Part 26

But here it will be immediately said, "What, must we give over thinking--be no longer rational creatures, and believe every lie that is told us?" By no means.--Let us be _really_ rational creatures--and, taught by experience, let us, in all our speculations on subjects which engage the passions, guard ourselves with the most anxious care against the risk of having our judgments warped by our desires.--There is no propensity of our nature of which the proper and modest indulgence is not beneficial to man, and which is not hurtful, when this indulgence is carried too far,--and if we candidly peruse the page of history, we shall be convinced that the abuse is great in proportion as the subject is important. What has been so ruinously perverted as the religious principle?--What horrid superstition has it not produced? The Reader will not, I hope, take it amiss that I presume to direct his attention to some maxims which ought to conduct a prudent man in his indulgence of a speculative disposition, and apply them to the case in hand.

Whoever will for a while call off his attention from the common affairs of life, the _Curæ hominum, et rerum pondus inane_, and will but reflect a little on that wonderful principle within him, which carries him over the whole universe, and shows him its various relations--Whoever also remarks how very small a proportion his own individual existence bears to this immeasurable scene, cannot but feel an inexpressible pleasure in the contemplation of his own powers--He must rise in his own estimation, and be disposed to cherish with fondness this principle which so eminently raises him above all around him. Of all the sources of human vanity this is surely the most manly, the most excusable, and the most likely to be extravagantly indulged.--We may be certain that it will be so indulged, and that men will frequently speculate for the sake of speculation alone, and that they will have too much confidence in the results of this favourite occupation.--As there have been ages of indolent and abject credulity and superstition, it is next to certain that there are also times of wild and extravagant speculation--and when we see it becoming a sort of general passion, we may be certain that this is a case in point.

This can hardly be denied to be the character of the present day. It is not denied. On the contrary it is gloried in as the prerogative of the eighteenth century. All the speculations of antiquity are considered as glimmerings (with the exceptions of a few brighter flashes) when compared with our present meridian splendor. We should therefore listen with caution to the inferences from this boasted Illumination. Also when we reflect on what passes in our own minds, and on what we observe in the world, of the mighty influence of our desires and passions on our judgments, we should carefully notice whether any such warping of the belief is probable in the present case. That it is so is almost certain--for the general and immediate effect of this Illumination is to lessen or remove many restraints which the sanctions of religion lay on the indulgence of very strong passions, and to diminish our regard for a certain purity or correctness of manners, which religion recommends as the only conduct suited to our noble natures, and as absolutely necessary for attaining that perfection and happiness of which we are capable.--For surely if we take away religion, it will be wisdom "to eat and to drink, since to-morrow we die." If, moreover, we see this Illumination extolled above all science, as friendly to virtue, as improving the heart, and as producing a just morality, which will lead to happiness both for ourselves and others, but perceive at the same time that these assertions are made at the expence of principles, which our natural feelings force us to venerate as supreme and paramount to all others, we may then be certain that our informer is trying to mislead and deceive us.--For all virtue and goodness both of heart and conduct, is in perfect harmony, and there is no jarring or inconsistency. But we must pass this sentence on the doctrines of this Illumination. For it is a melancholy truth that they have been preached and recommended, for the most part, by clergymen, parish-ministers, who, in the presence of invoked Deity, and in the face of the world, have set their solemn seal to a system of doctrines directly opposite to those recommended in their writings; which doctrines they solemnly profess to believe, and solemnly swear to inculcate. Surely the informations and instructions of such men should be rejected. Where shall we find their real opinions? In their solemn oaths?--or in these infidel dissertations?--In either case, they are deceivers, whether misled by vanity or by the mean desire of church-emoluments; or they are prostitutes, courting the society of the wealthy and sensual. Honesty, like justice, admits of no degrees. A man is honest, or he is a knave, and who would trust a knave? But such men are unsuitable instructors for another reason--they are unwise; for, whatever they may think, they are not respected as men of worth, but are inwardly despised as parasites, by the rich, who admit them into their company, and treat them with civility, for their own reasons. We take instructions not merely from the knowing, the learned, but from the wise--not therefore from men who give such evidences of weakness.

Such would be the conduct of a prudent man, who listens to the instructions of another with the serious intention of profiting by them. In the present case he sees plain proofs of degraded self estimation, of dishonesty, and of mean motives. But the prudent man will go further--he will remark that dissolute manners, and actions which are inevitably subversive of the peace and order, nay, of the very existence of society, are the natural and necessary consequences of irreligion. Should any doubt of this remain in his mind; should he sometimes think of an Epictetus, or one or two individuals of antiquity, who were eminently virtuous, without the influence of religious sanctions, he should recollect, that the Stoics were animated by the thought, that while the wise man was playing the game of life, the gods were looking on, and pleased with his skill. Let him read the beautiful account given by Dr. Smith of the rise of the Stoic philosophy, and he will see that it was an artificial but noble attempt of a few exalted minds, enthusiasts in virtue, aiming to steel their souls against the dreadful but unavoidable misfortunes to which they were continually exposed by the daily recurring revolutions in the turbulent democracies of ancient Greece. There, a philosopher was this day a magistrate, and the next day a captive and a slave. He would see that this fair picture of mental happiness and independence was fitted for the contemplation of only a few choice spirits, but had no influence on the bulk of mankind. He must admire the noble characters who were animated by this manly enthusiasm, and who have really exhibited some wonderful pictures of virtuous heroism; but he will regret, that the influence of these manly, these natural principles, was not more extensive. He will say to himself, "How will a whole nation act when religious sanctions are removed, and men are actuated by reason alone?"--He is not without instruction on this important subject. France has given an awful lesson to surrounding nations, by shewing them what is the natural effect of shaking off the religious principle, and the veneration for that pure morality which characterises Christianity. By a decree of the Convention, (June 6, 1794) it is declared, that there is nothing criminal in the promiscuous commerce of the sexes, and therefore nothing that derogates from the female character, when woman forgets that she is the depositary of all domestic satisfaction----that her honour is the sacred bond of social life----that on her modesty and delicacy depend all the respect and confidence that will make a man attach himself to her society, free her from labour, share with her the fruits of all his own exertions, and work with willingness and delight, that she may appear on all occasions his equal, and the ornament of all his acquisitions. In the very argument which this selected body of senators has given for the propriety of this decree, it has degraded woman below all estimation. "It is to prevent her from murdering the fruit of unlawful love, by removing her shame, and by relieving her from the fear of want." The senators say, "the Republic wants citizens, and therefore must not only remove this temptation of shame, but must take care of the mother while she nurses the child. It is the property of the nation, and must not be lost." The woman all the while is considered only as the she-animal, the breeder of Sans Culottes. This is the _just_ morality of Illumination. It is really amusing (for things revolting to nature now amuse) to observe with what fidelity the principles of the Illuminati have expressed the sentiments which take possession of a people who have shaken off the sanctions of Religion and morality. The following is part of the address to _Psycharion_ and the company mentioned in page 257: "Once more, Psycharion, I indulge you with a look behind you to the flowery days of childhood. Now look forwards, _young woman_! the holy circle of the marriageable, (_mannbaren_) welcome you. Young men, honour the young woman, the future breeder (_gebaererin_)!" Then, to all.--"Rejoice in the dawn of Illumination and of Freedom. Nature at last enjoys her sacred never-fading rights. Long was her voice kept down by civil subordination; but the days of your majority now draw nigh, and you will no longer, under the authority of guardians, account it a reproach to consider with enlightened eyes the secret workshops of nature, and to enjoy your work and duty." Minos thought this very fine, but it raised a terrible disturbance and broke up the assembly.

Such are the effects of this boasted enlightening of the human mind with respect to religion and morality. Let us next consider what is the result of the mighty informations which we have got in respect of our social or political connections.

II. We have learned the sum total of this political Illumination, and see that, if true, it is melancholy, destructive of our present comforts, numerous as they are, and affords no prospect of redress from which we can profit, but, on the contrary, plunges mankind into dissention, mutual injury, and universal misery, and all this for the _chance_ only of prevailing in the contest, and giving our posterity a _chance_ of going on in peace, if no change shall be produced, as in former times, by the efforts of ambitious men. But the Illumination appears to be partial, nay false. What is it? It holds out to the prince nothing but the resignation of all his possessions, rights and claims, sanctioned by the quiet possession of ages, and by all the feelings of the human heart which give any notion of right to his lowest subject. All these possessions and claims are discovered to have arisen from usurpations, _and are therefore tyranny_. It has been discovered, that all subordinate subjections were enforced, _therefore their continuance is slavery_. But both of these historical assertions are in a great degree false, and the inferences from them are unreasonable. The world has gone on as we see it go on at present. Most principalities or sovereignties have arisen as we see personal authorities and influence arise every day among ourselves. Business for the whole must be done. Most men are sufficiently occupied by their private affairs, and they are indolent even in these--they are contented when another does the thing for them. There is not a little village, nor a society of men, where this is not seen every day. Some men have an enjoyment in this kind of vicarious employment. Other men like influence and power, and thus are compensated for their trouble. Thus many petty managers of public affairs arise in every country. The mutual animosities of individuals, and still more, the animosities of tribes, clans, and different associations, give rise to another kind of superiors--to leaders, who direct the struggles of the rest, whether for offence or defence. The descendants of Israel said, "they wanted a man to go out before the people, like other nations." As the small business of a few individuals requires a manager or a leader, so do some more general affairs of these petty superiors.--Many of these also are indolent enough to wish this trouble taken off their hands; and thus another rank of superiors arises, and a third, and so on, till a great State may be formed; and in this gradation each class is a competent judge of the conduct of that class only which is immediately above it.

All this may arise, and has often arisen, from voluntary concession alone. This concession may proceed from various causes,--from confidence in superior talents--from confidence in great worth,--most generally from the respect or deference which all men feel for great possessions. This is frequently founded in self-interest and expectations of advantage; but it is natural to man, and perhaps springs from our instinctive sympathy with the satisfactions of others--we are unwilling to disturb them, and even wish to promote them.

But this subordination may arise, and has often arisen, from other causes--from the love of power and influence, which makes some men _eager_ to lead others, or even to manage their concerns. We see this every day, and it may be perfectly innocent. It often arises from the desire of gain of one kind or another.--This also may frequently be indulged with perfect innocence, and even with general advantage. Frequently, however, this subordination is produced by the love of power or of gain pushed to an immoderate degree of ambition, and rendered unjust. Now there arise oppression, tyranny, sufferings, and slavery. Now appears an opposition between the rights or claims of the ruler and of the people. Now the rulers come to consider themselves as a different class, and their transactions are now only with each other.--Prince becomes the rival or the enemy of Prince; and in their contests one prevails, and the dominion is enlarged. This rivalship may have begun in any rank of superiors; even between the first managers of the affairs of the smallest communities; and it must be remarked that they only are the immediate gainers or losers in the contest, while those below them live at ease, enjoying many advantages of the delegation of their own concerns.

No human society has ever proceeded purely in either of these two ways, but there has always been a mixture of both.--But this process is indispensably necessary for the formation of a great nation, and for all the consequences that result only from such a coalition.--Therefore it is necessary for giving rise to all those comforts, and luxuries, and elegances, which are to be found only in great and cultivated states. It is necessary for producing such enjoyments as we see around us in Europe, which we prize so highly, and for which we are making all this stir and disturbance. I believe that no man who expects to be believed will positively assert that human nature and human enjoyments are not meliorated by this cultivation.--It seems to be the intention of nature, and, notwithstanding the follies and vices of many, we can have little hesitation in saying that there are in the most cultivated nations of Europe, and even in the highest ranks of those nations, men of great virtue and worth, and of high accomplishment--Nor can we deny that such men are the finest specimens of human nature. Rosseau indeed wrote a whimsical pamphlet, in which he had the vanity to think that he had proved that all these fruits of cultivation were losses to humanity and virtue--Yet Rousseau could not be contented with the society of the rude and unpolished, although he pretended that he was almost the sole worshipper of pure virtue.--He supported himself, not by assisting the simple peasant, but by writing music and luscious novels for the pampered rich.

This is the circumstance entirely overlooked, or artfully kept out of sight, in the boasted Illumination of these days. No attention is paid to the important changes which have happened in national greatness, in national connection, in national improvement--yet we never think of parting with any of the advantages, real or imaginary, which these changes have produced--nor do we reflect that in order to keep a great nation together--to make it act with equality, or with preponderancy, among other nations, the individual exertions must be concentrated, must be directed--and that this requires a ruler vested with supreme power, and _interested by some great and endearing motive_, such as hereditary possession of this power and influence, to maintain and defend this coalition of men.--All this is overlooked, and we attend only to the subordination which is indispensably necessary. Its grievances are immediately felt, and they are heightened tenfold by a delicacy or sensibility which springs from the great improvements in the accommodations and enjoyments of life, which the gradual usurpation and subsequent subordination have produced, and continue to support. But we are determined to have the elegance and grandeur of a palace without the prince.--We will not give up any of our luxuries and refinements, yet will not support those high ranks and those nice minds which produced them, and which must continue to keep them from degenerating into barbarous simplicity and coarse sensuality. We would keep the philosophers, the poets, the artists, but not the Mæcenases. It is very true that in such a state there would be no _Conjuration des Philosophes_; for in such a state this vermin of _philosophes_ and scribblers would not have existed. In short, we would have what is impossible.

I have no hesitation in saying, that the British Constitution is the form of government _for a great and refined nation_, in which the ruling sentiments and propensities of human nature seem most happily blended and balanced. There is no occasion to vaunt it as the ancient rights of Britons, the wisdom of ages, &c. It has attained its present pitch of perfection by degrees, and this not by the efforts of wisdom, but by the struggles of vice and folly, working on a rich fund of good nature, and of manly spirit, that are conspicuous in the British character. I do not hesitate to say that it is the _only_ form of government which will admit and give full exercise to all the respectable propensities of our nature, with the least chance of disturbance and the greatest probability of man's arriving at the highest pitch of improvement in every thing that raises him above the beasts of the field. Yet there is no part of it that may not, that is not, abused, by pushing it to an improper length, and the same watchful care is necessary for preserving our inestimable blessings that was employed in acquiring them. This is to be done, not by flying at once to an abstract theory of the rights of man. There is an evident folly in this procedure. What is this theory? It is the best general sketch that we can draw of social life, deduced from our knowledge of human nature. And what is this knowledge? It is a well digested abstract, or rather a declaration _of what we have observed_ of human actions. What is the use therefore of this intermediate picture, this theory of the rights of man?--It has a chance of being unlike the original----it must certainly have imperfections, therefore it can be of no use to us. We should go at once to the original--we should consider how men _have acted_--what _have_ been their mutual expectations--their fond propensities--what of these are inconsistent with each other--what are the degrees of indulgence which _have been_ admitted in them all without disturbance.--I will venture to say that whoever does this, will find himself imperceptibly led to contemplate a mixed hereditary monarchy, and will figure to himself a parliament of King, Lords, and Commons, all looking at each other with somewhat of a cautious or jealous eye, while the rest of the nation are fitting, "each under his own vine and under his own fig-tree, and there is none to make him afraid;"--in one word, the Constitution of Great Britain.

A most valuable result of such contemplation will be a thorough conviction that the grievance which is most clamorously insisted on is the inevitable consequence of the liberty and security which we enjoy. I mean ministerial corruption, with all the dismal tale of placemen, and pensioners, and rotten boroughs, &c. &c. These are never seen in a despotic government--there they are not wanted--nor can they be very apparent in an uncultivated and poor state--but in a luxurious nation, where pleasures abound, where the returns of industry are secure; here an individual looks on every thing as his own acquisition--he does not feel his relation to the state--has no patriotism--thinks that he would be much happier if the state would let him alone. He is fretted by the restraints which the public weal lays on him--therefore government and governors appear as checks and hindrances to his exertions--hence a general inclination to resist administration. Yet public business must be done, that we may lie down and rise again in safety and peace. Administration must be supported--there are always persons who wish to possess the power that is exercised by the present ministers, and would turn them out. How is all this to be remedied? I see no way but by applying to the selfish views of individuals--by rewarding the friends of administration--This may be done with perfect virtue--and from this the selfish will conceive hopes, and will support a virtuous ministry--but they are as ready to help a wicked one. This becomes the greatest misfortune of a free nation. Ministers are tempted to bribe--and, if a systematic opposition be considered as a necessary part of a practical constitution, it is almost indispensable--and it is no where so prevalent as in a pure democracy. Laws may be contrived to make it very troublesome, but can never extirpate it nor greatly diminish it: this can be done only by despotism, or by national virtue. It is a shameful complaint--we should not reprobate a few ministers, but the thousands who take the bribes. Nothing tends so much to diminish it in a corrupted nation as great limitations to the eligibility of representatives--and this is the beauty of our constitution.

_We have not discovered_, therefore, by this boasted Illumination, that Princes and superiors are useless, and must vanish from the earth; nor that the people have now attained full age, and are fit to govern themselves. We want only to revel a little on the last fruits of national cultivation, which we would quickly consume, and never allow to be raised again. No matter how this progress began, whether from concession or usurpation--We possess it, and, if wise, we will preserve it, by preserving its indispensable supports. They have indeed been frequently employed very improperly, but their most pernicious abuse has been this breed of scribbling vermin, which have made the body politic smart in every limb.