FROM CATO's LETTERS. ON FREEDOM OF SPEECH.

WITHOUT freedom of thought, there can be no ſuch thing as wiſdom; and no ſuch thing as public liberty, without freedom of ſpeech: which is the right of every man, as far as by it he does not hurt and controul the right of another; and this is the only check which it ought to ſuffer, the only bounds which it ought to know.

This ſacred privilege is ſo eſſential to free go⯑vernment, that the ſecurity of property and the freedom of ſpeech always go together; and in thoſe wretched countries where a man cannot call his tongue his own, he can ſcarce call any thing elſe his own. Whoever would overthow the liberty of the nation, muſt begin by ſubduing the liberty of ſpeech; a thing terrible to public traitors.

This ſecret was ſo well known to the court of King Charles the firſt, that his wicked miniſtry procured a proclamation to forbid the people to talk of parliaments, which thoſe traitors had laid aſide. To aſſert the undoubted right of the ſubject, and defend his majeſty's legal prerogative, was called diſaffection, and puniſhed as ſedition. Nay, people were forbid to talk of religion in their fa⯑milies: for the prieſts too had combined to cook up tyranny, and ſuppreſs truth and the law. While the late King James, when Duke of York, went avowedly to maſs, men were fined, impriſoned, and undone, for ſaying he was a papiſt: and that King Charles the ſecond might live more ſecurely a pa⯑piſt, there was an act of parliament made, declar⯑ing it treaſon to ſay that he was one.

That men ought to ſpeak well of their governors, is true, while their governors deſerve to be well ſpoken of; but to do public miſchief without hear⯑ing of it, is only the prerogative and felicity of [4]tyranny; a free people will be ſhewing they are [...]o, by their freedom of ſpeech.

The adminiſtration of government is nothing elſe but the attendance of the truſtees of the peo⯑ple, upon the intereſt and affairs of the people. And as it is the part and buſineſs of the people, for whoſe ſake alone all public matters are, or ought to be tranſacted, to ſee whether they be well or ill tranſacted; ſo it is the intereſt, and ought to be the ambition, of all honeſt magiſtrates, to have their deeds openly examined, and publicly ſcanned: only the wicked governors of men dread what is ſaid of them.

Freedom of ſpeech is the great bulwark of liber⯑ty; they proſper and die together: and it is the terror of traitors and oppreſſors, and a barrier againſt them. It produces excellent writers, and encourages men of fine genius. Tacitus tells us, that the Roman commonwealth bred great and nu⯑merous authors, who wrote with equal boldneſs and eloquence: but when it was enſlaved, thoſe great wits were no more. Tyranny had uſurped the place of equality, which is the ſoul of liberty, and deſtroyed public courage. The minds of men, terrified by unjuſt power, degenerated into all the vileneſs and methods of ſervitude: abject, ſyco⯑phancy and blind ſubmiſſion grew the only means of preferment, and indeed of ſafety; men durſt not open their mouths but to flatter.

Pliny the younger obſerves, that this dread of tyranny had ſuch effect, that the ſenate, the great Roman ſenate, became at laſt ſtupid and dumb. Hence, ſays he, our ſpirit and genius are ſtupified, broken and ſunk for ever. And in one of his epiſtles, ſpeaking of the works of his uncle, he makes an apology for eight of them, as not written with the ſame vigour which was to be found in the reſt; for that theſe eight were written in the reign of Nero, when the ſpirit of writing was cramped with fear.

[5]I have long thought that the world are very much miſtaken in their idea and diſtinction of li⯑bels. It has been hitherto generally underſtood that there are no other libels but thoſe againſt magiſ⯑trates, and thoſe againſt private men: now to me there ſeems to be a third ſort of libels, full as de⯑ſtructive as any of the former can poſſibly be, I mean libels againſt the people. It was otherwiſe at Athens and Rome; where, though, particular men, and even great men, were often treated with much freedom and ſeverity, when they deſerved it; yet the people, the body of the people, were ſpoken of with the utmoſt regard and reverence; the ſacred privileges of the people, the inviolable majeſty of the people, and the unappealable judg⯑ment of the people, were phraſes common in thoſe wiſe, great, and free cities. Other modes of ſpeech are ſince grown faſhionable, and popular madneſs is now almoſt proverbial; but this madneſs of theirs, whenever it happens, is derived from external cauſes. Oppreſſion, they ſay, will make a wiſe man mad; and deluſion has not leſs force; but where there are neither oppreſſion nor impoſters, the judgment of the people in the buſineſs of pro⯑perty, the preſervation of which is the principal buſineſs of government, does rarely err. Perhaps they are deſtitute of grimace, myſtery, reſerve, and other accompliſhments of courtiers; but as theſe are only maſks to conceal the abſence of honeſty and ſenſe, the people, who poſſeſs as they do th [...] ſubſtance, have reaſon to deſpiſe ſuch inſipid and contemptible ſhadows.

Machiavel, in the chapter where he proves that a multitude is wiſer and more conſtant than a prince, complains, that the credid which the peo⯑ple ſhould be in declines daily: For, ſays he, every man has liberty to ſpeak what he pleaſes againſt them, but againſt a prince no man can talk without a thouſand apprehenſions and dangers. I have in⯑deed [6]often wondered, that the inveighing againſt the intereſt of the people, and calling their liber⯑ties in queſtion, as has been, and is commonly done amongſt us by old knaves and young fools, has never been made an expreſs crime.

I muſt own, I know not what treaſon is, if ſap⯑ping and betraying the liberties of a people be not treaſon, in the eternal and original nature of things. Let it be remembered for whoſe ſake government is, or could be appointed; then let it be conſider⯑ed who are more to be regarded, the governors, or the governed; they indeed owe one another mu⯑tual duties; but if there be any tranſgreſſions com⯑mitted, the ſide that is moſt obliged, ought doubt⯑leſs to bear the moſt: and yet it is ſo far otherwiſe, that almoſt all over the earth, the people, for one injury that they do their governors, receive ten thouſand from them: any, in ſome countries, it is made death and damnation, not to bear all the oppreſſions and cruelties which men, made wanton by power, inflict upon thoſe that gave it them.

The truth is; If the people are ſuffered to keep their own, it is the moſt th [...]t they deſire: but even that is a happineſs which in few places falls to their lot; they are frequently robbed by thoſe whom they pay to protect them. I know that it is a ge⯑neral charge againſt the people. that they are tur⯑bulent, reſtleſs, fickle, and unruly; than which there can be nothing more untrue, for they are only ſo, where they are made ſo. As to their being fickle, it is ſo falſe, that, on the contrary, they have almoſt ever a ſtrong bent to received cuſtoms, and as ſtrong a partiality to names and families that they have been uſed to: and as to their being turbulent, it is as falſe; ſince there is ſcarce and ex⯑ample in an hundred years of any people's giving governors any uneaſineſs, till their governors had made them uneaſy: nay, for the moſt part, they bear many evils without returning one, and ſeldom throw off their burdens ſo long as they can ſtand under them.

SOME CAUSES OF ENGLISH MISERY.

NOTWITHSTANDING the improvements, the capital is become an overgrown monſter; which, like a dropſical head, will in time leave the body and extremities without nouriſhment and ſup⯑port, The abſurdity will appear in it full force; when we conſider, that one ſixth part of the natives of this whole extenſive kingdom, is crowded with⯑in the bills of mortality.

What wonder that our villages are depopulated and our farms in want of day labours: The aboli⯑tion of ſmall farms, is but one cauſe of the decreaſe [11]of population. Indeed, the incredible increaſe of horſes and black cattle, to anſwer the purpoſes of luxury, requires a prodegious quantity of hay and graſs, which are raiſed and managed without much labour; but a number of hands will always be want⯑ed for the different branches of agriculter, whe⯑ther the farms be large or ſmall. The tide of lux⯑ury has ſwept all the inhabitants from the open country—the pooreſt ſquire, as well as the richeſt peer, muſt have his houſe in town, and make a figure with an extraordinary number of domeſtics. The plough boys', cow herds, and lower kinds, are debauched and ſeduced by the appearance and diſcourſe of thoſe coxcombs in livery, when they make their ſummer excurtions, they deſert their dirt and drudgery, and ſwarm up to London, in hopes of getting into ſervice, where they can live luxuriouſly, and wear fine cloaths, without being obliged to work; for idleneſs is natural to man.— Great numbers of thoſe being diſappointed in their expectation, become thieves and ſharpers.

ON THE EXECUTION OF LOUIS CAPAT. From a Pamphlet entitled. "Peace and Union."

LOUIS CAPET has afforded an excellent to⯑pick for parliamentary declamation. Let us ſtrip the ſubject of figures of rhetorick, and no Engliſhman need be alarmed at the execution of and individual at Paris. Louis Capet was once King of France, and entitled to the honours of that exalted ſtation. The ſupreme power of the nation declared that France ſhould be a Republic; from that moment Louis Capet loſt his titles. He was accuſed of enormous crimes, confined as a ſtate priſoner, tried by the National Convention, found guilty, condemned, and executed. What [12]is there wonderful in all this? Our revolution, the boaſt of the preſent days, purſued the ſame con⯑duct as nearly as poſſible. Our Convention de⯑clared, that James the Second ſhould be no longer king; it did not chuſe to aboliſh kingſhip, but dignified William the Third with regal honours. James was ſtripped of his titles, and became plain James Stuart, and the rebublican William became a ſovereign. James was not tried, condemned, and executed, becauſe he ſaved his life by flight: but the laws againſt himſelf and his ſon, and the proceedings in the years fifteen and forty-five, muſt convince the moſt ſuperficial reaſoner, that the maxims of the Engliſh and French nations, with reſpect to the dethroning of kings, are ex⯑actly the ſame. But ſome one will ſay, Louis Capet was unjuſtly condemned. Ninety-nine out of a hundred, who make this objection, have not given themſelves the trouble of examining the records of the trial; and why ſhould I give greater credit to the remaining objector than to the ver⯑dict of the court? If Louis Capet did when king encourage the invaſion of his country, however, we may be inclined to pity the unfortunate man, for the error of his conduct, we have no right to proclaim him innocent in pomt of law. It is, in ſhort, no buſineſs of ours; and if all the crowned heads in the continent are taken off, it is no buſi⯑neſs of ours. We ſhould be unworthy of the conſtitution ſettled at the revolution, and enemies to the Brunſwick families now ſeated on our throne, if we denied to any nation the right of ſettling, as it pleaſed, its own internal government. Theſe ſentiments do not prevent us from com⯑miſerating the ſituation of the French refugees. They are entitled to our compaſſion; and it is but right that we ſhould attend to their diſtreſſes, ſince foreign countries have been put to the ex⯑pence of maintaining thoſe refugees from our own [13]iſland, who, for their attachment to an ancient fa⯑mily, were, by the rigour of the two foreign reigns, ſubjected to all the penalties exacted from recuſant by the preſent government in France.

ON POLITICAL SUPERSTITION.
[From Barlow's Advice to the Privileged Orders.]

THERE is another conſideration from which we may argue the total extinction of wars, as a neceſſary conſequence of eſtabliſhing governments on the repreſentative wiſdom of the people. We are all ſenſible that ſuperſtition is a blemiſh of hu⯑man nature, by no means confined to ſubjects con⯑nected with religion. Political ſuperſtition is al⯑moſt as ſtrong as religious; and it is quite as uni⯑verſally uſed as an inſtrument of tyranny. To enumerate the variety of ways in which this in⯑ſtrument operates on the mind, would be more difficult than to form a general idea of the reſult of its operations. In monarchies it induces men to ſpill their blood for a particular family, or for a particu⯑lar branch of that family who happens to have been born firſt, or laſt; or to have been taught to repeat a certain creed, in preference to other creeds. But the effect which I am going chiefly to notice, is that which reſpects the territorial boundaries of a government. For a man in Portugal of Spain to prefer belonging to one of thoſe nations rather than the other, is as much ſuperſtition, as to prefer the houſe of Braganza to that of Bourbon, or Mary the ſecond of England to her brother. All theſe ſubjects of preference ſtand upon the ſame footing as the turban and the hat, the croſs and the creſcent, or, the lily and the roſe.

The boundaries of nations have been fixed for the accommodation of the government, without the leaſt regard to the convenience of the people. Kings [14]and miniſters, who make a profitable trade of go⯑verning, are intereſted in extending the limits of their dominion as far as poſſible. They have a property in the people, and in the territory that they cover. The country and its inhabitants are to them a farm ſtocked with ſheep. When they call up theſe ſheep to be ſheared, they teach them to know their names, to follow their maſter, and avoid a ſtranger. By this unaccountable impoſition it is, that men are led from one extravagant folly to another,—to adore their king, to boaſt of their nation, and to wiſh for conqueſt,—circumſtances equally ridiculous in themſelves, and equally in⯑comp [...]table with that rational eſtimation of things, which ariſes from the ſcience of liberty.

The Effects of War on the Poor.
(From Mr. Frend's Pamphlet entitled, "Peace and Union.")

THREE days after the debate on the king's meſ⯑ſage, I was walking from my friend's houſe to the neighbouring town, to inſpect the printing of theſe few ſheets, and in my way joined company with two men of the village, who, being employed by the Wool-ſtaplers to let out ſpinning to the poor, had lately received orders to lower the value of labour. We were talking on this ſubject, when the exclamations of a groupe of poor women going to market, overhearing our converſation, made an impreſſion on my mind which all the eloquence of the Houſes of Lords and Commons cannot efface.— We are to be ſconced three pence in the ſhilling; let others work for me, I'll not. We are to be ſconced a fourth part of our labour. What is all this for? I did not dare to tell them what it was for, nor to add inſult to miſery. What is the be⯑heading of a monarch to them? What is the navi⯑gation of the Scheldt to them? What is the free⯑dom of a great nation to them, but reaſon for joy? Yet the debating only on theſe ſubjects has reached their cottages. They are already ſconced three-pence in the ſhilling. What muſt be their fate, when we ſuffer under the moſt odious ſcourge of the human race, and the accumulation of taxes takes away half of that daily bread which is ſcarce ſuffi⯑cient at preſent for their ſupport?

Oh! that I had the warning voice of an ancient Prophet, that I might penetrate into the inmoſt re⯑ceſſes [16]of palaces, and appal the harranguers of ſe⯑nates. I would uſe no other language than that of the poor market-women. I would cry aloud in the ears of the firſt magiſtrate: We are ſconced three-pence in the ſhilling, the fourth part of our labour, for what? I would addreſs myſelf to the deliberat⯑ing bodies: We are ſconced three pence in the ſhilling, the fourth part of our labour, for what? Is there a man that could ſtand out againſt this elo⯑quence? Yes. Thouſands. Three-pence in the ſhilling for ſpinning conveys no ideas to them. They know not what a cottage is, they know not how the poor live, how they make up their ſcanty meal. Perhaps there may be ſome one in our Houſe of Commons, whoſe feelings are in union with mine; communicate them to your colleagues, im⯑preſs them with the horror attendant on their deli⯑berations; tell them what the deduction of three-pence in the ſhilling occaſions among the myriads of England, And ſhould any grave courtier, pity⯑ing the diſtreſſes of the poor, be anxious to relieve them, ſay to him, There is an eaſy method: let the firſt magiſtrate, the peers, the repreſentatives of the people, the rich men of the nation, all who are for war, be ſconced one fourth part of their an⯑nual income to defray the expence of it. Let them be the firſt ſufferers, let the burden fall on them not on the poor. Alas! my poor countrymen how many years calamity awaits you, before a ſingle diſh or a glaſs of wine will be withdrawn from the ta⯑bles of opulence!

At this moment, perhaps the decree is gone forth for war. Let others talk of glory, let others celebrate the heroes, who are to deluge the world with blood—the words of the poor market-women will ſtill reſound in my ears—We are ſconced three-pence in the ſhilling, one fourth of our labour. For what!!!

ON THE EXCELLENCY OF A FREE GO⯑VERNMENT, AND ITS TENDENCY TO EXALT THE NATURE OF MAN.

EVERY Member of a Free State, having his pro⯑perty ſecure, and knowing himſelf his own go⯑vernor, poſſeſſes a conſciouſneſs of dignity in himſelf, and feels incitements to emulation and improvement, to which the miſerable ſlaves of arbitrary power muſt be utter ſtrangers. In ſuch a ſtate all the ſprings of action have room to operate, and the mind is ſtimu⯑lated to the nobleſt exertions. But to be obliged, from our birth, to look up to a creature no better than ourſelves, as the maſter of our fortunes; and to [32]receive his will as our law—What can be more hu⯑miliating? What elevated ideas can enter a mind in ſuch a ſituation?—Agreeably to this remark, the ſubjects of free ſtates have, in all ages, been moſt di⯑ſtinguiſhed for genius and knowledge. Liberty is the ſoil where the arts and ſciences have flouriſhed; and the more free a ſtate has been, the more have the powers of the human mind been drawn forth into action; and the greater number of BRAVE men has it produced. With what luſtre do the ancient free ſtates of Greece ſhine in the annals of the world? How different is that country now, under the Great Turk? The difference between a country inhabited by men, and by brutes, is not greater.

Theſe are reflections which ſhould be conſtantly preſent to every mind in this country. As moral liberty is the prime bleſſing of man in his private ca⯑pacity, ſo is civil liberty in his public capacity. There is nothing that requires more to be w [...]hed than power. There is nothing that ought to be oppoſed with a more determined reſolution than its [...]roach⯑ments. Sleep in a ſtate, as Monteſquien ſays, is always followed by ſlavery.

The people of this kingdom were once warmed by ſuch ſentiments as theſe. Many a ſycophant of power have they ſacrificed. Often have they fought and bled in the cauſe of Liberty. But that time ſeems to be going. The fair inheritance of liberty left us by our anceſtors many of us are not unwilling to reſign. An unbounded venality, the inſeparable companion of diſſipation and extravagance, has poi⯑ſoned the ſprings of public virtue among us: and ſhould any events ever ariſe that ſhould render the ſame oppoſition neceſſary that took place in the times of King Charles the Firſt, and James the Second, I am afraid all that is valuable to us would be loſt.— The terror of the ſtanding army, the danger of the pub⯑lic funds, and the all-corrupting influence of the treaſury, would deaden all zeal, and produce general acquieſcence and ſervility.

ON THE RESPONSIBILITY OF KINGS.
From THE CANDID PHILOSOPHER.

I ONCE thought that in point of morals the ac⯑tions of all men, however diſtinguiſhed in rank, ſtood on the ſame footing, and were entitled to the ſame praiſe or cenſure. I thought that the morality of a monarch and of a private man, as preſcribed by the ſame divine authority, were exactly the ſame. But I find the world thinks otherwiſe. The world thinks, that what is fit and juſt in a ſubject is not ſo in a king; that a king is not bound by thoſe narrow rules that were only intended to bind the vulgar herd; and that a king may commit actions which, though highly criminal in a ſubject, are not ſo in him. Owing to theſe opinions, a political and prac⯑tical ſyſtem has been drawn by acute ſtateſmen, and metaphyſical lawyers; in which, among other equally judicious principles, they lay it down as a rule, that though in the caſe of a ſubject the maſter is anſwer⯑able for the ill conduct of his ſervants, yet in the caſe of a ſovereign, he is not reſponſible for the errors and miſconduct of his miniſters▪ So far from it, they are accountable for his miſconduct and errors, if ſuch [37]he could commit, for they ſay he cannot. They ſay he is not a FREE AGENT, but a more machine. and as ſuch can do no wrong [therefore can do no right] the reaſon of this they tell us is, that the king is always ſuppoſed to be adviſed by his miniſters, and, there⯑fore, to imagine he was capable of doing injuſtice, or was to be made reſponſible for his actions, would be to deſtroy his independence. This is paying the king but a very ſcorbutic compliment. To repreſent him as a machine, and the mouth-piece of his miniſters, is treat⯑ing him as an idiot, or a puppet moved by wires. And with reſpect to the independency they want to aſcribe to the king, I inſiſt on it they rob him of it entirely, ac⯑cording to their ſyſtem; and render him the moſt ab⯑ject, pitiful dependent creature imaginable, dependent on the nod, the wink, the command of his ſervants. They make him a very child in leading ſtrings, unfit to walk himſelf, but to be led blind-fold wherever his tutors ſhall be pleaſed to drag him. Whether this is the caſe in reality with any king now living, I pre⯑ſume not to ſay; but it has been the caſe of multitudes, whom HISTORY has damned to everlaſting infamy in her fair and impartial page. If in a point of this delicate nature I may dare to hazard an opinion, I would ſay, that I think a king (I mean of Utopia not of England) ought to be perſonally reſponſible for his miſconduct, as much as a private man is for his: that a king ought to be reſponſible for his miſconduct in chooſing igno⯑rant or wicked miniſters: That though a king takes the advice of others, yet, as advice does not bind his conduct, he is as much accountable for it as the pri⯑vate malefactor would be in taking and purſuing the ill advice of his comrades to rob or murder.

FROM THE SAME. ROMAN PATRIOTISM FOUNDED ON INJUSTICE, AND THE RUIN OF MANKIND.

THE patriotiſm of ancient Rome has been much extolled by modern writers, but I think unjuſtly. Her patriotiſm was founded on the moſt flagrant in⯑juſtice and iniquity, and therefore deſerved not ſo much to be called patriotiſm, as a deſire to render Rome the miſtreſs of the univerſe.

For this purpoſe ſhe ſcrupled not committing all manner of tyrannous and wicked acts againſt the li⯑berties of mankind. Her feveriſh fondneſs for uni⯑verſal empire laid deſolate all the known world. The poſſeſſions, the habitations, the paintings, the ſculp⯑tures, all the riches of the Romans, were the ſpoils of plundered nations. Thus they erected to them⯑ſelves an empire as unwieldy as it was unjuſt, on the ruins of their fellow creatures. What then are all their beautiful lectures and pompous declamations on the love of their country? What their laboured ora⯑tions in praiſe of LIBERTY? Indiſputable proofs indeed of their eloquence; but not of their humanity. If the language of benevolence were to conſtitute the character, we muſt allow it is due to theſe Romans; but if actions are to afertain the right, and to be con⯑ſidered as the criterion of juſtice, we ſhall find it a dif⯑ficult matter to make good their claim, though we were maſters of eloquence equal to their own.

A MODEST PLEA FOR AN EQUAL COMMONWEALTH, AGAINST MONARCHY.
Publiſhed in the Year 1659.

THOUGH I was never poſſeſt with a [...] evil ſpirit of oppoſition, or genius of contrad [...]g and ſnarling at what is preſent; but rather ſtudied at leaſt a paſſive, if not an active compliance with the preſent power; as knowing there was never any power, whoſe commiſſion was not paſſed, if not un⯑der the broad ſeal of Heaven's approbation, yet at leaſt by the privy-ſeal of God's permiſſive providence; which I have always taken as a ſufficient warrant for paying the tribute of paſſive obedience, whereſoever I received the benefit of reciprocal protection: Yet I cann [...] but acknowledge ſome governments more pure, refined, and leſs prone to corruption, than others; and certainly, thoſe wherein the ſupreme magiſtrate (whether one or more) hath an intereſt [45]diſtinct from that of the people, muſt be moſt apt to degenerate, and have greateſt propenſity to tyranny and oppreſſion. Now whether monarchy, that winds up all the ſtrings in the inſtrument of government to the intereſt of a ſingle perſon; that tunes laws, religion, and all things, to an harmony and compliance with the monarch's ſingle will, may not juſtly be ſuſpected of this ſtrain, I leave at the bar of any conſiderate man's judgment to be decided.

Certainly, whatever gloſs or varniſh the courtſhip or flatteries of princes or their paraſites may ſet upon it, ſuch a government is diametrically oppoſite to, and inconſiſtent with, the true liberty and happineſs of any people.

I remember to have read a pretty ſtrange paſſage of one of the French kings, that he was the moſt religious prince, and greateſt tyrant that ever wore the crown of France. I was (I confeſs) ſome time ſtartled at the ſtrangeneſs of the character; but our late experience of one, might wear the ſame livery, makes me able not only to digeſt the wonder, but alſo to give credence to this general aphoriſm, that whatever may be the qualifications of any prince in reference to the perſonal endowments of his mind, the title of good was never juſtly attributed to any king, in reference to his office, except comparatively: And therefore, in my apprehenſion, elective king⯑doms have ſmall advantage of hereditary, by reaſon the unhappineſs of ſuch governments ſeems not ſo much to ſpring from the nature of the perſon admi⯑niſtering, as of the office and dignity, which ever lays an iron yoke of ſlavery and oppreſſion on the peoples' necks: So that, conſidering the vaſt expence of blood and treaſure with which the competition of the office and dignity is uſually managed by the ſcarlet candidates of crowns and ſceptres, an here⯑ditary monarchy may ſeem eligible, as the leſſer evil; eſpecially, if by ſome fundamental conſtitution, like the Salique law of France, the abſurd (though not [46]unuſual) pretenſions of women and children might be cut off: For to hang the keys of the power civil and eccleſiaſtic upon apron ſtrings, and to put the ſceptre into a hand ſitter to were a diſtaff, is to invert the order both of God and nature, and to ſet a nation with its heels upwards. And yet I know it is the opinion of ſome, that women and children are fitteſt to make princes, as being of a more paſſive ſpirit; and therefore likelieſt to ſteer by the ad [...]ice of wiſe council: by reaſon they repoſe leſs ſtreſs and con⯑fidence in their own prudence than men; in autho⯑rity of which, the happy and proſperous reign of Queen Elizabeth is uſually alledg'd; but whether without wrong to the more than maſculine vigour of her ſpirit, and matchleſs quickneſs of parts, whereby ſhe was, to a wonder, qualified for government, and reported rather to out-ſtrip than come ſhort of the more noble ſex, I leave others to judge. But ſhould we grant this aſſertion to have the countenance of reaſon, and that experience had alſo ſet to it its ſeal of confirmation; it is ſo far from being of any ad⯑vantage to monarchy, by warding off the blow uſually given by ſuch as ſkirmiſh againſt it, with their rea⯑ſons ſharpened with theſe inconveniences, that it gives the deepeſt wound to its reputation that could be deſired, by aſſerting oligarchy, which by the ge⯑neral conſent of all times and ages, hath been ex⯑ploded as one of the worſt of tyrannies, to be the beſt of monarchies.

I have met with ſome, that plead much for the ſingle perſon that ſhould be only the name, without the thing; the office, without the power; the ſha⯑dow or image, without the ſubſtance; as if it were impoſſible for men, that are the maſters and proprie⯑tors of reaſon, to be knit together into civil ſociety and peace for their own common intereſt and ſafety, without erecting either ſome gaudy thing to humour them, or ſome ſcare-crow to fright them into obedi⯑ence; Nor do I know whoſe convenience would be [47]herein conſulted, except the lawyers, who (if like pack-horſes trained up in one road) not able to change their accuſtomed pace or ſtile, it be prudence for the nation to hazard a relapſe into tyranny, and again expoſe their lives and liberties to the will and luſt of an arbitrary power, to ſet up a John of Oke, or Will of Stile, with infinite expence of blood and treaſure, by reimpoſing the yoke ſo lately caſt off, that this pack, &c. may not alter the ſtile and form of their writs, &c. I ſay wherefore the nation ſhould be ſo over-indulgent to a corrupt intereſt of men, rather than to regulate and reform the forms of law, that, through the ſubtility of this generation, are be⯑come rather ſnares than fences of our eſ [...]ates and properties, falls not within the precincts of my ap⯑prehenſion.

Should we now unbowel and trace to its original this name, for which there have of late appeared ſo many advocates, I preſume it would be found of as ill complexion as the word Tyrant was accounted among the Greeks; the Engliſh word king, being but the abbreviate of cunning, the uſual epithet (as all men know) of knaves; and to ſpeak truth, expe⯑rience hath made good, though never ſo great a ſaint hath ſate upon the throne, the devil and a biſhop have ever ſtept into the office: For I am not of that fond opinion, that kings are not capable in their pri⯑vate capacities of like virtues and qualifications with other men; but that, notwithſtanding their accom⯑pliſhments, how excellent, how bright, how orient ſoever are their perſonal virtues, they ſtand on ſlip⯑pery places, and their dignities, their intereſts, their paraſites, their flatterers, are ſnares too great for them to retain their integrity, and therefore that the ta⯑lent of ſovereign power is too great, too precious to be intruſted or depoſited, in one man's hand, though an angel, left ſo great a temptation ſhould endanger his fall, and make him apoſtate to a devil.

That kings are God's ſcourges, and given in wrath, [48]we have the teſtimony of ſcripture. Nimrod was a great hunter, a mighty man, a great oppreſſor, and the firſt king or prince we read of; the firſt that invaded the liberty of the world, that uſurped firſt authority, and preſumed to exerciſe dominion over his brethren; the firſt that put a period to that golden age, wherein no other than paternal government was known; but though thus nigh the morning of time, God ſent his ſcourge Nimrod as a juſt plague amongſt the other nations of the earth; yet the people of God, the ſeed of Abraham, the children of Iſrael, were a long while after free, a free ſtate, and enjoyed their native liberties till the time of Samuel, when they rebelled, and deſired a king like the other nations, that they might be like the heathen whom God had caſt out before them; which God conſtrued no other than apoſtacy, and rejecting of him, than rebellion and high treaſon againſt his own divine majeſty; and ſaid, They have rejected me: And then tells them what would be the iſſue, fruit, and product thereof.

They ſhould give away their liberty, and be ſub⯑jected to an arbitrary power, and become the ſlaves and vaſſals of their king, who ſhould take their ſons and their daughters to make them his ſervants, and ſend them forth to fight his battles; that is, to be the inſtruments of his pride and luxury, and the cham⯑pions of his malice and ambition.

And then he ſhould deſtroy their property, and take away their houſes, and their vineyards, and give them to his ſervants. Thus the ſpirit of God gives the ſame deſcription of a King as of what we call a Tyrant, a Nero, a Monſter, as if they were all one, and it were eſſential to the nature of the office or dignity to be a beaſt of prey, a l [...]viathan, an oppreſſor and de⯑vourer of the people; which character hath been too eaſy to be read in the lives of moſt of the beſt kings, whoſe names are not taken off the file of memory.

Now as for thoſe that would have a mock, a counterfeit, a limited king, a king and no king, an [49]empty title, a bare name, vox & preterea nihil, or I know not what: they propoſe a remedy worſe than the diſeaſe; for to divide the ſovereignty, is to ſay a ſeene of blood, to ſow the ſeed of a perpetual civil war, and intail ruin on ourſelves and poſterity: What is divided cannot ſtand; there will ſpring up perpetual jealouſies, fears and animoſities, which will cauſe intrenchings on each others authority, until the one have ſupplanted and overturned the other, this is to inſtitute a civil war, anarchy and confuſion, inſtead of a well ordered commonwealth or politic.

Having thus unmaſked the true nature of mo⯑narchy, which is no other than the mere gentle or civil expreſſion of tyranny, I ſhall endeavour to ob⯑viate ſome of the moſt plauſible and ſtrenuous argu⯑ments, by whoſe ſtrength and ſubtility it is endea⯑voured to be obtruded, and our aſſents conciliated to the reception thereof.

One of the grand arguments whereby the betrayers of our liberty endeavour to decoy us into the iron yoke, we have ſo lately ſhaken of, is taken from our long uſe and cuſtom to draw therein, which hath rendered ſlavery a ſecond nature to us, and therefore endeavour to ſcare us from our liberty as a novel and dangerous thing; as if ſervitude were more natural to a nation than freedom, or any cuſtom could utterly expunge nature: I am ſure the former cannot reflect with the greater diſgrace, or more derogate from the honour of our nation, that we ſhould be of ſo coarſe a metal, ſo baſe an alloy, of ſo ſpaniel-like couchant, ſlaviſh, and degenerate a ſpirit, than the other doth deviate from truth; but the worthy advocates of this cauſe, meaſure truth by the wicked ſtandard of their baſe and corrupt deſigns, as they take altitude of all other mens ſpirits, though never ſo brave and eleva⯑ted by the Jacob's ſtaff of their own pitiful crouch⯑ing, fawning humour.

It would waſte more ink and paper than I am either willing, or have leiſure to beſtow, ſhould I ſhew how much the ſtate of our nation is altered, and into how [50]great an unſuitableneſs we are of late travelled unto that government, this argument would plead precrip⯑tion for.

But of what weight or trurh is it of, will eaſily appear to any that have taken notice of that, paſſage of our modern hiſtory of the laſt century, which c [...]erns the gallant hero Sir Philip Sidney; who though born in that moſt unlucky juncture of time for prod [...]cing brave ſpirits, when the nation tr [...]led under the go⯑vernment of a woman, was yet thought word [...]y of the Poliſh crown, and had an overture in order to his election thereto, had not his jealous miſtreſs prevent⯑ed; if, then, one born, under the inf [...]ences of a female government, and not of the higheſt rank of nobility, was thought ſi [...]to ſway a ſcepter, of how great blaſphemy againſt the honour of our nation, may they be thought guilty, who ſay, the [...]r [...]-born people of England, after they have [...]roke the more ancient Norman yoke, and the more modern of a lat⯑ter, &c. are not [...] to enjoy that liberty, that hath been the price of ſo much blood and treaſure: But ſhould we concede all the argument ſeem [...] to beg, that our necks are uſed to the yoke, and we are be⯑come familiar to ſervitude; ſhall [...]e the [...]fore will⯑ingly ſuffer our ears to be bored to the poſts of our new maſters, and become ſlave [...] for ever? Shall we court our bonds, and glory in that which is our ſhame? Shall we never learn to be free, and value liberty? Shall we never emancipate ourſelves and poſterity, but intail thraldom and ſ [...] cry on them alſo, to all generations? For ſo long as we draw in this yoke, our condition is the [...] with ſlaves; whatſoever is born unto us is a veſ [...]l of our Lords; the fruit of our loins muſt drink of the ſame cup with us, draw in the ſame yoke, groan under the ſame tyranny and oppreſſion we bequeath unto them: nay, who knows but their bondage may [...]n [...]reaſe, li [...]e that of Iſrael's under the ſon or Solomon, whoſe little finger was heavier than his father's l [...]ins; for tyran⯑nies uſually exaſperate and wax worſe with continu⯑ance: [51]ſhall we now bequeath our children liberty or bonds, freedom or oppreſſion? If we, who have had our necks worn with the yoke, and our backs bowed down with heavy burdens, are of a couchant ſlaviſh ſpirit, perhaps our poſterity, if born in a freer air, and under the influences of a more benign govern⯑ment, may prove of more generous and noble ſpirits, worthy of, and knowing how to prize their liberty. But without doubt, thoſe brave and gallant ſouls, by the conduct of whoſe valour and prudence we have broken the iron yoke of arbitrary and exorbitant power; and by the good providence of God, redeemed the captivity of our nation, from the unrighteous bonds of its wicked oppreſſors, are worthy of, and know how to prize and improve what hath been pur⯑chaſed with ſo much [...]eat and oil, and will not in the end ſell their birth-right for a meſs of pottage, but leave an offspring, heirs of their own valour and gal⯑lantry, that will, with the utmoſt peril of their lives and fortunes, deſend and preſerve what the labours of their anceſtors hath purchaſed, with ſore travel both of mind and body, and ſo tranſmit it intire to their poſterity, through msny generations, till the conſummation of all things, and that time ſhall be no more.

But for a farther and more fatisfactory anſwer, to ſilence this argument, we may conſider how the ſcene is changed, and balance of lands altered ſince theſe laſt centuries; and by reaſon thereof, with how great difficulty monarchy hath made good its ground ſince Henry the Eighth's days, in which it firſt began moſt viſible to decline, and hath ever ſince been poſt⯑ing to its period.

For that wilful prince, by alienating the church revenues, quite altered the balance of lands that was the baſis of his government, and thereby did that ſervice unawares, that pulled up the ſtake of monar⯑chy: for the church (which with all its preferments, was at the king's devotion and ſole diſpoſe) did at that time poſſeſs a third part of the lands and wealth [52]of the whole nation: which being afterwards ſold, and coming into the hands of private men, ſet up many thouſands of families that had no dependence on the crown. Since which time, the number of freeholders being much encreaſed, the nation hath had a natural and ſtrong vergency towards a com⯑monwealth; which hath been much diſcovered in the ſpirit and complexion of our parliaments, of which the houſe of commons (heretofore an inconſiderable truckling kind of court, that was only ſummoned for the Prince to milk their purſes, and let the peo⯑ple blood in the ſilver vein) grew now more peremp⯑tory, and began to give check to their princes exor⯑bitances; inſomuch, that Queen Elizabeth was put to her courtſhip to retain them in allegiance; as after⯑wards King James, to a thouſand ſhifts and juggles: who, notwithſtanding all his King-craft and cunning, in which he ſo much gloried, and boaſted himſelf ſo great a maſter, was ſcarce able, with much juggling and diſſimulation, to divert the ſtorm from falling on his own head, which afterward rained ſo much blood and vengeance on his ſon and poſterity, to the utter ruin and confuſion of his family.

To conclude therefore this particular, it being a maxim of truth, placed beyond all hazard of contra⯑diction, that no government can be fixed in this nation, but according to the balance of land. That Prince that is not able, neither by his own nor the public revenue, in ſome meaſure to counterpoiſe, if not over balance the greater part of the people, muſt neceſſarily be tenant at will for the crown he wears: for they that are the proprietors of the land and wealth of any nation, will with eaſe be able, by that magnetiſm, to draw the greateſt number of abettors to their ſide, and ſo to gild over their pretenſions, as to render them current with the people, and ſo in the end, give law to the reſt of their brethren: Therefore, where there is one proprietor or landlord, as in Turkey, there is abſolute monarchy; where a few, ariſtocracy, &c.

Now, ſince the crown lands, and church lands of [53]this nation are ſold, what other prop or pillar of ſecuri⯑ty is left for the throne of a prince to reſt upon, ex⯑cept that of a mercenary army, lies not within view of my apprehenſions; and then how wholeſome or ſafe advice the re-eſtabliſhing of monarchy is to this nation, I leave all men (that have not altogether ab⯑jured their reaſon and conſcience, to judge and deter⯑mine.

As for thoſe poetical, if not prophane flouriſhes, wherewith orators and poets, the conſtant paraſites of princes, uſe to gild over monarchy, pretending it the moſt natural and rational of all other forms of government, and that whoſe pattern was firſt ſhown in the mount, or rather let down from heaven, para⯑le [...]ling it with God's regimen of the univerſe, which is alledged as its prototype firſt exemplar; and there⯑fore to have ſomething more of a divine right and character impreſſed upon it than any other, &c.

Theſe, I ſay, are ſuch trite, bald, and ſlight rea⯑ſonings, that they do not merit ſo much reſpect as to receive an anſwer; for may we not as well by this looſe and alluſive way of arguing, borrow a pattern from heaven for the triumvirate, that Auguſtus, Le⯑pidus, and Mare Antony ſometime impoſed on Rome.

Doth it not as well quadrate with the ſacred Trinity, by the triple ſceptred of whoſe divine providence the empire of the world is adminiſtered, as by their's ſometime that of the Romans? Will any one therefore be ſo bold as to ſay, that it was the moſt natural and rational government, and founded by no leſs than a di⯑vine right, according to its pattern and archetype in the heavens! notwithſtanding the brand of the blackeſt and bloodieſt tyranny Rome ever ſaw hath been ſet thereon, by the univerſal conſent of all hiſtorians.

Or may we not, conſidering the pride, ambition, rapine, extortion, injury and oppreſſion, that uſually crowd into the courts of the beſt princes, with as much or more reaſon parallel abſolute monarchy, with that of the prince of darkneſs, in which there is no Tri⯑nity, as in the other; and therefore more exactly [54]quadrate to the abſoluteneſs our proud monarchs ſo much endeavour to obtain?

I confeſs, could we have a prince to whom majeſty might be atributed, without prophane hyperboles, that was a true vicar or lieutenant of God, that was not ſubject to the paſſions and infirmities, much leſs the vices and monſtroſities of human nature, that could neither be impoſed on by deceit, nor abuſed by flattery, whom the paſſions neither of fear nor affection, could warp to the leaſt declivity, from what is right and honeſt; whoſe reaſon could never be biaſſed by any private intereſt or baſe reſpect, to decline the paths of juſtice and equity, but would manage the reins of his power with a like conſtan⯑cy and ſteadineſs, as by the hand of Providence the helm of the univerſe is ſteered: I ſhould then become an advocate of monarchy, and acknowledge it to have the impreſs of divinity, and bear the character and inſcription of God upon it, to be the beſt and moſt abſolute form of government, and a true copy of its divine original: but till ſecurity be given for ſuch a righteous adminiſtration, I deſire to be excuſed from being a pander to ambition, or the advocate of ty⯑ranny, as having learnt, It is not good for man to be alone, eſpecially on the high and ſlippery places, where the ſtrongeſt heads are apt to wax giddy; but, in the multitude of counſellors there is ſafety: and methinks, the very dialect of princes in the plural number (what⯑ever of ſtate or majeſty may be pretended) is a witneſs of, and doth clearly ſpeak the unnaturalneſs of ſuch exorbitant monopolies of power, and that though they act in a ſingle capacity, are willing to ſpeak like a commonwealth.

Moſt of the other arguments, of which the advo⯑cates of tyranny make uſe, are drawn from the pre⯑tended advantages of that government, above and be⯑yond others in reſpect of ſecrecy, celerity, unanimity, and the like, which though conveniencies, yet being far too light to counterpoiſe and balance the other in commodities, together with the great charge and ex⯑ciſe [55]they are rated at, require no other anſwer, nor ſhall I waſte more time and ink upon them.

Having thus paſſed the pikes of the ſharpeſt argu⯑ments, that are uſually raiſed in defence of the odd thing called a ſingle perſon, I ſhall only ſpeak a word or two to that is founded on the ſingle command, that in times of war and eminent danger, when the gates of Janus's temple are ſet open, is committed to one man, it being a received maxim, that reaſon hath always conceded an advantage to the abſolute juriſdiction of a ſingle perſon in the field, preſcribing to that end but one general to an army, for fear of diviſions upon contrary counſels and commands.

To which may be replied, notwithſtanding ge⯑nerals are not taken upon truſt, as kings in ſucceſſive monarchies, but upon the teſt of experience, and proved ſufficiency manifeſted in former ſervices; yet if it ſeem expedient to the commonwealth, there may be a rotation in that office as well as others, as was anci⯑ently in the Roman republic, whoſe armies were led forth by their annual ſucceſſive conſuls, and that with great ſucceſs and victory.

But the expedient our preſent parliament hath found out by commiſſion, doth ſo fully anſwer this objection that I need ſay no more unto it; for without doubt, it is the intereſt of a free ſtate to have all the people ſo trained up in military diſcipline, and made fami⯑liar with arms, that he may not be thought arrived at the juſt accompliſhments of a gentleman, that is not able to lead an army in the field, it being among the Romans no abſurd apoſtrophe to leave the plough⯑tail, to head an army, or, vice verſa, when their military employments were accompliſhed: how much then may they be thought to fall ſhort of the accompliſhments of a gentleman, that know not how to manage the conduct of a troop of horſe, as I fear, too many of our gentry, upon a due ſcrutiny would be found; who, notwithſtanding all their great pre⯑tences to be accounted armigeri, or eſquires, are ſcarce ſtout enough to diſcharge a piſtol, or were [56]ever militant beyond the borders of their ladies carpets.

I ſhall now ſound a retreat to the further progreſs of my pen on this theme, leſt I ſhould ſeem too much to triumph over a baffled and proſtrate enemy, it being my deſire to uſe victory with like modera⯑tion, I deſire to bear a foil, conqueſt or captivity: therefore, fince by the good providence of God, together with the gallant conduct of the no leſs pru⯑dent than valiant aſſertors of our native rights and liberties, we are re-inſtated in the poſſeſſion of our birth-rights, I ſhall attempt the diſcovery of thoſe rocks and ſhelves, on which in the late night of apoſ⯑tacy we ſplit our liberties, and endanger the utter ruin and ſhipwreck of our lives and fortunes, in the dangerous ſea of an exorbitant and unlimited power; and thereby ſtrike ſome ſparks of light for the future better ſteering of the commonwealth, in whoſe bot⯑tom, as all our lives and felicities are adventured, we are all concerned to endeavour its being brought into a ſafe port and harbour.

The work then of our preſent pilots, that ſit at the ſtern, and manage the conduct of our affairs, is, to endeavour the commonwealth may be ſo equally ba⯑lanced, as it may neither have propenſity to a ſecond relapſe into monarchy, as of late; or oligarchy, which is worſe: nor yet into anarchy, the worſt of all three: But to ſettle a free-ſtate upon ſuch juſt and righteous foundations as cannot be moved, that may be a ſtrong rampire of defence, not only to our civil liberties, as men, from the future enchroachment of tyranny, or inundation of exorbitant power; but alſo of ſecurity to our ſpiritual liberties, as Chriſtians, from the invaſion of thoſe that deſire to domineer and lord it over the conſciences of their brethren: both which ſeem ſo linked and twiſted to each other, that what conduces to the ſecurity of one, hath no ſmail tendency to the eſtabliſhing of the other alſo, and do commonly ſo inſeparable accompany each other, that whereſoever there is a free-ſtate, or equal [57]commonwealth, liberty of conſcience is inviolably preſerved, together with convenient and inoffenſive latitude in toleration of religions, as in Holland, Venice, &c.

Now, for the better ſecuring of theſe, we are to take notice of what perſons or things are moſt incon⯑ſiſtent with, and have greateſt enmity to, the intereſt of a free-ſtate or equal commonwealth.

For diſcovery of which, as I know it a crime of preſumption unpardonable, for one ſeated in the vale of a private condition, to pretend a fairer proſpect into the intereſt of ſtate, than thoſe Providence hath placed in the watch-towers, and on the pinnacles of power; yet by reaſon a by-ſtander may be allowed to diſcern ſomething of the game; and he that is out of play, to ſhew the ground to a bowler; and one that ſtands below may better know what props the foundation reſts upon, than he that is on the top of the tower: and it being the duty of every one to caſt in his mite to the vaſter treaſures of their know⯑ledge, to whom Providence hath committed the conduct of our affairs, I am bold, being partly thereto encouraged by that great candour where⯑with I obſerve the like tribute of zealous and faithful hearts are already received, to tender what in my apprehenſion may have a tendency to a future ſettlement and ſecurity. I confeſs, were we at this time bowed down under the govern⯑ment of a monarch, in whoſe court every coun⯑ſellor of ſtate is to be taken on an implicit faith to enjoy by his prince's patent and favour, a monopoly of reaſon as well as honour; and that his underſtand⯑ing is no leſs elevated than according to the propor⯑tion his titles and fortunes ſwell above the tide of other mens: I might juſtly be accounted abſurd to offer any thing of this nature, as knowing with what ſcorn and contempt ſo raſh an adventure would be encountered.

But in a free ſtate, where the greateſt ſenators are not aſhamed to confer with the meaneſt perſons, I am [58]not afraid to put myſelf into the crowd of thoſe that make addreſſes of this nature: wherefore, to conclude this parentheſis, and reſume the thread of our diſ⯑courſe, there are nor, as I preſume, paſt two or three ſorts of perſons, whoſe intereſts run counter to, or, indeed are not twiſted and wound up in the ſame bot⯑ton with that of a free ſtate, or at leaſt in the ſpin⯑ning out of a few years, might not be interwoven therewith; and thoſe are, the Lawyer, the Divine, and Hereditary Nobility; as for the Cavalier and Courtier, I queſtion not but a little time would breathe out their antipathy, and warp their affections to a perfect compliance, and cloſing with an equal commonwealth.

Diſcontent productive of Human Happineſs and the Elevation of the Species.
From Young's Spirit of Athens.

WHY are we tenacious of liberty, but becauſe it gives an open field to that exertion of our minds or bodies, whence alone pleaſure can proceed? —whether they are employed in tracking a wild beaſt, or in exploring a ſyſtem, it is the ſame plea⯑ſure; and reſtriction to the man who hath once taſted it, is ſurely worſe than death.

The diſcontented ſpirit of mankind, ſo often and ſo much deprecated by every trifler in metaphyſics, is then found to be conſiſtent with their happineſs, and neceſſary to their improvement. Divinely is it thus inſtituted, that the activity of our faculties ſhould conſtitute our happineſs, whilſt what bleſſes the indi⯑vidual, enriches the ſpecies; and the purſuit which gives pleaſure to each, tends to ſome acquiſition pro⯑ductive of further diſtinctions to humanity, and eli⯑vating it more and more, in the ſyſtem in which it makes a part.

Every Man is born with an impreſcriptible Claim to a Portion of the Elements.
From Barlow's Advice to the Privileged Orders.

IT is a truth, I believe, not to be called in queſtion, that every man is born with an impreſcriptible claim to a portion of the elements, which portion is termed his birth-right. Society may vary this right, as to its form, but never can deſtroy it in ſub⯑ſtance. She has no controul over the man till he is born; and the right being born with him, and being neceſſary to his exiſtence, ſhe can no more annihilate the one than the other, though ſhe has the power of new-modelling both. But on coming into the world, he finds that the ground which nature had promiſed him is taken up, and in the occupancy of others; ſociety has changed the form of his birth-right; the general ſtock of elements, from which the lives of men are to be ſupported, has undergone a new modi⯑fication; and his portion among the reſt. He is told, that he cannot claim it in its preſent form, as an in⯑dependent inheritance; that he muſt draw on the ſtock of ſociety, inſtead of the ſtock of nature; that he is baniſhed from the mother and muſt cleave to the nurſe. In this unexpected occurrence he is un⯑prepared to act; but knowledge is a part of the ſtock of ſociety: and an indiſpenſible part to be allotted to the portion of the claimant, is inſtruction relative to the new arrangement of natural right. To with⯑hold this inſtruction, therefore, would be not merely the omiſſion of a duty, but the commiſſion of a crime; and ſociety in this caſe would ſin againſt the man, before the man could ſin againſt ſociety.

I ſhould hope to meet the aſſent of all unprejudiced readers, in carrying this idea ſtill further. In caſes where a perſon is born of poor parents, or finds himſelf brought into the community of men, without the means of ſub⯑ſiſtence, ſociety is bound in duty to furniſh him with the means. She ought not only to inſtruct him in the arti⯑ficial laws by which property is ſecured, but in the arti⯑ficial induſtry by which it is obtained. She is bound in [61] juſtice as well as policy, to give him ſome art or trade. For the reaſon of his incapacity is, that ſhe has uſurped his birth-right; and this reſtoring it to him in another form, more convenient to both parties. The failure of ſociety in this branch of her duty, is the occaſion of much the greater part of the evils that call for criminal juriſprudence. The indi⯑vidual feels that he is robbed of his natural right; he cannot bring his proceſs to reclaim it from the great community by which he is overpowered; he there⯑fore feels authorized in repriſal; in taking another's goods to replace his own. And it muſt be confeſſed, that in numberleſs inſtances the conduct of ſociety juſtifies him in this proceeding, ſhe has ſeized his pro⯑perty and commenced the war againſt him.

Some, who perceive theſe truths, ſay that it is unſafe for ſociety to publiſh them; but I ſay it is unſafe not to publiſh them. For the party from which the miſchief is expected to ariſe, has the knowledge of them already, and has acted upon them in all ages. It is the wiſe who are ignorant of theſe things, and not the fooliſh. They are truths of na⯑ture; and in them the teachers of mankind are the only party that remains to be taught: It is a ſubject on which the logic of indigence is much clearer than that of opulence. The latter reaſons from contri⯑vance, the former from feeling; and God has not endowed us with falſe feelings, in things that ſo weightily concern our happineſs.

None can deny that the obligation is much ſtronger on me to ſupport my life, than to ſupport the claim that my neighbour has to his property. Nature commands the firſt, ſociety the ſecond:—In one I obey the laws of God, which are univerſal and eter⯑nal; in the other the laws of man, which are local and temporary.

It has been the folly of old governments to begin every thing at the wrong end, and to erect their in⯑ſtitutions on an inverſion of principle. This is more [62]ſadly the caſe in their ſyſtems of juriſprudence, than is commonly imagined. Compelling juſtice is always miſtaken for rendering juſtice. But this important branch of adminiſtration conſiſts not merely in com⯑pelling men to be juſt to each other, and individuals to ſociety,—this is not the whole, nor is it the prin⯑cipal part, nor even the beginning, of the operation. The ſource of power is ſaid to be the ſource of juſtice; but it does not anſwer this deſcription, as long as it contents itſelf with compulſion. Juſtice muſt begin by flowing from its ſource; and the firſt, as well as the moſt important object is, to open its channels from ſociety to all the individual members. This part of the adminiſtration being well deviſed and diligently executed, the other parts would leſſen away by de⯑grees to matters of inferior conſideration.

It is an undoubted truth, that our duty is inſepa⯑rably connected with our happineſs; and why ſhould we deſpair of convincing every member of ſociety of a truth ſo important for him to know? Should any perſon object, by ſaying, that nothing like this has ever been tried. Society has hitherto been curſt with governments whoſe exiſtence depended on the ex⯑tinction of truth. Every moral light has been ſmo⯑thered under the buſhel of perpetual impoſition; from whence it emits but faint and glimmering rays, al⯑ways inſufficient to form any luminous ſyſtem on any of the civil concerns of men. But theſe covers are crumbling to the duſt, with the governments which they ſupport; and the probability becomes more ap⯑parent, the more it is conſidered, that ſociety is capable of curing all the evils to which it has given birth.

HOW TO CONSTITUTE A FREE GOVERN⯑MENT.
From CATO'S LETTERS.

THE only Secret in forming a Free Government, is to make the intereſts of the Governors and of the Governed the ſame, as far as human policy can contrive. Liberty cannot be preſerved any other way. Men have long found, from the weakneſs and depravity of themſelves and one another, that moſt men will act for intereſt againſt duty, as often as they dare. So that to engage them to their duty, intereſt muſt be linked to the obſervance of it, and danger to the breach of it. Perſonal advantages and ſecurity, muſt be the rewards of duty and obedience; and diſ⯑grace, torture, and death, the puniſhment of treach⯑ery and corruption.

Human wiſdom has yet found out but one certain expedient to effect this; and that is, to have the con⯑cerns of all directed by all, as far as poſſibly can be: and where the perſons intereſted are too numerous, or live too diſtant to meet together on all emergencies, they muſt moderate neceſſity by prudence, and act by deputies whoſe intereſt is the ſame with their own, and whoſe property is ſo intermingled with theirs, and ſo engaged upon the ſame bottom, that princi⯑pals and deputies muſt ſtand and fall together. When the deputies thus act for their own intereſt, by acting for the intereſt of their principals; when they can make no law but what they themſelves, and their poſterity, muſt be ſubject to; when they can give no money, but what they muſt pay their ſhare of; when they can do no miſchief, but what muſt fall upon their own heads in common with their countrymen; their principals may then expect good laws, little miſchief, and much frugality.

Here therefore lies the great point of neceſſity and care in forming the conſtitution, that the perſons en⯑truſted [64]and repreſenting, ſhall either never have an intereſt detached from the perſons entruſting and re⯑preſented, or never the means to purſue it. Now to compaſs this great point effectually, no other way is left but one of theſe two, or rather both, namely, to make the deputies ſo numerous, that there may be no poſſibility of corrupting the majority; or, by changing them ſo often, that there is no ſufficient time to corrupt them, and to carry the ends of that corruption. The people may be very ſure, that the major part of their deputies being honeſt will keep the reſt ſo; and that they will all be honeſt, when they have no temptations to be knaves.

The glorious Proſpect of better Times, which are faſt approaching.
From The Critic Philoſopher.

THE Gothic pride of abſurd prejudices, cemented by the ignorance and weakneſs of our fore⯑fathers, muſt fall to the ground; and on its ruin muſt be raiſed the immortal temple of reaſon, of liberty, of juſtice! At the ſight of this glorious fabric, deſ⯑potiſm will ſhudder, tyranny ſhall be ſtruck dumb; irritated pride muſt murmur; unmaſked avidity ſhall be confounded; and philoſophy, ſmiling at her great work, will ſecretly applaud herſelf for the trophy thus erected to her honour. The RIGHTS OF MAN, engraved by nature upon his heart, in indelible cha⯑racters, reſtored to their original perfection: that primitive equality on which all were formed, muſt [65]take place of artificial inequality effected by ſelf-created nobility, be placed on a proper footing, and change its nature, objects, and pretenſions; the cler⯑gy muſt be reformed and brought back to that ſim⯑ple, evangelical modeſty, that moſt beautiful orna⯑ment, which a proud and worldy ſpirit has long diſ⯑figured.

The rich muſt be convinced, that while they live ſumptuouſly, and while the POOR are fed with a few of the ſcanty crumbs which fall from their table, they act quite contrary to the tenor of that goſpel, which they ſay they believe. It is not in nature or reaſon, that one man ſhould deſtroy twenty thouſand a year, and another ſh [...]uld be left without the common ne⯑ceſſaries of life: —No, every creature which nature hath formed with a mouth and digeſtive powers, has an equal right to participate of her bleſſings.

To conclude, we truſt that the glorious fabric of freedom, reared up, as it were, by the hand of Oni⯑potence, will ſoon appear. A fabric that will ſtand fir [...] and un [...]haken, as being fenced round with bar⯑riers, which will mock the dark deſigns of treachery, and bid defiance to the impotent efforts of deſpo⯑tiſm and corruption.

Mr. Burke's tyrannical ſyſtem of politics, and confined ideas of liberty, publiſhed in his late pamph⯑let, muſt fall to the ground; and every ſcheme, or plan, made uſe of to oppreſs the human race, muſt be deſtroyed. Wealth and property muſt be wreſted from the hands of rapacity and indolence, and di⯑vided amongſt mankind at large, in proportion as they merit it. Then will thoſe of uſeful invigorated induſtry ſhine as uſeful members of the community. 'Tis true, nations like individuals ſeem ſubject to in⯑fatuation, and while they are under its influence, they ſubmit to treatment which would ſhock them, if they were in their proper ſenſes. Men can aſſign no other reaſon for bearing oppreſſion, than that they bore it before.—The world is grown old in error, I grant, but it ſhould not on that account preclude re⯑form. [66]Notwithſtanding its great age, ſociety is hardly yet got beyond its firſt elements! Legiſla⯑tors have hitherto only drawn lines or boundaries to confine mankind, inſtead of tracing plans to make them happy. In all their general inſtitutions, they ſeem to have been ignorant that man is a being formed for love and friendſhip: they have rather conſidered him as in a ſtate of perpetual warfare with his fellow-creatures. Hence it is, that the ſyſtems of all governments, and the ſpirit of their laws, have been directed rather to ſeparate than to unite the different members of ſociety; by granting peculiar privileges to ſome; by reſtraining others; by render⯑ing the meltitude paſſive, and giving activity and power only to a few; by occaſioning ſuperabundance in palaces, and famine in the peaſant's cot; by coun⯑teracting, in ſhort, the deſigns of God and nature, in the impartial diffuſion of their bleſſings.

Laws, founded upon ſuch unnatural principles, have kept the whole machine of ſociety in a ſtate of perpetual diſcord and diſtraction. They have hinder⯑ed the rich from becoming humane, by giving a ſanction to their inſolent luxuries. They have rob⯑bed the poor of every right, even of permiſſion to utter their complaints: they have chained down ge⯑nius; clipped the wings of thought; and chilled, with freezing preſſure the warm ſallies of ſenſibility: —By treating man as a ferocious animal, thoſe laws have made him ſo in reality. They made him jea⯑lous of his fellow-creatures: they erected a wall of prejudice and diviſion between one people and ano⯑ther: their voice, like that of demons; crying out to the inhabitants of every country, be guarded againſt ſtrangers and foreigners, and look upon them as your natural enemies.—By theſe means, a ſort of conſtant hoſtility has been kept up in the univerſe, man being at war with man, nation with nation, and empire with empire!

We have a book, which we call our guide to eter⯑nal happineſs; it teacheth us, that all the human [67]race deſcended from one man, and that we are all brethren; yet we are, by our own laws, daily en⯑acting a ſpecific diſtinction, and giving one part of us a ſtatute authority to commit rapine and plunder the other. We believe that a divine prophet came down, exerted himſelf, and died for the redemption of all nations from miſery and puniſhment; and while we ſacrifice to him for this unparalelled love, we overwhelm one another with the very evils, which he, by his examples and ſufferings, taught us to avoid.

THE ADVANTAGES OF FREEDOM OF SPEECH.
From THE CANDID PHILOSOPHER.

EVERY one will allow, that freedom of thought ought not, and cannot be reſtrained, however freedom of ſpeech may be ſo. The judge obſerved very juſtly to a ſatirical author, that the law forbade him to call him rogue. "I know it, my lord," re⯑plied as juſtly the arch wag; "but the law does not forbid my thinking your lordſhip one."

Since, then, freedom of thought cannot be taken from a man, and is confeſſedly uſeful, let us briefly conſider the advantages of Freedom of Speech.

And here a moſt excellent author occurs to me, and I ſhall give his ſentiments on the ſubject, as nearly as I can remember, they being perfectly agreeable to my own:—

The paſſions are not to be extinguiſhed but with life: To forbid, therefore, people to ſpeak, is to for⯑bid them to feel.—The more men expreſs of their hate and reſentment, perhaps the leſs they retain; and ſometimes they vent the whole that way; but theſe paſſions, where they are ſmothered, will be apt to feſter, to grow venomous, and to diſcharge them⯑ſelves [68]by a more dangerous organ than the mouth; even by an armed and vindictive hard. Leſs danger⯑ous is a railing mouth than an heart filled with bit⯑terneſs and curſes; and more terrible to a prince ought to be the ſecret execrations of his people than their open revilings, or than even the aſſaults of his enemies. In truth, where no liberty is allowed to ſpeak of governors, beſides that of praiſing them, their praiſes will be little regarded. Their tender⯑neſs and averſion to have their conduct examined will be [...] to prompt people to think their conduct guilty or [...]; to ſuſpect their management and deſigns to be worſe tha [...] perhaps they are; and to become turbulent and ſeditious, rather than be forced to be ſilent,

ON THE MINISTRY OR CLERGY: BY THE AUTHOR OF A PLEA FOR A COM⯑MONWEALTH.

IT being the method of Heaven, for judgment to begin at the houſe of God. I ſhall firſt ſpeak to the reformation of the public miniſtry or national cler⯑gy, ſo far as they ſeem prompted by their intereſt to run counter to that of a commonwealth; and though I know (notwithſtanding the complexion of their coat, which ſeems, or at leaſt ought to pro⯑miſe greater moderation) it is no leſs dangerous to meddle, or in the leaſt exaſperate this generation of men, than to puddle in a hornets neſt, or en⯑counter a bear robbed of her whelps: yet my con⯑ſcience bearing me witneſs, I have neither malice to their perſons, nor envy their preferments: I ſhall not forbear to give in my teſtimony againſt the cor⯑rupt intereſt and principles wherewith they are leavened: where by the way, I muſt profeſs myſelf unſatisfied of what ground or foundation may (ſince the Jewiſh prieſthood was aboliſhed) be found in ſcripture, for that diſtinction between the laity and clergy, which cuſtom hath introduced into moſt Chriſtian commonwealths: my zeal and cha⯑rity being apt to prompt me to a like wiſh with that of Moſes, That all the Lords people were prophets: or rather, to think all the Lord's people are holy, and to be accounted a royal prieſthood to God, Nor can I perſuade myſelf learning is ſo neceſſary a qualifi⯑cation for teaching the goſpel, as ſome would make us believe, having obſerved our Saviour altogether rejected the wiſdom of man, and made not uſe [...] the learned ſcribes, or doctors of the law, but ſim⯑ple and illiterate fiſhermen, to be the firſt heralds of peace unto the world, to proclaim goodwill to the children of men, to be the firſt evangeliſts, and meſſengers of the glad tidings of ſalvation: and in⯑deed [75]the introduction of learned rabbies into the church of Chriſt, and blending divinity with the learning of the gentiles, ſeems to run counter to the whole deſign of the goſpel, which is by the fooliſhneſs of preaching, to confound the wiſdom of the world. Certainly the ſword of God's ſpirit will be able to do its work, though not managed by the ſkil⯑ful hand of an artiſt, or maſter of fence, that hath been brought up in the polemicks and digladiations of human literature, vain philoſophy, or ſophiſtry of the ſchools,

Nor do I find that the apoſtles, and thoſe ſent forth by Chriſt, to be the Catholic Biſhops of the whole earth, and to teach all nations, did aſſume unto themſelves any diſtinction of garb, colour, or habits, from the [...]eſt of Chriſt's flock; and I have read of ſome that were cenſured in the primitive times, or firſt centuries, for wearing large black cloaks; for what is this but to bring back thoſe jewiſh types and ſhadows, to cloud and obſcure the brightneſs of the Goſpel's diſpenſation, that were long ſince diſpelled and abrogated by the riſing of the Sun of righteouſneſs upon the world? For as one who hath lately well obſerved, What is the canonical girdle, and formality of doctors wearing boots, but as types and alluſions to thoſe places, of having their loins, girt, and their feet ſhod with the preparation of the goſpel, &c?

Nor do I read that they who were called to the miniſtry, did look upon that as a writ of caſe, or ſufficient warrant to quit their other particular callings, trades, and vocations; but that Paul wrought with his hands, that he might not become burdenſome; and it is generally preſumed our Sa⯑viour wrought at his father's trade; not that I would not have thoſe that miniſter in ſpiritual things, reap of other's carnal; but that it ſeems more ac⯑cording to the rule and preſident of the goſpel, that they ſhould be content with what voluntary con⯑tribution, [76]God ſhall move the people's hearts unto, than by force and rigour of law exact a maintenance.

And when I find the apoſtle ſaluting the church in Caeſar's family, I am prompted to wiſh, that all our houſes were chapels unto the Lord, and that our families (like that of Caeſar's) contained a church within them. I am ſure it is no new ob⯑ſervation, that the greateſt heat and zeal of religion hath been always found in conventicles and private meetings; which ſuggeſts unto my thoughts, no ſmall ground of ſuſpicion, that our parochial churches, bells, together with the whole order, pomp, method, and formality of our national cler⯑gy, and public worſhip, ſtands upon no other foundation than that of human invention, which by the ſtream of corrupt times, have been carried beyond the pattern and preſident of the primitive ages, and become very unlike and diſſonant to the examplar Chriſt and his apoſtles left us.

Nor am I ſatisfied, if the generality of men are uncapable of receiving the truth and power of godlineſs, whether the endeavours of giving all men a tincture of religion, and forcing them into the garb and livery of an outward profeſſion, which is the great deſign of, and plea for a national clergy be more acceptable unto God than morality. I know under the law, God had a peculiar people, that were picked and culled (as it were) from the droſs and rubbiſh of the reſt of mankind, that were to be built up in an outward profeſſion, and nati⯑onal way of public worſhip, adorned with many ceremonies, together with much pomp, and out⯑ward ſplendour, but whether religion be not now under the goſpel, a more inward, refined, ſpiritual and leſs viſible thing. I humbly ſubmit to ſerious conſideration. And if I am herein miſtaken (for I pretend not to infallibility) I ſhould be thankful to any, God ſhall be pleaſed to make uſe of as in⯑ſtruments to better inform me; for I would wil⯑lingly ſee and know my errors.

[77]But if it be here objected, that the primitive times were times of perſecution, in which the church was (as it were) under hatches, and chriſ⯑tianity in its infancy, and the profeſſors thereof forced to hide themſelves in holes of the rocks, and caves of the earth; but now, having gained ground upon the world, and being in better plight, and ſince it is come up out of Egypt from the houſe of bondage, from under the preſſures, perſecutions, afflictions, and burdens of the heatheniſh taſk-maſ⯑ters, under which it formerly groaned, ought ac⯑cording to the example of the Iſraelites, be adorn⯑ed with the ſpoils of the heathen, &c.

I anſwer, that as the kingdom of God comes not with obſervation, ſo it conſiſts not in any outward pomp and ſplendour. Its ſaid, the king's daughter (or ſpouſe of Chriſt) is all glorious within; and by how much the more ground chriſtianity hath gain⯑ed upon the world, by ſo much the leſs need doth it now ſtand of the wiſdom and learning of men to commend and propagate it, than when it was to encounter with ſo great oppoſition, and ſuch po⯑tent antagoniſts, as under the heathen emperors it met withal. And if the truth did then under all thoſe diſadvantages not only make good its ground but ſo much gained upon the world, when it had few other champions than poor fiſhermen, and illiterate mechanics, how much leſs need it now fear brow-beating, when the power of God hath ſubdued ſo many nations to the knowledge and obedience of his truth, and hath made princes of the earth bow unto the ſcepter of his Son?

Whether the nation is yet willing to part with their calves they have ſo long worſhipped, I know not, but I am ſure it hath pleaſed God to give them a great diſcovery of the corruption, pride, ambition and flattery of this ſort of men; how willing they could be to reap their own profit, though ſown in, and ſpringing from the ruin of the nation's liberty [78]and felicity; how willingly they could ſell their brethren ſlaves into the hands of tyranny and op⯑preſſion, to purchaſe to themſelves dominion and lordſhip.

THE DESIRE OF GLORY NATURALLY GENERATED IN REPUBLICS.
FROM THE PERSIAN LETTERS

THE ſanctuary of honour, reputation, and vir⯑tue; ſeems to be placed in republics, and in thoſe ſtates where a man may with ſafety pro⯑nounce the word, country. At Rome, Athens, and Sparta, honour was the only reward for the moſt ſignal ſervices. A crown of oak-leaves, or laurel, a ſtatue, an inſcription, was an immence return for a battle won, or a city taken.

There, a man that had performed a noble action, thought himſelf ſufficiently recompenced in the action itſelf. He could not ſee one of his coun⯑trymen, without feeling the inward ſatisfaction of knowing himſelf his benefactor; he reckoned the [...]ber of his ſervices by that of his fellow citi⯑zens. Any man is capable of doing a piece of ſervice to another man; but it is ſomewhat divine to contribute to the happineſs of a whole ſociety.

The manly Spirit produced in France, by their new Syſtem of Equality.
From Dr. Moore's Journal.

IT was natural to think that the introduction of the term egalite would, produce an univerſal inſo⯑lence among the lower claſſes of people in France, towards their ſuperiors: but I confeſs I have not [79]hitherto remarked any diſagreeable inſtances of this nature. No perſon, indeed, of whatever rank, is allowed to dreſs his footmen in livery, but every one is allowed to have as many footmen as he pleaſes; and when L. L—'s carriage was driving, a day or two ſince, in at the gates of the Louvre, it was ſtopped by the centinel, who had obſerved that the hammer-cloth had fringes of a different colour; and informed his lordſhip, that ſuch a kind of diſtinction was no where permitted in France▪ being contrary to that egalite, which every Frenchman had ſworn to. The coachman had been ordered never to uſe any but a plain cloth: but having a fringed one in his poſſeſſion, of which he was very vain, he had ven⯑tured to adorn his coach-box with it, on this un⯑fortunate day. As the poor fellow was taking it off with a very mortified air, the valet de-place re⯑proached him for having put it on; which the ſen⯑tinel over hearing, ſaid angrily to the coachman, ‘ll ſied bien à un gueux comone toi d'etre ariſ⯑tocrate.’ (It well becomes a beggar like you to give yourſelf the airs of an ariſtocrate.)

A few days ſince, I ſaw a man dreſſed in the uniform of a general officer▪ come up to a poor fel⯑low, who with a pike in his hand, ſtood centinel at a gate, and addreſſing him by the name of "Ci⯑toyen Soldat," aſked him the way to a particular ſtreet.

The pikemen were formerly conſidered as of a rank inferior to the national guards, who are armed with muſkets; but of late they are put on a foot⯑ing, and do duty together; but ſtill it might have been expected, that this gentleman's rank in the army would have commanded the ſtrongeſt marks of reſpect from a common ſoldier, if his laced coat failed to produce them in a poor fellow almoſt in rags.

"Tenez, mon camarade," ſaid the pikeman; ‘you will firſt turn to the right, and then walk ſtraight on until, &c.’

[80]The officer having heard the directions, returned thanks to the Citoyen Soldat, and moving his hat, walked away.

REASONS OF MONARCHY.
[From HARRINGTON's OCEANA]

I HAVE often thought it ſtrange, that among all the governments, either paſt or preſent, the monarchial ſhould ſo far in extent and number ex⯑ceed the popular, as that they could never yet come into compariſon. I could never be perſuaded but it was more happy for a people to be diſpoſed of by a number of perſons jointly intereſted and concern⯑ed with them, than to be numbered as the herd and inheritance of one, to whoſe luſt and madneſs they were abſolutely ſubject; and that any man of the weak⯑eſt reaſon and generoſity, would not rather chuſe for his habitation that ſpot of earth, where there was acceſs to honour by virtue▪ and no worth could be excluded, rather than that where all advance⯑ment ſhould proceed from the will of one ſcarcely hearing or ſeeing with his own organs, and gained for the moſt part by means lewd and indirect: and all this in the end to amount to nothing elſe but a more ſplendid and dangerous ſlavery.

He knows nothing, that knows not how ſuper⯑ſtitiouſly, the generality of mankind is given to retain traditions, and how pertinacious they are in the maintenance of their firſt prejudices, inſomuch that a diſcovery or more refined reaſon is as inſup⯑portable to them, as the ſun is to an eye, newly brought out of darkneſs. Hence opinionativeneſs (which is commonly proportioned to their igno⯑rance) [84]and a generous obſtinacy, ſometimes to death and ruin. So that it is no wonder if we ſee many gentlemen, whoſe education enabled them only to uſe their ſenſes and firſt thoughts, ſo dazzled with the ſplendour of a court, prepoſſeſſed with the affection of a prince, or bewitched with ſome ſub⯑dalous favour, that they choſe rather any hazard than the enchantment ſhould be diſſolved. Others, perhaps a degree above theſe, yet in reſpect of ſome title ſtuck upon the family (which has been as for⯑tunate a myſtery of king-craft as any other) or in re⯑verence to ſome glorious former atchievments [mind⯑ing not that in all theſe caſes the people are the only effective means, and the king only imaginary] think they ſhould degenerate from bravery in bringing on a change. Others are withheld by ſloth and timorouſneſs, either not daring, or unwilling to be happy; ſome looking no further than their pri⯑vate welfare, indifferent at the multiplication of public evils; others [and theſe the worſt of all] out of a pravity of nature ſacrificing to their ambition and avarice, and in order to that following any pow⯑er, concurring with any machinations, and ſup⯑porting their authors; while princes themſelves [trained up in theſe arts, or receiving them by tra⯑dition] know how to wind all their humours to their own advantage, now foiſting the divinity of their titles into pulpits, now amuſing the people with pomp and ſhows, now diverting their hot ſpirits to ſome unprofitable foriegn war [making way to their accurſed ends of revenge or glory, with the effuſion of that blood which ſhould be as dear to them as their own] now ſtroking the people with ſome feeble but inforced law, for which notwithſtanding they will be paid [and it is obſerved the moſt notorious tyrants have taken this courſe] now giving up the eminenteſt of of their miniſters, [which they part with as indifferently as their robes] to the rage and fury of the people: ſo that they are commanded and condemned by the ſame [85]mouth, and the credulous and ignorant, believing their king divinely ſet over them, ſit ſtill, and by degrees grow into quiet and admiration, eſpecially if lulled aſleep with ſome ſmall continuance of peace (be it ever ſo injuſt, unſound, or dangerous) as if the body politic could not languiſh of an internal diſeaſe, though its complexion be freſh and cheerful, Thoſe are the reaſon which (if I conceive aright) have ſtupified the leſs knowing part of mankind.

THE FREE NOTIONS OF THE ENGLISH.
FROM THE PERSIAN LETTERS.

ALL the nations of Europe are not under equal ſubjection to their princes: for inſtance, the impatient humour of the Engliſh ſeldom gives the king leiſure to extend or ſtrengthen his authority: Submiſſion and obedience are virtues they very lit⯑tle value themſelves upon. They, hold very ex⯑traordinary opinions about this article. According to them there is but one tie that has any effect upon men, which is that of gratitude: a huſband, a wife, a father, a ſon, are bound to each other by nothing, but either the love they bear to each other, or mu⯑tual ſervices and benefits; and theſe various mo⯑tives of acknowledgement, are the origin of all kingdoms, and all ſocieties.

But if a prince, inſtead of endeavouring to make his ſubjects happy, ſtudies only how to oppreſs and deſtroy them, the foundation of obedience ceaſes; nothing ties, nothing obliges them to him, and they return to their natural liberty. They maintain that no unlimited power can be lawful, becauſe it could never have a lawful beginning. For we cannot, ſay they, give to another more power over us than we have over ourſelves: Now we have not an unli⯑mited power over ourſelves; for inſtance, we can⯑not touch our own lives; no man upon earth there⯑fore, conclude they, can have ſuch a power.

High treaſon, according to them, is nothing but a crime committed by the weaker againſt the [86]ſtronger, by diſobeying him, let him diſobey him in what way he will. And accordingly the people of England, happening to prove the ſtronger in a con⯑tention with one of their kings, declared it to be high treaſon in a prince to make war upon his ſub⯑jects. They have very good reaſon, therefore to ſay, that the precept in their Alcoran, which en⯑joins obedience to the powers, is not very hard to follow, ſince they cannot help following it if they would; in as much as it is not to the moſt virtu⯑ous that they are bound to ſubmit, but to the ſtrongeſt.

The Engliſh tell you, that one of their kings hav⯑ing overcome and taken a prince that rebelled againſt him, and diſputed the crown with him, and upbraiding him with his treachery and perfidiouſ⯑neſs:—It has been decided but a moment, an⯑ſwered the unfortunate prince, which of us two is the traitor.

ON LOYALTY. FROM CATO'S LETTERS.

NO good prince will pretend that there is any loyalty due to him further, than he himſelf is loyal to the law, and obſervant of his people, the makers of kings and of laws. If any man miſ⯑led by ſound and deluſion, doubt this, let him con⯑ſider what is the deſign of magiſtracy, and what the duty of magiſtrates; and if he has reaſon in him, he will find that his duty is only due to thoſe who perform theirs. That protection and allegiance are reciprocal; that every man has a right to de⯑fend what no man has a right to take: That the di⯑vine right of kings, if they had it, can only warrant them in doing actions that are divine, and cannot protect them in cruelty, depredation and oppreſ⯑ſion: That a divine right to act wickedly, is a con⯑tradiction and blaſphemy, as it is Maledictio Supremi Numinis, a reproach upon the Deity, as if he gave [87]any man a commiſſion to be a devil: That a king in compariſon with the univerſe, is not ſo much as a mayor of a town in compariſon of a kingdom; and that, were Mr. Mayor, called king, it would give him no new right; or, if a king were only called Mr. Mayor, it would not leſſon nor abro⯑gate his old juriſdiction: That they are both civil officers, and that an offence in the leſſer is more pardonable than an offence in the greater. That the doctrines of unbroken hereditary right, and blind obedience, are the flights and forgeries of flatterers, who belie Heaven, and abuſe men, to make their own court to power, and that not one of them will ſtand the trial himſelf; in fine, that government, honeſt and legal government, is im⯑perium legum non hominum, the authority of law, and not of luſt.

Theſe are the principles upon which our go⯑vernment ſtands, the principles upon which every free government muſt ſtand: and that we Britons, dare tell ſuch truths, and publiſh ſuch principles is a glorious proof of our civil and religious free⯑dom: They are truths which every Briton ought to know, even children and ſervants; They are eternal truths, that will remain for ever, though in too many countries they are dangerous or uſeleſs or little known.

Before I have done, I would take notice of another miſtake very common, concerning loyal⯑ty: It is indeed a trick more than a miſtake; I mean of thoſe who would aſſert or rather create a ſort of LOYALTY TO MINISTERS, and make every thing which they do not like, an offence againſt their maſter.

ON EQUALITY. From Puffendorf's Whole Duty of Man, according to the Law of Nature.

MAN is a creature not only moſt ſolicitous for the preſervation of himſelf, but has of him⯑ſelf ſo nice an eſtimation and value, that to dimi⯑niſh [90]any thing thereof does frequently move in him as great indignation as if a miſchief were done to his body or eſtate. Nay, there ſeems to him to be ſomewhat of dignity in the appellation of MAN: ſo that the laſt and moſt efficacious argu⯑ment to curb the arrogance of inſulting men, is [...]ſually—I am not a dog, but a man as well as your⯑ſelf. Since then human nature is the ſame in us all, and ſince no man will or can cheerfully join in ſociety with any, by whom he is not at leaſt to be eſteemed equal as a man, and as a partaker of the ſame common nature. It follows that, among thoſe duties which men owe to each other, this ob⯑tains the ſecond place, That every man eſteem and treat another, as naturally equal to himſelf, or as one who is a man as well as he:

Now this equality of mankind does not alone conſiſt in this, that men of ripe age have almoſt the ſame ſtrength, or if one be weaker, he may be able to kill the ſtronger, either by treachery, or dex⯑terity, or by being better furniſhed with weapons: but in this, that though nature may have accom⯑pliſhed one man beyond another, with various endowments of body and mind: yet nevertheleſs he is obliged to an obſervation of the precepts of the law-natural towards the meaner perſon, after the ſame manner as he himſelf expects the ſame [...]on others; and has not therefore any greater li⯑berty given him to inſult upon his fellows. As, on the other ſide, the niggardlineſs of nature or fortune cannot of themſelves ſet any man ſo low as that he ſhall be in a worſe condition, as to the enjoyment of common right, than others. But what one man may: rightfully demand or expect from as another, the ſame is due to others alſo (cir⯑cumſtancies being alike) from him; and whatſoever one ſhall deem reaſonable to be done by others, the like it is moſt juſt he practiſe himſelf; For the obligation of maintaining ſociality among mankind, [91]equally binds every man; neither may one man more than another violate the law of nature, in any part. Not but that there are other popular reaſons which illuſtrate this equality; to wit, That we are all deſcended of the ſame ſtock; that we are all born, nouriſhed, and die after the ſame manner; and, that God has not given any of us a certain aſſurance, that our happy condition in this world ſhall not at one time or other be changed. Beſides, the precepts of the Chriſtian religion tell us, that God favours not man for his nobility, power, or wealth, but for ſincere piety, which may as well be found in a mean and humble man, as in thoſe of high degree.

Now from this equality it follows, That he who would uſe the aſſiſtance of others in promoting his own advantage, ought to be as free and ready to uſe his power and abilities for their ſervice, when they want his help and aſſiſtance on like occaſions. For he who requires that other men ſhould do him kindneſſes, and expects himſelf to be free from doing the like, muſt be of opinion, that thoſe other men are below himſelf and not his equals. Hence as thoſe perſons are the beſt members of a commu⯑nity, who, without any difficulty, allow the ſame things to their neighbours that themſelves require of him; ſo thoſe are altogether incapable of ſocie⯑ty, who ſetting a high rate on themſelves, in re⯑gard to others, will take upon them to act any thing towards their neighbour, and expect greater deference and more reſpect than the reſt of man⯑kind; and in their inſolent manner demanding a greater portion unto themſelves of thoſe things, to which, all men having a common right, they can in reaſon claim no larger ſhare than other men: Whence this alſo is an univerfal duty of the law⯑natural, That no man, who has not a peculiar right ought to arrogate more to himſelf than he is ready to allow to his fellows, but that he permit other men to enjoy equal privileges with himſelf.

[92]The ſame e quality alſo ſhews what every man's behaviour ought to be, when his buſineſs is to diſ⯑tribute juſtice among others; to wit, that he treat them as equals, and indulge not that, unleſs the merits of the cauſe require it, to one, which he dentes to another: For, if he do otherwiſe, he who is diſcountenanced is, at the ſame time, affronted and wronged, and loſes ſomewhat of the dignity which nature beſtowed upon him. Whence it follows, that things which are in common, are of right to be divided by equal parts among thoſe who are equal: Where the thing will not admit of di⯑viſion, they who are equally concerned, are to uſe it indifferently; and, if the quantity of the thing will bear it, as much as each party ſhall think fit; But if this cannot be allowed, then it is to be uſed after a ſtated manner, and proportioned to the number of the claimants; becauſe it is not poſſible to find out any other way of obſerving equality. But if it be a thing of that nature as not to be capable of being divided, nor of being poſ⯑ſeſſed in common, then it muſt be uſed by turns; and if this yet will not anſwer the point, and it is not poſſible the reſt ſhould be ſatisfied by an equi⯑valent. the beſt way muſt be, to determine poſſeſ⯑ſion by lot; for in ſuch caſes, no fitter method can be thought on, to remove all opinion of partiality and contempt of any party, without debaſing the perſon whom fortune does not favour,

ON THE ABSURDITY OF UNALTERA⯑BLE ESTABLISHMENTS. FROM PRIESTLY ON GOVERNMENT.

HIGHLY as we think of the wiſdom of our anceſtors, we juſtly think ourſelves, of the preſent-age, wiſer, and, if we be not blinded by [93]the prejudice of education, muſt ſee, that we can, in many reſpects, improve upon the inſtitutions they have tranſmitted to us. Let us not doubt, but that every generation in poſterity will be as much ſuperior to us in political, and in all kinds of knowledge, and that they will be able to im⯑prove upon the beſt civil inſtitutions that we can preſcribe for them. Inſtead then of adding to the difficulties which we ourſelves find, in making the improvements we wiſh to introduce, let us make this great and deſireable work eaſier to them than it has been to us.

However, ſuch is the progreſs of knowledge, and the enlargement of the human mind, that, in future time, notwithſtanding all obſtructions thrown in the way of human genius, men of great and exalted views will undoubtedly ariſe, who will ſee through, and deteſt our narrow politics; when the ill-adviſers, and ill-adviſed authous of theſe illiberal and contracted ſchemes, will be re⯑membered with infamy and execration: When notwithſtanding their talents as ſtateſmen or wri⯑ters, and though they may have purſued the ſame mind enſlaving ſchemes by more artful and leſs ſanguinary methods, they will be ranked among the Bonners and Gardeners of paſt ages; they muſt have been worſe than Bonners and Garden⯑ers, who could purſue the ſame ends by the ſame means, in this more humane and more enlighten⯑ed age.

England hath hitherto taken the lead, in almoſt every thing, great and good, and her citizens ſtand foremoſt in the annals of fame, as having ſhaken off the fetters which hung upon the human mind, and called it forth to the exertion of its nobleſt powers. And her conſtitution has been ſo far from receiving any injury from the efforts of theſe her free-born enterpriſing ſons, that ſhe is in part, indebted to them for the unrivalled repu⯑tation [94]ſhe now enjoys, of having the beſt ſyſtem of policy in Europe. After weathering ſo many real ſtorms, let us not quit the helm at the appre⯑henſion of imaginary dangers, but ſteadily hold on in what, I truſt, is the moſt glorious courſe that a government can be in. Let all the friends of li⯑berty and human nature join to free the minds of men from the ſhackles of narrow and impolitic laws. Let us be free ourſelves, and leave the bleſſings of freedom to our poſterity.

In ſhort, it ſeems to have been the intention of Divine Providence, that mankind ſhould be, as far as poſſible, ſelf-taught; that we ſhould attain to every thing excellent and uſeful, as the reſult of our own experience and obſervation; that our judgment ſhould be formed by the appearances which, are preſented to them, and our hearts in⯑ſtructed by their own feelings. But by the unna⯑tural ſyſtem of rigid, unalterable eſtabliſhments, we put it out of our power to inſtruct ourſelves, or to derive any advantage from the lights we ac⯑quire from experience and obſervation; and there⯑by, as far as in our power, we counteract the kind intentions of the Deity in the conſtitution of the world, and in providing for a ſtate of conſtant, though ſlow improvement in every thing.

In ſpite of all the fetters we can lay upon the human mind, notwithſtanding all poſſible diſcou⯑ragements in the way of free enquiry, knowledge of all kinds will encreaſe. The wiſdom of one generation will be folly in the next. And that, though we have ſeen this verified in the hiſtory of near two thouſand years, we perſiſt in the abſurd maxim of making a preceding generation dictate to a ſucceeding one, which is the ſame thing as making the fooliſh inſtruct the wiſe; for what is a lower degree of wiſdom but comparatively folly?

Were any more laws reſtraining the liberty of the preſs in force, it is impoſſible to ſay how far [95]they might be conſtrued to extend. Thoſe already in being are more than are requiſite, and inconſiſt⯑ent with the intereſts of truth. Were they to ex⯑tend further, every author would lie at the mercy of the miniſters of ſtate, who might condemn, in⯑diſcriminately, upon ſome pretence or other, every work that gave them umbrage; under ſuch cir⯑cumſtances; might fall ſome of the greateſt and nobleſt productions of the human mind, if ſuch works could be produced in thoſe circumſtances. For, if men of genius knew they could not pub⯑liſh the diſcoveries they made, they would not give free ſcope to their faculties, in making and purſuing thoſe diſcoveries. It is the thought of publication, and the proſpect of fame, which is generally the great incentive to men of genius to exert their faculties, in attempting the untrodden paths of ſpeculation. In thoſe unhappy circum⯑ſtances, writers would entertain a dread of every new ſubject. No man could ſafely indulge him⯑ſelf in any thing bold, enterpriſing, and out of the vulgar road; and in all publications we ſhould ſee a timidity incompatable with the ſpirit of diſco⯑very. If any towering genius ſhould ariſe in thoſe unfavourable circumſtances, a Newton in the na⯑tural world; or a Locke, a Hutchinſon, a Clarke, or a Harley in the moral, the only effectual method to prevent their defuſing a ſpirit of enterprize or innovation, which is natural to ſuch great ſouls, could be no other than that which Tarquin ſo ſig⯑nificantly expreſſed, by taking off the heads of all thoſe poppies which overlooked the reſt. Such men could not but be dangerous, and give umbrage in a country, where it was the maxim of the go⯑vernment, that every thing of importance ſhould for ever remain unalterably fixed.

THE INHABITANTS OF HELL. From a Pamphlet, entitled "The Rights of the Devil."

THESE (that is the prieſts) are the moſt nu⯑merous of all Lucifer's ſubjects, except the military, for next to the clergy, the military are the moſt devoted, which may be ſeen by the ardor they diſcover on all occaſions in the ſervice of their grand maſter and monarch, Lucifer. Nothing diminiſhes the zeal of ſoldiers, no hardſhips or calamities can intimidate them from the purſuit of their maſter's intereſt. Captivity, priſons, fetters, chains, ſlavery, or death, give no check to their activity; but havock and devaſtation are the works [112]of their hands. See how theſe heroes leave every thing near and dear behind them. Their trades are nothing in compariſon to the intrinſic acquiſitions of the ſoldier, who ſacrifices every thing to the pleaſure of murdering his fellow-creatures. How many of theſe Engliſh Sans Culottes have left twenty-five, and even thirty ſhillings per week, within theſe ſix months paſt, to gain in return ſix⯑pence a day, to be food for gun-powder, and to diſtinguiſh themſelves as the beſt friends and warmeſt advocates for Satan's kingdom. Mark! what diſintereſtedneſs! Surely Lucifer has ſome right to ſuch property as this! Only examine their fa [...]es and their figures, both will declare to you whom they ſerve, and whoſe they are. Their pole complexions, their tawny countenances, their tanned hides; in ſhort, the whole of their meagre bodies have more the appearance of carcaſes or ſke⯑letons, than of human figures. Their bodies, I ſay, loaded with wounds, exhauſted by labours which they have undergone, with diſtempers which con⯑ſume them, with vermin which gnaw them while alive, with hunger which devours them, with ex⯑ceſſive heat, and rigorous cold, which they expe⯑rience and endure with courage and delight, for a poor and wretched ſtipend, plainly ſhew that the moſt powerful and predominant of all their paſ⯑ſions, is their deſire for the infernal regions. And this is further confirmed by the ardent exclama⯑tions with which they conclude every ſentence they pronounce; ſuch as, The Devil take me! The Devil ſeize me! The Devil choak me! The Devil fly away with me! &c. &c. Which ejacula⯑tions certainly expreſs their earneſt wiſh to go to Lucifer's kingdom. The Devil will never deny his right to ſuch property as they are.

I had like to have omitted informing you, that the military are accompanied with their officers, even in Hell: and why not? They are fond of [113]leading the dance with them on Earth, and ſurely ought to partake of their pleaſures in Hell. They are led by their officers by thouſands every day, with colours flying, muſic playing, and drums beating, amidſt the acclamations of all who ſee them, on their journey to Pluto's regions. There is no exception of perſons in the military, they go unanimouſly, hand in hand. There you ſee them travelling in ſocial union, with wonderful contraſt, generaliſſimo and private, general and drummer, duke and corporal, prince and ſerjeant, kings and ſerjeant-majors, emperors and adjutants, in moſt parts of Europe, vieing with each other in their various tactical knowledge, to diſcover who has the greateſt ability, in getting tenants in the greateſt numbers, to occupy Beelzebub's kingdom. Witneſs the ſcenes now exhibiting on the other ſide the water, what bravery is diſplayed by the Engliſh, Dutch, Pruſſians, Auſtrians, Heſſians, Ha⯑noverians, &c. of all ranks and degrees, from the prince to the private, in order to tranſport them⯑ſelves to the infernal regions; and none can be more deſerving than thoſe who take up the ſword in defence of their common maſter, for the expreſs purpoſe of peopling his kingdom. Go on, then, ye veterans! hide your truſty blades in the bowels of your b [...]ethren! your laurels will cleave to your brows in never fading and glowing colours: and Satan ſhall crown you with everlaſting honours!

Ignorance the Foundation of unequal Governments, and foſtered by them deſignedly.
[From "Barlow's Advice to priviledged Orders."

UNEQUAL Governments are neceſſarily found⯑ed on ignorance, and they muſt be ſupported by ignorance; to deviate from their principle, would be voluntary ſuicide. The great object of [114]their policy is to perpetuate that undiſturbed igno⯑rance of the people, which is the companion of poverty, the parent of crimes, and the pillar of the ſtate.

In England, the people at large are as perfectly ignorant of the acts of Parliament, after they are made, as they poſſibly can be before. They are printed by one man only, who is called the king's printer—in the old German character, which few men can read—and ſold at a price that few can afford to pay. But, leſt ſome ſcraps or comments upon them ſhould come to the people, through the medium of public news-papers, every ſuch paper is ſtamped with a heavy duty: and an act of parlia⯑ment is made, to prevent men from lending their papers to each other; ſo that, not one perſon in a hundred ſees a news-paper once in a year. If a man at the bottom of Yorkſhire diſcovers, by in⯑ſtinct, that a law is made which is intereſting for him to know, he has only to make a journey to London, find out the king's printer, pay a penny a page for the law, and learn the German alphabet. He is then prepared to ſpell out his duty.

As to the general ſyſtem of the laws of the land, on which all property depends, no man in the kingdom knows them, and no man pretends to know them. They are a fathomleſs abyſs, that exceeds all human faculties to ſound. They are ſtudied, not to be underſtood, but to be diſputed; not to give information, but to breed confuſion. The man whoſe property is depending on a ſuit at law, dares not to look into the gulph that ſeparates him from the wiſhed-for deciſion; he has no con⯑fidence in himſelf, nor in reaſon, nor in juſtice; he mounts on the back of a lawyer, like one of Mr. [...]urke's heroes of chivalry, between the wings of a gr [...]ffin, and truſts the pilotage to a man, who is ſu⯑perior to himſelf only in the confidence which reſults from having nothing at ſtake.

On the Injustice of taking Fees from Perſons acquitted in Courts of Justice.
[From "The Candid Philoſopher."]

A MAN ſuſpected of a felonious action, is taken up, ſent to goal, uſed there in a barbarous manner, yet when brought to his trial is found per⯑fectly innocent. A man of common ſenſe, uprac⯑tiſed in the wiſdom of our laws, would naturally imagine he would be now diſcharged. But no ſuch thing; he muſt be remanded to priſon to undergo the ſame harſh treatment he received before his trial, unleſs he pays the fees that are demanded of him.— They are the pooreſt people on whom ſuſ⯑picions generally fall, and who, ſo far from being able to pay goaler's fees, could ſcarcely maintain themſelves in priſon before the proof of their in⯑nocence appeared. How cruel, therefore, after puniſhing an innocent perſon with impriſonment, making him loſe his buſineſs and his character, to rob him of his property, under the name of paying fees!—O ſhame! ſhame! ſhame!

Whether the Balance of Dominion in Land be the natural Cauſe of Empire?
[From Harrington's Oceana.]

IF a man having one hundred pounds a year may keep one ſervant, or have one man at his command, then having one hundred times ſo much, he may keep one hundred ſervants; and this multiplied by a thouſand, he may have one hundred thouſand men at his command. Now, that the ſingle perſon, or nobility of any country in Europe, that had but half ſo many men at com⯑mand, would be king or prince, is that which I think no man will doubt. But no money no Switzers, as the French ſpeak: if the money be flown, ſo are the men alſo. Though riches in general have [116]wings, and be apt to bate, yet thoſe in land are the moſt hooded and tied to the perch, whereas thoſe in money have the leaſt hold, and are the ſwifteſt in flight. A bank, where the money takes not wing, but to come home ſeized, or like a coy duck, may well be great; but the treaſure of the Indies going out, and not upon returns, makes no bank. Whence a bank never paid an army; or paying an army ſoon became no bank. But where a prince or nobility has an eſtate in land, the revenue whereof will defray this charge, there their men are plant⯑ed, have toes that are roots, and arms that bring forth what fruit you pleaſe.

Thus a ſingle perſon is made, or a nobility makes a king, not with difficulty or any great pru⯑dence, but with eaſe, the reſt coming home, as the ox that not only knows his master's crib, but muſt ſtarve or repair to it. Nor for the ſame reaſon is government acquired with more eaſe than it is pre⯑ſerved; that is, if the foundation of property be in land. but if in morey, lightly come, lightly go. The reaſon why a ſingle perſon, or the nobility that has one hundred thouſand men, or half ſo many at command, will have the government, is, that the eſtate in land, whereby they are able to maintain ſo many, in any European territory, muſt overbalance the reſt that remains to the people, at leaſt three parts in four, by which means they are no more able to diſpute the government with him or them, than your ſervant is with you. Now, for the ſame reaſon, if the people hold three parts in four of the territory, it is plain there can nei⯑ther be any ſingle perſon nor nobility able to diſ⯑pute the government with them; in this caſe, therefore, except force be interpoſed, they govern themſelves. So by this computation of the balance of property, or dominion in land, you have ac⯑cording to the threefold foundation of property, the root or generation of the threefold kind of go⯑vernment or empire.

[117]If one man be ſole landlord of a territory, or overbalance the whole people, three parts in four, or thereabouts, he is Grand Seignior; for ſo the Turk, not from his empire, but his property, is called; and the empire in this caſe, is abſolute monarchy.

If the few, or a nobility, or a nobility with a clergy, be landlords to ſuch a proportion as over⯑balances the people in the like manner, they may make whom they pleaſe king; or, if they be not pleaſed with their king, down with him, and ſet up whom they like better; a HENRY the Fourth, or the Seventh, a GUISE, a MONTFORT, a NEVIL, or a PORTER, ſhould they find that beſt for their own ends and purpoſes: For, as not the balance of the king, but that of the nobility, in this caſe, is the cauſe of the government, ſo not the eſtate or the riches of the prince or captain, but his virtue or ability, or fitneſs for the ends of the nobility, acquires that command or office. This for ariſto⯑cracy or mixed monarchy. But if the whole people be landlords, or hold the land ſo divided among them, that no one man or number of men within the compaſs of the few, or ariſtocracy over⯑balance them, it is a commonwealth. Such is the branch in the root, or the balance of property na⯑turally producing empire; which not confuted, no man ſhall be able to batter my ſuperſtructures, and which confuted I lay down my arms; till then, if the cauſe neceſſarily precede the effect, property muſt have a being before empire; or, beginning with it, muſt be ſtill firſt in order.

Property comes to have a being before empire or government two ways, either by a natural or violent revolution. Natural revolution happens from within, or by commerce, as when a govern⯑ment erected upon one balance, that for example of a nobility or a clergy, through the decay of their eſtates comes to alter to another balance; which [118]alteration in the root of property leaves all to con⯑fuſion, or produces a new branch of government, according to the kind or nature of the root. Vio⯑lent revolution happens from without, or by arms, as when upon conqueſt there follows confiſcation. Confiſcation again is of three kinds; when the captain taking all to himſelf, plants his army, by way of military colonies, benefices, or timars, which was the policy of MAHOMET; or when the captain has ſome ſharers, or a nobility that divides with him which was the policy introduced by the Goths and Vandals; or when the captain divides the inheritance by lots, or otherwiſe, to the whole people; which policy was inſtituted by GOD or MOSES in the commonwealth of Iſrael. This tri⯑ple diſtribution, which from natural or violent re⯑volution returns as to the generation of empire to the ſame thing, that is to the nature of the balance already ſtated and demonſtrated.

A GOVERNMENT OF CITIZENS IS INVULNERABLE. FROM HARRINCTON'S OCEANA.

ALL government, as implied by what has been already ſhewn, is of theſe three kinds: A go⯑vernment of ſervants: A government of ſubjects; or A government of citizens. The firſt is abſolute monar⯑chy, as that of Turkey: The ſecond ariſtocratical monarchy, as that of France: The third a common⯑wealth, as thoſe of Iſrael, of Rome, of Holland. Now to follow MACHIAVEL (in part) of theſe, the government of ſervants is the harder to be con⯑quered, and the eaſier to be held: The government of ſubjects is the eaſter to be conquered and the harder to be held. To which I ſhall preſume to add, that the government of citizens is both the hardeſt to be conquered, and the hardeſt to be held.

My author's reaſons, why a government of ſer⯑vants is the hardeſt to be conquered, come to this, that they are under perpetual diſcipline and com⯑mand, void of ſuch intereſts and factions as have hands or power to hold upon advantages or innova⯑tion; whence he that invades the Turk muſt truſt to his own ſtrength, and not rely upon diſorders in the government, or forces which he ſhall be ſure enough to find united.

His reaſons why this government, being once broken, is eaſily held, are, that the armies once paſt hope of rallying, there being no ſuch thing as families hanging together, or nobility to ſtir up their dependants to further reluctancy for the preſent, or to preſerve themſelves by complacence with the conquerors, for future diſcontents or advantages, [127]he that has won the garland has no more to do but to extinguiſh the royal line, and wear it ever after in ſecurity. For the people having been always ſlaves, are ſuch whoſe condition he may better, in which caſe they are gainers by their conqueror, but can never make a worſe, and therefore they loſe nothing by him. Hence ALEXANDER having con⯑quered the Perſian empire, he and his captains af⯑ter him could hold it without the leaſt diſpute, except it aroſe among themſelves. Hence MAHO⯑MET the ſecond having taken Conſtantinople, and put Palaeologus the Greek emperor (whoſe govern⯑ment was of like nature with the Perſian) together with his whole family, to the ſword, the Turk has held that empire without reluctancy.

On the other ſide, the reaſons why a government of ſubjects is eaſier conquered, are theſe: That it is ſupported by a nobility ſo antient, ſo powerful, and of ſuch hold and influence upon the people, that the king without danger, if not ruin to him⯑ſelf or the throne (an example whereof was given in HENRY the ſeventh of England,) can neither in⯑vade their privileges, nor level their eſtates; which remaining, they have power upon every diſcontent to call in an enemy, as ROBERT Count of Artois did the Engliſh, and the Duke of Guiſe the Spaniard, into France.

The reaſons why a government of ſubjects being ſo eaſily conquered, is nevertheleſs harder to be held, are theſe: that the nobility being ſoon out of countenance in ſuch a caſe, and repenting them⯑ſelves of ſuch a bargain, have the ſame means in their hands, whereby they brought in the enemy, to drive him out, as thoſe of France did both the Engliſh and the Spaniards.

For the government of citizens, as it is of two kinds, an equal or an unequal commonwealth, the reaſon why it is the hardeſt to be conquered, are alſo of two kinds; as firſt, the reaſons why a go⯑vernment [128]of citizens, where the commonwealth is equal, is hardeſt to be conquered, are, that the invader of ſuch a ſociety muſt not only truſt to his own ſtrength, inſomuch as the commonwealth being equal, he muſt needs find them united, but in re⯑gard, that ſuch citizens being all ſoldiers or trained up to their arms, which they uſe not for the defence of ſlavery, but of LIBERTY (A CONDITION NOT IN THIS WORLD TO BE BETTERED); they have more eſpecially upon this occaſion, the higheſt ſoul of courage, and (if their territory be of any extent) the vaſteſt body of a well diſciplined militia that is poſſible in nature: wherefore AN EXAMPLE OF SUCH A ONE OVERCOME BY THE ARMS OF A MO⯑NARCH, IS NOT TO BE FOUND IN THE WORLD. And if ſome ſmall city of this frame has happened to be vanquiſhed by a potent commonwealth, this is her prerogative, her towers are her funeral pile, and ſhe expires in her own flame, leaving nothing to the con⯑queror but her aſhes, as Saguntum overwhelmed by Carthage, and Numantia by Rome.

From the Candid Philoſopher, printed in the year 1778. ON THE PROCRESS OF LIBETRY IN FRANCE.

HOWEVER the preſent age may have receded from genuine piety, it has certainly m [...]de the moſt rapid advances in a freedom and liberality of ſentiment, which do honour to human nature. The French nation has particularly diſtinguiſhed itſelf in this reſpect. Its writers diſplay a vigour of thought they have till now been almoſt ſtrangers to. They plead the cauſe of human nature, and aſſert man's natural [...]ights, with an energy and warmth that ſeem to indicate the ſpeedy downfal of that vaſt fabric of ſuperſtition and error, that has hitherto ſo greatly obſtructed the progreſs of free [135]enquiry, and chilled even the emotions of huma⯑nity. What writer of any nation can expreſs him⯑ſelf with greater zeal for the ſovereignty of the laws, againſt the blind will of the monarch, the ty⯑ranny of miniſters, or the clamour of a mob, than to lay this down as a juſt maxim? "Le glaire re⯑doubtable de la juſtice n'a point ete depoſed [...]ns les mains des magiſtrats, pour venger des haines parti⯑ [...]ul [...]eres, ni meme pour ſuivre les monvemens de I indignation publique. [...]e [...]t a LA LOI SEULE appartient de marquer les victimes; et ſi les cla⯑meurs d'une multitude aveugle et paſſionn [...]e pou⯑voint decider les juges a prononcer one Peine ca⯑pitale, I innocence pren [...]oit la place du crime. et il n'y auroit plus de ſurete pour le citoyen." Theſe are juſt and excellent ſentiments; but they are not peculiar to this writer. The greater part of his coun⯑trymen now think with the ſame freedom, and ſpeak with the ſame force. This liberal ſpirit has a great⯑er tendency to exalt the French nation than all the military operations of their much boaſted Lewis XIV. whoſe glories ſunk, and whoſe victories im⯑poveriſhed, the kingdom he ſought to ſtrengthen and enrich. However, as Engliſhmen, we may la⯑ment the dawing ſplendor of the French monarchy, enlighte'ed by the Sun of ſcience; yet, as citizens of the univerſe, we muſt rejoice at the great and glorious effects produced by the genius of liberty, that can turn Siberia's deſerts into Albion's fertile plains; unlock the ſources of plenty and bliſs, and change brutes and ſlaves into men and heroes!

ON A LIFE OF LABOUR.
FROM THE SAME.

WE read in many authors great encomiums on a life of labour, and of the ſuperior bleſſings of peaſants and hard working men, whoſe tempe⯑rate [136]and abſtemious lives not only make them enjoy an uninterrupted ſtate of health, but throw a crim⯑ſon on their cheeks, and give a vigour to their bo⯑dies, the ſons of wealth and affluence, they tell us, may in vain ſigh for. This ſounds well; but I own I am doubtful of the fact.

If I compare the working part of mankind, who [...]e hard and work hard. with thoſe who eat and drink of the good "things of the earth," I think I can diſcern better complexions. choicer animal ſp [...]ri [...]s, and ſtronger bodies in the latter than in the former. Inceſſant labour, and coarſe and ſcanty food, have certainly a tendency to weaken the bo⯑dies of mankind, and wear them out before their time [...] And this we [...] is the eaſe, What becomes t [...]n of the fine ſpun theories of viſionary authors. who ſo greatly extol a laborious life?—Why, they are deſtroyed, like other cobweb ſyſtems, that will not bear handling.

The perſonal Virtues of a Monarch are unable to ſecure him from contempt, if he will be led blindfold by wicked Miniſters.
FROM THE SAME.

A MONARCH who will ſuffer himſelf to be directed by vicious favourites and miniſters, though virtuous in himſelf, is, in fact, the author of their vices, and all the unhappy conſequences that reſult from them. A monarch who is the fa⯑ther of his people, ſhould not be the dupe of a fa⯑vourite. A monarch who ſhould ſee and judge for himſelf, ſhould not take things upon truſt. If a nation, from the height of ſplendour and glory, ſhould be brought by the ignorance or treachery of incapable or wicked miniſters, to a ſtate of miſery and contempt, deſpiſed abroad, and at home unhap⯑py—it is but poor conſolation to reflect, that the [137]king has many perſonal virtues. Was this imagi⯑nary deſcription to become a real picture of a nati⯑on, and its virtuous monarch, I would cry out wiih Marcus, in the Tragedy of Cato,

"Curſe on his virtues—they've undone his country."

MODERN MOTIVES FOR WAR.
(From Barlow's advice to the Privileged Orders.)

ONE general character will apply to much the greater part of the wars of modern times,— they are political, and not vindictive. This alone is ſufficient to account for their real origin. They are wars of agreement, rather than of diſſention; and the conqueſt is taxes. and not territory. To carry on this buſineſs. it is neceſſary not only to keep up the military ſpirit of the nobleſſe by titles and penſions, and to keep in pay a vaſt number of troops, who know no other God but their king, who loſe all ideas of themſelves, in contemplating their officers, and who forget the duties of a m [...]n, to practiſe thoſe of a ſoldier.—this is but half the operation; an eſſential part of the military ſyſtem is to diſarm the people, to hold all the functions of war, as well the arm that executes, as the will that declares it, equally above their reach. This part of the ſyſtem has a douhle effect, it palſies the hand and brutalizes the mind; an habitual diſuſe of phy⯑ſical forces totally deſtroys the moral; and men loſe at once the power of protecting themſelves, and of diſcerning the cauſe of their oppreſſion,

ON THE GOVERNMENT OF HELL.
(From a Pamphlet entitled: The Rights of the Devil.)

WE have a long time diſputed, and are not yet agreed in this point, what is the beſt and moſt advantageous form of government for any na⯑tion, and for the people whereof it conſiſts. Some are for a democracy, others for ariſtocracy, and others for monarchy. Although each of theſe opi⯑nions has its favourites, and is ſupported by very ſolid reaſons; it nevertheleſs appears certain, that monarchy prevails over the other two, becauſe the four great empires which ſucceeded one another in the world, and exiſted near two thouſand years, all adopted and followed a monarchial form of govern⯑ment. And it appears to be an indiſputable fact, that this is the government of the infernal empire (viz) an abſolute monarchy. It is undoubtedly the beſt form of government for the monarch, what⯑ever it may be for the ſubjects, becauſe the Devil aſſumes the power of the whole maſs of beings col⯑lectively, and conſequently can make what aggran⯑dizement he pleaſes at the expence of his vaſſals, and they dare not grunt their diſapprobation. Thus, you ſee the Devil has a right and property in his ſubjects, as he, like earthly monarchs, can rob and plunder them at his pleaſure, and is account⯑able to no one for his deeds; for it is an eſtabliſhed maxim, "That kings can do no wrong." There⯑fore, Lucifer, as King of Hell, cannot act amiſs. But you are ready to aſk, from whence did the De⯑vil derive theſe ineſtimable rights and privileges? Did the people, his ſubjects, give up their rights? No: he acquired them by aſſumption; and by God's permiſſion, he has poſſeſſed thoſe valuable rights through a ſeries of ages, and will continue to enjoy them for ages to come, as their is no heir apparent to lucceed him. Is not thoſe Rights of the Devil with reſpect to the length of time he enjoys them [631]far ſuperior to the Rights of earthly Kings? certain⯑ly they are, as hiſtory furniſhes us with documents to prove that he has exerciſed thoſe rights through a ſucceſſion of ages, already near ſix thouſand years; and will undoubtedly enjoy them as many more. The infernal monarchy, according to hiſtory, ap⯑pears to have been original; for I do not recollect reading of any other previous to the eſtabliſhment of a monarchical government in Hell by the puiſ⯑ſant Lucifer. Why, thou fool, ſay ſome of you, how ſhouldſt thou hear of its having a precedent, ſince its originality is unqueſtionable, and all other abſolute monarchies are but eminations from that primary authority, having their exiſtence from that very ſource. Hell is the fountain head, and all terreſtrial monarchies, I ſay, are but corrupted waters in compariſon with the fountain which ſup⯑plies them, notwithſtanding no labour has been loſt on the part of the monarchs in all ages and kingdoms, to render their governments pure like their original. Yet Hell is the moſt peaceable, and juſtice therein the beſt adminiſtered of any other kingdom I have ever heard of. No wars! no riots! no tumults or inſurrections! no traiterous correſ⯑pondence! no ſediton or attempt to alienate the af⯑fections of Lucifer's ſubjects from his perſon! no attempt to vilify and bring into contempt the con⯑ſtitution of the empire! But, on the contrary, the virtues moſt prevalent are, unity, peace and con⯑cord, throughout the whole of Lucifer's dominions. In Hell, the public tranquility is never diſturbed in any ſtate or apartment. There you will hear of no ſuch odious names, as Paine, or Prieſtley, to alarm or terrify you, by their endeavours to ſubvert the government or the country. There will be no Birmingham Roberſpieres to affright, or diſturb "the loyal Job Not," when he lays down his head on the lap of his mother, of whom poor Job has ſuch dreadful apprehenſions.

[140]Go on, thou loyal true blue, and purſue thy jour⯑ney, and fear not for thou mayeſt aſſuredly depend upon a welcome reception by King Lucifer, but more eſpecially if thou art accompanied by thy con⯑fort Betty Martin, no queſtions will then be aſked, the mark in your foreheads will teſtify whoſe ſub⯑jects you are. Hail! happy Job and Betty! Two faithful pot companions; greet the brethren of the houſehold with an unholy kiſs, when you enter thoſe happy realms, where loyalty and unanimity ever dwells. Who can avoid contemplating the happineſs of Job, when undiſturbed by his ene⯑mies? There is no ſuch thing as a Jacobin in Hell; and the names of Paine, Prieſtley, and in ſhort all the names of modern reformers, are deteſtable there as well as here: no projects of reform are recognized there; in fact, thereis no neceſſity, the conſtitution being in its primitive purity, which is rendered mani⯑feſt by the deſire of anti-republicans and others ſhew in their emigration thither. What has been left undone by the celebrated Job Nott, the more ef⯑fectually to ſecure to himſelf a place at the helm of affairs in Satan's kingdom? Has not every thing in his power been done, to obtain the favour of his maſter Lucifer? Certainly Job has been a very zealous friend in his maſter's ſervice, which was very conſpicuous in his conduct in the Birmingham riots; and he is entitled to patronage and promoti⯑on in the court of Lucifer, in whom the ſole right of conferring places, honours, penſions, and emo⯑luments is inveſted, Job's literary productions have alſo contributed very much to the population of the infernal regions; which will undoubtedly pre⯑judice the inhabitants greatly in his favour. Me⯑thinks, I hear ſome of you ſay that I am jealous of the honour about to be done to Job: no, no; far be it from me to envy any man; for I declare to Job and all the world, that neither envy, hatred, malice or uncharitableneſs ſhall ever find place within me.

The Impoſſibility of commencing Tyrant over an armed Nation convinced of the univerſal Equality of Man⯑kind.
(From Barlow's Advice to the Privileged Orders)

ONLY admit this original, un [...]lt [...]rable truth, that all men are qual in their rights, and the foundation of every thing is laid: to build the ſu⯑perſtructures requires no effort but that of natural deduction. The firſt neceſſary deduction will be, that the people will form an equal repreſentative government; in which it will be impoſſible for or⯑ders or privileges to exiſt for a moment; and con⯑ſequently the firſt materials for ſtanding armies will be converted into peaceable members of the ſtate. Another deduction follows, that the people will be univerſally armed: they will aſſume thoſe wea⯑pons for ſecurity, which the art of war has invent⯑ed for deſtruction. You will then have removed the neceſſity of a ſtanding army, by the organization of the legiſlature, and the poſſibility of it, by the ar⯑arangement of the militia; for it is saimpoſſible for an armed ſoldiery to exiſt in an armed nation, as for a nobility to exiſt under as equal government.

It is curious to remark how ill we reaſon on hu⯑man nature, from being accuſtomed to view it un⯑der the diſguiſe which the unequal governments of the world have always impoſed upon it, During the American was, and eſpecially towards its cloſe, General Waſhington might be ſaid to poſſeſs the hearts of all the Americans. His recommendation was law, and he was able to command the whole power of that people for any purpoſe of defence. The philoſophers of Europe conſidered this as a dangerous criſis to the cauſe of freedom. They knew, from the example of Caeſar, and Silla, and Marius, and Alcibiades, and Pericles, and Crom⯑well, that Waſhington would never lay down his arms, till he had given his country a maſter. But [142]after he did lay them down, then came the miracle —his virtue was more than human; and it is by this miracle of virtue in him, that the Americans are ſuppoſed to enjoy their liberty at this day.

I believe the virtue of that great man to be equal to the higheſt human virtue that has ever yet been known; but to an American eye no extraordinary portion of it could appear in that tranſaction. It would have been impoſſible for the General or the anny, to have continued in the field after the ene⯑my left it; for the ſoldiers were all citizens! and if it had been otherwiſe. their numbers were not the hundreth part of the citizens at large, who were all ſoldiers. To ſay that he was wiſe in diſ⯑cerning the impoſſibility of ſucceſs, in an attempt to imitate the great heroes abovementioned, is to give him only the ſame merit for ſagacity which is common to every other perſon who knows the country, or has well conſidered the effects of equal liberty.

ON THE POMPOUS TITLES GIVEN TO THE DIGNIFIED CLERGY.
(From the Candid Philoſopher)

THE pompous titles given to the haughty ſuc⯑ceſſors of humble fiſhermen, have often ama⯑zed me. Some of them appear to me either to bor⯑der on the very confines of blaſphemy, or to have no meaning in them. I would fain know how any man alive can, with propriety, be called a RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD? What is the mean⯑ing of this great title? How can any man. formed of duſt and aſhes, full of frailty, and full of ſin, be ſaid to be RIGHT REVEREND? And how is he a Father in GOD? Equivocation may explain away theſe words, but common ſenſe muſt determine they are impious and abſurd.—As to the terms, your [143] Grace, your Lordſhip, your Reverence, &c. &c. they favour too much of vanity and laical pride, to be⯑come the humility of the diſciples of CHRIST, and teachers of his goſpel. I cannot find any ſuch titles were ever given to our SAVIOUR or his apoſtles; yet, without intending any affront to the pious Paſtors of the eſtabliſhed Church, I really think the apoſtles were as holy, wiſe and virtuous, as any of the Primates, Archbiſhops, Prebendaties, Rectors, Vicars, &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. of the pre⯑ſent age.

ON THE VENALITY OF VOTERS, BOTH IN AND OUT OF PARLIAMENT.
(From the Adventures of Gabriel Outcaſt.)

THOUGH our prudent anceſtors found it ne⯑ceſſary to curb the influence of the crown, by enacting a law, that none of its officers ſhould interfere in elections, yet matters are come to ſuch a paſs. that adminiſtration found it neceſſary to have as many voices in the houſe, as they could acquire; for this purpoſe no money was ſpared, and every meaſure purſued that would defe [...]t and evade the ſtanding laws againſt bribery and corrup⯑tion. The misfortune ſeemed to be this: in the reign of King William, venality in parliament was unknown, every man voted as his judgment and conſcience directed him, and the miniſter could carry no meaſures of his own, unleſs they tended to the general good.

This did not agree with King William, who was an arbitrary prince, and of courſe, found his ſitua⯑tion ſo uneaſy. that he was once on the eve of re⯑turning to Holland in diſguſt, and would undoubt⯑edly have done it, had not his miniſters contrived to carry his favourite points, by bribing the Parlia⯑ment of thoſe times. Thus did that venality, to [144]which the enormous debt of this nation is in a great meaſure owing, deſcend from the crown to the people; for in thoſe days it was found difficult to find repreſentatives; and the electors were obliged to court gentlemen to ſerve them. But when the members found they were to be rewarded for their votes. men were ſo eager to get into parliament, that they courted the electors, who, in their turn, expected o [...] be paid for their ſuffrages, of courſe, the members of the lower houſe, in a few years, could not obtain a ſear but at a great expence, and to reimburſe themſelves, made termſ with the mi⯑niſter; and ſuch was the degeneracy of the times, that men would not vete, even according to their conſciences, without a bribe. This corruption ſpreading from the lower houſe to the upper, has occaſioned all the cala [...]ties under which this coun⯑try labours; and whereas venality near a century ago deſcended, as I obſerved, from the crown to the people, it now riſes from the people to the crowm.^{8 *⁎*}

Defects in the Engliſh Conſtitution, as to Repreſentation. From the Complaints of the Poor People of Eng⯑land.

IN England few poor men have any ſhare in making the laws. Some may probably think, and certain politicians aſſert, that poor men have neither the power, nor the right, to make laws. What is this, but to aſſert, that the poor man's portion in England is ſ [...]wery. I do not ſay, that the poor people of Eng⯑land are ſlaves. But this I ſay, that all freemen make their own laws; and I do but ſpeak after our beſt po⯑litical writers. Will gentlemen tell me, why poor men are to be ſlaves? However, while I conſider every man's right to make laws, as his moſt ſacred pro⯑perty, and the exerciſe of that right as eſſential to li⯑berty, whoever cannot exerciſe that right, be he ever ſo rich, I muſt at leaſt conſider as poor; in the worſt ſenſe poor. My complaints, therefore, do not confine them⯑ſelves [146]to paupers, commonly ſo called. Many poor men live in England, who are poſſeſſed of thouſands!

There are two ways of making laws, viz. in our own perſons, or by repreſentatives. If a country be large and populous, all the people cannot aſſemble and conſult together for the purpoſe of making laws: but if they authorize perſons, acquainted with their wants, and intereſted in their happineſs, to repreſent them, every good end may be anſwered. The only danger is, leſt theſe perſons ſhould not expreſs the public mind. Never will they expreſs it, unleſs they repreſent the public.—This is the caſe in England: the government of which it is uſual to call a limited monarchy, in reference to the perſon of the prince. But in reference to the people, ſo great a part of whom have no ſhare in repreſentation, it might be called, notwithſtanding what we ſay of the houſe of commons, a mixt ariſtocracy, as Poland has been called.

The king, the houſe of peers, and the houſe of commons, compoſe what are called the three branches of the conſtitution—the king in his own perſon, the nobles in their own perſons. What is a houſe of com⯑mons? It is ſuppoſed to repreſent the people: but ſome ſay, it is a fiction; that is, that it does not ex⯑iſt, but that it is only ſuppoſed to exiſt. When men inquire into facts, what are called theories frequently vaniſh. We talk of a houſe of commons, of a houſe of repreſentatives; it is the glory of Britons! and foreigners laugh at us. They aſk us, Where is this houſe? I leave others to anſwer this queſtion.

If this houſe of commons were indeed ſomething more than a fiction, I ſhould myſelf retract a little of my wonted admiration. A houſe of commons, fairly and equally repreſenting all the people of England, never did exiſt. But if it were not a mere fiction, if it were a reality, I ſhould ſtill be obliged to yield ſomething to the following remark, viz. that a houſe of commons ſuppoſes ſome ſuperior houſe, of nobles, [147]or ſome ſuch name. But where any order of men exiſts, of ſeparate claims and of ſeparate intereſts from the people, and whoſe ſeparate characters give them a kind of ſacred ſuperiority over the people, liberty may perhaps be endangered. It has been aſſerted, whether juſtly I do not determine, that ſuch a houſe as that of a houſe of commons exiſts in no free ſtate.

I ſhall here make a ſew remarks on nobility. I will repeat what an ancient writer ſays: "In no ſtate," ſays he, "are the nobles favourable to the peo⯑ple: equals are favourable to equals." And elſe⯑where he obſerves, in every part of the earth, the go⯑vernment of the nobles is inconſiſtent with that of the people: and he gives his reaſons for the oppſi⯑tion of the two orders. A French writer, perhaps, had his eye on theſe paſſages, when he ſaid, the Eng⯑liſh nobility baried themſelves with Charles I. under the ruins of the throne. He adds, "they think it an honour to obey a king, but conſider it as the loweſt infamy to ſnare the power with the people.

It might be eaſily ſhewn, that a patent nobility made no part of the old Engliſh government, or of the other governments of Europe. Xenophon and Monteſquieu were friends, the one to ariſtocracy, the other to monarchy, yet nobody ever more expoſed them. It is of a government, where an hereditary patent nobility is ſaid to balance the two extremes of monarchy and democracy, that Blackſtone obſerves, "It creates and preſerves that gradual ſcale of dig⯑nity, which proceeds from the beggar to the prince, riſing like a pyramid from a broad foundation, and diminiſhing to a point as it riſes. It is this aſcend⯑ing and contracting proportion, that adds ſtability to any government; for when the departure is ſudden from one extreme to another, we may pronounce that ſtate to be precarious." This is beautiful, flattering alſo to national vanity, but it is theoretical. The aſcending and contracting proportion is ſeen among moſt of the American ſtates, in a houſe of repreſenta⯑tives [148]choſen by the people, in a ſenate appointed by the repreſentatives, and in a preſident, or governor, appointed mediately or immediately by the people: yet the Americans have no nobles. The ſyſtem of ariſtocracy, they think, tends to weakneſs. It diſ⯑ſolves, they ſay, the ties of families by the law of pri⯑mogeniture; exhauſts the public money in places for the younger branches of noble families; keeps the orders of ſociety in a kind of dwarſiſh ſtate, by per⯑petuating the maxims of a barbarous age; weakens the legiſlature by advancing men to legiſlation, whoſe private regards abſorb public ſpirit, and who are ir⯑reſponſible to the nation; and, by dividing man from man, enfeebles the order of human beings. Who can tell where the tide of contingencies will flow? France, in whoſe political fabric nobility did indeed ſeem to form the great Corinthian capital, ſaw it neceſſary to remove it, to raiſe a government of juſtice.

"I have alſo admitted that an order of nobles might exiſt without a patent nobility. I have not ſaid that it is neceſſary; or if neceſſary, that an hereditary nobility is. Its great uſe may be thought to conſiſt in forming a kind of ſenate to give bias and conſiſtency to other powers, and to produce a harmony in ſtates; a ſenate has even been thought eſſential to a republic. France, we have been told, has left out of her political fabric the pillar of ſtrength. "Never," ſays a writer, "before this time was heard of a body politic without ſuch a council;" yet Geneva, in the infancy of the republic, was ſuch: a more ſcientific writer than Mr. Burke, though he elſewhere ſays, that a king and peo⯑ple may exiſt without a ſenate, yet does, in fact, ſay, "there never was a good government in the world, that did not conſiſt of the three ſimple ſpecies, of monarchy, ariſtocracy, and democracy."

"Yet France has thought otherwiſe. She thinks, that by breaking the diſtinctions between man and man, ſhe ſtrengthens ſociety, and makes the public force permanent by uniting it in a national aſſembly. [149]I decide nothing on the truth of theſe ſentiments: I propoſe theſe queſtions:—Was it not the exiſtence of the two orders of patricians and plebeians, that pro⯑moted all the diſorders of the Roman government, Were not the ſenatus conſulta and the plebiſcita fre⯑quently little elſe than excluſive decrees for particular intereſts? And while the patricians were encroach⯑ing on the plebeians, the tribunes, called to the aid of the plebeians, became in their turn factious dema⯑gogues. Amid private regards was not public li⯑berty unknown? Was it not a ſenate that deſtroyed the liberties of Geneva?"

But to return to the Houſe of commons. Whom, or what does a houſe of commons repreſent?—not al⯑ways rational beings, men and women; but for the greater part, property; and property of a particular kind. Property, though ever ſo large, copyhold, leaſehold, or perſonal, cannot be repreſented, but free⯑hold eſtates only, poſſeſſed by men. Females, though poſſeſſed of 100,000 l, a year, either in land or money, have no repreſentatives. Since the reign of Henry VI. none can be electors of knights of the ſhire, but men poſſeſſed of forty ſhillings a year. But how few poor men have freeholds! Some pariſhes conſiſting of ſeveral hundred perſons, perhaps, have not a ſingle freeholder. Some of the largeſt and moſt wealthy towns in England have not a ſingle repreſentative. I have not yet ſpoken of boroughs. But our theory be⯑gins to vaniſh!

If the reader can avoid ſmiling at the following facts, I ſhall think him fimple; if he feel no indig⯑nation, I ſhall think him ſomething worſe.

The borough of Midhurſt in Suſſex, it is well known, contains not a ſingle houſe, and yet ſends two members to Parliament. The right of election is in one hundred and twenty burgage-holds; the former ſituation of which is marked out by a ſtone on each ſide.—The borough of Old Sarum, in Wiltſhire ſends two members to parliament; yet there is but one or [150]two houſes ſtanding. The members are choſen by a bailiff, and ſix burgeſſes, appointed by Lord Camel⯑ford, the lord of the borough, and entruſted by him with burgage-ſcites. The borough of Gatton and Caſtle-Riſing have each two houſes only, and two re⯑preſentatives each.

The tenures of Midhurſt, I would obſerve, make no part of the town of Midhurſt. They were the property of the late Lord Montague, who, at the time of the election, made a temporary aſſignment of a part of them, either to ſome of his domeſtics or friends, in order to have thoſe members returned that he ſhould nominate. The truſtees of the eſtates of the preſent lord ſold theſe burgage-holds to the earl of Egremont for 40,000 guineas, whoſe brothers were returned for this borough the laſt general election.

Haſtings, in Suſſex, before the [...]aſſing of Mr. Crewe's bill, was entirely at the diſpoſal of the trea⯑ſury. The number of voters was [...]out twenty, all of whom had places under government, or were pro⯑vided for ſome other way. This is the borough I think, in the management of which a Mr. Collins ac⯑quired a moſt ſplendid fortune, and made ample pro⯑viſion for five co-heireſſes, his daughters. The bo⯑rough of Haſtings, I think, is ſtill in the management of government. Theſe are what are called rotten bo⯑roughs.

I have already hinted that ſome large towns, and theſe abounding with manufactories, have not a ſingle repreſentative: and even where property is repreſented, it is not repreſented equally. The county of Mid⯑dleſex, in 1693, paid 80 parts of the land tax, and in 1697, 185 of the ſubſidy, and ſent only eight mem⯑bers to parliament; while Cornwall paid but eight parts of the land tax, and five only of the ſubſidy and yet ſent forty-four. As to the rotten boroughs, of ſome of which I have juſt ſpoken, they repreſent nobody; they are private property. The perſons who are choſen for them repreſent nobody, yet they have [151]all the power of repreſentatives: a uſe alſo they cer⯑tainly have; they ſtrengthen the influence of the crown; and if a man have money enough to purchaſe a borough, and meanneſs enough to obey the beck of the miniſter, we know the reſt.—Thus it is, that per⯑ſons, who were never appointed by the people, make laws......

The houſe of repreſentatives amounts to between five and ſix hundred members; the majority of which are appointed by voters not exceeding twelve thou⯑ſand; the nation conſiſts of ſeven or eight million: ſo that the perſons who do actually give a vote for mem⯑bers are, comparatively, a ſmall part of the community. The Duke of Richmond, whoſe ſtatement I here nearly follow, once underſtood political calculation; and I am perſuaded, it is only what is ſuppoſed to be the danger of the experiment, that makes him fearful of the rule of practice. Mr. Paine obſerves, that not above one in ſeven is repreſented; this relates to repre⯑ſentatives, actually choſen: for when all the circum⯑ſtances taken into the account are conſidered, one writer aſſerts, that the walls of St. Stephen's Chapel have not been viſited by ſix members in any par⯑liament, elected, appointed, or delegated by their con⯑ſtituents; and another, that not one perſon in five houſand is repreſented. But leaving theſe writers, I aſk again, Where is our houſe of commons? Some call it a ſtubborn ariſtocracy. Where is our houſe of repreſentatives?—Some call it a fiction. Our the⯑ory they ſay is gone. Be this as it may, the poor man is left to pay taxes.

ON THE LIBERTY OF THE PRESS.
From Gurney's Edition of the ſaid Trial.

EVERY man, not intending to miſlead and to confound, but ſeeking to enlighten others with what his own reaſon and conſcience, however erro⯑neouſly, dictate to him as truth, may addreſs himſelf to the univerſal reaſon of a whole nation, either upon the ſubject of governments in general, or upon that of our own particular country: he may analyſe the principles of its conſtitution, point out its errors and defects, examine and publiſh its corruptions, warn his fellow-citizens againſt their ruinous conſequences, and exert his whole faculties, in pointing out the moſt advantageous changes in eſtabliſhments, which he conſiders to be radically defective, or ſliding from their object by abuſe. All this every ſubject of this country has a right to do, if he contemplates only what he thinks its happineſs, and but ſeeks to change the public mind by the conviction which flows from reaſonings dictated by conſcience.

If, indeed, he writes what he does not think; if, contemplating the miſery of others, he wickedly con⯑demns what his own underſtanding approves; or, even admitting his real diſguſt againſt the govern⯑ment, or its corruptions; if he calumniates living ma⯑giſtrates; or holds out to individuals, that they have a right to run before the public mind in their con⯑duct; that they may oppoſe by contumacy or force what private reaſon only diſapproves; that they may diſobey the law, becauſe their judgment condemns it; or reſiſt the public will, becauſe they honeſtly wiſh to change it; he is then a criminal upon every principle of rational policy, as well as upon the im⯑memorial [169]precedents of Engliſh juſtice; becauſe ſuch a perſon ſeeks to diſunite individuals from their duty to the whole, and excites to overt acts of miſconduct in a part of the community, inſtead of endeavouring to change, by the impulſe of reaſon, the univerſal aſcent which, in this and in every country, conſtitutes the law for all.

Gentlemen, I ſay, in the name of Thomas Paine, and in his words as author of the Rights of Man, as written in the very volume that is charged with ſeek⯑ing the deſtruction of property,

‘The end of all political aſſociations is, The pre⯑ſervation of the Rights of Man, which rights are Liberty, Property, and Security; that the nation is the ſource of all ſovereignty derived from it: the right of property being ſecured and inviolable, 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.’

Theſe are undoubtedly the rights of man—the rights for which all governments are eſtabliſhed—and the only rights Mr. Paine contends for; but which he thinks (no matter whether right or wrong) are better to be ſecured by a republican conſtitution than by the forms of the Engliſh government. He in⯑ſtructs me to admit, that, when government is once conſtituted, no individuals, without rebellion, can withdraw their obedience from it—that all attempts to excite them to it are highly criminal, for the moſt obvious reaſons of policy and juſtice—that no⯑thing ſhort of the Will of a whole people can change or effect the rule by which a nation is to be governed —and that no private opinion, however honeſtly ini⯑micable to the forms or ſubſtance of the law, can juſtify reſiſtance to its authority, while it remains in force. The author of the Rights of Man not only admits the truth of all this doctrine, but he conſents to be convicted, and I alſo conſent for him, unleſs his Work ſhall be found ſtudiouſly and painfully to in⯑culcate [170]culcate theſe great principles of government, which it is charged to have been written to deſtroy. Let me not, therefore, be ſuſpected to be contending, that it is lawful to write a book pointing out defects in the Engliſh government, and exciting individuals to de⯑ſtroy its ſanctions, and to refuſe obedience. But, on the other hand, I do contend, that it is lawful to ad⯑dreſs the Engliſh nation on theſe momentous ſubjects, for had it not been for this unalienable right (thanks be to God and our fathers for eſtabliſhing it), how ſhould we have had this Conſtitution which we ſo loudly boaſt of? If, in the march of the human mind, no man could have gone before the eſtabliſhments of the time he lived in, how could our eſtabliſhment, by reiterated changes, have become what it is? If no man could have awakened the public mind to errors and abuſes in our government, how could it have paſſed on from ſtage to ſtage, through reformation and revolution, ſo as to have arrived from barbariſm to ſuch a pitch of happineſs and perfection, that the Attorney General conſiders it as profanation to touch it any further, or to look for any future amendment.

In this manner power has reaſoned in every age— Government, in its own eſtimation, has been at all times a ſyſtem of perfection; but a free preſs has ex⯑amined and detected its errors, and the people have happily reformed them: this freedom has alone made our government what it is, and alone can preſerve it; and therefore, under the banners of that freedom, to⯑day I ſtand up to defend Thomas Paine. But how, alas! ſhall this taſk be accompliſhed? How may I expect from you what human nature has not made man for the performance of? How may I addreſs your reaſons, or aſk them to pauſe, amidſt the torrent of prejudice which has hurried away the public mind on the ſubject you are to judge?

Was any Engliſhman ever ſo brought as a criminal before an Engliſh Court of Juſtice?—If I were to aſk you, Gentlemen of the Jury, what is the choiceſt [171]fruit that grows upon the tree of Engliſh Liberty, you would anſwer, SECURITY UNDER THE LAW. If I were to aſk the whole people of England, the return they looked for at the hands of Government, for the burdens under which they bend to ſupport it, I ſhould ſtill be anſwered, SECURITY UNDER THE LAW; or, in other words, an impartial adminiſtration of juſtice. So ſacred, therefore, has the Freedom of Trial been ever held in England; ſo anxiouſly does juſtice guard againſt every poſſible bias in her path, that if the pub⯑lic mind has been locally agitated upon any ſubject in judgment, the forum is either changed or the trial poſtponed. The circulation of any paper that brings, or which can be ſuppoſed to bring, prejudice, or even well-founded knowledge, within the reach of a Bri⯑tiſh tribunal, on the ſpur of an occaſion, is not only highly criminal, but defeats itſelf, by leading to put of the trial which its object was to pervert. On this principle, his Lordſhip will permit me to remind him, that on the trial of the Dean of St. Aſaph, for a libel, or rather, when he was brought to trial, the circulation of books by a ſociety favourable to his defence, was held by the noble Lord, as Chief Juſtice of Cheſter, to be a reaſon for not trying the cauſe; although they contained no matter relative to the Dean, nor to the object of his trial; being only ex⯑tracts from ancient authors of high reputation, on the general Rights of Juries to conſider the innocence as well as the guilt of the accuſed; yet ſtill, as the re⯑collection of theſe rights was preſſed forward, with a view to effect the proceedings, to guard the principle the proceedings were poſtponed.

Is the Defendant then to be the only exception to theſe admirable proviſions? Is the Engliſh law to judge him, ſtript of the armour with which its uni⯑verſal juſtice encircles all others? Shall we, in the very act of judging him for detracting from the En⯑gliſh government, furniſh him with ample matter for juſt reprobation, inſtead of detraction? Has not his [172]cauſe been prejudged through a thouſand channels? Has not the work before you been daily publicly re⯑vived, and his perſon held up to deriſion and re⯑proach? Has not the public mind been excited, by crying down the very phraſe and idea of the Rights of Man? Nay, have not aſſociations of gentlemen, I ſpeak it with regret, becauſe I am perſuaded, from what I know of ſome of them, that they, amongſt them at leaſt, thought they were ſerving the public; yet have they not, in utter contempt and ignorance of that Conſtitution of which they declare themſelves to be the guardians, publiſhed the groſſeſt attacks upon the Defendant? Have they not, even while the cauſe has been ſtanding here in the paper for im⯑mediate trial, publiſhed a direct proteſt againſt the very work now before you; advertiſing in the ſame paper, though under the general deſcription of ſe⯑ditious papers, a reward on the conviction of any perſon who ſhould dare to ſell the book itſelf, to which their own publication was an anſwer?—The Attorney General has ſpoken of a forced circulation of this Work; but how have theſe prejudging papers been circulated? We all know how: they have been thrown into our carriages in every ſtreet; they have met us at every turnpike; and they lie in the areas of all our houſes. To complete the triumph of prejudice, that High Tribunal, of which I have the honour to be a member (my learned friends know what I ſay to be true), has been drawn into this vor⯑tex of ſlander; and ſome of its members, for I do not ſpeak of the Houſe itſelf, have thrown the weight of their ſtations into the ſame ſcale.

By all means I maintain that this cauſe has been prejudged.

It may be ſaid, that I have made no motion to put off the trial for theſe cauſes, and that courts of themſelves take no cognizance of what paſſes elſe⯑where, without facts laid before them. Gentlemen, I know that I ſhould have had equal juſtice from that [173]quarter, if I had brought myſelf within the rule. But when ſhould I have been better in the preſent aſpect of things? And therefore I only remind you of all theſe hardſhips, that you may recollect that your judg⯑ment is to proceed upon that alone which meets you here, upon the evidence in the cauſe, and not upon ſuggeſtions deſtructive of every principle of juſtice.

Having diſpoſed of theſe foreign prejudices, I hope you will as little regard ſome arguments that have been offered to you in court. The letter which has been ſo repeatedly preſſed upon you, you ought to diſmiſs even from your recollection; I have already put it out of the queſtion, as having been written long ſubſequent to the Book, and as being a libel on the King, which no part of the information charges, and which may hereafter be proſecuted as a diſtinct offence. I conſider that letter beſides, and indeed have always beard it treated, as a forgery, contrived to injure the merits of the cauſe, and to embarraſs me perſon⯑ally in its defence. I have a right ſo to conſider it, becauſe it is unſupported by any thing ſimilar at an earlier period. The Defendant's whole deportment, previous to the publication, has been wholly unexcep⯑tionable; he properly deſired to be given up as the author of the Book, if any enquiry ſhould take place concerning it; and he is not affected in evidence, directly or indirectly, with any illegal or ſuſpicious conduct; not even with having uttered an indiſcreet or counting expreſſion, nor with any one matter or thing, inconſiſtent with the duty of the beſt ſubject in England. His opinions indeed were not adverſe to our ſyſtem; but I maintain that OPINION is free, and that CONDUCT alone is amenable to the law.

You are next to judge of the author's mind and intention, by the modes and extent of the circu⯑lation of his work. The Firſt Part of the Rights of Man, Mr. Attorney General tells you, he did not proſecute, although it was in circulation through the country for a year and a half together, becauſe it [174]ſeems it circulated only amongſt what he ſtiles the judi⯑cious part of the public, who poſſeſſed in their capa⯑cities and experience an antidote to the poiſon; but that with regard to the Second Part now before you, its circulation had been forced into every corner of ſociety; had been printed and reprinted for cheapneſs even upon whited brown paper, and had crept into the very nurſeries of children, as a wrapper for their ſweetmeats.

In anſwer to this ſtatement, which after all ſtand only upon Mr Attorney General's own aſſertion, un⯑ſupported by any kind of proof (no witneſs having proved the author's perſonal interference with the ſale), I ſtill maintain, that if he had the moſt anxi⯑ouſly promoted it, the queſtion would remain exactly the ſame: the queſtion would ſtill be, whether at the time when Paine compoſed his work, and promoted the moſt extenſive purchaſe of it, he believed or diſ⯑believed what he had written, and whether he con⯑templated the happineſs or the miſery of the Engliſh nation, to which it is addreſſed; and which ever of theſe intentions may be evidenced to your judgments upon reading the Book itſelf, I confeſs I am utterly at a loſs to comprehend how a writer can be ſuppoſed to mean ſomething different from what he has written, by an axiety (common I belive to all authors) that his work ſhould be generally read.

Remember, I am not aſking your opinions of the doctrines themſelves, you know them already pretty viſibly ſince I began to addreſs you; but I ſhall ap⯑peal not only to you, but to thoſe who, without our leave, will hereafter judge without appeal of all that we are doing to day; whether, upon the matter which I haſten to lay before you, you can refuſe in juſtice to pronounce, that from his education—from the accidents and habits of his life—from the time and occaſion of the publication—from the circum⯑ſtances attending it—and from every line and letter of the work itsſelf, and all his other writings before and even ſince, his conſcience and underſtanding (no [175]matter whether erroneouſly or not) were deeply and ſolemnly impreſſed with the matters contained in his Book,—that he addreſſed it to the reaſon of the nati⯑on at large, and not to the paſſions of individuals, and that in the iſſue of its influence, he contemplated only what appeared to him (though it may not to us) to be the intereſt and happineſs of England, and of the whole human race. In drawing the one or the other of theſe concluſions, the Book ſtands firſt in order, and it ſhall now ſpeak for itſelf.

Gentlemen, the whole of it is in evidence before you, the particular parts arraigned having only been read by my conſent, upon the preſumption that on retiring from the court, you would careſully com⯑pare them with the context, and all the parts with the whole viewed together. You cannot indeed do juſtice without it. The moſt common letter, even in the ordinary courſe of buſineſs, cannot be read in a cauſe to prove an obligation for twenty ſhillings with⯑out the whole being read, that the writer's meaning may be ſeen without deception. But in a criminal charge of only four pages and a half, out of a work containing nearly two hundred, you cannot, with even the appearance of common juſtice, pronounce a judgment without the moſt deliberate and cautious compariſon. I obſerve, that the noble and learned Judge confirms me in this obſervation. But if any given part of a work be legally explanatory, of every other part of it, the preface, a fortiori, is the moſt ma⯑terial; becauſe the preface is the author's own key to his writing: it is there that he takes the reader by the hand, and introduces him to his ſubject: it is there that the ſpirit and intention of the whole is laid before him by way of prologue. A preface is meant by the author as a clue to ignorant or careleſs readers: the author ſays by it, to every man who chooſes to begin where he ought—look at my plan—attend to my diſtinctions—mark the purpoſe and limitations of the matter I lay before you.

THE DISTRESSES OF THE POOR, Exemplified in the LIFE OF A PRIVATE SOLDIER.
From the Citizen of the World. By Dr. Goldſmith.

THE misfortunes of the great, my friend, are held up to engage our attention, are enlarged upon in tones of declamation, and the world is called upon to [195]gaze at the noble ſufferers; they have at once the comfort of admiration and pity.

Yet where is the magnanimity of bearing misfortunes, when the whole world is looking on? Men in ſuch [...]hances can act bravely even from motives of vanity. He only who, in the vale of obſcurity, can [...]ave a ſvertity, who, without friends to encourage, as quaintances to pity, or even without hope to allevi⯑ate his diſtreſſes, can behave with tranquility and in⯑diference, is truly great; whether peaſant or cour⯑tier, be deſerves admiration, and ſhould be held up for our imitation and reſpect.

The miſeries of the poor are, however, entirely diſregarded, though ſome undergo more real hard⯑ſhips in one day than the great in their whole lives. It is indeed inconceivable what difficulties the meaneſt Engliſh ſailor or ſoldier endures without murmuring or regret. Every day to him is a day of miſery, and yet he bears his hard fate without repining.

With what indignation do I hear the heroes of tra⯑gedy complain of misfortunes and hardſhips, whoſe greateſt calamity is founded in arrogance and pride. Their ſevereſt diſtreſſes are pleaſures, compared to what many of the adventuring poor every day ſuſtain, without murmuring. Theſe may eat, drink and ſleep, have ſlaves to attend them, and are ſure of ſuſtenence for life, while many of their fellow-crea⯑tures are obliged to wander, without a friend to com⯑fort or to aſſiſt them, find enmity in every law, and are too poor to obtain even juſtice.

I have been led into theſe reflections, from acci⯑dentally meeting ſome days ago, a poor fellow beg⯑ging at one of the outlets of the town, with a wooden leg. I was curious to learn what had reduced him to his preſent ſituation; and after giving him what I thought proper, deſired to know the hiſtory of his life and misfortunes, and the manner in which he was reduced to his preſent diſtreſs. The diſabled ſoldier, for ſuch he was, with an intrepidity truly Britiſh, [196]leaning on his crutch, put himſelf into an attitude to comply with my requeſt, and gave me his hiſtory as follows:

'As for misfortunes, Sir, I can't pretend to have gone through more than others. Except the loſs of my limb, and my being obliged to beg, I don't know any reaſon, thank heaven, that I have to complain: there are ſome that have loſe both legs and an eye; but, thank heaven, it is not quite ſo bad with me.

'My father was a labourer in the country, and died when I was five years old; ſo I was put upon the pariſh. As he had been a wandering ſort of a man, the pariſhioners were not able to tell to what pariſh I belonged, or where I was born; ſo they ſent me to another pariſh, and that pariſh ſent me to a third; till at h [...] it was thought I be longed to no pariſh at all. At length, however, they ſixed me. I had ſome diſ⯑poſition to be a ſcholar, and had actually learned my letters; but the maſter of the workhouſe put me to buſineſs, as ſoon as I was able to handle a mallet.

'Here I lived an eaſy kind of a life for five years. I only wrought ten hours in the day, and had my meat and drink provided for my labour. It is true, I was not ſuffered to ſtir far from the houſe, for fear I ſhould run away; but what of that, I had the liberty of the whole houſe, and the yard before the door, and that was enough for me.

'I was next bound out to a farmer, where I was up both early and late, but I eat and drank well, and liked my buſineſs well enough, till he died. Be⯑ing then obliged to provide for myſelf, I was reſolved to go and ſeek my fortune. Thus I lived and went from town to town, working when I could get em⯑ployment, and ſtarving when I could get none, and might have lived ſo ſtill; but happening one day to go through a field belonging to a magiſtrate, I ſpy'd a hare croſſing the path juſt before me. I believe the devil put it in my head to fling my ſtick at it: well, what will you have on't? I kill'd the hare, and was [197]bringing it away in triumph, when the juſtice him⯑ſelf; met me: he called me a villain, and collering me, deſired I would give an account of myſelf. I began immediately to give a full account of all that I knew of my breed, ſeed and generation: but though I gave a very long account, the juſtice ſaid, I could give no account of myſelf; ſo I was indicted and found guilty of being poor, and ſent to Newgate, in or⯑der to be tranſported to the plantations.

'People may ſay this and that of being in jail; but for my part, I found Newgate as agreeable a place as ever I was in, in all my life. I had my belly full to eat and drink, and did no work; but alas, this kind of life was too good to laſt for ever! I was taken out of priſon, after five months, put on board of a ſhip, and ſent off with two hundred more. Our paſ⯑ſage was but indifferent, for we were all confined in the hold, and died very faſt, for want of ſweet air and proviſions; but for my part, I did not want meat, becauſe I had a fever all the way; providence was kind when proviſions grew ſhort, it took away my deſire of eating. When we came on ſhore, we were ſold to the Planters. I was bound for ſeven years; and as I was no ſcholar, for I had forgot my letters, I was obliged to work among the negroes; and ſerved out my time as in duty bound to do.

'When my time was expired, I worked my paſſage home, and glad I was to ſee Old England again, becauſe I loved my Country. O Liberty, Liberty, Liberty! that is the property of every En⯑gliſhman, and I will die in it's defence: I was afraid, however, that I ſhould be indicted for a vagabond once more, ſo did not much care to go into the coun⯑try, but kept about town, and did little jobs when I get them. I was very happy in this manner for ſome time, till one evening, coming home from work, two men knocked me down, and then defired me to ſtand ſtill. They belonged to a preſs gang; I was carried before the juſtice, and as I could give no ac⯑count [198]count of my ſelf (that was the thing that always hob⯑bled me), I had my choice left, whether to go on board a man of war, or liſt for a ſoldier; I choſe to be a ſoldier, and in this part of a gentleman I ſerved two campaigns, was at the battles in Flanders, and received but one wound through the breaſt, which is troubleſome to this day.

'When the peace came on, I was diſcharged; and as I could not work, becauſe my wound was ſome⯑times painful, I liſted for a landſman in the Eaſt India Company's ſervice. I here fought the French in ſix pitched battles; and verily believe, that if I could read or write, our Captain would have given me promo⯑tion, and made me a corporal. But that was not my good fortune, I ſoon fell ſick, and when I became good for nothing, got leave to return home again with forty pounds in my pocket, which I ſaved in the ſer⯑vice. This was at the beginning of the preſent war, ſo I hoped to be ſet on ſhore, and to have the pleaſure of ſpending my money; but the government wanted men, and I was preſſed again before ever I could ſet foot on ſhore.

'The boatſwain found me, as he ſaid, an obſti⯑nate fellow: he ſwore that I underſtood my buſineſs perfectly well, but that I pretended ſickneſs merely to be idle: God knows, I knew nothing of ſea buſi⯑neſs! He beat me without conſidering what he was about. But ſtill my forty pounds was ſome comfort to me under every beating; the money was my com⯑fort, and the money I might have had to this day, but that our ſhip was taken by the French, and ſo I loſt it all!

'Our crew was carried into a French priſon, and many of them died, becauſe they were not uſed to live in a jaiI; but for my part it was nothing to me, for I was ſeaſoned. One night however, as I was ſleeping on the bed of boards, with a warm blanket about me, (for I always loved to lie well) I was awak⯑ed by the boatſwain, who had a dark lanthorn in his [199]hand. Jack, ſays he to me, will you knock out the French centry's brains? I don't care, ſays I, ſtriving to keep myſelf awake, if I lend a hand. Then follow me, ſays he, and I hope we ſhall do buſineſs. So up I got, and tied my blanket, which was all the cloaths. I had, about my middle, and went with him to fight the Frenchmen: we had no arms; but one Engliſhman is able to beat five French at any time; ſo we went down to the door; where both the centries were poſt⯑ed, and ruſhing upon them, ſeized their arms in a moment, and knocked them down. From thence nine of us ran together to the Quay, and ſeizing the firſt boat we met, got out of the harbour, and put to ſea. We had not been here three days, before we were taken by an Engliſh privateer, who was glad of ſo many good hands, and we conſented to run our chance. However, we had not ſo much luck as we expected. In three days we fell in with a French man of War of forty guns, while we had but twen⯑ty-three; ſo to it we went. The fight laſted for three hours, and I verily believe we ſhould have taken the Frenchman, but unfortunately we loſt almoſt all our men, juſt as we were going to get the victory. I was once more in the power of the French, and I believe it would have gone hard with me, had I been brought back to my old jail in Breſt; but by good fortnue we were re-taken, and carried to England once more.

I had almoſt forgot to tell you, that in this laſt en⯑gagement I was wounded in two places; I loſt four fingers of the left hand, and my leg was cut off. Had I the good fortune to have loſt my leg and the uſe of my hand on board a king's ſhip, and not a privateer, I ſhould have been entitled to cloathing and maintenance during the reſt of my life, but that was not my chance; one man is born with a ſilver ſpoon in his mouth, and another a wooden ladle. However, bleſſed be God, I enjoy good health, and have no enemy in this [200]world that I know of, but the French and the juſtice of peace.'

Thus ſaying, he limped off, leaving my friend and me in admiration of his intrepidity and content.

ON KINGS.
From Godwin's Enquiry concerning Political Juſtice.

MONARCHY is ſo unnatural an inſtitution, that mankind have at all times ſtrongly ſuſpected it was unfriendly to their happineſs. The power of truth upon important topies is ſuch, that it may rather be ſaid to be obſcured than obliterated; and falſhood has ſcarcely ever been ſo ſucceſsful, as not to have had a ref [...]eſs and powerful antagoniſt in the heart of its vo⯑taries. The man who with difficulty earns his ſcanty ſubſiſtence, cannot behold the oſtentatious ſplendor of a king, without being viſited by ſome ſenſe of injuſtice. He inevitably queſtions in his mind the utility of an officer, whoſe ſervices are hired at ſo enormous a price. If he confider the ſubject with any degree of accuracy, he is led to perceive, and that with ſuffici⯑ent ſurpriſe, that a king is nothing more than a com⯑mon mortal, exceeded by many, and equalled by more in every requiſite of ſtrength, capacity, and virtue, He feels therefore, that nothing can be more ground⯑leſs and unjuſt, than the ſuppoſing that one ſuch man as this is the fitteſt and moſt competent inſtrument for regulating the affairs of nations.

Theſe reflections are ſo unavoidable, that Kings themſelves have often been aware of the danger to their imaginary happineſs with which they are preg⯑nant. They have ſometimes been alarmed with the progreſs of thinking, and oftener regarded the eaſe and proſperity of their ſubjects as a fource of terror [201]and apprehenſion. They juſtly conſider their functions as a ſort of public exhibition, the ſucceſs of which depends upon the credulity of the ſpectators, and which good ſenſe and courage would ſpeedily bring to a termination. Hence the well known maxims of mo⯑narchial government, that eaſe is the parent of rebel⯑lion, and that it is neceſſary to keep the people in a ſtate of poverty and endurance, in order to render them ſubmiſſive. Hence it has been the perpetual com⯑plaint of deſpotiſm, that "the reſtive knaves are over⯑run with eaſe, and plenty ever is the nurſe of faction^*." Hence it has been the leſſon perpetually read to mo⯑narchs: "Render your ſubjects proſperous, and they will ſpeedily refuſe to labour; they will become ſtub⯑born, proud, unſubmiſſive to the yoke, and ripe for revolt. It is impotence and miſery that alone will render them ſupple, and prevent them from rebelling againſt the dictates of authority^†."

ON CIVIL LIBERTY, AND THE PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT.

FROM what has been ſaid it is obvious, that all Civil Government, as far as it can be denomi⯑nated free, is the creature of the people. It originates with them. It is conducted under their direction; and has in view nothing but their happineſs. All its different forms are no more than ſo many different modes in which they chuſe to direct their affairs, and to ſecure the quiet enjoyment of their rights.—In every free ſtate every man is his own legiſlator. All taxes are free-gifts for public ſervices.—All laws are particular proviſions or regulations eſtabliſhed by COMMON CONSENT for gaining protection and ſafe⯑ty. — And all Magiſtrates are truſtees or deputies for carrying theſe regulations into execution.

Liberty, therefore, is too imperfectly defined when it is ſaid to be "a Government by LAWS, and not by MEN." If the laws are made by one man, or a junto of men in a ſtate, and not by COMMON CON⯑SENT, a government by them does not differ from ſlavery. In this caſe it would be a contradiction in terms to ſay, that the ſtate governs itſelf.

From hence it is obvious that Civil Liberty, in the moſt perfect degree, can be enjoyed only in ſmall ſtates, where every member is capable of giving his ſuffrage in perſon, and of being choſen into public offices. When a ſtate becomes ſo numerous, or when the different parts of it are removed to ſuch diſtances from one another, as to render this impracticable, a diminution of liberty neceſſarily ariſes. There are, however, in theſe circumſtances, methods by which ſuch near approaches may be made to perfect liberty as ſhall anſwer all the purpoſes of government, and at the ſame time ſecure every right of human nature.

[206]Tho' all the members of a ſtate ſhould not be ca⯑pable of giving their ſuffrages on public meaſures, in⯑dividually and perſonally, they may do this by the ap⯑pointment of ſubſtitutes or repreſentatives. They may entruſt the powers of legiſlation, ſubject to ſuch re⯑ſtrictions as they ſhall think neceſſary, with any num⯑ber of delegates; and whatever can be done by ſuch delegates within the limits of their truſt, may be con⯑ſidered as done by the united voice and counſel of the community.—In this method a free government may be eſtabliſhed in the largeſt ſtate; and it is con⯑ceivable, that by regulations of this kind, any num⯑ber of ſtates might be ſubjected to a ſcheme of go⯑vernment, that would exclude the deſolations of war, and produce univerſal peace and order.

Let us think here of what may be practicable in this way with reſpect to Europe in particular.—While it continues divided, as it is at preſent, into a great number of independent kingdoms, whoſe intereſts are continually claſhing, it is impoſſible but that diſ⯑putes will often ariſe, which muſt end in war and carnage. It would be no remedy to this evil to make one of theſe ſtates ſupreme over the reſt; and to give it an abſolute plenitude of power to ſuperintend and controul them. This would be to ſubject all the ſtates to the arbitrary diſcretion of one, and to eſta⯑bliſh an ignominious ſlavery, not poſſible to be long endured. It would, therefore, be a remedy worſe than the diſeaſe; nor is it poſſible it ſhould be ap⯑proved by any mind that has not loſt every idea of civil liberty. On the contrary.—Let every ſtate, with reſpect to all its internal concerns, be continued independent of all the reſt; and let a general con⯑federacy be formed by the appointment of a SENATE, conſiſting of repreſentatives from all the different ſtates. Let this SENATE poſſeſs tbe power of ma⯑naging all the common concerns of the united ſtates, and of judging and deciding between them, as a common arbiter or umpire, in all diſputes; having, [207]at the ſame time, under its direction, the common force of the ſtates to ſupport its deciſions. In theſe circumſtances, each ſeperate ſtate would be ſecure againſt the interference of foreign power in its private concerns, and, therefore, would poſſeſs liberty; and at the ſame time it would be ſecure againſt all op⯑preſſion and inſult from every neighbouring ſtate.— Thus might the ſcattered force and abilities of a whole continent be gathered into one point; all liti⯑gations ſettled as they roſe; univerſal peace eſta⯑bliſhed; and nation prevented from any more lifting up a ſword againſt nation.

POPULAR ASSEMBLIES UNDERSTAND ON⯑LY THEIR OWN INTERESTS.
From Harrington's Oceana.

A Popular Aſſembly has no mean, but is either the wiſeſt in nature, or has no brains at all. When affairs go upon no other than the public in⯑tereſt [213]this having no other intereſt to follow, nor eyes to ſee withal, is the wiſeſt council: but ſuch ways are deſtructive to a prince, and they will have no nay. The congregation of Iſrael, when REHO⯑BOAM would not hearken to their advice, depoſed him: and we know what popular councils, ſo ſoon as they came to ſufficient power, did in England. If a prince put a popular council from this ward, he does a great matter, and to little purpoſe; for they under⯑ſtand nothing elſe but themſelves. Wherefore the Kings of France and of Spain have diſſolved all ſuch aſſemblies. It is true, where a prince is not ſtrong enough to get money out of them but by their con⯑ſent, they are neceſſary; yet then they are not purely of advice and diſpatch, but ſhare in the government, and he cannot be meddling with their purſes, but they will be meddling with his laws. The Senate is of ſieter uſe for a prince; and yet, except he has the way of TIBERIUS, but a tickliſh piece, as appears by MAXIMINUS, who was deſtroyed by PUPIENUS and BALBINUS, captains ſet up againſt him by this order. To go to the root: Theſe things are not otherwiſe in prudence or choice than by direction of the ba⯑lance; where this is popular, no remedy but the prince muſt be adviſed by the people, which if the late king would have endured, the monarchy might have ſubſiſted ſomewhat longer: but while the ba⯑lance was Ariſtocratical, as during the great eſtates of the nobility and the clergy, we find not the people to have been great or wiſe counſellors. In ſum, if a king governs by a popular council, or a houſe of commons, the throne will not ſtand long: if he go⯑verns by a ſenate, or a houſe of lords, let him never fear the throne, but have a care of himſelf: there is no third, as I have ſaid often enough, but the Divan.

ON RELIGION.
MORNING CHRONICLE, Nov. 29, 1793.

A Few days after the Biſhop of Paris and his Vicars had ſet the example of renouncing their clerical character, a Cure from a village on the Banks of the Rhone, followed by ſome of his pariſhioners, with an offering of gold and ſilver ſaints, chalices, rich veſtments, &c. preſented himſelf at the Bar of the National Convention. The ſight of the gold put the Convention in a very good humour, and the Cur [...], a thin venerable looking man, with grey hairs, was ordered to ſpeak. I come, ſaid he, from the village of —, where the only good building ſtand⯑ing (for the Chateau has been pulled down), is a very fine church; my pariſhioners beg you will take it to make an hoſpital for the ſick and wounded of both parties, they being both equally our country⯑men; the gold and ſilver, part of which we have brought you, they entreat you will devote to the ſer⯑vice of the ſtate, and that you will caſt the bells into cannon, to drive away its foreign invaders; for my⯑ſelf, I am come with great pleaſure to reſign my let⯑ters of ordination, of induction, and every deed and title, by which I have been conſtituted a member of your eccleſiaſtical polity. Here are the papers, you may burn them, if you pleaſe, in the ſame fire with the genealogical trees and patents of the nobility. I deſire likewiſe, that you will diſcontinue my ſalary. I am ſtill able to ſupport myſelf with the labour of my hands, and I beg you to believe, that I never felt ſincerer joy than I now do in making this renunci⯑ation. I have longed to ſee this day, I ſee it, and am glad.

When the old man had done ſpeaking, the ap⯑plauſe; were immoderate. You are an honeſt man, ſaid they, all at once; a brave fellow; and the Pre⯑ſident advanced to give him the fraternal embrace. [215]The Curé did not ſeem greatly elated with theſe tokens of approbation, and thus reſumed his diſ⯑courſe:—"Before you applaud my ſentiments, it is fit you ſhould underſtand them; perhaps, they may not entirely coincide with your own. I rejoice in this day, not becauſe I wiſh to ſee religion degraded, but becauſe I wiſh to ſee it exalted and puriſied. By diſſolving its alliance with the ſtate, you have given it dignity and independence. You have done it a piece of ſervice, which [...]s well-wiſhers would perhaps ne⯑ver have had courage to render it, but which is the only thing wanted to make it appear in its genuine beauty and luſtre. Nobody will now ſay of me when I am performing the offices of my religion, it is his trade, he is paid for telling the people ſuch and ſuch things, he is hired to keep up an uſeful piece of mum⯑mery. They cannot now ſay this, and therefore I feel myſelf raiſed in my own eſteem, and ſhall ſpeak to them with a confidence and frankneſs, which be⯑fore this I never durſt venture to aſſume. We re⯑ſign without reluctance our gold and ſilver images, and embroidered veſtments, becauſe we have never found that looking upon gold and ſilver made the heart more pure, or the affections more heavenly: we can alſo ſpare our churches, for the heart that wiſhes to lift itſelf up to GOD will never be at a loſs for room to do it in; but we cannot ſpare oar reli⯑gion, becauſe, to tell you the truth, we never had ſo much occaſion for it. I underſtand that you accuſe us prieſts of having told the people a great many falſhoods. I ſuſpect this may have been the caſe, but till this day we have never been allowed to enquire whether the things which we taught them were true or not. You required us formerly to receive them all without proof, and you now would have us reject them all without diſcrimination; neither of theſe modes of conduct become philoſophers, ſuch as you would be thought to be. I am going to employ myſelf diligently along with my pariſhioners, to ſift [216]the wheat from the bran, the true from the falſe; if we are not ſucceſsful, we ſhall be at leaſt ſincere. [...] fear, indeed, that while I wore theſe veſtments which we have brought you, and ſpoke in that large gloomy building which we have given up to you, I told my poor flock a great many idle ſtories. I cannot but hope, however, that the errors we have fallen into have not been very material, ſince the village has in general been ſober and good, the peaſants are honeſt, decile, and laborious, the huſbands love their wives, and the wives their huſbands; they are fortunately not too rich to be compaſſionate, and they have con⯑ſtantly relieved the ſick and fugitives of all parties whenever it has lain in their way. I think therefore what I have taught cannot be ſo very much amiſs. You want to extirpate pri [...]ſts: but will you hinder the ignorant from applying for inſtruction, the un⯑happy for comfort and hope, the unlearned from looking up to the learned? If you do not, you will have prieſts, by whatever name you may order them to be called; but it is certa [...]ly not neceſſary they ſhould wear a particular dreſs, or be appointed by ſtare letters of ordination. My letters of ordination are my zeal, my charity, my ardent love for my dear children of the village, if I were more learned I would add my knowledge, but alas! we all know very little; to man every error is pardonable but want of humility. We have a public walk, with a ſpreading elm-tree at one end of it, and a circle of green round it, with a convenient bench. Here I ſhall get together the children as they are playing around me. I ſhall point to the vines laden with fruit, to the orchards, to the herds or cattle lowing around us, to thoſe diſtant hills ſtretching one behind another, and they will aſk me, how came all theſe things? I ſhall tell them all I know or have heard from wiſe men who have lived before me; they will be penetrated with love and veneration; they will kneel, I ſhall kneel with them; they will be at my [217]feet, but all of us at the feet of that Good Being, whom we ſhall worſhip together, and thus they will receive within their tender minds a religion. The old men will come ſometimes from having depoſited under the green ſod one of their companions, and place them⯑ſelves by my ſide; they will look wiſhfully at the turf, and anxiouſly enquire—is he gone for ever? ſhall we ſoon be like him? will no morning break over the tomb?—When the wicked ceaſe from troubling, will the good ceaſe from doing good? We will talk of thoſe things: I will comfort them. I will tell them of the goodneſs of God; I will ſpeak to them of a life to come; I will bid them hope for a ſtate of re⯑tribution. In a clear night, when the ſtars ſlide over our heads, they will aſk what thoſe bright bodies are, and by what rules they riſe and ſet?—and we will converſe about different forms of being, and diſtant worlds in the immenſity of ſpace governed by the ſame laws, till we feel our minds raiſed from what is groveling, and refined from what is ſordid. You talk of Nature, this is Nature; and if you could at this moment extinguiſh religion in the minds of all the world, thus would it be rekindled again, and thus again excite the curioſity and intereſt the feelings of mankind. You have changed our holidays; you have an undoubted right, as our civil governors, ſo to do; it is very immaterial whether they are kept once in ſeven days, or once in ten; ſome however, you will leave us, and when they occur, I ſhall tell thoſe who chuſe to hear me, of the beauty and utility of virtue, of the dignity of right conduct. We ſhall talk of good men who have lived in the world, and of the doctrines they taught; and if any of them have been perſecuted and put to death for their virtue, we ſhall reverence their memories the more.—I hope in all this there is no harm. There is a book out of which I have ſometimes taught my people; it ſays we are to love thoſe who do us hurt, and to poor oil and wine into the wounds of the ſtranger. It has [218]enabled my children to bear patiently the ſpoiling of their goods, and to give up their own intereſt for the general walfare: I think it cannot be a very bad book. I wiſh more of it had been read in your town, perhaps you would not have had quite ſo many aſſaſſinations and maſſacres. In this book we hear of a perſon called JESUS; ſome worſhip him as a God; others, as I am told, ſay to it is wrong to do ſo;—ſome teach that he exiſted before the beginning of ages; others, that he was born of JOSEPH and MARY. I cannot tell whether theſe controverſies will ever be decided; but, in the mean time, I think we cannot do otherwiſe than well to imitate him, for I learn that he loved the poor, and went about doing good.

Fellow-Citizens; as I travelled hither from my own Village, I ſaw peaſants ſitting amongſt the ſmok⯑ing ruins of their cottages; rich men and women reduced to deplorable poverty; Fathers lamenting their children in the bloom and pride of youth; and I ſaid to myſelf, theſe people cannot afford to part with their religion. But indeed you cannot take it away; if, contrary to your firſt declaration, you chuſe to try the experiment of perſecuting it, you will only make us prize it more, and love it better. Religion, true of falſe, is ſo neceſſary to the mind of man, that even you have already begun to make yourſelves a new one. You are ſowing the ſeeds of ſuperſtition at the moment you fancy you are deſtroy⯑ing ſuperſtition. Let every one chufe the religion that pleaſes him; I and my pariſhioners are content with ours, it teaches us to bear without deſpondency whatever evils may befal us.

ON THE HORRORS OF WAR.

IT is wonderful, with what coolneſs and indif⯑ference the greater part of mankind ſee war com⯑menced. Thoſe who hear of it at a diſtance, or read of it in books, but have never preſented its evils to their minds, conſider it as little more than a ſplendid game, a proclamation, an army, a battle, and a tri⯑umph. Some indeed muſt periſh in the moſt ſucceſs⯑ful field, but they die upon the bed of honour, re⯑ſign their lives awidſt the joys of conqueſt, and, filled with England's glory, ſmile in death.

The life of a modern ſoldier is ill repreſented by heroic fiction. War has means of deſtruction more formidable than the cannon and the ſword. Of the thouſands and ten thouſands who periſhed in our late conteſts with France and Spain, a very ſmall part ever felt the ſtroke of an enemy; the reſt languiſhed in tents and ſhips, amidſt damps and putrefaction, pale, torpid, ſpiritleſs, and helpleſs; gaſping and groaning, unpitied among men, made obdurate by a long con⯑tinuance of hopeleſs miſery; and were at laſt whelmed in pits, or heaved into the ocean, without notice, and without remembrance. By incommodious en⯑campments, and unwholeſome ſtations, where courage is uſeleſs, and enterprize impracticable, fleets are ſilently diſpeopled, and armies ſluggiſhly melted away.

Thus is a people gradually exhauſted, for the moſt part with little effect. The wars of civilized nations make very ſlow changes in the ſyſtem of empire. The public perceives ſcarcely any alteration but an en⯑creaſe of debt; and the few individuals who are be⯑nefited, are not ſuppoſed to have the cleareſt right to their advantages. If he who ſhared the danger en⯑joyed the profit, and after bleeding in the battle grew rich by the victory, he might ſhew his gains without [223]envy. But at the concluſion of a ten years war, how are we recompenced for the death of multitudes, and the expence of millions, but by contemplating the ſudden glories of paymaſters and agents, contractors and commiſſuries, whoſe equipages ſhine like meteors, and whoſe palaces riſe like exhalations.

Theſe are the men who, without virtue, labour, or hazard, are growing rich as their country is im⯑poveriſhed; they rejoice when obſtinacy or ambition add; another year to ſlaughter and devaſtation; and laugh from their deſks at bravery and ſcience, while they are adding figure to figure, and cipher to cipher, hoping for a new contract from a new armament, and computing the profits of a ſiege or a tempeſt.

ON THE AUTHORITY OF ONE COUNTRY OVER ANOTHER.

FROM the nature and principles of Civil Liberty, it is an immediate and neceſſary inference that no one community can have any power over the pro⯑perty or legiſlation of another community, that is not incorporated with it by a juſt and adequate re⯑preſentation.—Then only, is a ſtate free, when it is governed by its own will. But a country that is ſub⯑ject to the legiſlature of another country, in which it has no voice, and over which it has no controul, can⯑not be ſaid to be governed by its own will. Such a country, therefore, is in a ſtate of ſlavery. And it deſerves to be particularly conſidered, that ſuch a ſlavery is worſe, on ſeveral accounts, than any ſlavery of private men to one another, or of kingdoms to deſpots within themſelves.—Between one ſtate and another, there is none of that fellow-feeling that takes place between perſons in private life. Being detached bodies that never ſee one another, and re⯑ſiding perhaps in different quarters of the globe, the [229]ſtate that governs cannot be a witneſs to the ſuffer⯑ings occaſioned by its oppreſſions; or a competent judge of the circumſtances and abilities of the peo⯑ple who are governed. They muſt alſo have, in a great degree, ſeparate intereſts; and the more the one is loaded, the more the other may be caſed. The infamy likewiſe of oppreſſion, being in ſuch circum⯑ſtances ſhared among a multitude, is not likely to be much felt or regarded. On all theſe accounts there is in the cafe of one country ſubjugated to another, little or nothing to check rapacity; and the moſt flagrant injuſtice and cruelty may be practiſed with⯑out remorſe or pity. I will add, that it is particu⯑larly difficult to ſhake off a tyranny of this kind. A ſingle deſpot, if a people are unanimous and reſo⯑lute, may be ſoon ſubdued. But a deſpotic ſtate is not eaſily ſubdued; and a people ſubject to it cannot eman⯑cipate themſelves without entering into a dreadful, and, perhaps, very unequal conteſt.

I cannot help obſerving farther, that the ſlavery of a people to external deſpots may be qualified and li⯑mited; but I don't ſee what can limit the authority of one ſtate over another. The exerciſe of power in this caſe can have no other meaſure than diſcretion; and, therefore, muſt be indefinite and abſolute.

Once more. It ſhould be conſidered that the go⯑vernment of one country by another, can only be ſup⯑ported by a military force; and, without ſuch a ſup⯑port, muſt be deſtitute of all weight and efficiency.

A PANEGYRIC! A SAFE MORSEL FOR THE PIGS. FROM CATO [...] LETTERS.

WE have at laſt, by the bounteous gift of in⯑dulgent Providence, a moſt [...] King, and a wiſe and uncorrupt Parliament; a [...] [...]et—But what ſhall I ſay, or what ſhall be left unſaid? I will [240]go on.—We have a Prince, I ſay, who is poſſeſſed of every virtue which can grace and adorn a crown; a Parliament too, than whom England has never choſen one better diſpoſed to do all thoſe things, which every honeſt man in it wiſhed, and called for, and yet—by the iniquity of the times, or the ini⯑quities of particular men, we are ſtill to expect our deliverance, though I hope we ſhall not expect it long.

Public corruptions and abuſes have grown upon us: ſees in moſt, if not in all offices, are immenſely in⯑creaſed: places and employments, which ought not to be ſold at all, are ſold for treble values: the ne⯑ceſſitie, of the public have made greater impoſitions unavoidable, and yet the public has run very much in debt; and as theſe-debts have been encreaſing, and the people growing poor, ſalaries have been ang⯑mented, and penſions multiplied: I mean in the l [...]ſt reign, for I hope that there have been no ſuch doing in this.

CAUTIONS Againſt the natural Encroachments of Power.
From CATO'S LETTERS.

PEOPLE are ruined by their ignorance of Human Nature; which ignorance leads them to credu⯑lity, and too great a confidence in particular men. They fondly imagine that he, who, poſſeſſing a great deal by their favour, owes them great gratitude, and all good offices, will therefore return their kindneſs: But, alas! how often are they miſtaken in their fa⯑vourites and truſtees; who, the more they have given them, are often the more incited to take all, and to return deſtruction for generous uſage. The common people generally think that great men have great minds, and ſcorn baſe actions; which judgment is ſo falſe, that the baſeſt and worſt of all actions have been done by great men: Perhaps they have not picked private pockets, but they have done worſe; they have often diſturbed, deceived, and pillaged the world: And he who is capable of the higheſt miſchief, is ca⯑pable of the meaneſt: He who plunders a country of a million of money, would in ſuitable circumſtances ſteal a ſilver ſpoon; and a conqueror, who ſteals and pillages a kingdom, would, in an humbler fortune, rifle a portmanteau, or rob an orchard.

Political jealouſy, therefore, in the people, is a neceſſary and laudable paſſion. But in a chief magi⯑ſtrate, a jealouſy of his people is not ſo juſtifiable, their ambition being only to preſerve themſelves; whereas it is natural for Power to be ſtriving to en⯑large itſelf, and to be encroaching upon thoſe who have none. The moſt laudable jealouſy of a magi⯑ſtrate is to be jealous for his people; which will ſhew that be loves them, and has uſed them well: But to be jealous of them, would denote that he has evil deſigns againſt them, and has uſed them ill. The [247]people's jealouſy tends to preſerve Liberty; and the prince's to deſtroy it. Venice is a glorious inſtance of the former, and ſo is England; and all nations who have loſt their Liberty, are melancholy proofs of the latter.

Power is naturally active, vigilant and diſtruſtful; which qualities in it puſh it upon all means and expe⯑dients to fortify itſelf, and upon deſtroying all op⯑poſition, and even all ſeeds of oppoſition, and make it reſtleſs as long as any thing ſtands in its way. It would do what it pleaſes, and have no check. Now becauſe Liberty chaſtiſes and ſhortens Power, therefore Power would extinguiſh Liberty; and conſequently Liberty has too much cauſe to be exceeding jealous, and always upon her defence. Power has many ad⯑vantages over her; it has generally numerous guards, many creatures, and much treaſure; beſides, it has more craft and experience, leſs honeſty and innocence: And whereas Power can, and for the moſt part does ſubſiſt where Liberty is not, Liberty cannot ſubſiſt without Power; ſo that ſhe has, as it were, the enemy always at her gates.

Some have ſaid, that Magiſtrates being accountable to none but God, ought to know no other reſtraint. But this reaſoning is as frivolous as it is wicked; for no good man cares how many puniſhments and pe⯑nalties lie in the way to an offence which he does not intend to commit: A man who does not intend to commit murder, is not ſorry that murder is pu⯑niſhed with death. And as to wicked men, their being accountable to God, whom they do not fear, is no ſecurity to us againſt their folly and malice; and to ſay that we ought to have no ſecurity againſt them, is to inſult common ſenſe, and give the lie to the firſt law of nature, that of ſelf-preſervation. Human reaſon ſays, that there is no obedience, no regard due to thoſe rulers, who govern by no rule but their luſt. Such men are no rulers; they are outlaws, who, be⯑ing at defiance with God and man, are protected by [248]no law of God, or of reaſon. By what precept, moral or divine, are we forbid to kill a wolf, or burn an infected ſhip? Is it unlawful to prevent wickedneſs and miſery, and to reſiſt the authors of them? Are crimes ſanctified by their greatneſs? And is he who robs a country, and murders ten thouſand, leſs a criminal than he who ſteals ſingle guineas, and takes away ſingle lives? Is there any ſin in preventing, and reſtraining, or reſiſting the greateſt ſin that can be committed, that of oppreſſing and deſtroying man⯑kind by wholeſale? Sure there never were ſuch open, ſuch ſhameleſs, ſuch ſ [...]fiſh impoſtors, as the advo⯑cates for lawleſs power. It is a damnable ſin to op⯑preſs them; yet it is a damnable ſin to oppoſe them when they oppreſs, or-gain by the oppreſſion of others. When they are hurt themſelves ever ſo little, or but think themſelves hurt, they are the loudeſt of all men in their complaints, and the moſt outrageous in their behaviour: but when others are plundered, oppreſſed and butchered, complaints are ſedition; and to ſeek redreſs is damnation. Is not this to be the authors of all wickedneſs and falſehood?

To conclude: Power, without controul, appertains to God alone; and no man ought to be truſted with what no man is equal to. In truth, there are ſo many paſſions, and inconſiſtencies, and ſo much ſelfiſhneſs belonging to human nature, that we can ſcarce be too much upon our guard againſt each other. The only ſecurity which we can have that men will be honeſt, is to make it their intereſt to be honeſt; and the beſt defence which we can have againſt their being knaves, is to make it terrible to them to be knaves. As there are many men wicked in ſome ſtations, who would be innocent in others; the beſt way is to make wickedneſs unſafe in any ſtation.

THE MARRIAGE ACT CENSURED.
From The Citizen of the World. By Goldſmith.

NOT far from this City lives a poor Tinker, who has educated ſeven ſons, all at this time in arms, and fighting for their country, and what reward do you think has the tinker from the ſtate for ſuch im⯑portant ſervices? none in the world; his ſons, when the war is over, may probably be whipt from pariſh to pariſh as vagabonds, and the old man, when paſt la⯑bour, may die a priſoner in ſome houſe of correc⯑tion.

Such a worthy ſubject in China would be held in univerſal reverence; his ſervices would be rewarded, if not with dignities, at leaſt with an exemption from labour; he would take the left hand at ſeaſts, and mandarines themſelves would be proud to ſhew their ſubmiſſion. The Engliſh laws puniſh vice, the Chineſe laws do more, they reward virtue!

Conſidering the little encouragements given to ma⯑trimony here, I am not ſurpriſed at the diſcourage⯑ments given to propagation. Would you believe it, my dear Fum Hoam, there are laws made, which even forbid the people's marrying each other. By the head of Confucius, I jeſt not; there are ſuch laws in being here; and their law-givers have neither been inſtructed among the Hottentots, nor imbibed their principles of equity from the natives of Anamaboo.

There are laws which ordain, that no man ſhall marry a woman contrary to her own conſent. This, though contrary to what we are taught in Aſia, and though in ſome meaſure a clog upon matrimony, I have no great objection to. There are laws which ordain, that no woman ſhall marry againſt her father and mother's conſent, unleſs arrived at an age of ma⯑turity; by which is underſtood thoſe years, when woman with us are generally paſt child-bearing. Thi [...] [258]muſt be a clog upon matrimony, as it is more difficult for the lover to pleaſe three than one, and much more difficult to pleaſe old people than young ones. The laws ordain, that the conſenting couple ſhall take a long time to conſider before they marry; this is a very great clog, becauſe people love to have all raſh actions done in a hurry. It is ordained that all mar⯑riages ſhall be proclaimed before celebration: this is a ſevere clog, as many are aſhamed to have their mar⯑riage made public, from motives of vicious modeſty, and many, afraid from views of temporal intereſt.

It is ordained, that there is nothing ſacred in the ceremony, but that it may be diſſolved to all intents and purpoſes by the authority of any civil magiſtrate. And yet oppoſite to this it is ordained, that the prieſt ſhall be paid a large ſum of money for granting his ſacred permiſſion.

Thus you ſee, my friend, that matrimony here is hedged round with ſo many obſtructions, that thoſe who are willing to break through or ſurmount them, muſt be contented, if at laſt they find it a bed of thorns. The laws are not to blame, for they have deterred the people from engaging as much as they could. It is indeed become a very ſerious affair in England, and none but ſerious people are generally found willing to engage. The young, the gay, and the beautiful, who have motives of paſſion only to induce them, are ſeldom found to embark, as thoſe inducements are taken away, and none but the old, the ugly, and the mercenary are ſeen to unite, who, if they have any poſterity at all, will probably be an ill favoured race like themſelves.

What gave riſe to thoſe laws might have been ſome ſuch accidents as theſe. It ſometimes happened, that a miſer, who had ſpent all his youth in ſeraping up money, to give his daughter ſuch a fortune as might get her a mandarine huſband found his expectations diſappointed at laſt, by her running away with his footman; this muſt have been a ſad ſhock to the poor [259]diſconſolate parent, to ſee his poor daughter in a one⯑horſe chaiſe, when he had deſigned her for a coach and ſix: what a ſtroke from providence!!! to ſee his dear money go to a beggar; all nature cried out at the profanation!!!

It ſometimes happened alſo, that a lady, who had inherited all the titles, and all the nervous complaints of nobility, thought fit to impair her dignity, and mend her conſtitution, by marrying a farmer; this muſt have been a ſad ſhock to her inconſolable rela⯑tions, to ſee ſo fine a flower ſnatched from a flouriſh⯑ing family, and planted in a dunghill; this was an abſolute inverſion of the firſt principles of things!!!

In order, therefore, to prevent the great from be⯑ing thus contaminated by vulgar alliances, the obſta⯑cles to matrimony have been ſo contrived, that the rich only can marry amongſt the rich, and the poor, who would leave celebacy, muſt be content to increaſe their poverty with a wife. Thus have the laws fairly inverted the inducements to matrimony; nature tells us, that beauty is the proper allurement of thoſe who are rich, and money of thoſe who are poor; but things here are ſo contrived, that the rich are invited to marry by that fortune which they do not want, and the poor have no inducement, but that beauty which they do not feel.

An equal diffuſion of riches through any country conſtitutes its happineſs. Great wealth in the poſſeſ⯑ſion of one ſtagnates, and extream poverty with ano⯑ther keeps him in unambitious indigence; but the moderately rich are generally active; not too far removed from poverty, to fear its calamities; nor too near extreme wealth, to ſlacken the nerve of labour; they remain ſtill between both, in a ſtate of continual fluctuation. How impolitic, therefore, are thoſe laws which promote the accumulation of wealth among the rich, more impolitic ſtill, in at⯑tempting to encreaſe the depreſſion on poverty.

Bacon, the Engliſh Philoſopher, compares money [260]to manure; if gathered in heaps, ſays he, it does no good; on the contrary, it becomes offenſive; but, being ſpread, though never ſo thinly, over the ſur⯑face of the earth, it enriches the whole country. Thus the wealth a nation poſſeſſes muſt expatiate, or it is of no benefit to the public, it becomes rather a grievance, where matrimonial laws thus conſine it to a few.

But this reſtraint upon matrimonial community, even conſidered in a phyſical light, is injurious. As thoſe who rear up animals take all poſſible pains to croſs the ſtrain, in order to improve the breed; ſo in thoſe countries where marriage is moſt free, the inhabitants are found every age to improve in ſtature and in beauty; on the contrary, where it is confined to a caſt, a tribe, or an hord, as among the Gaurs, the Jews, or the Tartars, each diviſion ſoon aſſumes a family likeneſs, and every tribe degenerates into peculiar deformity. From hence it may be eaſily in⯑ferred, that if the Mandarines here are reſolved only to marry among each other, they will ſoon produce a poſterity with Mandarine Faces: and we ſhall ſee the heir of ſome honourable family ſcaree equal to the abortion of a country farmer.

Theſe are a few of the obſtacles to marriage here, and it is certain they have in ſome meaſure anſwered the end; for celebacy is both frequent and faſhion⯑able. Old batchelors appear abroad without a maſk, and old maids, my dear Fum Hoam, have been abſo⯑lutely known to ogle. To confeſs in friendſhip, if I were an Engliſhman, I fancy I ſhould be an old batchelor myſelf; I ſhould never find courage to run through all the adventures preſcribed by the law. I could ſubmit to court my miſtreſs herſelf upon reaſonable terms, but to court her father, her mother, and a long tribe of couſins, aunts, and relations, and then ſtand the butt of a whole country church, I would as ſoon turn tail, and make love to her grand⯑mother.

[261]I can conceive no other reaſon for thus loading matrimony with ſo many prohibitions, unleſs it be that the country was thought already too populous, and this was found to be the moſt effectual means of thinning it. If this was the motive. I cannot but congratulate the wiſe projectors on the ſucceſs of their ſcheme. Hail, O ye dim-ſighted politicians, ye weeders of men! 'Tis yours to clip the wing of induſtry, and convert hymen to a broker. 'Tis yours to behold ſmall objects with a microſcopic eye, but to be blind to thoſe which require an extent of viſion. 'Tis yours, O ye diſcerners of mankind, to lay the line between ſociety, and weaken that force by dividing, which ſhould bind with united vigour, 'Tis yours, to introduce national real diſtreſs, in order to avoid the imaginary diſtreſſes of a few. Your actions can be juſtified by an hundred reaſons like truth, they can be oppoſed but by few reaſons, and thoſe reaſons are true. Fare⯑well.

THE BANEFUL INFLUENCE OF DEPEN⯑DENCE ON THE MIND.
From The Citizen of the World, by Dr. Goldſmith.

AMONG many who have enforced the duty of Giving, I am ſurprized there are none to incul⯑cate the ignominy of Receiving, to ſhew that by every favour we accept, we in ſome meaſure forfeit our native freedom, and that in a ſtate of continual de⯑pendence on the generoſity of others in a life of gra⯑dual debaſement.

Were men taught to deſpiſe the receiving obliga⯑tions with the ſame force of reaſoning and declama⯑tion that they are inſtructed to confer them, we might [275]then ſee every perſon in ſociety filling up the requi⯑ſite duties of his ſituation with chearful induſtry, neither relaxed by hope, nor ſullen from diſappoint⯑ment.

Every favour a man receives, in ſome meaſure, ſinks him below his dignity, and in proportion to the value of the benefit, or the frequency of its ac⯑ceptance, he gives up ſo much of his natural inde⯑pendence. He, therefore, who thrives upon the un⯑merited bounty of another, if he has any ſenſibility, ſuffers the worſt of ſervitude; the ſhackled ſlave may murmur with out reproach, but the humble dependent is taxed with ingratitude upon every ſymptom of diſ⯑content; the one may rave round the walls of his cell, but the other lingers in all the ſilence of mental confinement. To encreaſe his diſtreſs, every new obligation but adds to the former load which kept the vigorous mind from riſing; till at laſt, elaſtic no longer, it ſhapes itſelf to conſtraint, and puts on ha⯑bitual ſervility.

It is thus with the feeling mind, but there are ſome who, born without any ſhare of ſenſibility, receive favour after favour, and ſtill cringe for more, who accept the offer of generoſity with as little reluctance as the wages of merit, and even make thanks for paſt benefits an indirect petition for new; ſuch, I grant, can ſuffer no debaſement from dependence, ſince they were originally as vile as was poſſible to be; dependence degrades only the ingenuous, but leaves the ſordid mind in priſtine meanneſs. In this man⯑ner, therefore, long continued generoſity is miſplaced, or it is injurious; it either finds a man worthleſs, or it makes him ſo; and true it is, that the perſon who is contented to be often obliged, ought not to have been obliged at all.

It is perhaps one of the ſevereſt misfortunes of the great, that they are in general, obliged to live among men whoſe real value is leſſened by dependence, and whoſe minds are enſlaved by obligation. The hum⯑ble [276]companion may have at firſt accepted patronage with generous views, but ſoon he feels the mortifying influence of conſcious inferiority, by degrees he ſinks into a flatterer, and from flartery at laſt degenerates into STUPID VENERATION. To remedy this, the great often diſmiſs their old dependents, and take new. Such changes are falſely imputed to levity, falſehood, or caprice, in the patron, ſince they may be more juſtly aſcribed to the client's gradual de⯑terioration, No, my ſon, a life of independence is ge⯑nerally a life of virtue. It is that which fits the ſoul for every flight of humanity, freedom, and friend⯑ſhip. To give ſhould be our pleaſure, but to receive our ſhame; ſerenity, health and affluence attend the deſire of riſing by labour; miſery, repentance, and diſreſpect, that of ſucceeding by extorted benevo⯑lence; the man who can thank himſelf alone for the happineſs he enjoys, is truely ſo; and lovely, far more lovely the ſturdy gloom of laborious indigence, than the fawning ſimper of thriving adulation.

THE ADVANTAGES ACCRUING TO MAN⯑KIND FROM A HABITUAL CONSCIOUS⯑NESS OF THEIR BEING EQUAL.
From Barlow's Advice to Privileged Orders.

IN the United States of America, the Science of Li⯑berty is univerſally underſtood, felt, and prac⯑tiſed, as much by the ſimple as the wiſe, the weak as the ſtrong. The deep-rooted and inveterate ha⯑bit of thinking, that all men are equal in their Rights, that it is impoſſible to make them otherwiſe; and this being their undiſturbed belief, they have no concep⯑tion how any man in his ſenſes can entertain any other. This point once ſettled, every thing is ſet⯑tled. Many operations, which in Europe have been conſidered as incredible tales or dangerous experi⯑ments, are but the infallible conſequences of this great principle. The firſt of theſe operations is the Buſineſs of Election, which, with that people is carried on with as much gravity as their daily labour. There is no jealouſy on the occaſion, nothing lucrative in office; any man in ſociety may attain to any place in the government, and may exerciſe its functions. They believe that there is nothing more difficult in the management of the affairs of a nation than the affairs of a family; that it only requires more hands. They believe that it is the juggle of keeping up im⯑poſitions to blind the eyes of the vulgar, that con⯑ſtitutes the intricacy of ſtate. Baniſh the myſticiſm of inequality, and you baniſh almoſt all the evils attendant on human nature.

Another conſequence of the habitual idea of Equality, is the facility of changing the ſtructure of their Government whenever and as often as the Society ſhall think there is any thing in it to amend. As [284]Mr. Burke has written no "Reflections on the Re⯑volution" in America, the people there have never been told that they had no right "to frame a go⯑vernment for themſelves;" they have therefore done much of this buſineſs, without ever affixing to it the idea of "Sacrilege," or "Uſurpation," or any other term of rant to be found in that Gentleman's Voca⯑bulary.

Within a few years, the Fifteen States have not only framed each its own State-Conſtitution, and Two ſucceſſive Federal Conſtitutions; but ſince the ſettlement of the preſent general Government in the year 1789, three of the States, Pennſylvania, South-Carolina, and Georgia, have totally new-modeled their own. And all this is done without the leaſt confuſion; the operation being ſcarcely known be⯑yond the limits of the State where it is performed. Thus they are in the habit of "chooſing their own Governors," of "caſhiering them for miſconduct," of "framing a Government for themſelves," and all thoſe abominable things, the mere naming of which, in Mr. Burke's opinion, has polluted the pulpit in the Old Jewry.^*⁎*