Part 11

Here Dr. ARBUTHNOT could not contain himself; and the castle happening at that time, from the point where they stood, to present the most superb prospect, “Look there, said he, on the striking, though small, remnants of that grandeur you just now magnified so much; and tell me if, in your conscience, you can believe such grants are the signs, or were the effects, of avarice. For you are not to learn, that this palace before us is not the only one in the kingdom, which bears the memory of the queen’s bounty to her servants.”

Mr. ADDISON seemed a little struck with the earnestness of this address: “It is true, said he, the queen’s fondness for one or two of her favourites made her sometimes lavish of her grants; especially of what cost her nothing, and did not, it seems, offend the delicacy of her scruples; I mean, of the _church-lands_. But at the same time her treasury was shut against her ambassadors and foreign ministers; who complain of nothing more frequently than the slenderness of their appointments, and the small and slow remittances that were made to them. This frugality (for I must not call it by a worse name) distressed the public service on many occasions[100]; and would have done it on more, if the zeal of her trusty servants had not been content to carry it on at the expence of their own fortunes. How many instances might be given of this, if ONE were not more than sufficient, and which all posterity will remember with indignation!

You speak of WALSINGHAM, interposed Dr. ARBUTHNOT. But were it not more candid to impute the poverty of that minister to his own generous contempt of riches, which he had doubtless many, fair occasions of procuring to himself, than to any designed neglect of him by his mistress?

The candour, returned Mr. ADDISON, must be very extraordinary, that can find an excuse for the queen in a circumstance that doubles her disgrace. But be it as you pretend. The uncommon moderation of the man shall be a cover to the queen’s parsimony. It was not, we will say, for this wise princess to provoke an appetite for wealth in her servants: it was enough that she gratified it, on proper occasions, where she found it already raised. And in this proceeding, no doubt, she was governed by a tender regard, for their honour, as well as her own interest. For how is her great secretary ennobled, by filling a place in the short list of those worthies, who, having lived and died in the service of their countries, have left not so much as a pittance behind them, to carry them to their graves! All this is very well. But when she had indulged this humour in one or two of her favourites, and suffered them, for example’s sake, to ascend to these heights of honour, it was going, methinks, a little too far, to expect the same delicacy of virtue in all her courtiers. Yet it was not her fault, if most of them did not reap this fame of illustrious poverty, as well as WALSINGHAM. She dealt by them, indeed, as if she had ranked poverty, as well as celibacy, among the cardinal virtues.

In the mean time, I would not deny that she had a princely fondness for shew and appearance. She took a pride in the brilliancy of her court. She delighted in the large trains of her nobility. She required to be royally entertained by them. And she thought her honour concerned in the figure they made in foreign courts, and in the wars. But, if she loved this pomp, she little cared to furnish the expence of it. She considered in good earnest (as some have observed, who would have the observation pass for a compliment[101]) _the purses of her subjects as her own_; and seemed to reckon on their being always open to her on any occasion of service, or even ceremony. She carried this matter so far, that the very expences of her wars were rather defrayed out of the private purses of her nobility, than the public treasury. As if she had taken it for a part of her _prerogative_ to impoverish her nobles at pleasure; or rather, as if she had a mind to have it thought that one of their _privileges_ was, to be allowed to ruin themselves from a zeal to her service.

But the queen’s avarice, proceeded he, did not only appear from her excessive parsimony in the management of the public treasure, but from her rapacity in getting what she could from particulars into her privy purse. Hence it was that all offices, and even personal favours, were in a manner set to sale. For it was a rule with her majesty, to grant no suit but for a reasonable consideration. So that whoever pretended to any place of profit or honour was sure to send a jewel, or other rich present beforehand, to prepare her mind for the entertainment of his petition. And to what other purpose was it that she kept her offices so long vacant, but to give more persons an opportunity of winning a preference in her favour; which for the most part inclined to those who had appeared, in this interval, to deserve it best? Nay, the slightest disgust, which she frequently took on very frivolous occasions, could not be got over but by the reconciling means of some valuable or well fancied present. And, what was most grievous, she sometimes accepted the present, without remitting the offence.

I remember a ridiculous instance of this sort. When the Lady LEICESTER wanted to obtain the pardon of her unfortunate son, the Lord ESSEX, she presented the queen with an exceeding rich gown, to the value of above an hundred pounds. She was well pleased with the gift, but thought no more of the pardon. We need not, after this, wonder at what is said of her majesty’s leaving a prodigious quantity of jewels and plate behind her, and even a _crowded wardrobe_. For so prevalent was this thrifty humour in the queen’s highness, that she could not persuade herself to part with so much, as a cast-gown to any of her servants[102].

You allow yourself to be very gay, replied Dr. ARBUTHNOT, on this foible of the great queen. But one thing you forget, that it never biased her judgment so far as to prevent a fit choice of her servants on all occasions[103]. And, as to her wary management of the public revenue, which you take a pleasure to exaggerate, this, methinks, is a venial fault in a prince, who could not, in her circumstances; have provided for the expences of government, but by the nicest and most attentive economy.

I understand, said Mr. ADDISON, the full force of that consideration; and believe it was that _attention_ principally, which occasioned the popularity of her reign, and the high esteem, in which the wisdom of her government is held to this day. The bulk of her subjects were, no doubt, highly pleased to find themselves spared on all occasions of expence. And it served at the same time, to gratify their natural envy of the great, to find, that _their_ fortunes were first and principally sacrificed to the public service. Nay, I am not sure that the very rapacity of her nature, in the sale of her offices, was any objection with the people at large, or even the lower gentry of the kingdom. For these, having no pretensions themselves to those offices, would be well enough pleased to see them not _bestowed_ on their betters, but dearly purchased by them. And then this traffic at court furnished the inferior gentry with a pretence for making the most of their magistracies. This practice at least must have been very notorious amongst them, when a facetious member of the lower house could define a justice of peace to be, “A living creature, that for half a dozen of chickens, will dispense with a whole dozen of penal statutes[104].” But, however this be, the queen’s ends, in every view, were abundantly answered. She enriched herself: she gained the affections of the people, and depressed and weakened the nobility. And by all these ways she effectually provided for, what she had ever most at heart, her own supreme and uncontrolled authority.

And is that to be wondered at in a great prince? returned Dr. ARBUTHNOT. Or, to take the matter in the light you place it, what if the queen had so much of her sex[105] and family in her disposition, as to like well enough to have her own way, is this such a crime as you would make of it? If she loved power, it was not to make a wanton or oppressive use of it. And if all princes knew as well to bound their own wills, as she did, we should not much complain of their impatience to be under the control of their subjects.

I am sorry, said Mr. ADDISON, that the acts of her reign will not allow me to come into this opinion of her moderation. On the other hand, her government appears to me, in many instances, OPPRESSIVE, and highly prejudicial to the ancient rights and privileges of her people. For what other construction can we make of her frequent interposition to restrain the counsels of their representatives in parliament: threatening some, imprisoning others, and silencing all with the thunder of her prerogative? Or, when she had suffered their counsels to ripen into bills, what shall we say of her high and mighty rejection of them, and that not in single and extraordinary cases, but in matters of ordinary course, and by dozens? I pass by other instances. But was her _moderation_ seen in dilapidating the revenues of the church; of that church, which she took under the wing of her supremacy, and would be thought to have sheltered from all its enemies[106]. The honest archbishop PARKER, I have heard, ventured to remonstrate against this abuse, the cognizance of which came so directly within his province. But to what effect, may be gathered, not only from the continuance of these depredations, but her severe reprehension of another of her bishops, whom she threatened with an oath to UNFROCK—that was her majesty’s own word—if he did not immediately give way to her princely extortions.

It may be hardly worth while to take notice of smaller matters. But who does not resent her capricious tyranny, in disgracing such of her servants as presumed to deviate, on any pretence, from her good pleasure; nay, such as gave an implicit obedience to her will, if it stood with her interest to disgrace them? Something, I know, may be said to excuse the proceedings against the queen of _Scots_. But the fate of DAVISON will reflect eternal dishonour on the policy, with which that measure was conducted.

I run over these things hastily, continued Mr. ADDISON, and in no great order: but you will see what to conclude from these hints; which taken together, I believe, may furnish a proper answer to the most considerable parts of your apology.

To sum it up in few words. Those two great events of her time, THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE REFORMATION, and THE TRIUMPH OVER THE POWER OF SPAIN, cast an uncommon lustre on the reign of ELIZABETH. Posterity, dazzled with these obvious successes, went into an excessive admiration of her personal virtues. And what has served to brighten them the more, is the place in which we chance to find her, between the bigot queen on the one hand, and the pedant king on the other. No wonder then that, on the first glance, her government should appear able, and even glorious. Yet, in looking into particulars, we find that much is to be attributed to fortune, as well as skill; and that her glory is even lessened by considerations, which, on a careless view, may seem to augment it. The difficulties, she had to encounter, were great. Yet these very difficulties, of themselves, created the proper means to surmount them. They sharpened the wits, inflamed the spirits, and united the affections, of a whole people. The name of her great enemy on the continent, at that time, carried terror with it. Yet his power was, in reality, much less than it appeared. The _Spanish_ empire was corrupt and weak, and tottered under its own weight. But this was a secret even to the _Spaniard_ himself. In the mean time, the confidence, which the opinion of great strength inspires, was a favourable circumstance. It occasioned a remissness and neglect of counsel on one side, in proportion as it raised the utmost vigilance and circumspection on the other. But this was not all. The religious feuds in the Low Countries—the civil wars in _France_—the distractions of _Scotland_—all concurred to advance the fortunes of ELIZABETH. Yet all had, perhaps, been too little in that grand crisis of her fate, and, as it fell out, of her glory, if the conspiring elements themselves had not fought for her.

Such is the natural account of her foreign triumphs. Her domestic successes admit as easy a solution. Those external dangers themselves, the genius of the time, the state of religious parties, nay, the very factions of her court, all of them directly, or by the slightest application of her policy, administered to her greatness. Such was the condition of the times, that it forced her to assume the resemblance, at least, of some popular _virtues_: and so singular her fortune, that her very _vices_ became as respectable, perhaps more useful to her reputation, than her virtues. She was vigilant in her counsels; careful in the choice of her servants; courteous and condescending to her subjects. She appeared to have an extreme tenderness for the interests, and an extreme zeal for the honour, of the nation. This was the bright side of her character; and it shone the brighter from the constant and imminent dangers, to which she was exposed. On the other hand, she was choleric, and imperious; jealous, timid, and avaricious: oppressive, as far as she durst; in many cases capricious, in some tyrannical. Yet these vices, some of them sharpened and refined her policy, and the rest, operating chiefly towards her courtiers and dependents, strengthened her authority, and rooted her more firmly in the hearts of the people. The mingled splendour of these qualities, good and bad (for even her worst had the luck, when seen but on one side, or in well-disposed lights to look like good ones) so far dazzled the eyes of all, that they did not, or would not, see many outrageous acts of tyranny and oppression.

And thus it hath come to pass that, with some ability, more cunning, and little real virtue, the name of ELIZABETH is, by the concurrence of many accidental causes, become the most revered of any in the long roll of our princes. How little she merited this honour, may appear from this slight sketch of her character and government. Yet, when all proper abatement is made in both, I will not deny her to have been a great, that is, a _fortunate_, queen; in this, perhaps, the most fortunate, that she has attained to so unrivalled a glory with so few pretensions to deserve it.

And so, replied Dr. ARBUTHNOT, you have concluded your invective in full form, and rounded it, as the ancient orators used to do, with all the advantage of a peroration. But, setting aside this trick of eloquence, which is apt indeed to confound a plain man, unused to such artifices, I see not but you have left the argument much as you took it up; and that I may still have leave to retain my former reverence for the good old times of queen ELIZABETH. It is true, she had some foibles. You have spared, I believe, none of them. But, to make amends for these defects, let but the history of her reign speak for her, I mean in its own artless language, neither corrupted by flattery, nor tortured by invidious glosses; and we must ever conceive of her, I will not say as the most faultless, perhaps not the most virtuous, but surely the most able, and, from the splendour of some leading qualities, the most glorious of our _English_ monarchs.

To give you my notion of her in few Words.—For the dispute, I find, must end, as most others usually do, in the simple representation of our own notions.—She was discreet, frugal, provident, and sagacious; intent on the pursuit of her great ends, _the establishment of religion_, and _the security and honour of her people_: prudent in the choice of the best _means_ to effect them, the employment of able servants, and the management of the public revenue; dexterous at improving all advantages which her own wisdom or the circumstances of the times gave her: fearless and intrepid in the execution of great designs, yet careful to unite the deepest foresight with her magnanimity. If she seemed AVARICIOUS, let it be considered that the nicest frugality was but necessary in her situation: if IMPERIOUS, that a female government needed to be made respectable by a shew of authority: and if at any time OPPRESSIVE, that the _English_ constitution, as it then stood, as well as her own nature, had a good deal of that bias.

In a word, let it be remembered, that she had the honour of ruling[107], perhaps of forming, the wisest, the bravest, the most, virtuous people, that have adorned any age or country; and that she advanced the glory of the _English_ name and that of her own dignity to a height, which has no parallel in the annals of our nation.

Mr. DIGBY, who had been very attentive to the course of this debate, was a little disappointed with the conclusion of it. He thought to have settled his judgment of this reign by the information his two friends should afford him. But he found himself rather perplexed by their altercations, than convinced by them. He owned, however, the pleasure they had given him; and said, he had profited so much at least by the occasion, that, for the future, he should conceive with something less reverence of the great queen, and should proceed with less prejudice to form his opinion of her character and administration.

Mr. ADDISON did not appear quite satisfied with this sceptical conclusion; and was going to enforce some things, which he thought had been touched too slightly, when Dr. ARBUTHNOT took notice that their walk was now at an end; the path, they had taken, having by this time brought them round again to the walls of the castle. Besides, he said, he found himself much wearied with this exercise; though the warmth of debate, and the opportunities he took of resting himself at times, had kept him from complaining of it. He proposed, therefore, getting into the coach as soon as possible; where, though the conversation was in some sort resumed, there was nothing material enough advanced on either side to make it necessary for me to continue this recital any further.

DIALOGUE V.

ON THE

CONSTITUTION

OF THE

ENGLISH GOVERNMENT.

BETWEEN

SIR JOHN MAYNARD, MR. SOMERS,

AND

BISHOP BURNET.

DIALOGUE V.

ON THE CONSTITUTION OF THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT.

SIR JOHN MAYNARD, MR. SOMERS, BISHOP BURNET[108].

TO DR. TILLOTSON.

Though the principles of nature and common sense do fully authorise resistance to the civil magistrate in extreme cases, and of course justify the late Revolution to every candid and dispassionate man; yet I am sensible, my excellent friend, there are many prejudices which hinder the glorious proceedings in that affair from being seen in their true light. The principal of them, indeed, are founded on false systems of policy, and those tied down on the consciences of men by wrong notions of religion. And such as these, no doubt, through the experience of a better government, and a juster turn of thinking, which may be expected to prevail in our times, will gradually fall away of themselves.

But there is another set of notions on this subject, not so easy to be discredited, and which are likely to keep their hold on the minds even of the more sober and considerate sort of men. For whatever advantage the cause of liberty may receive from general reasonings on the origin and nature of civil government, the greater part of our countrymen will consider, and perhaps rightly, the inquiry into the constitution of _their_ own government, as a question of FACT; that must be tried by authorities and precedents only; and decided at last by the evidence of historical testimony, not by the conclusions of philosophy or political speculation.

Now, though we are agreed that this way of managing the controversy must, when fully and fairly pursued, be much in favour of the new settlement, yet neither, I think, is it for every man’s handling, nor is the evidence resulting from it of a nature to compel our assent. The argument is formed on a vast variety of particulars, to be collected only from a large and intimate acquaintance with the antiquities, laws, and usages of the kingdom. Our printed histories are not only very short and imperfect; but the original records, which the curious have in their possession, are either so obscure or so scanty, that a willing adversary hath always in readiness some objection, or some cavil at least, to oppose to the evidence that may be drawn from them. Besides, appearances, even in the plainest and most unquestioned parts of our history, are sometimes so contradictory; arising either from the tyranny of the prince, the neglect of the people, or some other circumstance of the times; and, to crown all, the question itself hath been so involved by the disputations of prejudiced and designing men; that the more intelligent inquirer is almost at a loss to determine for himself, on which side the force of evidence lies.

On this account I have frequently thought with myself, that a right good CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY of _England_ would be the noblest service that any man, duly qualified for the execution of such a work, could render to his country. For though, as I said, the subject be obscure in itself, and perplexed by the subtilties which contending parties have invented for the support of their several schemes; yet, from all I have been able to observe in the course of my own reading, or conversation, there is little doubt but that the form of the _English_ government hath, at all times, been FREE. So that, if such a history were drawn up with sufficient care out of our authentic papers and public monuments, it would not only be matter of entertainment to the curious, but the greatest security to every _Englishman_ of his religions and civil rights. For what can be conceived, more likely to preserve and perpetuate these rights, than the standing evidence which such a work would afford, of the genuine spirit and temper of the constitution? Of the principles of freedom[109], on which it was formed, and on which it hath been continually and uniformly conducted? Our youth, who at present amuse themselves with little more than the military part of our annals, would then have an easy opportunity of seeing to the bottom of all our civil and domestic broils. They would know on what pretences the PREROGATIVE of our kings hath sometimes aspired to exalt itself above controul; and would learn to revere the magnanimity of their forefathers, who as constantly succeeded in their endeavours to reduce it within the ancient limits and boundaries of the LAW. In a word, they would no longer rest on the surface and outside, as it were, of the _English_ affairs, but would penetrate the interior parts of our constitution; and furnish themselves with a competent degree of civil and political wisdom; the most solid fruit that can be gathered from the knowledge and experience of past times.

And I am ready to think that such a provision as this, for the instruction of the _English_ youth, may be the more requisite, on account of that limited indeed, yet awful form of government, under which we live. For, besides the name, and other ensigns of majesty, in common with those who wear the most despotic crown, the whole execution of our laws, and the active part of government, is in the hands of the prince. And this pre-eminence gives him so respectable a figure in the eyes of his subjects, and presents him so constantly, and with such lustre of authority, to their minds, that it is no wonder they are sometimes disposed to advance him, from the rank of first magistrate of a free people, into that of supreme and sole arbiter of the laws.