indifference and discontent of the people, may be considered under the following head: few of them have had fundamental laws, so precise, authentic, and permanent, that recourse could be had to them, in all cases regarding the rights of individuals. A monarchy well ordered does not at all preclude the establishment of the principles of its constitution, nor the rule of its political government, the supports of freedom, nor the security of property. Neither does it hinder the promulgation of laws, nor the functions of those bodies, which are the depositaries of them; the limits placed to the power of imposing these laws, and those to the faculty of remonstrance, the hereditary succession to the throne, and, in short, all that which constitutes the fundamental maxims of the government, might be preserved in a code, or national register, where these great points might be formally inserted, clearly set forth, and immutably passed. In such a system of monarchical rule, it does not appear that the people would be slaves, nor could the sovereign find among his subjects any set of men, either powerful or depraved enough to assist him in trampling on the rights of his subjects. As long as the judicial were so constituted, as to be separate from the regal power, how could the laws be set aside? and this seems to be the only method of destroying freedom. Montesquieu says, "if in a monarchy the sovereign were himself to sit as judge, the constitution would be destroyed." Many of the advantages of a monarchical government existed in the small state of Tuscany; the nation looked up with confidence to laws which they revered, and by which they abided with pleasure; the prince acted according to them, and they were equally binding on him as on his people. Whatever may have been said by Whiggish travellers, who in former times visited regal France, it is well known that many of the advantages we have above described, were enjoyed by the people; and if the portion of freedom felt in that country were not as perfect as might be, it certainly did not result from a thirst of despotic power in the sovereign, but from a want of perfection in the laws, by which the freedom or happiness of the subject were secured. The parliaments of France had always influence enough in the state to represent any grievances which might have arisen, and it was never yet asserted, that the prince was so great an enemy to the welfare of the people, as to deny a remedy merely to prevent them from increasing that security or happiness. If, therefore, these parliaments made no representations of the kind, it could not be expected, that the king were to assume, that an evil existed which it was his business to remedy. Let us now advert to the advantages, which a monarchy, such as has been described, has over our boasted British constitution, as it exists. in speculation. In the first place, though it be equally held as a maxim, that the king can do no wrong, yet he was not so shielded in that respect from public censure as in England; he was also sensible he might do right. He was allowed and admitted to have a faculty within himself of distinguishing right from wrong, which can hardly be said to be admitted, according to the fictitious theory of the British system. Feeling that he is not looked upon as an automaton, he was more likely to feel a pride, as well as a zeal, to act a great and a good part; and though it cannot be supposed that every prince who succeeds will be a hero, yet, if he have the seeds of virtue within him, they will be developed. If he have those of vice, they may also spring up, but the maxims and laws of the state, upheld by the interests of the various classes, will oppose a sufficient barrier to the incroachments of des potism. In England, we are so jealous lest our sovereign should be bad, that we deprive him of every incentive to be great. In a monarchy, the ministers, intrusted with the conduct of public affairs, have full time to employ their minds in the discharge of their duty; and, though they have the public opinion to preserve, and the approbation of the sovereign to obtain, they are free from the anxiety occasioned by a party ever ready to make their projects fail to the detriment of their country, rather than that they should acquire reputation. Hence the factions, to which the British polity is so liable, have no place; the government is respected by all at home, and its agents abroad are chosen particularly on account of their talents, and' not in order to secure a precarious and mercenary support from factious individuals. Such a government alone can adopt fixed maxims of political conduct; it can foresee events, and prepare for them; it is not a government whose movements are purely passive, as we have shown the British to be, acting only from external impulse; it can operate uniformly to a particular object, having, as it were, the initiative of its own movements within itself. It is capable of that prudential secrecy, which, in war, as well as negociation, is highly essential to success; it obtains confidence abroad, because there are no captious men, who often imprudently call for papers and documents to be made public; and by that means, while they create distrust towards the government, the safety of individuals is often cruelly sported with. What must the Spaniards think of the confidence they ought to repose in the British government, when it was daily expected, a party would come into power, who, would abandon the peninsula? Will they not say, "if the British government is not perfidious, surely it is so unstable, that we can trust it no more than if it were professedly treacherous?" It has already been attempted, in the former part of this treatise, to show the inconsistency and selfcounteracting principle of our polity: many will revert to the old idea, that all kings are tyrants in their hearts; it has been demonstrated that it is neither their interest, nor is it very likely to be their inclination; and there is no farther auswer to make. It must, however, be stated, that the leaders of factions in popular governments have always been more prone to the abuse of power than hereditary monarchs. If it is asked, whether it would not be a badge of the most abject slavery to have taxes imposed, without the consent of the different orders of the state, it may be answered that no such con dition is necessary to monarchy. And if it were, no monarch could ever have ventured, from his own authority, to impose as many as we have experienced in this country since 1688; and while by this means a greater sum has been raised on this people than any other in pro-' portion ever yet known, the factions, which have contended for power, have so perverted the expenditure of them, that the greater part may be literally considered as wasted. If Great Britain has been prosperous, rich, and powerful, during the above period, it has been certainly in spite of these defects, and not in consequence of them. The advocates for the parliamentary system object to pure monarchy, by saying, "We are ready to grant that while you have a great and good man at your head, monarchy may perhaps be the best of governments; and we may even allow that the chance may be in favor of his merits, on the supposition of his being well instructed; but, should that happen to fail, what remedy have you to offer in that. case? it is then you would regret there were no parliament to oppose him, and your prince would enslave you without your being able to oppose one single barrier to his usurpation." Let it first be remembered, that a violation of the fundamental laws of the monarchy by the sovereign is not so easy as is generally supposed. If the public cry out against this breach of faith, by what means can he inforce it? His army must stand by him, but it is composed of the nobility, gentry, and others of his empire: such an army would scarcely ever be the dupes of a depraved and wicked prince. Should he find other means to fly in the face of the law, and that it was submitted to at the moment, still such an act would never become a precedent; it would be unconstitutional, and it would be an anomaly in the practice of the government.' When a great representative assembly, by a vote, oversteps a fundamental principle, it receives a kind of sanction from the fiction carried with it, that it is the act and deed of the nation. If the public opinion declare against it, though every one sees that the assembly has ceased to be the people, yet the spirit of faction will support them, and that spirit will mask itself under the title of the people. The long parliament thus deprived the people of the trial by jury in cases of treason; and they violated the articles of that very petition of right, which they had obtained from Charles. In comparing the two foregoing propositions, admitting them each to be fraught with their peculiar inconveniences, it seems much more easy to find redress in a monarchy, than in a popular government; and for this reason the Monarch stands alone. He sets himself against the laws, and the public opinion. As an individual, he has fewer means of resistance to the general will, than an assembly, who pretend to represent the nation, and who call themselves the people. Thus the grossest acts of tyranny were committed by the National Convention in France, against that very people, in whose name they + * Aristotle Polit. 1, 3. cap. 10. καὶ ἡ φυλακὴ δὲ βασιλικὴ καὶ οὐ τυραννικὴ διὰ ταυτὴν τὴν αἰτίαν. Οἱ γὰρ πολίται φυλάττουσιν ὅπλοις τοὺς βασιλεῖς· τοὺς δε τυράννους ξενικόν. were promulgated. This sometimes divides the nation into two parties, and the most atrocious and profligate side with them; these assume, exclusively, the name of THE PEOPLE; the better sort are reduced by that means to be no more than the meticks, or denizens, of Athens, without being citizens, by this preversion of terms. The acts of this party assume the semblance of law, founded on the fiction, that they still are what they were in the origin of their institution, and the very perversion of the constitution becomes the constitution itself. Evident as this fallacy may appear, it becomes seditious and treasonable to utter it, and the evil becomes permanent; the consent of the people is thus assumed to overthrow that very unity of opinion, which they may cherish against it. In both cases above described,—that is, first-a Monarchendeavouring to render himself a despot, or a body of representatives roundly asserting, "We are the nation, and you are all nothing but individuals;" all that can be observed is, that both the governments have degenerated from their original spirit, and that each government ought to be brought back to its own principle. 1 In the one case, his successor may revert to the old system; but if the reigning Prince be obstinate, his subjects have no other resource, but in open resistance to his power. In the other case, is it to be expected, that a body so constituted, as the assembly above described, will have the candor to confess, that they are not constitutionally what they announce themselves to be? They will be more obstinate than the Monarch above described; and from their connexions in the provinces, will be much more difficult to reduce to terms. Indeed, in all such examples it will be found, that they have ever succeeded entirely to subdue the people, and continue their career, until a military despot destroyed their power. History has furnished us with no example of the reform of a corrupt and tyrannical government, but either from intestine war, or conquest from without. Thus, the objection against a simple monarchy, because there is no remedy for its abuse, holds the same, but in a greater degree, against any other form. Each is borne with as long as possible, and when the evil is at its greatest height, the nation either rises against it, or, not having the means of so doing, sinks into abject degradation and misery. The great error of all statesmen has been, to imagine they could form a government to stand for ever. This is impossible; for whatever government be constituted, it will only remain what it was intended to be, until the principle, on which it is founded, ceases to actuate it. From the above it appears, that a Prince, who tramples on the laws of his kingdom, is in greater danger of being reduced to retract, than such an assembly as has been described. The bulk of mankind may sometimes be too strong for the former; the latter will always find means to arm one portion of the nation against the other, and thus cause the greatest evils. Despotism is less likely to take a deep root, when introduced by a legitimate monarch, than when it is brought forward by a combination of powerful oligarchs, who always find means to enslave their countrymen in detail. It appears from this reasoning, that the liberty of the subject may be as well secured in a monarchy, as in any other form of government; that to attribute the evils resulting from the degradation of that government, to the government itself, is fallacious. The abuse of the best of laws produces mischief, but the law is not to be blamed on that account. If we acknowledge a trial by jury to be an excellent institution, ought we to assume, that it is bad, because it may be sometimes in the power of a bad man to pervert its beneficial purposes? The theory of the British government, taken in the abstract, is certainly one of the most sublime conceptions of the human mind. The objections to it, made here, are not under a supposition, that the practice once was what writers have described: had that ever been the case, it were more easy to propose a method of reducing it to its original principle. If any man deny this position, let him say at what period the practice of the government coincided with the descriptions we have either from Blackstone, De Lolme, or Montesquieu, or any other writer: and if he do not choose to take any of these as the ideal model, let him tell us where it is to be found? It is to be, however, lamented, that, with all the security we enjoy under its protection, it should be subject to the glaring defects above pointed out; and if any one openly declare his doubts, that it can be divested of them by increasing, rather than diminishing, the royal authority, he may be excused, unless his adversaries are prepared to point out at what period, since 1688, it was ever free from them.' In reasoning on the structure of governments, we are often apt to be carried away by the abstract reasoning of writers. Montesquieu, De Lolme, Adams, and others, dwell much on the necessity of dividing the legislative, from the executive, power; and the generality of readers take it into their heads, that this distinction really exists! In republican governments, the law is made by the predominant faction; these hold the offices under the government, and they execute it. In Great Britain, a new law is proposed in parliament; it passes both Houses, but it is presented to the King for his sanction. Until that is the case, it is not a law, though the parliament has approved it; and it is laid at the foot of the throne, rather as a prayer of the nation, assembled by their representatives, requesting that such be made a law; thus, by the fiction of the constitution, even here the King appears the lawgiver. The real fact is, however, that according to the practice, the law passed and sanctioned is no other than the deed of the predominant faction. In both these cases, the legislative, and the executive power, seem by no means so distinguished as writers have told us. In France, the legislative power was no sooner assumed by the National Assembly, than the executive was transferred to them, and the throne was overturned. 'See Dalrymple's Memoirs, vol. III. p.8. |