pension, the report has been some time in circulation, at
least two months; and as a person is often the last to hear what
concerns him the most to know, I have mentioned it, that Mr. Burke may
have an opportunity of contradicting the rumour, if he thinks proper.
THOMAS PAINE
FRENCH EDITION
The Author's Preface to the French Edition
The astonishment which the French Revolution has caused throughout
Europe should be considered from two different points of view: first
as it affects foreign peoples, secondly as it affects their
governments.
The cause of the French people is that of all Europe, or rather of
the whole world; but the governments of all those countries are by
no means favorable to it. It is important that we should never lose
sight of this distinction. We must not confuse the peoples with
their governments; especially not the English people with its
government.
The government of England is no friend of the revolution of
France. Of this we have sufficient proofs in the thanks given by
that weak and witless person, the Elector of Hanover, sometimes called
the King of England, to Mr. Burke for the insults heaped on it in
his book, and in the malevolent comments of the English Minister,
Pitt, in his speeches in Parliament.
In spite of the professions of sincerest friendship found in the
official correspondence of the English government with that of France,
its conduct gives the lie to all its declarations, and shows us
clearly that it is not a court to be trusted, but an insane court,
plunging in all the quarrels and intrigues of Europe, in quest of a
war to satisfy its folly and countenance its extravagance.
The English nation, on the contrary, is very favorably disposed
towards the French Revolution, and to the progress of liberty in the
whole world; and this feeling will become more general in England as
the intrigues and artifices of its government are better known, and
the principles of the revolution better understood. The French
should know that most English newspapers are directly in the pay of
government, or, if indirectly connected with it, always under its
orders; and that those papers constantly distort and attack the
revolution in France in order to deceive the nation. But, as it is
impossible long to prevent the prevalence of truth, the daily
falsehoods of those papers no longer have the desired effect.
To be convinced that the voice of truth has been stifled in England,
the world needs only to be told that the government regards and
prosecutes as a libel that which it should protect.*[1] This outrage
on morality is called law, and judges are found wicked enough to
inflict penalties on truth.
The English government presents, just now, a curious phenomenon.
Seeing that the French and English nations are getting rid of the
prejudices and false notions formerly entertained against each
other, and which have cost them so much money, that government seems
to be placarding its need of a foe; for unless it finds one somewhere,
no pretext exists for the enormous revenue and taxation now deemed
necessary.
Therefore it seeks in Russia the enemy it has lost in France, and
appears to say to the universe, or to say to itself. "If nobody will
be so kind as to become my foe, I shall need no more fleets nor
armies, and shall be forced to reduce my taxes. The American war
enabled me to double the taxes; the Dutch business to add more; the
Nootka humbug gave me a pretext for raising three millions sterling
more; but unless I can make an enemy of Russia the harvest from wars
will end. I was the first to incite Turk against Russian, and now I
hope to reap a fresh crop of taxes."
If the miseries of war, and the flood of evils it spreads over a
country, did not check all inclination to mirth, and turn laughter
into grief, the frantic conduct of the government of England would
only excite ridicule. But it is impossible to banish from one's mind
the images of suffering which the contemplation of such vicious policy
presents. To reason with governments, as they have existed for ages,
is to argue with brutes. It is only from the nations themselves that
reforms can be expected. There ought not now to exist any doubt that
the peoples of France, England, and America, enlightened and
enlightening each other, shall henceforth be able, not merely to
give the world an example of good government, but by their united
influence enforce its practice.
(Translated from the French)
Rights of Man
Among the incivilities by which nations or individuals provoke and
irritate each other, Mr. Burke's pamphlet on the French Revolution
is an extraordinary instance. Neither the People of France, nor the
National Assembly, were troubling themselves about the affairs of
England, or the English Parliament; and that Mr. Burke should commence
an unprovoked attack upon them, both in Parliament and in public, is a
conduct that cannot be pardoned on the score of manners, nor justified
on that of policy.
There is scarcely an epithet of abuse to be found in the English
language, with which Mr. Burke has not loaded the French Nation and
the National Assembly. Everything which rancour, prejudice,
ignorance or knowledge could suggest, is poured forth in the copious
fury of near four hundred pages. In the strain and on the plan Mr.
Burke was writing, he might have written on to as many thousands. When
the tongue or the pen is let loose in a frenzy of passion, it is the
man, and not the subject, that becomes exhausted.
Hitherto Mr. Burke has been mistaken and disappointed in the
opinions he had formed of the affairs of France; but such is the
ingenuity of his hope, or the malignancy of his despair, that it
furnishes him with new pretences to go on. There was a time when it
was impossible to make Mr. Burke believe there would be any Revolution
in France. His opinion then was, that the French had neither spirit to
undertake it nor fortitude to support it; and now that there is one,
he seeks an escape by condemning it.
Not sufficiently content with abusing the National Assembly, a great
part of his work is taken up with abusing Dr. Price (one of the
best-hearted men that lives) and the two societies in England known by
the name of the Revolution Society and the Society for
Constitutional Information.
Dr. Price had preached a sermon on the 4th of November, 1789,
being the anniversary of what is called in England the Revolution,
which took place 1688. Mr. Burke, speaking of this sermon, says:
"The political Divine proceeds dogmatically to assert, that by the
principles of the Revolution, the people of England have acquired
three fundamental rights:
1. To choose our own governors.
2. To cashier them for misconduct.
3. To frame a government for ourselves."
Dr. Price does not say that the right to do these things exists in
this or in that person, or in this or in that description of
persons, but that it exists in the whole; that it is a right
resident in the nation. Mr. Burke, on the contrary, denies that such a
right exists in the nation, either in whole or in part, or that it
exists anywhere; and, what is still more strange and marvellous, he
says: "that the people of England utterly disclaim such a right, and
that they will resist the practical assertion of it with their lives
and fortunes." That men should take up arms and spend their lives
and fortunes, not to maintain their rights, but to maintain they
have not rights, is an entirely new species of discovery, and suited
to the paradoxical genius of Mr. Burke.
The method which Mr. Burke takes to prove that the people of England
have no such rights, and that such rights do not now exist in the
nation, either in whole or in part, or anywhere at all, is of the same
marvellous and monstrous kind with what he has already said; for his
arguments are that the persons, or the generation of persons, in
whom they did exist, are dead, and with them the right is dead also.
To prove this, he quotes a declaration made by Parliament about a
hundred years ago, to William and Mary, in these words: "The Lords
Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, do, in the name of the people
aforesaid" (meaning the people of England then living) "most humbly
and faithfully submit themselves, their heirs and posterities, for
EVER." He quotes a clause of another Act of Parliament made in the
same reign, the terms of which he says, "bind us" (meaning the
people of their day), "our heirs and our posterity, to them, their
heirs and posterity, to the end of time."
Mr. Burke conceives his point sufficiently established by
producing those clauses, which he enforces by saying that they exclude
the right of the nation for ever. And not yet content with making such
Where, then, does the right exist? I am contending for the rights of
the living, and against their being willed away and controlled and
contracted for by the manuscript assumed authority of the dead, and
Mr. Burke is contending for the authority of the dead over the
rights and freedom of the living. There was a time when kings disposed
of their crowns by will upon their death-beds, and consigned the
people, like beasts of the field, to whatever successor they
appointed. This is now so exploded as scarcely to be remembered, and
so monstrous as hardly to be believed. But the Parliamentary clauses
upon which Mr. Burke builds his political church are of the same
nature.
The laws of every country must be analogous to some common
principle. In England no parent or master, nor all the authority of
Parliament, omnipotent as it has called itself, can bind or control
the personal freedom even of an individual beyond the age of
twenty-one years. On what ground of right, then, could the
Parliament of 1688, or any other Parliament, bind all posterity for
ever?
Those who have quitted the world, and those who have not yet arrived
at it, are as remote from each other as the utmost stretch of mortal
imagination can conceive. What possible obligation, then, can exist
between them- what rule or principle can be laid down that of two
nonentities, the one out of existence and the other not in, and who
never can meet in this world, the one should control the other to
the end of time?
In England it is said that money cannot be taken out of the
pockets of the people without their consent. But who authorised, or
who could authorise, the Parliament of 1688 to control and take away
the freedom of posterity (who were not in existence to give or to
withhold their consent) and limit and confine their right of acting in
certain cases for ever?
A greater absurdity cannot present itself to the understanding of
man than what Mr. Burke offers to his readers. He tells them, and he
tells the world to come, that a certain body of men who existed a
hundred years ago made a law, and that there does not exist in the
nation, nor ever will, nor ever can, a power to alter it. Under how
many subtilties or absurdities has the divine right to govern been
imposed on the credulity of mankind? Mr. Burke has discovered a new
one, and he has shortened his journey to Rome by appealing to the
power of this infallible Parliament of former days, and he produces
what it has done as of divine authority, for that power must certainly
be more than human which no human power to the end of time can alter.
But Mr. Burke has done some service- not to his cause, but to his
country- by bringing those clauses into public view. They serve to
demonstrate how necessary it is at all times to watch against the
attempted encroachment of power, and to prevent its running to excess.
It is somewhat extraordinary that the offence for which James II.
was expelled, that of setting up power by assumption, should be
re-acted, under another shape and form, by the Parliament that
expelled him. It shows that the Rights of Man were but imperfectly
understood at the Revolution, for certain it is that the right which
that Parliament set up by assumption (for by the delegation it had
not, and could not have it, because none could give it) over the
persons and freedom of posterity for ever was of the same tyrannical
unfounded kind which James attempted to set up over the Parliament and
the nation, and for which he was expelled. The only difference is (for
in principle they differ not) that the one was an usurper over living,
and the other over the unborn; and as the one has no better
authority to stand upon than the other, both of them must be equally
null and void, and of no effect.
From what, or from whence, does Mr. Burke prove the right of any
human power to bind posterity for ever? He has produced his clauses,
but he must produce also his proofs that such a right existed, and
show how it existed. If it ever existed it must now exist, for
whatever appertains to the nature of man cannot be annihilated by man.
It is the nature of man to die, and he will continue to die as long as
he continues to be born. But Mr. Burke has set up a sort of
political Adam, in whom all posterity are bound for ever. He must,
therefore, prove that his Adam possessed such a power, or such a
right.
The weaker any cord is, the less will it bear to be stretched, and
the worse is the policy to stretch it, unless it is intended to
break it. Had anyone proposed the overthrow of Mr. Burke's
positions, he would have proceeded as Mr. Burke has done. He would
have magnified the authorities, on purpose to have called the right of
them into question; and the instant the question of right was started,
the authorities must have been given up.
It requires but a very small glance of thought to perceive that
although laws made in one generation often continue in force through
succeeding generations, yet they continue to derive their force from
the consent of the living. A law not repealed continues in force,
not because it cannot be repealed, but because it is not repealed; and
the non-repealing passes for consent.
But Mr. Burke's clauses have not even this qualification in their
favour. They become null, by attempting to become immortal. The nature
of them precludes consent. They destroy the right which they might
have, by grounding it on a right which they cannot have. Immortal
power is not a human right, and therefore cannot be a right of
Parliament. The Parliament of 1688 might as well have passed an act to
have authorised themselves to live for ever, as to make their
authority live for ever. All, therefore, that can be said of those
clauses is that they are a formality of words, of as much import as if
those who used them had addressed a congratulation to themselves,
and in the oriental style of antiquity had said: O Parliament, live
for ever!
The circumstances of the world are continually changing, and the
opinions of men change also; and as government is for the living,
and not for the dead, it is the living only that has any right in
it. That which may be thought right and found convenient in one age
may be thought wrong and found inconvenient in another. In such cases,
who is to decide, the living or the dead?
As almost one hundred pages of Mr. Burke's book are employed upon
these clauses, it will consequently follow that if the clauses
themselves, so far as they set up an assumed usurped dominion over
posterity for ever, are unauthoritative, and in their nature null
and void; that all his voluminous inferences, and declamation drawn
therefrom, or founded thereon, are null and void also; and on this
ground I rest the matter.
We now come more particularly to the affairs of France. Mr.
Burke's book has the appearance of being written as instruction to the
French nation; but if I may permit myself the use of an extravagant
metaphor, suited to the extravagance of the case, it is darkness
attempting to illuminate light.
While I am writing this there are accidentally before me some
proposals for a declaration of rights by the Marquis de la Fayette
(I ask his pardon for using his former address, and do it only for
distinction's sake) to the National Assembly, on the 11th of July,
1789, three days before the taking of the Bastille, and I cannot but
remark with astonishment how opposite the sources are from which
that gentleman and Mr. Burke draw their principles. Instead of
referring to musty records and mouldy parchments to prove that the
rights of the living are lost, "renounced and abdicated for ever,"
by those who are now no more, as Mr. Burke has done, M. de la
Fayette applies to the living world, and emphatically says: "Call to
mind the sentiments which nature has engraved on the heart of every
citizen, and which take a new force when they are solemnly
recognised by all:- For a nation to love liberty, it is sufficient
that she knows it; and to be free, it is sufficient that she wills
it." How dry, barren, and obscure is the source from which Mr. Burke
labors! and how ineffectual, though gay with flowers, are all his
declamation and his arguments compared with these clear, concise,
and soul-animating sentiments! Few and short as they are, they lead on
to a vast field of generous and manly thinking, and do not finish,
like Mr. Burke's periods, with music in the ear, and nothing in the
heart.
As I have introduced M. de la Fayette, I will take the liberty of
adding an anecdote respecting his farewell address to the Congress
of America in 1783, and which occurred fresh to my mind, when I saw
Mr. Burke's thundering attack on the French Revolution. M. de la
Fayette went to America at the early period of the war, and
continued a volunteer in her service to the end. His conduct through
the whole of that enterprise is one of the most extraordinary that
is to be found in the history of a young man, scarcely twenty years of
age. Situated in a country that was like the lap of sensual
pleasure, and with the means of enjoying it, how few are there to be
found who would exchange such a scene for the woods and wildernesses
of America, and pass the flowery years of youth in unprofitable danger
and hardship! but such is the fact. When the war ended, and he was
on the point of taking his final departure, he presented himself to
Congress, and contemplating in his affectionate farewell the
Revolution he had seen, expressed himself in these words: "May this
great monument raised to liberty serve as a lesson to the oppressor,
and an example to the oppressed!" When this address came to the
hands of Dr. Franklin, who was then in France, he applied to Count
Vergennes to have it inserted in the French Gazette, but never could
obtain his consent. The fact was that Count Vergennes was an
aristocratical despot at home, and dreaded the example of the American
Revolution in France, as certain other persons now dread the example
of the French Revolution in England, and Mr. Burke's tribute of fear
(for in this light his book must be considered) runs parallel with
Count Vergennes' refusal. But to return more particularly to his work.
"We have seen," says Mr. Burke, "the French rebel against a mild and
lawful monarch, with more fury, outrage, and insult, than any people
has been known to rise against the most illegal usurper, or the most
sanguinary tyrant." This is one among a thousand other instances, in
which Mr. Burke shows that he is ignorant of the springs and
principles of the French Revolution.
It was not against Louis XVI. but against the despotic principles of
the Government, that the nation revolted. These principles had not
their origin in him, but in the original establishment, many centuries
back: and they were become too deeply rooted to be removed, and the
Augean stables of parasites and plunderers too abominably filthy to be
cleansed by anything short of a complete and universal Revolution.
When it becomes necessary to do anything, the whole heart and soul
should go into the measure, or not attempt it. That crisis was then
arrived, and there remained no choice but to act with determined
vigor, or not to act at all. The king was known to be the friend of
the nation, and this circumstance was favorable to the enterprise.
Perhaps no man bred up in the style of an absolute king, ever
possessed a heart so little disposed to the exercise of that species
of power as the present King of France. But the principles of the
Government itself still remained the same. The Monarch and the
Monarchy were distinct and separate things; and it was against the
established despotism of the latter, and not against the person or
principles of the former, that the revolt commenced, and the
Revolution has been carried.
Mr. Burke does not attend to the distinction between men and
principles, and, therefore, he does not see that a revolt may take
place against the despotism of the latter, while there lies no
charge of despotism against the former.
The natural moderation of Louis XVI. contributed nothing to alter
the hereditary despotism of the monarchy. All the tyrannies of
former reigns, acted under that hereditary despotism, were still
liable to be revived in the hands of a successor. It was not the
respite of a reign that would satisfy France, enlightened as she was
then become. A casual discontinuance of the practice of despotism,
unknown to the ministry; and what movements Broglio might make for the
support or relief of the place, were to the citizens equally as
unknown. All was mystery and hazard.
That the Bastille was attacked with an enthusiasm of heroism, such
only as the highest animation of liberty could inspire, and carried in
the space of a few hours, is an event which the world is fully
possessed of. I am not undertaking the detail of the attack, but
bringing into view the conspiracy against the nation which provoked
it, and which fell with the Bastille. The prison to which the new
ministry were dooming the National Assembly, in addition to its
being the high altar and castle of despotism, became the proper object
to begin with. This enterprise broke up the new ministry, who began
now to fly from the ruin they had prepared for others. The troops of
Broglio dispersed, and himself fled also.
Mr. Burke has spoken a great deal about plots, but he has never once
spoken of this plot against the National Assembly, and the liberties
of the nation; and that he might not, he has passed over all the
circumstances that might throw it in his way. The exiles who have fled
from France, whose case he so much interests himself in, and from whom
he has had his lesson, fled in consequence of the miscarriage of
this plot. No plot was formed against them; they were plotting against
others; and those who fell, met, not unjustly, the punishment they
were preparing to execute. But will Mr. Burke say that if this plot,
contrived with the subtilty of an ambuscade, had succeeded, the
successful party would have restrained their wrath so soon? Let the
history of all governments answer the question.
Whom has the National Assembly brought to the scaffold? None. They
were themselves the devoted victims of this plot, and they have not
retaliated; why, then, are they charged with revenge they have not
acted? In the tremendous breaking forth of a whole people, in which
all degrees, tempers and characters are confounded, delivering
themselves, by a miracle of exertion, from the destruction meditated
against them, is it to be expected that nothing will happen? When
men are sore with the sense of oppressions, and menaced with the
prospects of new ones, is the calmness of philosophy or the palsy of
insensibility to be looked for? Mr. Burke exclaims against outrage;
yet the greatest is that which himself has committed. His book is a
volume of outrage, not apologised for by the impulse of a moment,
but cherished through a space of ten months; yet Mr. Burke had no
provocation- no life, no interest, at stake.
More of the citizens fell in this struggle than of their
opponents: but four or five persons were seized by the populace, and
instantly put to death; the Governor of the Bastille, and the Mayor of
Paris, who was detected in the act of betraying them; and afterwards
Foulon, one of the new ministry, and Berthier, his son-in-law, who had
accepted the office of intendant of Paris. Their heads were stuck upon
spikes, and carried about the city; and it is upon this mode of
punishment that Mr. Burke builds a great part of his tragic scene. Let
us therefore examine how men came by the idea of punishing in this
manner.
They learn it from the governments they live under; and retaliate
the punishments they have been accustomed to behold. The heads stuck
upon spikes, which remained for years upon Temple Bar, differed
nothing in the horror of the scene from those carried about upon
spikes at Paris; yet this was done by the English Government. It may
perhaps be said that it signifies nothing to a man what is done to him
after he is dead; but it signifies much to the living; it either
tortures their feelings or hardens their hearts, and in either case it
instructs them how to punish when power falls into their hands.
Lay then the axe to the root, and teach governments humanity. It
is their sanguinary punishments which corrupt mankind. In England
the punishment in certain cases is by hanging, drawing and quartering;
the heart of the sufferer is cut out and held up to the view of the
populace. In France, under the former Government, the punishments were
not less barbarous. Who does not remember the execution of Damien,
torn to pieces by horses? The effect of those cruel spectacles
exhibited to the populace is to destroy tenderness or excite
revenge; and by the base and false idea of governing men by terror,
instead of reason, they become precedents. It is over the lowest class
of mankind that government by terror is intended to operate, and it is
on them that it operates to the worst effect. They have sense enough
to feel they are the objects aimed at; and they inflict in their
turn the examples of terror they have been instructed to practise.
There is in all European countries a large class of people of that
description, which in England is called the "mob." Of this class
were those who committed the burnings and devastations in London in
1780, and of this class were those who carried the heads on iron
spikes in Paris. Foulon and Berthier were taken up in the country, and
sent to Paris, to undergo their examination at the Hotel de Ville; for
the National Assembly, immediately on the new ministry coming into
office, passed a decree, which they communicated to the King and
Cabinet, that they (the National Assembly) would hold the ministry, of
which Foulon was one, responsible for the measures they were
advising and pursuing; but the mob, incensed at the appearance of
Foulon and Berthier, tore them from their conductors before they
were carried to the Hotel de Ville, and executed them on the spot. Why
then does Mr. Burke charge outrages of this kind on a whole people? As
well may he charge the riots and outrages of 1780 on all the people of
London, or those in Ireland on all his countrymen.
But everything we see or hear offensive to our feelings and
derogatory to the human character should lead to other reflections
than those of reproach. Even the beings who commit them have some
claim to our consideration. How then is it that such vast classes of
mankind as are distinguished by the appellation of the vulgar, or
the ignorant mob, are so numerous in all old countries? The instant we
ask ourselves this question, reflection feels an answer. They rise, as
an unavoidable consequence, out of the ill construction of all old
governments in Europe, England included with the rest. It is by
the badges of this conquest, and it is from this source that the
capriciousness of election arises.
The French Constitution says that the number of representatives
for any place shall be in a ratio to the number of taxable inhabitants
or electors. What article will Mr. Burke place against this? The
county of York, which contains nearly a million of souls, sends two
county members; and so does the county of Rutland, which contains
not an hundredth part of that number. The old town of Sarum, which
contains not three houses, sends two members; and the town of
Manchester, which contains upward of sixty thousand souls, is not
admitted to send any. Is there any principle in these things? It is
admitted that all this is altered, but there is much to be done yet,
before we have a fair representation of the people. Is there
anything by which you can trace the marks of freedom, or discover
those of wisdom? No wonder then Mr. Burke has declined the comparison,
and endeavored to lead his readers from the point by a wild,
unsystematical display of paradoxical rhapsodies.
The French Constitution says that the National Assembly shall be
elected every two years. What article will Mr. Burke place against
this? Why, that the nation has no right at all in the case; that the
government is perfectly arbitrary with respect to this point; and he
can quote for his authority the precedent of a former Parliament.
The French Constitution says there shall be no game laws, that the
farmer on whose lands wild game shall be found (for it is by the
produce of his lands they are fed) shall have a right to what he can
take; that there shall be no monopolies of any kind- that all trades
shall be free and every man free to follow any occupation by which
he can procure an honest livelihood, and in any place, town, or city
throughout the nation. What will Mr. Burke say to this? In England,
game is made the property of those at whose expense it is not fed; and
with respect to monopolies, the country is cut up into monopolies.
Every chartered town is an aristocratical monopoly in itself, and
the qualification of electors proceeds out of those chartered
monopolies. Is this freedom? Is this what Mr. Burke means by a
constitution?
In these chartered monopolies, a man coming from another part of the
country is hunted from them as if he were a foreign enemy. An
Englishman is not free of his own country; every one of those places
presents a barrier in his way, and tells him he is not a freeman- that
he has no rights. Within these monopolies are other monopolies. In a
city, such for instance as Bath, which contains between twenty and
thirty thousand inhabitants, the right of electing representatives
to Parliament is monopolised by about thirty-one persons. And within
these monopolies are still others. A man even of the same town,
whose parents were not in circumstances to give him an occupation,
is debarred, in many cases, from the natural right of acquiring one,
be his genius or industry what it may.
Are these things examples to hold out to a country regenerating
itself from slavery, like France? Certainly they are not, and
Conqueror was, and where he came from, and into the origin, history
and nature of what are called prerogatives. Everything must have had a
beginning, and the fog of time and antiquity should be penetrated to
discover it. Let, then, Mr. Burke bring forward his William of
Normandy, for it is to this origin that his argument goes. It also
unfortunately happens, in running this line of succession, that
another line parallel thereto presents itself, which is that if the
succession runs in the line of the conquest, the nation runs in the
line of being conquered, and it ought to rescue itself from this
reproach.
But it will perhaps be said that though the power of declaring war
descends in the heritage of the conquest, it is held in check by the
right of Parliament to withhold the supplies. It will always happen
when a thing is originally wrong that amendments do not make it right,
and it often happens that they do as much mischief one way as good the
other, and such is the case here, for if the one rashly declares war
as a matter of right, and the other peremptorily withholds the
supplies as a matter of right, the remedy becomes as bad, or worse,
than the disease. The one forces the nation to a combat, and the other
ties its hands; but the more probable issue is that the contest will
end in a collusion between the parties, and be made a screen to both.
On this question of war, three things are to be considered. First,
the right of declaring it: secondly, the right of declaring it:
secondly, the expense of supporting it: thirdly, the mode of
conducting it after it is declared. The French Constitution places the
right where the expense must fall, and this union can only be in the
nation. The mode of conducting it after it is declared, it consigns to
the executive department. Were this the case in all countries, we
should hear but little more of wars.
Before I proceed to consider other parts of the French Constitution,
and by way of relieving the fatigue of argument, I will introduce an
anecdote which I had from Dr. Franklin.
While the Doctor resided in France as Minister from America,
during the war, he had numerous proposals made to him by projectors of
every country and of every kind, who wished to go to the land that
floweth with milk and honey, America; and among the rest, there was
one who offered himself to be king. He introduced his proposal to
the Doctor by letter, which is now in the hands of M. Beaumarchais, of
Paris- stating, first, that as the Americans had dismissed or sent
away*[6] their King, that they would want another. Secondly, that
himself was a Norman. Thirdly, that he was of a more ancient family
than the Dukes of Normandy, and of a more honorable descent, his
line having never been bastardised. Fourthly, that there was already a
precedent in England of kings coming out of Normandy, and on these
grounds he rested his offer, enjoining that the Doctor would forward
it to America. But as the Doctor neither did this, nor yet sent him an
answer, the projector wrote a second letter, in which he did not, it
is true, threaten to go over and conquer America, but only with
great dignity proposed that if his offer was not accepted, an
horse, is all equivocal. What respect then can be paid to that which
describes nothing, and which means nothing? Imagination has given
figure and character to centaurs, satyrs, and down to all the fairy
tribe; but titles baffle even the powers of fancy, and are a
chimerical nondescript.
But this is not all. If a whole country is disposed to hold them
in contempt, all their value is gone, and none will own them. It is
common opinion only that makes them anything, or nothing, or worse
than nothing. There is no occasion to take titles away, for they
take themselves away when society concurs to ridicule them. This
species of imaginary consequence has visibly declined in every part of
Europe, and it hastens to its exit as the world of reason continues to
rise. There was a time when the lowest class of what are called
nobility was more thought of than the highest is now, and when a man
in armour riding throughout Christendom in quest of adventures was
more stared at than a modern Duke. The world has seen this folly fall,
and it has fallen by being laughed at, and the farce of titles will
follow its fate. The patriots of France have discovered in good time
that rank and dignity in society must take a new ground. The old one
has fallen through. It must now take the substantial ground of
character, instead of the chimerical ground of titles; and they have
brought their titles to the altar, and made of them a burnt-offering
to Reason.
If no mischief had annexed itself to the folly of titles they
would not have been worth a serious and formal destruction, such as
the National Assembly have decreed them; and this makes it necessary
to enquire farther into the nature and character of aristocracy.
That, then, which is called aristocracy in some countries and
nobility in others arose out of the governments founded upon conquest.
It was originally a military order for the purpose of supporting
military government (for such were all governments founded in
conquest); and to keep up a succession of this order for the purpose
for which it was established, all the younger branches of those
families were disinherited and the law of primogenitureship set up.
The nature and character of aristocracy shows itself to us in this
law. It is the law against every other law of nature, and Nature
herself calls for its destruction. Establish family justice, and
aristocracy falls. By the aristocratical law of primogenitureship,
in a family of six children five are exposed. Aristocracy has never
more than one child. The rest are begotten to be devoured. They are
thrown to the cannibal for prey, and the natural parent prepares the
unnatural repast.
As everything which is out of nature in man affects, more or less,
the interest of society, so does this. All the children which the
aristocracy disowns (which are all except the eldest) are, in general,
cast like orphans on a parish, to be provided for by the public, but
at a greater charge. Unnecessary offices and places in governments and
courts are created at the expense of the public to maintain them.
With what kind of parental reflections can the father or mother
fruits of his heart; and though those fruits may differ from each
other like the fruits of the earth, the grateful tribute of every
one is accepted.
A Bishop of Durham, or a Bishop of Winchester, or the archbishop who
heads the dukes, will not refuse a tythe-sheaf of wheat because it
is not a cock of hay, nor a cock of hay because it is not a sheaf of
wheat; nor a pig, because it is neither one nor the other; but these
same persons, under the figure of an established church, will not
permit their Maker to receive the varied tythes of man's devotion.
One of the continual choruses of Mr. Burke's book is "Church and
State." He does not mean some one particular church, or some one
particular state, but any church and state; and he uses the term as
a general figure to hold forth the political doctrine of always
uniting the church with the state in every country, and he censures
the National Assembly for not having done this in France. Let us
bestow a few thoughts on this subject.
All religions are in their nature kind and benign, and united with
principles of morality. They could not have made proselytes at first
by professing anything that was vicious, cruel, persecuting, or
immoral. Like everything else, they had their beginning; and they
proceeded by persuasion, exhortation, and example. How then is it that
they lose their native mildness, and become morose and intolerant?
It proceeds from the connection which Mr. Burke recommends. By
engendering the church with the state, a sort of mule-animal,
capable only of destroying, and not of breeding up, is produced,
called the Church established by Law. It is a stranger, even from
its birth, to any parent mother, on whom it is begotten, and whom in
time it kicks out and destroys.
The inquisition in Spain does not proceed from the religion
originally professed, but from this mule-animal, engendered between
the church and the state. The burnings in Smithfield proceeded from
the same heterogeneous production; and it was the regeneration of this
strange animal in England afterwards, that renewed rancour and
irreligion among the inhabitants, and that drove the people called
Quakers and Dissenters to America. Persecution is not an original
feature in any religion; but it is alway the strongly-marked feature
of all law-religions, or religions established by law. Take away the
law-establishment, and every religion re-assumes its original
benignity. In America, a catholic priest is a good citizen, a good
character, and a good neighbour; an episcopalian minister is of the
same description: and this proceeds independently of the men, from
there being no law-establishment in America.
If also we view this matter in a temporal sense, we shall see the
ill effects it has had on the prosperity of nations. The union of
church and state has impoverished Spain. The revoking the edict of
Nantes drove the silk manufacture from that country into England;
and church and state are now driving the cotton manufacture from
England to America and France. Let then Mr. Burke continue to preach
his antipolitical doctrine of Church and State. It will do some
good. The National Assembly will not follow his advice, but will
benefit by his folly. It was by observing the ill effects of it in
England, that America has been warned against it; and it is by
experiencing them in France, that the National Assembly have abolished
it, and, like America, have established UNIVERSAL RIGHT OF CONSCIENCE,
AND UNIVERSAL RIGHT OF CITIZENSHIP.*[7]
I will here cease the comparison with respect to the principles of
the French Constitution, and conclude this part of the subject with
a few observations on the organisation of the formal parts of the
French and English governments.
The executive power in each country is in the hands of a person
styled the King; but the French Constitution distinguishes between the
King and the Sovereign: It considers the station of King as
official, and places Sovereignty in the nation.
The representatives of the nation, who compose the National
Assembly, and who are the legislative power, originate in and from the
people by election, as an inherent right in the people.- In England it
is otherwise; and this arises from the original establishment of
what is called its monarchy; for, as by the conquest all the rights of
the people or the nation were absorbed into the hands of the
Conqueror, and who added the title of King to that of Conqueror, those
same matters which in France are now held as rights in the people,
or in the nation, are held in England as grants from what is called
the crown. The Parliament in England, in both its branches, was
erected by patents from the descendants of the Conqueror. The House of
Commons did not originate as a matter of right in the people to
delegate or elect, but as a grant or boon.
By the French Constitution the nation is always named before the
king. The third article of the declaration of rights says: "The nation
is essentially the source (or fountain) of all sovereignty." Mr. Burke
argues that in England a king is the fountain- that he is the fountain
of all honour. But as this idea is evidently descended from the
conquest I shall make no other remark upon it, than that it is the
nature of conquest to turn everything upside down; and as Mr. Burke
will not be refused the privilege of speaking twice, and as there
are but two parts in the figure, the fountain and the spout, he will
be right the second time.
The French Constitution puts the legislative before the executive,
the law before the king; la loi, le roi. This also is in the natural
order of things, because laws must have existence before they can have
execution.
A king in France does not, in addressing himself to the National
Assembly, say, "My Assembly," similar to the phrase used in England of
my "Parliament"; neither can he use it consistently with the
constitution, nor could it be admitted. There may be propriety in
the use of it in England, because as is before mentioned, both
Houses of Parliament originated from what is called the crown by
patent or boon- and not from the inherent rights of the people, as the
National Assembly does in France, and whose name designates its
origin.
The President of the National Assembly does not ask the King to
grant to the Assembly liberty of speech, as is the case with the
English House of Commons. The constitutional dignity of the National
Assembly cannot debase itself. Speech is, in the first place, one of
the natural rights of man always retained; and with respect to the
National Assembly the use of it is their duty, and the nation is their
authority. They were elected by the greatest body of men exercising
the right of election the European world ever saw. They sprung not
from the filth of rotten boroughs, nor are they the vassal
representatives of aristocratical ones. Feeling the proper dignity
of their character they support it. Their Parliamentary language,
whether for or against a question, is free, bold and manly, and
extends to all the parts and circumstances of the case. If any
matter or subject respecting the executive department or the person
who presides in it (the king) comes before them it is debated on
with the spirit of men, and in the language of gentlemen; and their
answer or their address is returned in the same style. They stand
not aloof with the gaping vacuity of vulgar ignorance, nor bend with
the cringe of sycophantic insignificance. The graceful pride of
truth knows no extremes, and preserves, in every latitude of life, the
right-angled character of man.
Let us now look to the other side of the question. In the
addresses of the English Parliaments to their kings we see neither the
intrepid spirit of the old Parliaments of France, nor the serene
dignity of the present National Assembly; neither do we see in them
anything of the style of English manners, which border somewhat on
bluntness. Since then they are neither of foreign extraction, nor
naturally of English production, their origin must be sought for
elsewhere, and that origin is the Norman Conquest. They are
evidently of the vassalage class of manners, and emphatically mark the
prostrate distance that exists in no other condition of men than
between the conqueror and the conquered. That this vassalage idea
and style of speaking was not got rid of even at the Revolution of
1688, is evident from the declaration of Parliament to William and
Mary in these words: "We do most humbly and faithfully submit
ourselves, our heirs and posterities, for ever." Submission is
wholly a vassalage term, repugnant to the dignity of freedom, and an
echo of the language used at the Conquest.
As the estimation of all things is given by comparison, the
Revolution of 1688, however from circumstances it may have been
exalted beyond its value, will find its level. It is already on the
wane, eclipsed by the enlarging orb of reason, and the luminous
revolutions of America and France. In less than another century it
will go, as well as Mr. Burke's labours, "to the family vault of all
the Capulets." Mankind will then scarcely believe that a country
calling itself free would send to Holland for a man, and clothe him
with power on purpose to put themselves in fear of him, and give him
almost a million sterling a year for leave to submit themselves and
are of the serious kind; but they laboured under the same disadvantage
with Montesquieu; their writings abound with moral maxims of
government, but are rather directed to economise and reform the
administration of the government, than the government itself.
But all those writings and many others had their weight; and by
the different manner in which they treated the subject of
government, Montesquieu by his judgment and knowledge of laws,
Voltaire by his wit, Rousseau and Raynal by their animation, and
Quesnay and Turgot by their moral maxims and systems of economy,
readers of every class met with something to their taste, and a spirit
of political inquiry began to diffuse itself through the nation at the
time the dispute between England and the then colonies of America
broke out.
In the war which France afterwards engaged in, it is very well known
that the nation appeared to be before-hand with the French ministry.
Each of them had its view; but those views were directed to
different objects; the one sought liberty, and the other retaliation
on England. The French officers and soldiers who after this went to
America, were eventually placed in the school of Freedom, and
learned the practice as well as the principles of it by heart.
As it was impossible to separate the military events which took
place in America from the principles of the American Revolution, the
publication of those events in France necessarily connected themselves
with the principles which produced them. Many of the facts were in
themselves principles; such as the declaration of American
Independence, and the treaty of alliance between France and America,
which recognised the natural rights of man, and justified resistance
to oppression.
The then Minister of France, Count Vergennes, was not the friend
of America; and it is both justice and gratitude to say, that it was
the Queen of France who gave the cause of America a fashion at the
French Court. Count Vergennes was the personal and social friend of
Dr. Franklin; and the Doctor had obtained, by his sensible
gracefulness, a sort of influence over him; but with respect to
principles Count Vergennes was a despot.
The situation of Dr. Franklin, as Minister from America to France,
should be taken into the chain of circumstances. The diplomatic
character is of itself the narrowest sphere of society that man can
act in. It forbids intercourse by the reciprocity of suspicion; and
a diplomatic is a sort of unconnected atom, continually repelling
and repelled. But this was not the case with Dr. Franklin. He was
not the diplomatic of a Court, but of MAN. His character as a
philosopher had been long established, and his circle of society in
France was universal.
Count Vergennes resisted for a considerable time the publication
in France of American constitutions, translated into the French
language: but even in this he was obliged to give way to public
opinion, and a sort of propriety in admitting to appear what he had
undertaken to defend. The American constitutions were to liberty
Paris.
The edicts were again tendered to them, and the Count D'Artois
undertook to act as representative of the King. For this purpose he
came from Versailles to Paris, in a train of procession; and the
Parliament were assembled to receive him. But show and parade had lost
their influence in France; and whatever ideas of importance he might
set off with, he had to return with those of mortification and
disappointment. On alighting from his carriage to ascend the steps
of the Parliament House, the crowd (which was numerously collected)
threw out trite expressions, saying: "This is Monsieur D'Artois, who
wants more of our money to spend." The marked disapprobation which
he saw impressed him with apprehensions, and the word Aux armes! (To
arms!) was given out by the officer of the guard who attended him.
It was so loudly vociferated, that it echoed through the avenues of
the house, and produced a temporary confusion. I was then standing
in one of the apartments through which he had to pass, and could not
avoid reflecting how wretched was the condition of a disrespected man.
He endeavoured to impress the Parliament by great words, and
opened his authority by saying, "The King, our Lord and Master." The
Parliament received him very coolly, and with their usual
determination not to register the taxes: and in this manner the
interview ended.
After this a new subject took place: In the various debates and
contests which arose between the Court and the Parliaments on the
subject of taxes, the Parliament of Paris at last declared that
although it had been customary for Parliaments to enregister edicts
for taxes as a matter of convenience, the right belonged only to the
States-General; and that, therefore, the Parliament could no longer
with propriety continue to debate on what it had not authority to act.
The King after this came to Paris and held a meeting with the
Parliament, in which he continued from ten in the morning till about
six in the evening, and, in a manner that appeared to proceed from him
as if unconsulted upon with the Cabinet or Ministry, gave his word
to the Parliament that the States-General should be convened.
But after this another scene arose, on a ground different from all
the former. The Minister and the Cabinet were averse to calling the
States-General. They well knew that if the States-General were
assembled, themselves must fall; and as the King had not mentioned any
time, they hit on a project calculated to elude, without appearing
to oppose.
For this purpose, the Court set about making a sort of
constitution itself. It was principally the work of M. Lamoignon,
the Keeper of the Seals, who afterwards shot himself. This new
arrangement consisted in establishing a body under the name of a
Cour Pleniere, or Full Court, in which were invested all the powers
that the Government might have occasion to make use of. The persons
composing this Court were to be nominated by the King; the contended
right of taxation was given up on the part of the King, and a new
criminal code of laws and law proceedings was substituted in the
moment like the separate headquarters of two combatant armies; yet the
Court was as perfectly ignorant of the information which had arrived
from Paris to the National Assembly, as if it had resided at an
hundred miles distance. The then Marquis de la Fayette, who (as has
been already mentioned) was chosen to preside in the National Assembly
on this particular occasion, named by order of the Assembly three
successive deputations to the king, on the day and up to the evening
on which the Bastille was taken, to inform and confer with him on
the state of affairs; but the ministry, who knew not so much as that
it was attacked, precluded all communication, and were solacing
themselves how dextrously they had succeeded; but in a few hours the
accounts arrived so thick and fast that they had to start from their
desks and run. Some set off in one disguise, and some in another,
and none in their own character. Their anxiety now was to outride
the news, lest they should be stopt, which, though it flew fast,
flew not so fast as themselves.
It is worth remarking that the National Assembly neither pursued
those fugitive conspirators, nor took any notice of them, nor sought
to retaliate in any shape whatever. Occupied with establishing a
constitution founded on the Rights of Man and the Authority of the
People, the only authority on which Government has a right to exist in
any country, the National Assembly felt none of those mean passions
which mark the character of impertinent governments, founding
themselves on their own authority, or on the absurdity of hereditary
succession. It is the faculty of the human mind to become what it
contemplates, and to act in unison with its object.
The conspiracy being thus dispersed, one of the first works of the
National Assembly, instead of vindictive proclamations, as has been
the case with other governments, was to publish a declaration of the
Rights of Man, as the basis on which the new constitution was to be
built, and which is here subjoined:
declare, in the presence of the Supreme Being, and with the hope of
his blessing and favour, the following sacred rights of men and of
citizens:
ONE: MEN ARE BORN, AND ALWAYS CONTINUE, FREE AND EQUAL IN
RESPECT OF
THEIR RIGHTS. CIVIL DISTINCTIONS, THEREFORE, CAN BE FOUNDED ONLY
ON
PUBLIC UTILITY.
TWO: THE END OF ALL POLITICAL ASSOCIATIONS IS THE PRESERVATION
OF
THE NATURAL AND IMPRESCRIPTIBLE RIGHTS OF MAN; AND THESE
RIGHTS ARE
LIBERTY, PROPERTY, SECURITY, AND RESISTANCE OF OPPRESSION.
THREE: THE NATION IS ESSENTIALLY THE SOURCE OF ALL SOVEREIGNTY;
NOR CAN ANY INDIVIDUAL, OR ANY BODY OF MEN, BE ENTITLED TO ANY
AUTHORITY WHICH IS NOT EXPRESSLY DERIVED FROM IT.
FOUR: POLITICAL LIBERTY CONSISTS IN THE POWER OF DOING
WHATEVER DOES
NOT INJURE ANOTHER. THE EXERCISE OF THE NATURAL RIGHTS OF
EVERY MAN,
HAS NO OTHER LIMITS THAN THOSE WHICH ARE NECESSARY TO SECURE
TO
EVERY OTHER MAN THE FREE EXERCISE OF THE SAME RIGHTS; AND
THESE LIMITS
ARE DETERMINABLE ONLY BY THE LAW
FIVE: THE LAW OUGHT TO PROHIBIT ONLY ACTIONS HURTFUL TO
SOCIETY.
WHAT IS NOT PROHIBITED BY THE LAW SHOULD NOT BE HINDERED; NOR
SHOULD
ANYONE BE COMPELLED TO THAT WHICH THE LAW DOES NOT REQUIRE
SIX: THE LAW IS AN EXPRESSION OF THE WILL OF THE COMMUNITY. ALL
CITIZENS HAVE A RIGHT TO CONCUR, EITHER PERSONALLY OR BY THEIR
REPRESENTATIVES, IN ITS FORMATION. IT SHOULD BE THE SAME TO ALL,
WHETHER IT PROTECTS OR PUNISHES; AND ALL BEING EQUAL IN ITS
SIGHT, ARE
EQUALLY ELIGIBLE TO ALL HONOURS, PLACES, AND EMPLOYMENTS,
ACCORDING TO
THEIR DIFFERENT ABILITIES, WITHOUT ANY OTHER DISTINCTION THAN
THAT
CREATED BY THEIR VIRTUES AND TALENTS
SEVEN: NO MAN SHOULD BE ACCUSED, ARRESTED, OR HELD IN
CONFINEMENT,
EXCEPT IN CASES DETERMINED BY THE LAW, AND ACCORDING TO THE
FORMS
WHICH IT HAS PRESCRIBED. ALL WHO PROMOTE, SOLICIT, EXECUTE, OR
CAUSE
TO BE EXECUTED, ARBITRARY ORDERS, OUGHT TO BE PUNISHED, AND
EVERY
CITIZEN CALLED UPON, OR APPREHENDED BY VIRTUE OF THE LAW,
OUGHT
IMMEDIATELY TO OBEY, AND RENDERS HIMSELF CULPABLE BY
RESISTANCE.
EIGHT: THE LAW OUGHT TO IMPOSE NO OTHER PENALTIES BUT SUCH AS
ARE
ABSOLUTELY AND EVIDENTLY NECESSARY; AND NO ONE OUGHT TO BE
PUNISHED,
BUT IN VIRTUE OF A LAW PROMULGATED BEFORE THE OFFENCE, AND
LEGALLY
APPLIED.
NINE: EVERY MAN BEING PRESUMED INNOCENT TILL HE HAS BEEN
CONVICTED, WHENEVER HIS DETENTION BECOMES INDISPENSABLE, ALL
RIGOUR TO
HIM, MORE THAN IS NECESSARY TO SECURE HIS PERSON, OUGHT TO BE
PROVIDED
AGAINST BY THE LAW.
TEN: NO MAN OUGHT TO BE MOLESTED ON ACCOUNT OF HIS OPINIONS,
NOT
EVEN ON ACCOUNT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS, PROVIDED HIS AVOWAL
OF THEM
DOES NOT DISTURB THE PUBLIC ORDER ESTABLISHED BY THE LAW.
ELEVEN: THE UNRESTRAINED COMMUNICATION OF THOUGHTS AND
OPINIONS
BEING ONE OF THE MOST PRECIOUS RIGHTS OF MAN, EVERY CITIZEN
MAY SPEAK,
WRITE, AND PUBLISH FREELY, PROVIDED HE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE
ABUSE OF
THIS LIBERTY, IN CASES DETERMINED BY THE LAW.
TWELVE: A PUBLIC FORCE BEING NECESSARY TO GIVE SECURITY TO THE
RIGHTS OF MEN AND OF CITIZENS, THAT FORCE IS INSTITUTED FOR THE
BENEFIT OF THE COMMUNITY AND NOT FOR THE PARTICULAR BENEFIT OF
THE
PERSONS TO WHOM IT IS INTRUSTED.
THIRTEEN: A COMMON CONTRIBUTION BEING NECESSARY FOR THE
SUPPORT OF
THE PUBLIC FORCE, AND FOR DEFRAYING THE OTHER EXPENSES OF
GOVERNMENT, IT OUGHT TO BE DIVIDED EQUALLY AMONG THE MEMBERS
OF THE
COMMUNITY, ACCORDING TO THEIR ABILITIES.
FOURTEEN: EVERY CITIZEN HAS A RIGHT, EITHER BY HIMSELF OR HIS
REPRESENTATIVE, TO A FREE VOICE IN DETERMINING THE NECESSITY OF
PUBLIC
CONTRIBUTIONS, THE APPROPRIATION OF THEM, AND THEIR AMOUNT,
MODE OF
ASSESSMENT, AND DURATION.
FIFTEEN: EVERY COMMUNITY HAS A RIGHT TO DEMAND OF ALL ITS
AGENTS
AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR CONDUCT.
SIXTEEN: EVERY COMMUNITY IN WHICH A SEPARATION OF POWERS AND
A
SECURITY OF RIGHTS IS NOT PROVIDED FOR, WANTS A CONSTITUTION.
SEVENTEEN: THE RIGHT TO PROPERTY BEING INVIOLABLE AND SACRED,
NO ONE
OUGHT TO BE DEPRIVED OF IT, EXCEPT IN CASES OF EVIDENT PUBLIC
NECESSITY, LEGALLY ASCERTAINED, AND ON CONDITION OF A PREVIOUS
JUST
INDEMNITY.
PT 1 OBSERVATIONS
Observations on the Declaration of Rights
The first three articles comprehend in general terms the whole of
a Declaration of Rights, all the succeeding articles either
originate from them or follow as elucidations. The 4th, 5th, and 6th
define more particularly what is only generally expressed in the
1st, 2nd, and 3rd.
The 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th articles are declaratory of
principles upon which laws shall be constructed, conformable to rights
already declared. But it is questioned by some very good people in
France, as well as in other countries, whether the 10th article
sufficiently guarantees the right it is intended to accord with;
besides which it takes off from the divine dignity of religion, and
weakens its operative force upon the mind, to make it a subject of
human laws. It then presents itself to man like light intercepted by a
cloudy medium, in which the source of it is obscured from his sight,
and he sees nothing to reverence in the dusky ray.*[10]
The remaining articles, beginning with the twelfth, are
substantially contained in the principles of the preceding articles;
but in the particular situation in which France then was, having to
undo what was wrong, as well as to set up what was right, it was
proper to be more particular than what in another condition of
things would be necessary.
While the Declaration of Rights was before the National Assembly
some of its members remarked that if a declaration of rights were
published it should be accompanied by a Declaration of Duties. The
observation discovered a mind that reflected, and it only erred by not
reflecting far enough. A Declaration of Rights is, by reciprocity, a
Declaration of Duties also. Whatever is my right as a man is also
the right of another; and it becomes my duty to guarantee as well as
to possess.
The three first articles are the base of Liberty, as well individual
as national; nor can any country be called free whose government
does not take its beginning from the principles they contain, and
continue to preserve them pure; and the whole of the Declaration of
Rights is of more value to the world, and will do more good, than
all the laws and statutes that have yet been promulgated.
In the declaratory exordium which prefaces the Declaration of Rights
we see the solemn and majestic spectacle of a nation opening its
commission, under the auspices of its Creator, to establish a
Miscellaneous Chapter
To prevent interrupting the argument in the preceding part of this
work, or the narrative that follows it, I reserved some observations
to be thrown together in a Miscellaneous Chapter; by which variety
might not be censured for confusion. Mr. Burke's book is all
Miscellany. His intention was to make an attack on the French
Revolution; but instead of proceeding with an orderly arrangement,
he has stormed it with a mob of ideas tumbling over and destroying one
another.
But this confusion and contradiction in Mr. Burke's Book is easily
accounted for.- When a man in a wrong cause attempts to steer his
course by anything else than some polar truth or principle, he is sure
to be lost. It is beyond the compass of his capacity to keep all the
parts of an argument together, and make them unite in one issue, by
any other means than having this guide always in view. Neither
memory nor invention will supply the want of it. The former fails him,
and the latter betrays him.
Notwithstanding the nonsense, for it deserves no better name, that
Mr. Burke has asserted about hereditary rights, and hereditary
succession, and that a Nation has not a right to form a Government
of itself; it happened to fall in his way to give some account of what
Government is. "Government," says he, "is a contrivance of human
wisdom.
the country; part of whose daily labour goes towards making up the
million sterling a-year, which the country gives the person it
styles a king. Government with insolence is despotism; but when
contempt is added it becomes worse; and to pay for contempt is the
excess of slavery. This species of government comes from Germany;
and reminds me of what one of the Brunswick soldiers told me, who
was taken prisoner by, the Americans in the late war: "Ah!" said he,
"America is a fine free country, it is worth the people's fighting
for; I know the difference by knowing my own: in my country, if the
prince says eat straw, we eat straw." God help that country, thought
I, be it England or elsewhere, whose liberties are to be protected
by German principles of government, and Princes of Brunswick!
As Mr. Burke sometimes speaks of England, sometimes of France, and
sometimes of the world, and of government in general, it is
difficult to answer his book without apparently meeting him on the
same ground. Although principles of Government are general subjects,
it is next to impossible, in many cases, to separate them from the
idea of place and circumstance, and the more so when circumstances are
put for arguments, which is frequently the case with Mr. Burke.
In the former part of his book, addressing himself to the people
of France, he says: "No experience has taught us (meaning the
English), that in any other course or method than that of a hereditary
crown, can our liberties be regularly perpetuated and preserved sacred
as our hereditary right." I ask Mr. Burke, who is to take them away?
M. de la Fayette, in speaking to France, says: "For a Nation to be
free, it is sufficient that she wills it." But Mr. Burke represents
England as wanting capacity to take care of itself, and that its
liberties must be taken care of by a King holding it in "contempt." If
England is sunk to this, it is preparing itself to eat straw, as in
Hanover, or in Brunswick. But besides the folly of the declaration, it
happens that the facts are all against Mr. Burke. It was by the
government being hereditary, that the liberties of the people were
endangered. Charles I. and James II. are instances of this truth;
yet neither of them went so far as to hold the Nation in contempt.
As it is sometimes of advantage to the people of one country to hear
what those of other countries have to say respecting it, it is
possible that the people of France may learn something from Mr.
Burke's book, and that the people of England may also learn
something from the answers it will occasion. When Nations fall out
about freedom, a wide field of debate is opened. The argument
commences with the rights of war, without its evils, and as
knowledge is the object contended for, the party that sustains the
defeat obtains the prize.
Mr. Burke talks about what he calls an hereditary crown, as if it
were some production of Nature; or as if, like Time, it had a power to
operate, not only independently, but in spite of man; or as if it were
a thing or a subject universally consented to. Alas! it has none of
those properties, but is the reverse of them all. It is a thing in
imagination, the propriety of which is more than doubted, and the
far declined, that the goodness of the man, and the respect for his
personal character, are the only things that preserve the appearance
of its existence.
If government be what Mr. Burke describes it, "a contrivance of
human wisdom" I might ask him, if wisdom was at such a low ebb in
England, that it was become necessary to import it from Holland and
from Hanover? But I will do the country the justice to say, that was
not the case; and even if it was it mistook the cargo. The wisdom of
every country, when properly exerted, is sufficient for all its
purposes; and there could exist no more real occasion in England to
have sent for a Dutch Stadtholder, or a German Elector, than there was
in America to have done a similar thing. If a country does not
understand its own affairs, how is a foreigner to understand them, who
knows neither its laws, its manners, nor its language? If there
existed a man so transcendently wise above all others, that his wisdom
was necessary to instruct a nation, some reason might be offered for
monarchy; but when we cast our eyes about a country, and observe how
every part understands its own affairs; and when we look around the
world, and see that of all men in it, the race of kings are the most
insignificant in capacity, our reason cannot fail to ask us- What
are those men kept for?
If there is anything in monarchy which we people of America do not
understand, I wish Mr. Burke would be so kind as to inform us. I see
in America, a government extending over a country ten times as large
as England, and conducted with regularity, for a fortieth part of
the expense which Government costs in England. If I ask a man in
America if he wants a King, he retorts, and asks me if I take him
for an idiot? How is it that this difference happens? are we more or
less wise than others? I see in America the generality of people
living in a style of plenty unknown in monarchical countries; and I
see that the principle of its government, which is that of the equal
Rights of Man, is making a rapid progress in the world.
If monarchy is a useless thing, why is it kept up anywhere? and if a
necessary thing, how can it be dispensed with? That civil government
is necessary, all civilized nations will agree; but civil government
is republican government. All that part of the government of England
which begins with the office of constable, and proceeds through the
department of magistrate, quarter-sessions, and general assize,
including trial by jury, is republican government. Nothing of monarchy
appears in any part of it, except in the name which William the
Conqueror imposed upon the English, that of obliging them to call
him "Their Sovereign Lord the King."
It is easy to conceive that a band of interested men, such as
Placemen, Pensioners, Lords of the bed-chamber, Lords of the
kitchen, Lords of the necessary-house, and the Lord knows what
besides, can find as many reasons for monarchy as their salaries, paid
at the expense of the country, amount to; but if I ask the farmer, the
manufacturer, the merchant, the tradesman, and down through all the
occupations of life to the common labourer, what service monarchy is
last; the question is, how long can the funding system last? It is a
thing but of modern invention, and has not yet continued beyond the
life of a man; yet in that short space it has so far accumulated,
that, together with the current expenses, it requires an amount of
taxes at least equal to the whole landed rental of the nation in acres
to defray the annual expenditure. That a government could not have
always gone on by the same system which has been followed for the last
seventy years, must be evident to every man; and for the same reason
it cannot always go on.
The funding system is not money; neither is it, properly speaking,
credit. It, in effect, creates upon paper the sum which it appears
to borrow, and lays on a tax to keep the imaginary capital alive by
the payment of interest and sends the annuity to market, to be sold
for paper already in circulation. If any credit is given, it is to the
disposition of the people to pay the tax, and not to the government,
which lays it on. When this disposition expires, what is supposed to
be the credit of Government expires with it. The instance of France
under the former Government shows that it is impossible to compel
the payment of taxes by force, when a whole nation is determined to
take its stand upon that ground.
Mr. Burke, in his review of the finances of France, states the
quantity of gold and silver in France, at about eighty-eight
millions sterling. In doing this, he has, I presume, divided by the
difference of exchange, instead of the standard of twenty-four
livres to a pound sterling; for M. Neckar's statement, from which
Mr. Burke's is taken, is two thousand two hundred millions of
livres, which is upwards of ninety-one millions and a half sterling.
M. Neckar in France, and Mr. George Chalmers at the Office of
Trade and Plantation in England, of which Lord Hawkesbury is
president, published nearly about the same time (1786) an account of
the quantity of money in each nation, from the returns of the Mint
of each nation. Mr. Chalmers, from the returns of the English Mint
at the Tower of London, states the quantity of money in England,
including Scotland and Ireland, to be twenty millions sterling.*[12]
M. Neckar*[13] says that the amount of money in France, recoined
from the old coin which was called in, was two thousand five hundred
millions of livres (upwards of one hundred and four millions
sterling); and, after deducting for waste, and what may be in the West
Indies and other possible circumstances, states the circulation
quantity at home to be ninety-one millions and a half sterling; but,
taking it as Mr. Burke has put it, it is sixty-eight millions more
than the national quantity in England.
That the quantity of money in France cannot be under this sum, may
at once be seen from the state of the French Revenue, without
referring to the records of the French Mint for proofs. The revenue of
France, prior to the Revolution, was nearly twenty-four millions
sterling; and as paper had then no existence in France the whole
revenue was collected upon gold and silver; and it would have been
impossible to have collected such a quantity of revenue upon a less
natural France existed as before, and all the natural means existed
with it. The only chasm was that the extinction of despotism had left,
and which was to be filled up with the Constitution more formidable in
resources than the power which had expired.
Although the French Nation rendered the late Government insolvent,
it did not permit the insolvency to act towards the creditors; and the
creditors, considering the Nation as the real pay-master, and the
Government only as the agent, rested themselves on the nation, in
preference to the Government. This appears greatly to disturb Mr.
Burke, as the precedent is fatal to the policy by which governments
have supposed themselves secure. They have contracted debts, with a
view of attaching what is called the monied interest of a Nation to
their support; but the example in France shows that the permanent
security of the creditor is in the Nation, and not in the
Government; and that in all possible revolutions that may happen in
Governments, the means are always with the Nation, and the Nation
always in existence. Mr. Burke argues that the creditors ought to have
abided the fate of the Government which they trusted; but the National
Assembly considered them as the creditors of the Nation, and not of
the Government- of the master, and not of the steward.
Notwithstanding the late government could not discharge the
current expenses, the present government has paid off a great part
of the capital. This has been accomplished by two means; the one by
lessening the expenses of government, and the other by the sale of the
monastic and ecclesiastical landed estates. The devotees and
penitent debauchees, extortioners and misers of former days, to ensure
themselves a better world than that they were about to leave, had
bequeathed immense property in trust to the priesthood for pious uses;
and the priesthood kept it for themselves. The National Assembly has
ordered it to be sold for the good of the whole nation, and the
priesthood to be decently provided for.
In consequence of the revolution, the annual interest of the debt of
France will be reduced at least six millions sterling, by paying off
upwards of one hundred millions of the capital; which, with
lessening the former expenses of government at least three millions,
will place France in a situation worthy the imitation of Europe.
Upon a whole review of the subject, how vast is the contrast!
While Mr. Burke has been talking of a general bankruptcy in France,
the National Assembly has been paying off the capital of its debt; and
while taxes have increased near a million a year in England, they have
lowered several millions a year in France. Not a word has either Mr.
Burke or Mr. Pitt said about the French affairs, or the state of the
French finances, in the present Session of Parliament. The subject
begins to be too well understood, and imposition serves no longer.
There is a general enigma running through the whole of Mr. Burke's
book. He writes in a rage against the National Assembly; but what is
he enraged about? If his assertions were as true as they are
groundless, and that France by her Revolution, had annihilated her
power, and become what he calls a chasm, it might excite the grief
Conclusion
Reason and Ignorance, the opposites of each other, influence the
great bulk of mankind. If either of these can be rendered sufficiently
extensive in a country, the machinery of Government goes easily on.
Reason obeys itself; and Ignorance submits to whatever is dictated
to it.
The two modes of the Government which prevail in the world, are-
First, Government by election and representation.
Secondly, Government by hereditary succession.
The former is generally known by the name of republic; the latter by
that of monarchy and aristocracy.
Those two distinct and opposite forms erect themselves on the two
distinct and opposite bases of Reason and Ignorance.- As the
exercise of Government requires talents and abilities, and as
talents and abilities cannot have hereditary descent, it is evident
that hereditary succession requires a belief from man to which his
reason cannot subscribe, and which can only be established upon his
ignorance; and the more ignorant any country is, the better it is
fitted for this species of Government.
On the contrary, Government, in a well-constituted republic,
requires no belief from man beyond what his reason can give. He sees
the rationale of the whole system, its origin and its operation; and
as it is best supported when best understood, the human faculties
act with boldness, and acquire, under this form of government, a
gigantic manliness.
As, therefore, each of those forms acts on a different base, the one
moving freely by the aid of reason, the other by ignorance; we have
next to consider, what it is that gives motion to that species of
Government which is called mixed Government, or, as it is sometimes
ludicrously styled, a Government of this, that and t' other.
The moving power in this species of Government is, of necessity,
To conceive a cause why such a plan has not been adopted (and that
instead of a Congress for the purpose of preventing war, it has been
called only to terminate a war, after a fruitless expense of several
years) it will be necessary to consider the interest of Governments as
a distinct interest to that of Nations.
Whatever is the cause of taxes to a Nation, becomes also the means
of revenue to Government. Every war terminates with an addition of
taxes, and consequently with an addition of revenue; and in any
event of war, in the manner they are now commenced and concluded,
the power and interest of Governments are increased. War, therefore,
from its productiveness, as it easily furnishes the pretence of
necessity for taxes and appointments to places and offices, becomes
a principal part of the system of old Governments; and to establish
any mode to abolish war, however advantageous it might be to
Nations, would be to take from such Government the most lucrative of
its branches. The frivolous matters upon which war is made, show the
disposition and avidity of Governments to uphold the system of war,
and betray the motives upon which they act.
Why are not Republics plunged into war, but because the nature of
their Government does not admit of an interest distinct from that of
the Nation? Even Holland, though an ill-constructed Republic, and with
a commerce extending over the world, existed nearly a century
without war: and the instant the form of Government was changed in
France, the republican principles of peace and domestic prosperity and
economy arose with the new Government; and the same consequences would
follow the cause in other Nations.
As war is the system of Government on the old construction, the
animosity which Nations reciprocally entertain, is nothing more than
what the policy of their Governments excites to keep up the spirit
of the system. Each Government accuses the other of perfidy, intrigue,
and ambition, as a means of heating the imagination of their
respective Nations, and incensing them to hostilities. Man is not
the enemy of man, but through the medium of a false system of
Government. Instead, therefore, of exclaiming against the ambition
of Kings, the exclamation should be directed against the principle
of such Governments; and instead of seeking to reform the
individual, the wisdom of a Nation should apply itself to reform the
system.
Whether the forms and maxims of Governments which are still in
practice, were adapted to the condition of the world at the period
they were established, is not in this case the question. The older
they are, the less correspondence can they have with the present state
of things. Time, and change of circumstances and opinions, have the
same progressive effect in rendering modes of Government obsolete as
they have upon customs and manners.- Agriculture, commerce,
manufactures, and the tranquil arts, by which the prosperity of
Nations is best promoted, require a different system of Government,
and a different species of knowledge to direct its operations, than
what might have been required in the former condition of the world.
To M. de la Fayette
After an acquaintance of nearly fifteen years in difficult
situations in America, and various consultations in Europe, I feel a
pleasure in presenting to you this small treatise, in gratitude for
your services to my beloved America, and as a testimony of my esteem
for the virtues, public and private, which I know you to possess.
The only point upon which I could ever discover that we differed was
not as to principles of government, but as to time. For my own part
I think it equally as injurious to good principles to permit them to
linger, as to push them on too fast. That which you suppose
accomplishable in fourteen or fifteen years, I may believe practicable
in a much shorter period. Mankind, as it appears to me, are always
ripe enough to understand their true interest, provided it be
presented clearly to their understanding, and that in a manner not
to create suspicion by anything like self-design, nor offend by
assuming too much. Where we would wish to reform we must not reproach.
When the American revolution was established I felt a disposition to
sit serenely down and enjoy the calm. It did not appear to me that any
object could afterwards arise great enough to make me quit tranquility
and feel as I had felt before. But when principle, and not place, is
the energetic cause of action, a man, I find, is everywhere the same.
I am now once more in the public world; and as I have not a right to
contemplate on so many years of remaining life as you have, I have
Preface
When I began the chapter entitled the "Conclusion" in the former
part of the RIGHTS OF MAN, published last year, it was my intention to
have extended it to a greater length; but in casting the whole
matter in my mind, which I wish to add, I found that it must either
make the work too bulky, or contract my plan too much. I therefore
brought it to a close as soon as the subject would admit, and reserved
what I had further to say to another opportunity.
Several other reasons contributed to produce this determination. I
wished to know the manner in which a work, written in a style of
thinking and expression different to what had been customary in
England, would be received before I proceeded farther. A great field
was opening to the view of mankind by means of the French
Revolution. Mr. Burke's outrageous opposition thereto brought the
controversy into England. He attacked principles which he knew (from
information) I would contest with him, because they are principles I
believe to be good, and which I have contributed to establish, and
conceive myself bound to defend. Had he not urged the controversy, I
had most probably been a silent man.
Another reason for deferring the remainder of the work was, that Mr.
Burke promised in his first publication to renew the subject at
another opportunity, and to make a comparison of what he called the
English and French Constitutions. I therefore held myself in reserve
for him. He has published two works since, without doing this: which
he certainly would not have omitted, had the comparison been in his
favour.
In his last work, his "Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs," he has
quoted about ten pages from the RIGHTS OF MAN, and having given
himself the trouble of doing this, says he "shall not attempt in the
smallest degree to refute them," meaning the principles therein
contained. I am enough acquainted with Mr. Burke to know that he would
if he could. But instead of contesting them, he immediately after
consoles himself with saying that "he has done his part."- He has
not done his part. He has not performed his promise of a comparison of
constitutions. He started the controversy, he gave the challenge,
and has fled from it; and he is now a case in point with his own
opinion that "the age of chivalry is gone!"
The title, as well as the substance of his last work, his
"Appeal," is his condemnation. Principles must stand on their own
merits, and if they are good they certainly will. To put them under
the shelter of other men's authority, as Mr. Burke has done, serves to
bring them into suspicion. Mr. Burke is not very fond of dividing
his honours, but in this case he is artfully dividing the disgrace.
But who are those to whom Mr. Burke has made his appeal? A set of
childish thinkers, and half-way politicians born in the last
century, men who went no farther with any principle than as it
suited their purposes as a party; the nation was always left out of
the question; and this has been the character of every party from that
day to this. The nation sees nothing of such works, or such
politics, worthy its attention. A little matter will move a party, but
it must be something great that moves a nation.
Though I see nothing in Mr. Burke's "Appeal" worth taking much
notice of, there is, however, one expression upon which I shall
offer a few remarks. After quoting largely from the RIGHTS OF MAN, and
declining to contest the principles contained in that work, he says:
"This will most probably be done (if such writings shall be thought to
deserve any other refutation than that of criminal justice) by others,
who may think with Mr. Burke and with the same zeal."
In the first place, it has not yet been done by anybody. Not less, I
believe, than eight or ten pamphlets intended as answers to the former
part of the RIGHTS OF MAN have been published by different persons,
and not one of them to my knowledge, has extended to a second edition,
nor are even the titles of them so much as generally remembered. As
I am averse to unnecessary multiplying publications, I have answered
none of them. And as I believe that a man may write himself out of
reputation when nobody else can do it, I am careful to avoid that
rock.
But as I would decline unnecessary publications on the one hand,
so would I avoid everything that might appear like sullen pride on the
other. If Mr. Burke, or any person on his side the question, will
produce an answer to the RIGHTS OF MAN that shall extend to a half, or
even to a fourth part of the number of copies to which the RIGHTS OF
MAN extended, I will reply to his work. But until this be done, I
shall so far take the sense of the public for my guide (and the
world knows I am not a flatterer) that what they do not think worth
while to read, is not worth mine to answer. I suppose the number of
copies to which the first part of the RIGHTS OF MAN extended, taking
England, Scotland, and Ireland, is not less than between forty and
fifty thousand.
I now come to remark on the remaining part of the quotation I have
made from Mr. Burke.
"If," says he, "such writings shall be thought to deserve any
other refutation than that of criminal justice."
Pardoning the pun, it must be criminal justice indeed that should
condemn a work as a substitute for not being able to refute it. The
greatest condemnation that could be passed upon it would be a
refutation. But in proceeding by the method Mr. Burke alludes to,
the condemnation would, in the final event, pass upon the
criminality of the process and not upon the work, and in this case,
I had rather be the author, than be either the judge or the jury
that should condemn it.
But to come at once to the point. I have differed from some
professional gentlemen on the subject of prosecutions, and I since
find they are falling into my opinion, which I will here state as
fully, but as concisely as I can.
I will first put a case with respect to any law, and then compare it
with a government, or with what in England is, or has been, called a
constitution.
It would be an act of despotism, or what in England is called
arbitrary power, to make a law to prohibit investigating the
principles, good or bad, on which such a law, or any other is founded.
If a law be bad it is one thing to oppose the practice of it, but it
is quite a different thing to expose its errors, to reason on its
defects, and to show cause why it should be repealed, or why another
ought to be substituted in its place. I have always held it an opinion
(making it also my practice) that it is better to obey a bad law,
making use at the same time of every argument to show its errors and
procure its repeal, than forcibly to violate it; because the precedent
of breaking a bad law might weaken the force, and lead to a
discretionary violation, of those which are good.
The case is the same with respect to principles and forms of
government, or to what are called constitutions and the parts of which
they are, composed.
It is for the good of nations and not for the emolument or
aggrandisement of particular individuals, that government ought to
be established, and that mankind are at the expense of supporting
it. The defects of every government and constitution both as to
principle and form, must, on a parity of reasoning, be as open to
discussion as the defects of a law, and it is a duty which every man
owes to society to point them out. When those defects, and the means
of remedying them, are generally seen by a nation, that nation will
reform its government or its constitution in the one case, as the
government repealed or reformed the law in the other. The operation of
government is restricted to the making and the administering of
laws; but it is to a nation that the right of forming or reforming,
generating or regenerating constitutions and governments belong; and
consequently those subjects, as subjects of investigation, are
always before a country as a matter of right, and cannot, without
invading the general rights of that country, be made subjects for
prosecution. On this ground I will meet Mr. Burke whenever he
please. It is better that the whole argument should come out than to
seek to stifle it. It was himself that opened the controversy, and
he ought not to desert it.
Introduction
What Archimedes said of the mechanical powers, may be applied to
Reason and Liberty. "Had we," said he, "a place to stand upon, we
might raise the world."
The revolution of America presented in politics what was only theory
in mechanics. So deeply rooted were all the governments of the old
world, and so effectually had the tyranny and the antiquity of habit
established itself over the mind, that no beginning could be made in
Asia, Africa, or Europe, to reform the political condition of man.
Freedom had been hunted round the globe; reason was considered as
rebellion; and the slavery of fear had made men afraid to think.
But such is the irresistible nature of truth, that all it asks,- and
all it wants,- is the liberty of appearing. The sun needs no
inscription to distinguish him from darkness; and no sooner did the
American governments display themselves to the world, than despotism
felt a shock and man began to contemplate redress.
The independence of America, considered merely as a separation
from England, would have been a matter but of little importance, had
it not been accompanied by a revolution in the principles and practice
of governments. She made a stand, not for herself only, but for the
world, and looked beyond the advantages herself could receive. Even
the Hessian, though hired to fight against her, may live to bless
his defeat; and England, condemning the viciousness of its government,
rejoice in its miscarriage.
As America was the only spot in the political world where the
principle of universal reformation could begin, so also was it the
best in the natural world. An assemblage of circumstances conspired,
not only to give birth, but to add gigantic maturity to its
principles. The scene which that country presents to the eye of a
spectator, has something in it which generates and encourages great
Reason, like time, will make its own way, and prejudice will fall in a
combat with interest. If universal peace, civilisation, and commerce
are ever to be the happy lot of man, it cannot be accomplished but
by a revolution in the system of governments. All the monarchical
governments are military. War is their trade, plunder and revenue
their objects. While such governments continue, peace has not the
absolute security of a day. What is the history of all monarchical
governments but a disgustful picture of human wretchedness, and the
accidental respite of a few years' repose? Wearied with war, and tired
with human butchery, they sat down to rest, and called it peace.
This certainly is not the condition that heaven intended for man;
and if this be monarchy, well might monarchy be reckoned among the
sins of the Jews.
The revolutions which formerly took place in the world had nothing
in them that interested the bulk of mankind. They extended only to a
change of persons and measures, but not of principles, and rose or
fell among the common transactions of the moment. What we now behold
may not improperly be called a "counter-revolution." Conquest and
tyranny, at some earlier period, dispossessed man of his rights, and
he is now recovering them. And as the tide of all human affairs has
its ebb and flow in directions contrary to each other, so also is it
in this. Government founded on a moral theory, on a system of
universal peace, on the indefeasible hereditary Rights of Man, is
now revolving from west to east by a stronger impulse than the
government of the sword revolved from east to west. It interests not
particular individuals, but nations in its progress, and promises a
new era to the human race.
The danger to which the success of revolutions is most exposed is
that of attempting them before the principles on which they proceed,
and the advantages to result from them, are sufficiently seen and
understood. Almost everything appertaining to the circumstances of a
nation, has been absorbed and confounded under the general and
mysterious word government. Though it avoids taking to its account the
errors it commits, and the mischiefs it occasions, it fails not to
arrogate to itself whatever has the appearance of prosperity. It
robs industry of its honours, by pedantically making itself the
cause of its effects; and purloins from the general character of
man, the merits that appertain to him as a social being.
It may therefore be of use in this day of revolutions to
discriminate between those things which are the effect of
government, and those which are not. This will best be done by
taking a review of society and civilisation, and the consequences
resulting therefrom, as things distinct from what are called
governments. By beginning with this investigation, we shall be able to
assign effects to their proper causes and analyse the mass of common
errors.
CHAPTER I
Of Society and Civilisation
Great part of that order which reigns among mankind is not the
effect of government. It has its origin in the principles of society
and the natural constitution of man. It existed prior to government,
and would exist if the formality of government was abolished. The
mutual dependence and reciprocal interest which man has upon man,
and all the parts of civilised community upon each other, create
that great chain of connection which holds it together. The
landholder, the farmer, the manufacturer, the merchant, the tradesman,
and every occupation, prospers by the aid which each receives from the
other, and from the whole. Common interest regulates their concerns,
and forms their law; and the laws which common usage ordains, have a
greater influence than the laws of government. In fine, society
performs for itself almost everything which is ascribed to government.
To understand the nature and quantity of government proper for
man, it is necessary to attend to his character. As Nature created him
for social life, she fitted him for the station she intended. In all
cases she made his natural wants greater than his individual powers.
No one man is capable, without the aid of society, of supplying his
own wants, and those wants, acting upon every individual, impel the
whole of them into society, as naturally as gravitation acts to a
centre.
But she has gone further. She has not only forced man into society
by a diversity of wants which the reciprocal aid of each other can
supply, but she has implanted in him a system of social affections,
which, though not necessary to his existence, are essential to his
happiness. There is no period in life when this love for society
ceases to act. It begins and ends with our being.
If we examine with attention into the composition and constitution
of man, the diversity of his wants, and the diversity of talents in
different men for reciprocally accommodating the wants of each
other, his propensity to society, and consequently to preserve the
advantages resulting from it, we shall easily discover, that a great
part of what is called government is mere imposition.
Government is no farther necessary than to supply the few cases to
which society and civilisation are not conveniently competent; and
instances are not wanting to show, that everything which government
can usefully add thereto, has been performed by the common consent
of society, without government.
For upwards of two years from the commencement of the American
War, and to a longer period in several of the American States, there
were no established forms of government. The old governments had
been abolished, and the country was too much occupied in defence to
employ its attention in establishing new governments; yet during
this interval order and harmony were preserved as inviolate as in
any country in Europe. There is a natural aptness in man, and more
so in society, because it embraces a greater variety of abilities
and resource, to accommodate itself to whatever situation it is in.
The instant formal government is abolished, society begins to act: a
general association takes place, and common interest produces common
security.
So far is it from being true, as has been pretended, that the
abolition of any formal government is the dissolution of society, that
it acts by a contrary impulse, and brings the latter the closer
together. All that part of its organisation which it had committed
to its government, devolves again upon itself, and acts through its
medium. When men, as well from natural instinct as from reciprocal
benefits, have habituated themselves to social and civilised life,
there is always enough of its principles in practice to carry them
through any changes they may find necessary or convenient to make in
their government. In short, man is so naturally a creature of
society that it is almost impossible to put him out of it.
Formal government makes but a small part of civilised life; and when
even the best that human wisdom can devise is established, it is a
thing more in name and idea than in fact. It is to the great and
fundamental principles of society and civilisation- to the common
usage universally consented to, and mutually and reciprocally
maintained- to the unceasing circulation of interest, which, passing
through its million channels, invigorates the whole mass of
civilised man- it is to these things, infinitely more than to anything
which even the best instituted government can perform, that the safety
and prosperity of the individual and of the whole depends.
The more perfect civilisation is, the less occasion has it for
government, because the more does it regulate its own affairs, and
govern itself; but so contrary is the practice of old governments to
the reason of the case, that the expenses of them increase in the
proportion they ought to diminish. It is but few general laws that
civilised life requires, and those of such common usefulness, that
whether they are enforced by the forms of government or not, the
effect will be nearly the same. If we consider what the principles are
that first condense men into society, and what are the motives that
regulate their mutual intercourse afterwards, we shall find, by the
time we arrive at what is called government, that nearly the whole
of the business is performed by the natural operation of the parts
upon each other.
Man, with respect to all those matters, is more a creature of
consistency than he is aware, or than governments would wish him to
believe. All the great laws of society are laws of nature. Those of
trade and commerce, whether with respect to the intercourse of
individuals or of nations, are laws of mutual and reciprocal interest.
They are followed and obeyed, because it is the interest of the
parties so to do, and not on account of any formal laws their
governments may impose or interpose.
But how often is the natural propensity to society disturbed or
destroyed by the operations of government! When the latter, instead of
being ingrafted on the principles of the former, assumes to exist
for itself, and acts by partialities of favour and oppression, it
becomes the cause of the mischiefs it ought to prevent.
If we look back to the riots and tumults which at various times have
happened in England, we shall find that they did not proceed from
the want of a government, but that government was itself the
generating cause; instead of consolidating society it divided it; it
deprived it of its natural cohesion, and engendered discontents and
disorders which otherwise would not have existed. In those
associations which men promiscuously form for the purpose of trade, or
of any concern in which government is totally out of the question, and
in which they act merely on the principles of society, we see how
naturally the various parties unite; and this shows, by comparison,
that governments, so far from being always the cause or means of
order, are often the destruction of it. The riots of 1780 had no other
source than the remains of those prejudices which the government
itself had encouraged. But with respect to England there are also
other causes.
Excess and inequality of taxation, however disguised in the means,
never fail to appear in their effects. As a great mass of the
community are thrown thereby into poverty and discontent, they are
constantly on the brink of commotion; and deprived, as they
unfortunately are, of the means of information, are easily heated to
outrage. Whatever the apparent cause of any riots may be, the real one
is always want of happiness. It shows that something is wrong in the
system of government that injures the felicity by which society is
to be preserved.
But as a fact is superior to reasoning, the instance of America
presents itself to confirm these observations. If there is a country
in the world where concord, according to common calculation, would
be least expected, it is America. Made up as it is of people from
different nations,*[16] accustomed to different forms and habits of
government, speaking different languages, and more different in
their modes of worship, it would appear that the union of such a
people was impracticable; but by the simple operation of
constructing government on the principles of society and the rights of
man, every difficulty retires, and all the parts are brought into
cordial unison. There the poor are not oppressed, the rich are not
privileged. Industry is not mortified by the splendid extravagance
of a court rioting at its expense. Their taxes are few, because
their government is just: and as there is nothing to render them
wretched, there is nothing to engender riots and tumults.
A metaphysical man, like Mr. Burke, would have tortured his
invention to discover how such a people could be governed. He would
have supposed that some must be managed by fraud, others by force, and
all by some contrivance; that genius must be hired to impose upon
ignorance, and show and parade to fascinate the vulgar. Lost in the
abundance of his researches, he would have resolved and re-resolved,
and finally overlooked the plain and easy road that lay directly
before him.
One of the great advantages of the American Revolution has been,
that it led to a discovery of the principles, and laid open the
imposition, of governments. All the revolutions till then had been
CHAPTER II
Of the Origin of the Present Old Governments
It is impossible that such governments as have hitherto existed in
the world, could have commenced by any other means than a total
violation of every principle sacred and moral. The obscurity in
which the origin of all the present old governments is buried, implies
the iniquity and disgrace with which they began. The origin of the
present government of America and France will ever be remembered,
because it is honourable to record it; but with respect to the rest,
even Flattery has consigned them to the tomb of time, without an
inscription.
It could have been no difficult thing in the early and solitary ages
of the world, while the chief employment of men was that of
attending flocks and herds, for a banditti of ruffians to overrun a
country, and lay it under contributions. Their power being thus
established, the chief of the band contrived to lose the name of
Robber in that of Monarch; and hence the origin of Monarchy and Kings.
The origin of the Government of England, so far as relates to what
is called its line of monarchy, being one of the latest, is perhaps
the best recorded. The hatred which the Norman invasion and tyranny
begat, must have been deeply rooted in the nation, to have outlived
the contrivance to obliterate it. Though not a courtier will talk of
the curfew-bell, not a village in England has forgotten it.
Those bands of robbers having parcelled out the world, and divided
it into dominions, began, as is naturally the case, to quarrel with
each other. What at first was obtained by violence was considered by
others as lawful to be taken, and a second plunderer succeeded the
first. They alternately invaded the dominions which each had
assigned to himself, and the brutality with which they treated each
other explains the original character of monarchy. It was ruffian
torturing ruffian. The conqueror considered the conquered, not as
his prisoner, but his property. He led him in triumph rattling in
chains, and doomed him, at pleasure, to slavery or death. As time
CHAPTER III
Of the Old and New Systems of Government
Nothing can appear more contradictory than the principles on which
the old governments began, and the condition to which society,
civilisation and commerce are capable of carrying mankind. Government,
on the old system, is an assumption of power, for the aggrandisement
of itself; on the new, a delegation of power for the common benefit of
society. The former supports itself by keeping up a system of war; the
latter promotes a system of peace, as the true means of enriching a
We have heard the Rights of Man called a levelling system; but the
only system to which the word levelling is truly applicable, is the
hereditary monarchical system. It is a system of mental levelling.
It indiscriminately admits every species of character to the same
authority. Vice and virtue, ignorance and wisdom, in short, every
quality good or bad, is put on the same level. Kings succeed each
other, not as rationals, but as animals. It signifies not what their
mental or moral characters are. Can we then be surprised at the abject
state of the human mind in monarchical countries, when the
government itself is formed on such an abject levelling system?- It
has no fixed character. To-day it is one thing; to-morrow it is
something else. It changes with the temper of every succeeding
individual, and is subject to all the varieties of each. It is
government through the medium of passions and accidents. It appears
under all the various characters of childhood, decrepitude, dotage,
a thing at nurse, in leading-strings, or in crutches. It reverses
the wholesome order of nature. It occasionally puts children over men,
and the conceits of nonage over wisdom and experience. In short, we
cannot conceive a more ridiculous figure of government, than
hereditary succession, in all its cases, presents.
Could it be made a decree in nature, or an edict registered in
heaven, and man could know it, that virtue and wisdom should
invariably appertain to hereditary succession, the objection to it
would be removed; but when we see that nature acts as if she
disowned and sported with the hereditary system; that the mental
character of successors, in all countries, is below the average of
human understanding; that one is a tyrant, another an idiot, a third
insane, and some all three together, it is impossible to attach
confidence to it, when reason in man has power to act.
It is not to the Abbe Sieyes that I need apply this reasoning; he
has already saved me that trouble by giving his own opinion upon the
case. "If it be asked," says he, "what is my opinion with respect to
hereditary right, I answer without hesitation, That in good theory, an
hereditary transmission of any power of office, can never accord
with the laws of a true representation. Hereditaryship is, in this
sense, as much an attaint upon principle, as an outrage upon
society. But let us," continues he, "refer to the history of all
elective monarchies and principalities: is there one in which the
elective mode is not worse than the hereditary succession?"
As to debating on which is the worst of the two, it is admitting
both to be bad; and herein we are agreed. The preference which the
Abbe has given, is a condemnation of the thing that he prefers. Such a
mode of reasoning on such a subject is inadmissible, because it
finally amounts to an accusation upon Providence, as if she had left
to man no other choice with respect to government than between two
evils, the best of which he admits to be "an attaint upon principle,
and an outrage upon society."
Passing over, for the present, all the evils and mischiefs which
monarchy has occasioned in the world, nothing can more effectually
CHAPTER IV
Of Constitutions
That men mean distinct and separate things when they speak of
constitutions and of governments, is evident; or why are those terms
distinctly and separately used? A constitution is not the act of a
government, but of a people constituting a government; and
government without a constitution, is power without a right.
All power exercised over a nation, must have some beginning. It must
either be delegated or assumed. There are no other sources. All
delegated power is trust, and all assumed power is usurpation. Time
controls the whole government, and has a natural ability to do so. The
final controlling power, therefore, and the original constituting
power, are one and the same power.
Dr. Johnson could not have advanced such a position in any country
where there was a constitution; and he is himself an evidence that
no such thing as a constitution exists in England. But it may be put
as a question, not improper to be investigated, that if a constitution
does not exist, how came the idea of its existence so generally
established?
In order to decide this question, it is necessary to consider a
constitution in both its cases:- First, as creating a government and
giving it powers. Secondly, as regulating and restraining the powers
so given.
If we begin with William of Normandy, we find that the government of
England was originally a tyranny, founded on an invasion and
conquest of the country. This being admitted, it will then appear,
that the exertion of the nation, at different periods, to abate that
tyranny, and render it less intolerable, has been credited for a
constitution.
Magna Charta, as it was called (it is now like an almanack of the
same date), was no more than compelling the government to renounce a
part of its assumptions. It did not create and give powers to
government in a manner a constitution does; but was, as far as it
went, of the nature of a re-conquest, and not a constitution; for
could the nation have totally expelled the usurpation, as France has
done its despotism, it would then have had a constitution to form.
The history of the Edwards and the Henries, and up to the
commencement of the Stuarts, exhibits as many instances of tyranny
as could be acted within the limits to which the nation had restricted
it. The Stuarts endeavoured to pass those limits, and their fate is
well known. In all those instances we see nothing of a constitution,
but only of restrictions on assumed power.
After this, another William, descended from the same stock, and
claiming from the same origin, gained possession; and of the two
evils, James and William, the nation preferred what it thought the
least; since, from circumstances, it must take one. The act, called
the Bill of Rights, comes here into view. What is it, but a bargain,
which the parts of the government made with each other to divide
powers, profits, and privileges? You shall have so much, and I will
have the rest; and with respect to the nation, it said, for your
share, YOU shall have the right of petitioning. This being the case,
the bill of rights is more properly a bill of wrongs, and of insult.
As to what is called the convention parliament, it was a thing that
made itself, and then made the authority by which it acted. A few
persons got together, and called themselves by that name. Several of
them had never been elected, and none of them for the purpose.
From the time of William a species of government arose, issuing
out of this coalition bill of rights; and more so, since the
corruption introduced at the Hanover succession by the agency of
is that something?
Generally speaking, we know of no other creatures that inhabit the
earth than man and beast; and in all cases, where only two things
offer themselves, and one must be admitted, a negation proved on any
one, amounts to an affirmative on the other; and therefore, Mr. Burke,
by proving against the Rights of Man, proves in behalf of the beast;
and consequently, proves that government is a beast; and as
difficult things sometimes explain each other, we now see the origin
of keeping wild beasts in the Tower; for they certainly can be of no
other use than to show the origin of the government. They are in the
place of a constitution. O John Bull, what honours thou hast lost by
not being a wild beast. Thou mightest, on Mr. Burke's system, have
been in the Tower for life.
If Mr. Burke's arguments have not weight enough to keep one serious,
the fault is less mine than his; and as I am willing to make an
apology to the reader for the liberty I have taken, I hope Mr. Burke
will also make his for giving the cause.
Having thus paid Mr. Burke the compliment of remembering him, I
return to the subject.
From the want of a constitution in England to restrain and
regulate the wild impulse of power, many of the laws are irrational
and tyrannical, and the administration of them vague and
problematical.
The attention of the government of England (for I rather choose to
call it by this name than the English government) appears, since its
political connection with Germany, to have been so completely
engrossed and absorbed by foreign affairs, and the means of raising
taxes, that it seems to exist for no other purposes. Domestic concerns
are neglected; and with respect to regular law, there is scarcely such
a thing.
Almost every case must now be determined by some precedent, be
that precedent good or bad, or whether it properly applies or not; and
the practice is become so general as to suggest a suspicion, that it
proceeds from a deeper policy than at first sight appears.
Since the revolution of America, and more so since that of France,
this preaching up the doctrines of precedents, drawn from times and
circumstances antecedent to those events, has been the studied
practice of the English government. The generality of those precedents
are founded on principles and opinions, the reverse of what they
ought; and the greater distance of time they are drawn from, the
more they are to be suspected. But by associating those precedents
with a superstitious reverence for ancient things, as monks show
relics and call them holy, the generality of mankind are deceived into
the design. Governments now act as if they were afraid to awaken a
single reflection in man. They are softly leading him to the sepulchre
of precedents, to deaden his faculties and call attention from the
scene of revolutions. They feel that he is arriving at knowledge
faster than they wish, and their policy of precedents is the barometer
of their fears. This political popery, like the ecclesiastical
popery of old, has had its day, and is hastening to its exit. The
ragged relic and the antiquated precedent, the monk and the monarch,
will moulder together.
Government by precedent, without any regard to the principle of
the precedent, is one of the vilest systems that can be set up. In
numerous instances, the precedent ought to operate as a warning, and
not as an example, and requires to be shunned instead of imitated; but
instead of this, precedents are taken in the lump, and put at once for
constitution and for law.
Either the doctrine of precedents is policy to keep a man in a state
of ignorance, or it is a practical confession that wisdom
degenerates in governments as governments increase in age, and can
only hobble along by the stilts and crutches of precedents. How is
it that the same persons who would proudly be thought wiser than their
predecessors, appear at the same time only as the ghosts of departed
wisdom? How strangely is antiquity treated! To some purposes it is
spoken of as the times of darkness and ignorance, and to answer
others, it is put for the light of the world.
If the doctrine of precedents is to be followed, the expenses of
government need not continue the same. Why pay men extravagantly,
who have but little to do? If everything that can happen is already in
precedent, legislation is at an end, and precedent, like a dictionary,
determines every case. Either, therefore, government has arrived at
its dotage, and requires to be renovated, or all the occasions for
exercising its wisdom have occurred.
We now see all over Europe, and particularly in England, the curious
phenomenon of a nation looking one way, and the government the
other- the one forward and the other backward. If governments are to
go on by precedent, while nations go on by improvement, they must at
last come to a final separation; and the sooner, and the more
civilly they determine this point, the better.*[20]
Having thus spoken of constitutions generally, as things distinct
from actual governments, let us proceed to consider the parts of which
a constitution is composed.
Opinions differ more on this subject than with respect to the whole.
That a nation ought to have a constitution, as a rule for the
conduct of its government, is a simple question in which all men,
not directly courtiers, will agree. It is only on the component
parts that questions and opinions multiply.
But this difficulty, like every other, will diminish when put into a
train of being rightly understood.
The first thing is, that a nation has a right to establish a
constitution.
Whether it exercises this right in the most judicious manner at
first is quite another case. It exercises it agreeably to the judgment
it possesses; and by continuing to do so, all errors will at last be
exploded.
When this right is established in a nation, there is no fear that it
will be employed to its own injury. A nation can have no interest in
being wrong.
Though all the constitutions of America are on one general
principle, yet no two of them are exactly alike in their component
parts, or in the distribution of the powers which they give to the
actual governments. Some are more, and others less complex.
In forming a constitution, it is first necessary to consider what
are the ends for which government is necessary? Secondly, what are the
best means, and the least expensive, for accomplishing those ends?
Government is nothing more than a national association; and the
object of this association is the good of all, as well individually as
collectively. Every man wishes to pursue his occupation, and to
enjoy the fruits of his labours and the produce of his property in
peace and safety, and with the least possible expense. When these
things are accomplished, all the objects for which government ought to
be established are answered.
It has been customary to consider government under three distinct
general heads. The legislative, the executive, and the judicial.
But if we permit our judgment to act unincumbered by the habit of
multiplied terms, we can perceive no more than two divisions of power,
of which civil government is composed, namely, that of legislating
or enacting laws, and that of executing or administering them.
Everything, therefore, appertaining to civil government, classes
itself under one or other of these two divisions.
So far as regards the execution of the laws, that which is called
the judicial power, is strictly and properly the executive power of
every country. It is that power to which every individual has
appeal, and which causes the laws to be executed; neither have we
any other clear idea with respect to the official execution of the
laws. In England, and also in America and France, this power begins
with the magistrate, and proceeds up through all the courts of
judicature.
I leave to courtiers to explain what is meant by calling monarchy
the executive power. It is merely a name in which acts of government
are done; and any other, or none at all, would answer the same
purpose. Laws have neither more nor less authority on this account. It
must be from the justness of their principles, and the interest
which a nation feels therein, that they derive support; if they
require any other than this, it is a sign that something in the system
of government is imperfect. Laws difficult to be executed cannot be
generally good.
With respect to the organization of the legislative power, different
modes have been adopted in different countries. In America it is
generally composed of two houses. In France it consists but of one,
but in both countries, it is wholly by representation.
The case is, that mankind (from the long tyranny of assumed power)
have had so few opportunities of making the necessary trials on
modes and principles of government, in order to discover the best,
that government is but now beginning to be known, and experience is
yet wanting to determine many particulars.
he can form a marriage partnership that will produce almost the same
thing. Under such circumstances, it is happy for England that she is
not situated on the Continent, or she might, like Holland, fall
under the dictatorship of Prussia. Holland, by marriage, is as
effectually governed by Prussia, as if the old tyranny of
bequeathing the government had been the means.
The presidency in America (or, as it is sometimes called, the
executive) is the only office from which a foreigner is excluded,
and in England it is the only one to which he is admitted. A foreigner
cannot be a member of Parliament, but he may be what is called a king.
If there is any reason for excluding foreigners, it ought to be from
those offices where mischief can most be acted, and where, by
uniting every bias of interest and attachment, the trust is best
secured. But as nations proceed in the great business of forming
constitutions, they will examine with more precision into the nature
and business of that department which is called the executive. What
the legislative and judicial departments are every one can see; but
with respect to what, in Europe, is called the executive, as
distinct from those two, it is either a political superfluity or a
chaos of unknown things.
Some kind of official department, to which reports shall be made
from the different parts of a nation, or from abroad, to be laid
before the national representatives, is all that is necessary; but
there is no consistency in calling this the executive; neither can
it be considered in any other light than as inferior to the
legislative. The sovereign authority in any country is the power of
making laws, and everything else is an official department.
Next to the arrangement of the principles and the organization of
the several parts of a constitution, is the provision to be made for
the support of the persons to whom the nation shall confide the
administration of the constitutional powers.
A nation can have no right to the time and services of any person at
his own expense, whom it may choose to employ or entrust in any
department whatever; neither can any reason be given for making
provision for the support of any one part of a government and not
for the other.
But admitting that the honour of being entrusted with any part of
a government is to be considered a sufficient reward, it ought to be
so to every person alike. If the members of the legislature of any
country are to serve at their own expense that which is called the
executive, whether monarchical or by any other name, ought to serve in
like manner. It is inconsistent to pay the one, and accept the service
of the other gratis.
In America, every department in the government is decently
provided for; but no one is extravagantly paid. Every member of
Congress, and of the Assemblies, is allowed a sufficiency for his
expenses. Whereas in England, a most prodigal provision is made for
the support of one part of the Government, and none for the other, the
consequence of which is that the one is furnished with the means of
corruption and the other is put into the condition of being corrupted.
Less than a fourth part of such expense, applied as it is in
America, would remedy a great part of the corruption.
Another reform in the American constitution is the exploding all
oaths of personality. The oath of allegiance in America is to the
nation only. The putting any individual as a figure for a nation is
improper. The happiness of a nation is the superior object, and
therefore the intention of an oath of allegiance ought not to be
obscured by being figuratively taken, to, or in the name of, any
person. The oath, called the civic oath, in France, viz., "the nation,
the law, and the king," is improper. If taken at all, it ought to be
as in America, to the nation only. The law may or may not be good;
but, in this place, it can have no other meaning, than as being
conducive to the happiness of a nation, and therefore is included in
it. The remainder of the oath is improper, on the ground, that all
personal oaths ought to be abolished. They are the remains of
tyranny on one part and slavery on the other; and the name of the
CREATOR ought not to be introduced to witness the degradation of his
creation; or if taken, as is already mentioned, as figurative of the
nation, it is in this place redundant. But whatever apology may be
made for oaths at the first establishment of a government, they
ought not to be permitted afterwards. If a government requires the
support of oaths, it is a sign that it is not worth supporting, and
ought not to be supported. Make government what it ought to be, and it
will support itself.
To conclude this part of the subject:- One of the greatest
improvements that have been made for the perpetual security and
progress of constitutional liberty, is the provision which the new
constitutions make for occasionally revising, altering, and amending
them.
The principle upon which Mr. Burke formed his political creed,
that of "binding and controlling posterity to the end of time, and
of renouncing and abdicating the rights of all posterity, for ever,"
is now become too detestable to be made a subject of debate; and
therefore, I pass it over with no other notice than exposing it.
Government is but now beginning to be known. Hitherto it has been
the mere exercise of power, which forbade all effectual enquiry into
rights, and grounded itself wholly on possession. While the enemy of
liberty was its judge, the progress of its principles must have been
small indeed.
The constitutions of America, and also that of France, have either
affixed a period for their revision, or laid down the mode by which
improvement shall be made. It is perhaps impossible to establish
anything that combines principles with opinions and practice, which
the progress of circumstances, through a length of years, will not
in some measure derange, or render inconsistent; and, therefore, to
prevent inconveniences accumulating, till they discourage reformations
or provoke revolutions, it is best to provide the means of
regulating them as they occur. The Rights of Man are the rights of all
CHAPTER V
WAYS AND MEANS OF IMPROVING THE CONDITION OF EUROPE
INTERSPERSED
WITH MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS
In contemplating a subject that embraces with equatorial magnitude
the whole region of humanity it is impossible to confine the pursuit
and nation with nation, the despotism of courts, though it feels the
danger and meditates revenge, is afraid to strike.
No question has arisen within the records of history that pressed
with the importance of the present. It is not whether this or that
party shall be in or not, or Whig or Tory, high or low shall
prevail; but whether man shall inherit his rights, and universal
civilisation take place? Whether the fruits of his labours shall be
enjoyed by himself or consumed by the profligacy of governments?
Whether robbery shall be banished from courts, and wretchedness from
countries?
When, in countries that are called civilised, we see age going to
the workhouse and youth to the gallows, something must be wrong in the
system of government. It would seem, by the exterior appearance of
such countries, that all was happiness; but there lies hidden from the
eye of common observation, a mass of wretchedness, that has scarcely
any other chance, than to expire in poverty or infamy. Its entrance
into life is marked with the presage of its fate; and until this is
remedied, it is in vain to punish.
Civil government does not exist in executions; but in making such
provision for the instruction of youth and the support of age, as to
exclude, as much as possible, profligacy from the one and despair from
the other. Instead of this, the resources of a country are lavished
upon kings, upon courts, upon hirelings, impostors and prostitutes;
and even the poor themselves, with all their wants upon them, are
compelled to support the fraud that oppresses them.
Why is it that scarcely any are executed but the poor? The fact is a
proof, among other things, of a wretchedness in their condition.
Bred up without morals, and cast upon the world without a prospect,
they are the exposed sacrifice of vice and legal barbarity. The
millions that are superfluously wasted upon governments are more
than sufficient to reform those evils, and to benefit the condition of
every man in a nation, not included within the purlieus of a court.
This I hope to make appear in the progress of this work.
It is the nature of compassion to associate with misfortune. In
taking up this subject I seek no recompense- I fear no consequence.
Fortified with that proud integrity, that disdains to triumph or to
yield, I will advocate the Rights of Man.
It is to my advantage that I have served an apprenticeship to
life. I know the value of moral instruction, and I have seen the
danger of the contrary.
At an early period- little more than sixteen years of age, raw and
adventurous, and heated with the false heroism of a master*[27] who
had served in a man-of-war- I began the carver of my own fortune,
and entered on board the Terrible Privateer, Captain Death. From
this adventure I was happily prevented by the affectionate and moral
remonstrance of a good father, who, from his own habits of life, being
of the Quaker profession, must begin to look upon me as lost. But
the impression, much as it effected at the time, began to wear away,
and I entered afterwards in the King of Prussia Privateer, Captain
Mendez, and went with her to sea. Yet, from such a beginning, and with
all the inconvenience of early life against me, I am proud to say,
that with a perseverance undismayed by difficulties, a
disinterestedness that compelled respect, I have not only
contributed to raise a new empire in the world, founded on a new
system of government, but I have arrived at an eminence in political
literature, the most difficult of all lines to succeed and excel in,
which aristocracy with all its aids has not been able to reach or to
rival.*[28]
Knowing my own heart and feeling myself as I now do, superior to all
the skirmish of party, the inveteracy of interested or mistaken
opponents, I answer not to falsehood or abuse, but proceed to the
defects of the English Government.
I begin with charters and corporations.
It is a perversion of terms to say that a charter gives rights. It
operates by a contrary effect- that of taking rights away. Rights
are inherently in all the inhabitants; but charters, by annulling
those rights, in the majority, leave the right, by exclusion, in the
hands of a few. If charters were constructed so as to express in
direct terms, "that every inhabitant, who is not a member of a
corporation, shall not exercise the right of voting," such charters
would, in the face, be charters not of rights, but of exclusion. The
effect is the same under the form they now stand; and the only persons
on whom they operate are the persons whom they exclude. Those whose
rights are guaranteed, by not being taken away, exercise no other
rights than as members of the community they are entitled to without a
charter; and, therefore, all charters have no other than an indirect
negative operation. They do not give rights to A, but they make a
difference in favour of A by taking away the right of B, and
consequently are instruments of injustice.
But charters and corporations have a more extensive evil effect than
what relates merely to elections. They are sources of endless
contentions in the places where they exist, and they lessen the common
rights of national society. A native of England, under the operation
of these charters and corporations, cannot be said to be an Englishman
in the full sense of the word. He is not free of the nation, in the
same manner that a Frenchman is free of France, and an American of
America. His rights are circumscribed to the town, and, in some cases,
to the parish of his birth; and all other parts, though in his
native land, are to him as a foreign country. To acquire a residence
in these, he must undergo a local naturalisation by purchase, or he is
forbidden or expelled the place. This species of feudality is kept
up to aggrandise the corporations at the ruin of towns; and the effect
is visible.
The generality of corporation towns are in a state of solitary
decay, and prevented from further ruin only by some circumstance in
their situation, such as a navigable river, or a plentiful surrounding
country. As population is one of the chief sources of wealth (for
without it land itself has no value), everything which operates to
very low, the poor were able to maintain themselves; and there were no
poor-rates.*[34] In the present state of things a labouring man,
with a wife or two or three children, does not pay less than between
seven and eight pounds a year in taxes. He is not sensible of this,
because it is disguised to him in the articles which he buys, and he
thinks only of their dearness; but as the taxes take from him, at
least, a fourth part of his yearly earnings, he is consequently
disabled from providing for a family, especially, if himself, or any
of them, are afflicted with sickness.
The first step, therefore, of practical relief, would be to
abolish the poor-rates entirely, and in lieu thereof, to make a
remission of taxes to the poor of double the amount of the present
poor-rates, viz., four millions annually out of the surplus taxes.
By this measure, the poor would be benefited two millions, and the
house-keepers two millions. This alone would be equal to a reduction
of one hundred and twenty millions of the National Debt, and
consequently equal to the whole expense of the American War.
It will then remain to be considered, which is the most effectual
mode of distributing this remission of four millions.
It is easily seen, that the poor are generally composed of large
families of children, and old people past their labour. If these two
classes are provided for, the remedy will so far reach to the full
extent of the case, that what remains will be incidental, and, in a
great measure, fall within the compass of benefit clubs, which, though
of humble invention, merit to be ranked among the best of modern
institutions.
Admitting England to contain seven millions of souls; if one-fifth
thereof are of that class of poor which need support, the number
will be one million four hundred thousand. Of this number, one hundred
and forty thousand will be aged poor, as will be hereafter shown,
and for which a distinct provision will be proposed.
There will then remain one million two hundred and sixty thousand
which, at five souls to each family, amount to two hundred and
fifty-two thousand families, rendered poor from the expense of
children and the weight of taxes.
The number of children under fourteen years of age, in each of those
families, will be found to be about five to every two families; some
having two, and others three; some one, and others four: some none,
and others five; but it rarely happens that more than five are under
fourteen years of age, and after this age they are capable of
service or of being apprenticed.
Allowing five children (under fourteen years) to every two families,
The number of children will be 630,000
The number of parents, were they all living, would be 504,000
It is certain, that if the children are provided for, the parents
are relieved of consequence, because it is from the expense of
bringing up children that their poverty arises.
Having thus ascertained the greatest number that can be supposed
to need support on account of young families, I proceed to the mode of
----------
L3,640,000
There will then remain three hundred and sixty thousand pounds out
of the four millions, part of which may be applied as follows:-
After all the above cases are provided for there will still be a
number of families who, though not properly of the class of poor,
yet find it difficult to give education to their children; and such
children, under such a case, would be in a worse condition than if
their parents were actually poor. A nation under a well-regulated
government should permit none to remain uninstructed. It is
monarchical and aristocratical government only that requires ignorance
for its support.
Suppose, then, four hundred thousand children to be in this
condition, which is a greater number than ought to be supposed after
the provisions already made, the method will be:
To allow for each of those children ten shillings a year for the
expense of schooling for six years each, which will give them six
months schooling each year, and half a crown a year for paper and
spelling books.
The expense of this will be annually L250,000.*[36]
There will then remain one hundred and ten thousand pounds.
Notwithstanding the great modes of relief which the best
instituted and best principled government may devise, there will be
a number of smaller cases, which it is good policy as well as
beneficence in a nation to consider.
Were twenty shillings to be given immediately on the birth of a
child, to every woman who should make the demand, and none will make
it whose circumstances do not require it, it might relieve a great
deal of instant distress.
There are about two hundred thousand births yearly in England; and
if claimed by one fourth,
The amount would be L50,000
And twenty shillings to every new-married couple who should claim in
like manner. This would not exceed the sum of L20,000.
Also twenty thousand pounds to be appropriated to defray the funeral
expenses of persons, who, travelling for work, may die at a distance
from their friends. By relieving parishes from this charge, the sick
stranger will be better treated.
I shall finish this part of the subject with a plan adapted to the
particular condition of a metropolis, such as London.
Cases are continually occurring in a metropolis, different from
those which occur in the country, and for which a different, or rather
an additional, mode of relief is necessary. In the country, even in
large towns, people have a knowledge of each other, and distress never
rises to that extreme height it sometimes does in a metropolis.
There is no such thing in the country as persons, in the literal sense
of the word, starved to death, or dying with cold from the want of a
lodging. Yet such cases, and others equally as miserable, happen in
London.
If this tax be struck off, there will then remain about one
million of surplus taxes; and as it is always proper to keep a sum
in reserve, for incidental matters, it may be best not to extend
reductions further in the first instance, but to consider what may
be accomplished by other modes of reform.
Among the taxes most heavily felt is the commutation tax. I shall
therefore offer a plan for its abolition, by substituting another in
its place, which will effect three objects at once: 1, that of
removing the burthen to where it can best be borne; 2, restoring
justice among families by a distribution of property; 3, extirpating
the overgrown influence arising from the unnatural law of
primogeniture, which is one of the principal sources of corruption
at elections. The amount of commutation tax by the returns of 1788,
was L771,657.
When taxes are proposed, the country is amused by the plausible
language of taxing luxuries. One thing is called a luxury at one time,
and something else at another; but the real luxury does not consist in
the article, but in the means of procuring it, and this is always kept
out of sight.
I know not why any plant or herb of the field should be a greater
luxury in one country than another; but an overgrown estate in
either is a luxury at all times, and, as such, is the proper object of
taxation. It is, therefore, right to take those kind tax-making
gentlemen up on their own word, and argue on the principle
themselves have laid down, that of taxing luxuries. If they or their
champion, Mr. Burke, who, I fear, is growing out of date, like the man
in armour, can prove that an estate of twenty, thirty, or forty
thousand pounds a year is not a luxury, I will give up the argument.
Admitting that any annual sum, say, for instance, one thousand
pounds, is necessary or sufficient for the support of a family,
consequently the second thousand is of the nature of a luxury, the
third still more so, and by proceeding on, we shall at last arrive
at a sum that may not improperly be called a prohibitable luxury. It
would be impolitic to set bounds to property acquired by industry, and
therefore it is right to place the prohibition beyond the probable
acquisition to which industry can extend; but there ought to be a
limit to property or the accumulation of it by bequest. It should pass
in some other line. The richest in every nation have poor relations,
and those often very near in consanguinity.
The following table of progressive taxation is constructed on the
above principles, and as a substitute for the commutation tax. It will
reach the point of prohibition by a regular operation, and thereby
supersede the aristocratical law of primogeniture.
TABLE I
A tax on all estates of the clear yearly value of L50,
after deducting the land tax, and up
To L500 0s 3d per pound
From L500 to L1,000 0 6
On the second thousand 0 9
L10,630.
Although an enquiry into the origin of those estates be unnecessary,
the continuation of them in their present state is another subject. It
is a matter of national concern. As hereditary estates, the law has
created the evil, and it ought also to provide the remedy.
Primogeniture ought to be abolished, not only because it is
unnatural and unjust, but because the country suffers by its
operation. By cutting off (as before observed) the younger children
from their proper portion of inheritance, the public is loaded with
the expense of maintaining them; and the freedom of elections violated
by the overbearing influence which this unjust monopoly of family
property produces. Nor is this all. It occasions a waste of national
property. A considerable part of the land of the country is rendered
unproductive, by the great extent of parks and chases which this law
serves to keep up, and this at a time when the annual production of
grain is not equal to the national consumption.*[38]- In short, the
evils of the aristocratical system are so great and numerous, so
inconsistent with every thing that is just, wise, natural, and
beneficent, that when they are considered, there ought not to be a
doubt that many, who are now classed under that description, will wish
to see such a system abolished.
What pleasure can they derive from contemplating the exposed
condition, and almost certain beggary of their younger offspring?
Every aristocratical family has an appendage of family beggars hanging
round it, which in a few ages, or a few generations, are shook off,
and console themselves with telling their tale in almshouses,
workhouses, and prisons. This is the natural consequence of
aristocracy. The peer and the beggar are often of the same family. One
extreme produces the other: to make one rich many must be made poor;
neither can the system be supported by other means.
There are two classes of people to whom the laws of England are
particularly hostile, and those the most helpless; younger children,
and the poor. Of the former I have just spoken; of the latter I
shall mention one instance out of the many that might be produced, and
with which I shall close this subject.
Several laws are in existence for regulating and limiting work-men's
wages. Why not leave them as free to make their own bargains, as the
law-makers are to let their farms and houses? Personal labour is all
the property they have. Why is that little, and the little freedom
they enjoy, to be infringed? But the injustice will appear stronger,
if we consider the operation and effect of such laws. When wages are
fixed by what is called a law, the legal wages remain stationary,
while every thing else is in progression; and as those who make that
law still continue to lay on new taxes by other laws, they increase
the expense of living by one law, and take away the means by another.
But if these gentlemen law-makers and tax-makers thought it right to
limit the poor pittance which personal labour can produce, and on
which a whole family is to be supported, they certainly must feel
themselves happily indulged in a limitation on their own part, of
not less than twelve thousand a-year, and that of property they
never acquired (nor probably any of their ancestors), and of which
they have made never acquire so ill a use.
Having now finished this subject, I shall bring the several
particulars into one view, and then proceed to other matters.
The first eight articles, mentioned earlier, are;
1. Abolition of two millions poor-rates.
2. Provision for two hundred and fifty-two thousand poor families,
at the rate of four pounds per head for each child under fourteen
years of age; which, with the addition of two hundred and fifty
thousand pounds, provides also education for one million and thirty
thousand children.
3. Annuity of six pounds (per annum) each for all poor persons,
decayed tradesmen, and others (supposed seventy thousand) of the age
of fifty years, and until sixty.
4. Annuity of ten pounds each for life for all poor persons, decayed
tradesmen, and others (supposed seventy thousand) of the age of
sixty years.
5. Donation of twenty shillings each for fifty thousand births.
6. Donation of twenty shillings each for twenty thousand marriages.
7. Allowance of twenty thousand pounds for the funeral expenses of
persons travelling for work, and dying at a distance from their
friends.
8. Employment at all times for the casual poor in the cities of
London and Westminster.
SECOND ENUMERATION
9. Abolition of the tax on houses and windows.
10. Allowance of three shillings per week for life to fifteen
thousand disbanded soldiers, and a proportionate allowance to the
officers of the disbanded corps.
11. Increase of pay to the remaining soldiers of L19,500 annually.
12. The same allowance to the disbanded navy, and the same
increase of pay, as to the army.
13. Abolition of the commutation tax.
14. Plan of a progressive tax, operating to extirpate the unjust and
unnatural law of primogeniture, and the vicious influence of the
aristocratical system.*[39]
There yet remains, as already stated, one million of surplus
taxes. Some part of this will be required for circumstances that do
not immediately present themselves, and such part as shall not be
wanted, will admit of a further reduction of taxes equal to that
amount.
Among the claims that justice requires to be made, the condition
of the inferior revenue-officers will merit attention. It is a
reproach to any government to waste such an immensity of revenue in
sinecures and nominal and unnecessary places and officers, and not
allow even a decent livelihood to those on whom the labour falls.
The salary of the inferior officers of the revenue has stood at the
petty pittance of less than fifty pounds a year for upwards of one
must be through the reduction of taxes for paying the interest. The
debt, therefore, is not reduced one farthing to the public by all
the millions that have been paid; and it would require more money
now to purchase up the capital, than when the scheme began.
Digressing for a moment at this point, to which I shall return
again, I look back to the appointment of Mr. Pitt, as minister.
I was then in America. The war was over; and though resentment had
ceased, memory was still alive.
When the news of the coalition arrived, though it was a matter of no
concern to I felt it as a man. It had something in it which shocked,
by publicly sporting with decency, if not with principle. It was
impudence in Lord North; it was a want of firmness in Mr. Fox.
Mr. Pitt was, at that time, what may be called a maiden character in
politics. So far from being hackneyed, he appeared not to be initiated
into the first mysteries of court intrigue. Everything was in his
favour. Resentment against the coalition served as friendship to
him, and his ignorance of vice was credited for virtue. With the
return of peace, commerce and prosperity would rise of itself; yet
even this increase was thrown to his account.
When he came to the helm, the storm was over, and he had nothing
to interrupt his course. It required even ingenuity to be wrong, and
he succeeded. A little time showed him the same sort of man as his
predecessors had been. Instead of profiting by those errors which
had accumulated a burthen of taxes unparalleled in the world, he
sought, I might almost say, he advertised for enemies, and provoked
means to increase taxation. Aiming at something, he knew not what,
he ransacked Europe and India for adventures, and abandoning the
fair pretensions he began with, he became the knight-errant of
modern times.
It is unpleasant to see character throw itself away. It is more so
to see one's-self deceived. Mr. Pitt had merited nothing, but he
promised much. He gave symptoms of a mind superior to the meanness and
corruption of courts. His apparent candour encouraged expectations;
and the public confidence, stunned, wearied, and confounded by a chaos
of parties, revived and attached itself to him. But mistaking, as he
has done, the disgust of the nation against the coalition, for merit
in himself, he has rushed into measures which a man less supported
would not have presumed to act.
All this seems to show that change of ministers amounts to
nothing. One goes out, another comes in, and still the same
measures, vices, and extravagance are pursued. It signifies not who is
minister. The defect lies in the system. The foundation and the
superstructure of the government is bad. Prop it as you please, it
continually sinks into court government, and ever will.
I return, as I promised, to the subject of the national debt, that
offspring of the Dutch-Anglo revolution, and its handmaid the
Hanover succession.
But it is now too late to enquire how it began. Those to whom it
is due have advanced the money; and whether it was well or ill
than they do now. What they would save by the extinction of the
poor-rates, and the tax on houses and windows, and the commutation
tax, would be considerably greater than what this tax, slow, but
certain in its operation, amounts to.
It appears to me to be prudence to look out for measures that may
apply under any circumstances that may approach. There is, at this
moment, a crisis in the affairs of Europe that requires it.
Preparation now is wisdom. If taxation be once let loose, it will be
difficult to re-instate it; neither would the relief be so
effectual, as if it proceeded by some certain and gradual reduction.
The fraud, hypocrisy, and imposition of governments, are now
beginning to be too well understood to promise them any long career.
The farce of monarchy and aristocracy, in all countries, is
following that of chivalry, and Mr. Burke is dressing aristocracy,
in all countries, is following that of chivalry, and Mr. Burke is
dressing for the funeral. Let it then pass quietly to the tomb of
all other follies, and the mourners be comforted.
The time is not very distant when England will laugh at itself for
sending to Holland, Hanover, Zell, or Brunswick for men, at the
expense of a million a year, who understood neither her laws, her
language, nor her interest, and whose capacities would scarcely have
fitted them for the office of a parish constable. If government
could be trusted to such hands, it must be some easy and simple
thing indeed, and materials fit for all the purposes may be found in
every town and village in England.
When it shall be said in any country in the world, my poor are
happy; neither ignorance nor distress is to be found among them; my
jails are empty of prisoners, my streets of beggars; the aged are
not in want, the taxes are not oppressive; the rational world is my
friend, because I am the friend of its happiness: when these things
can be said, then may that country boast its constitution and its
government.
Within the space of a few years we have seen two revolutions,
those of America and France. In the former, the contest was long,
and the conflict severe; in the latter, the nation acted with such a
consolidated impulse, that having no foreign enemy to contend with,
the revolution was complete in power the moment it appeared. From both
those instances it is evident, that the greatest forces that can be
brought into the field of revolutions, are reason and common interest.
Where these can have the opportunity of acting, opposition dies with
fear, or crumbles away by conviction. It is a great standing which
they have now universally obtained; and we may hereafter hope to see
revolutions, or changes in governments, produced with the same quiet
operation by which any measure, determinable by reason and discussion,
is accomplished.
When a nation changes its opinion and habits of thinking, it is no
longer to be governed as before; but it would not only be wrong, but
bad policy, to attempt by force what ought to be accomplished by
reason. Rebellion consists in forcibly opposing the general will of
Appendix
As the publication of this work has been delayed beyond the time
intended, I think it not improper, all circumstances considered, to
state the causes that have occasioned delay.
The reader will probably observe, that some parts in the plan
contained in this work for reducing the taxes, and certain parts in
Mr. Pitt's speech at the opening of the present session, Tuesday,
January 31, are so much alike as to induce a belief, that either the
author had taken the hint from Mr. Pitt, or Mr. Pitt from the author.-
I will first point out the parts that are similar, and then state such
circumstances as I am acquainted with, leaving the reader to make
his own conclusion.
Considering it as almost an unprecedented case, that taxes should be
proposed to be taken off, it is equally extraordinary that such a
measure should occur to two persons at the same time; and still more
so (considering the vast variety and multiplicity of taxes) that
they should hit on the same specific taxes. Mr. Pitt has mentioned, in
his speech, the tax on Carts and Wagons- that on Female Servants-
the lowering the tax on Candles and the taking off the tax of three
shillings on Houses having under seven windows.
Every one of those specific taxes are a part of the plan contained
in this work, and proposed also to be taken off. Mr. Pitt's plan, it
is true, goes no further than to a reduction of three hundred and
twenty thousand pounds; and the reduction proposed in this work, to
nearly six millions. I have made my calculations on only sixteen
millions and an half of revenue, still asserting that it was "very
nearly, if not quite, seventeen millions." Mr. Pitt states it at
16,690,000. I know enough of the matter to say, that he has not
overstated it. Having thus given the particulars, which correspond
in this work and his speech, I will state a chain of circumstances
that may lead to some explanation.
The first hint for lessening the taxes, and that as a consequence
flowing from the French revolution, is to be found in the ADDRESS
and DECLARATION of the Gentlemen who met at the Thatched-House Tavern,
August 20, 1791. Among many other particulars stated in that
Address, is the following, put as an interrogation to the government
opposers of the French Revolution. "Are they sorry that the pretence
for new oppressive taxes, and the occasion for continuing many old
taxes will be at an end?"
It is well known that the persons who chiefly frequent the
Thatched-House Tavern, are men of court connections, and so much did
they take this Address and Declaration respecting the French
Revolution, and the reduction of taxes in disgust, that the Landlord
was under the necessity of informing the Gentlemen, who composed the
meeting of the 20th of August, and who proposed holding another
meeting, that he could not receive them.*[41]
What was only hinted in the Address and Declaration respecting taxes
and principles of government, will be found reduced to a regular
system in this work. But as Mr. Pitt's speech contains some of the
same things respecting taxes, I now come to give the circumstances
before alluded to.
The case is: This work was intended to be published just before
the meeting of Parliament, and for that purpose a considerable part of
the copy was put into the printer's hands in September, and all the
remaining copy, which contains the part to which Mr. Pitt's speech
is similar, was given to him full six weeks before the meeting of
Parliament, and he was informed of the time at which it was to appear.
He had composed nearly the whole about a fortnight before the time
of Parliament meeting, and had given me a proof of the next sheet.
It was then in sufficient forwardness to be out at the time
proposed, as two other sheets were ready for striking off. I had
before told him, that if he thought he should be straitened for
time, I could get part of the work done at another press, which he
desired me not to do. In this manner the work stood on the Tuesday
fortnight preceding the meeting of Parliament, when all at once,
without any previous intimation, though I had been with him the
evening before, he sent me, by one of his workmen, all the remaining
AUTHORS NOTES
The Author's Notes
FOR PART ONE AND PART TWO
1. The main and uniform maxim of the judges is, the greater the
truth the greater the libel.
2. Since writing the above, two other places occur in Mr. Burke's
pamphlet in which the name of the Bastille is mentioned, but in the
same manner. In the one he introduces it in a sort of obscure
question, and asks: "Will any ministers who now serve such a king,
with but a decent appearance of respect, cordially obey the orders
of those whom but the other day, in his name, they had committed to
the Bastille?" In the other the taking it is mentioned as implying
criminality in the French guards, who assisted in demolishing it.
"They have not," says he, "forgot the taking the king's castles at
Paris." This is Mr. Burke, who pretends to write on constitutional
freedom.
3. I am warranted in asserting this, as I had it personally from
M. de la Fayette, with whom I lived in habits of friendship for
fourteen years.
4. An account of the expedition to Versailles may be seen in No.
13 of the Revolution de Paris containing the events from the 3rd to
the 10th of October, 1789.
5. It is a practice in some parts of the country, when two
travellers have but one horse, which, like the national purse, will
not carry double, that the one mounts and rides two or three miles
ahead, and then ties the horse to a gate and walks on. When the second
traveller arrives he takes the horse, rides on, and passes his
companion a mile or two, and ties again, and so on- Ride and tie.
neither would he believe it. How then he could distinctly see all
the parts, when the whole was out of sight, is beyond my
comprehension. And with respect to the "departure from the ancient
course," besides the natural weakness of the remark, it shows that
he is unacquainted with circumstances. The departure was necessary,
from the experience had upon it, that the ancient course was a bad
one. The States-General of 1614 were called at the commencement of the
civil war in the minority of Louis XIII.; but by the class of
arranging them by orders, they increased the confusion they were
called to compose. The author of L'Intrigue du Cabinet, (Intrigue of
the Cabinet), who wrote before any revolution was thought of in
France, speaking of the States-General of 1614, says, "They held the
public in suspense five months; and by the questions agitated therein,
and the heat with which they were put, it appears that the great
(les grands) thought more to satisfy their particular passions, than
to procure the goods of the nation; and the whole time passed away
in altercations, ceremonies and parade."- L'Intrigue du Cabinet,
vol. i. p. 329.
10. There is a single idea, which, if it strikes rightly upon the
mind, either in a legal or a religious sense, will prevent any man
or any body of men, or any government, from going wrong on the subject
of religion; which is, that before any human institutions of
government were known in the world, there existed, if I may so express
it, a compact between God and man, from the beginning of time: and
that as the relation and condition which man in his individual
person stands in towards his Maker cannot be changed by any human laws
or human authority, that religious devotion, which is a part of this
compact, cannot so much as be made a subject of human laws; and that
all laws must conform themselves to this prior existing compact, and
not assume to make the compact conform to the laws, which, besides
being human, are subsequent thereto. The first act of man, when he
looked around and saw himself a creature which he did not make, and
a world furnished for his reception, must have been devotion; and
devotion must ever continue sacred to every individual man, as it
appears, right to him; and governments do mischief by interfering.
11. See this work, Part I starting at line number 254.- N.B. Since
the taking of the Bastille, the occurrences have been published: but
the matters recorded in this narrative, are prior to that period;
and some of them, as may be easily seen, can be but very little known.
12. See "Estimate of the Comparative Strength of Great Britain,"
by G. Chalmers.
13. See "Administration of the Finances of France," vol. iii, by
M. Neckar.
14. "Administration of the Finances of France," vol. iii.
15. Whether the English commerce does not bring in money, or whether
the government sends it out after it is brought in, is a matter
which the parties concerned can best explain; but that the
deficiency exists, is not in the power of either to disprove. While
Dr. Price, Mr. Eden, (now Auckland), Mr. Chalmers, and others, were
about half are Dutch, the rest English, Scotch, and Irish. In
New-jersey, a mixture of English and Dutch, with some Scotch and
Irish. In Pennsylvania about one third are English, another Germans,
and the remainder Scotch and Irish, with some Swedes. The States to
the southward have a greater proportion of English than the middle
States, but in all of them there is a mixture; and besides those
enumerated, there are a considerable number of French, and some few of
all the European nations, lying on the coast. The most numerous
religious denomination are the Presbyterians; but no one sect is
established above another, and all men are equally citizens.
17. For a character of aristocracy, the reader is referred to Rights
of Man, Part I., starting at line number 1457.
18. The whole amount of the assessed taxes of France, for the
present year, is three hundred millions of francs, which is twelve
millions and a half sterling; and the incidental taxes are estimated
at three millions, making in the whole fifteen millions and a half;
which among twenty-four millions of people, is not quite thirteen
shillings per head. France has lessened her taxes since the
revolution, nearly nine millions sterling annually. Before the
revolution, the city of Paris paid a duty of upwards of thirty per
cent. on all articles brought into the city. This tax was collected at
the city gates. It was taken off on the first of last May, and the
gates taken down.
19. What was called the livre rouge, or the red book, in France, was
not exactly similar to the Court Calendar in England; but it
sufficiently showed how a great part of the taxes was lavished.
20. In England the improvements in agriculture, useful arts,
manufactures, and commerce, have been made in opposition to the genius
of its government, which is that of following precedents. It is from
the enterprise and industry of the individuals, and their numerous
associations, in which, tritely speaking, government is neither pillow
nor bolster, that these improvements have proceeded. No man thought
about government, or who was in, or who was out, when he was
planning or executing those things; and all he had to hope, with
respect to government, was, that it would let him alone. Three or four
very silly ministerial newspapers are continually offending against
the spirit of national improvement, by ascribing it to a minister.
They may with as much truth ascribe this book to a minister.
21. With respect to the two houses, of which the English
parliament is composed, they appear to be effectually influenced
into one, and, as a legislature, to have no temper of its own. The
minister, whoever he at any time may be, touches it as with an opium
wand, and it sleeps obedience.
But if we look at the distinct abilities of the two houses, the
difference will appear so great, as to show the inconsistency of
placing power where there can be no certainty of the judgment to use
it. Wretched as the state of representation is in England, it is
manhood compared with what is called the house of Lords; and so little
is this nick-named house regarded, that the people scarcely enquire at
otherwise got, charged six hundred thousand pounds for the expense
of the fleet that brought him from Holland. George the First acted the
same close-fisted part as William had done, and bought the Duchy of
Bremen with the money he got from England, two hundred and fifty
thousand pounds over and above his pay as king, and having thus
purchased it at the expense of England, added it to his Hanoverian
dominions for his own private profit. In fact, every nation that
does not govern itself is governed as a job. England has been the prey
of jobs ever since the Revolution.
33. Charles, like his predecessors and successors, finding that
war was the harvest of governments, engaged in a war with the Dutch,
the expense of which increased the annual expenditure to L1,800,000 as
stated under the date of 1666; but the peace establishment was but
L1,200,000.
34. Poor-rates began about the time of Henry VIII., when the taxes
began to increase, and they have increased as the taxes increased ever
since.
35. Reckoning the taxes by families, five to a family, each family
pays on an average L12 7s. 6d. per annum. To this sum are to be
added the poor-rates. Though all pay taxes in the articles they
consume, all do not pay poor-rates. About two millions are exempted-
some as not being house-keepers, others as not being able, and the
poor themselves who receive the relief. The average, therefore, of
poor-rates on the remaining number, is forty shillings for every
family of five persons, which make the whole average amount of taxes
and rates L14 17s. 6d. For six persons L17 17s. For seven persons
L2O 16s. 6d.
The average of taxes in America, under the new or representative
system of government, including the interest of the debt contracted in
the war, and taking the population at four millions of souls, which it
now amounts to, and it is daily increasing, is five shillings per
head, men, women, and children. The difference, therefore, between the
two governments is as under:
England America
L s. d. L s. d.
For a family of five persons 14 17 6 1 5 0
For a family of six persons 17 17 0 1 10 0
For a family of seven persons 20 16 6 1 15 0
36. Public schools do not answer the general purpose of the poor.
They are chiefly in corporation towns from which the country towns and
villages are excluded, or, if admitted, the distance occasions a great
loss of time. Education, to be useful to the poor, should be on the
spot, and the best method, I believe, to accomplish this is to
enable the parents to pay the expenses themselves. There are always
persons of both sexes to be found in every village, especially when
growing into years, capable of such an undertaking. Twenty children at
ten shillings each (and that not more than six months each year) would
be as much as some livings amount to in the remotest parts of England,
and there are often distressed clergymen's widows to whom such an