No More Learning

The arguments used by Dr. Robertson, to prove the genuineness of the
letters, are next examined. Robertson makes use, principally, of what he
calls the _internal evidence_, which, amounting, at most, to conjecture,
is opposed by conjecture equally probable.

In examining the confession of Nicholas Hubert, or French Paris, this
new apologist of Mary seems to gain ground upon her accuser. Paris is
mentioned, in the letters, as the bearer of them to Bothwell; when the
rest of Bothwell's servants were executed, clearing the queen in the
last moment, Paris, instead of suffering his trial, with the rest, at
Edinburgh, was conveyed to St. Andrew's, where Murray was absolute; put
into a dungeon of Murray's citadel; and, two years after, condemned by
Murray himself, nobody knew how. Several months after his death, a
confession in his name, without the regular testifications, was sent to
Cecil, at what exact time, nobody can tell.

Of this confession, Leslie, bishop of Ross, openly denied the
genuineness, in a book printed at London, and suppressed by Elizabeth;
and another historian of that time declares, that Paris died without any
confession; and the confession itself was never shown to Mary, or to
Mary's commissioners. The author makes this reflection:

"From the violent presumptions that arise from their carrying this poor
ignorant stranger from Edinburgh, the ordinary seat of justice; their
keeping him hid from all the world, in a remote dungeon, and not
producing him, with their other evidences, so as he might have been
publickly questioned; the positive and direct testimony of the author of
Crawfurd's manuscript, then living, and on the spot at the time; with
the publick affirmation of the bishop of Ross, at the time of Paris's
death, that he had vindicated the queen with his dying breath; the
behaviour of Murray, Morton, Buchanan, and even of Hay, the attester of
this pretended confession, on that occasion; their close and reserved
silence, at the time when they must have had this confession of Paris in
their pocket; and their publishing every other circumstance that could
tend to blacken the queen, and yet omitting this confession, the only
direct evidence of her supposed guilt; all this duly and dispassionately
considered, I think, one may safely conclude, that it was judged not fit
to expose, so soon, to light this piece of evidence against the queen;
which a cloud of witnesses, living, and present at Paris's execution,
would, surely, have given clear testimony against, as a notorious
imposture. "

Mr. Hume, indeed, observes: "It is in vain, at present, to seek for
improbabilities in Nicholas Hubert's dying confession, and to magnify
the smallest difficulties into a contradiction. It was certainly a
regular judicial paper, given in regularly and judicially, and ought to
have been canvassed at the time, if the persons, whom it concerned, had
been assured of their innocence. " To which our author makes a reply,
which cannot be shortened without weakening it:

"Upon what does this author ground his sentence? Upon two very plain
reasons, first, that the confession was a judicial one, that is, taken
in presence, or by authority of a judge. And secondly, that it was
regularly and judicially given in; that must be understood during the
time of the conferences before queen Elizabeth and her council, in
presence of Mary's commissioners; at which time she ought to have
canvassed it," says our author, "if she knew her innocence.

"That it was not a judicial confession, is evident: the paper itself
does not bear any such mark; nor does it mention, that it was taken in
presence of any person, or by any authority whatsoever; and, by
comparing it with the judicial examinations of Dalgleish, Hay, and
Hepburn, it is apparent, that it is destitute of every formality,
requisite in a judicial evidence. In what dark corner, then, this
strange production was generated, our author may endeavour to find out,
if he can.

"As to his second assertion, that it was regularly and judicially given
in, and, therefore, ought to have been canvassed, by Mary during the
conferences; we have already seen, that this, likewise, is not fact: the
conferences broke up in February, 1569: Nicholas Hubert was not hanged
till August thereafter, and his dying confession, as Mr. Hume calls it,
is only dated the 10th of that month. How, then, can this gentleman
gravely tell us, that this confession was judicially given in, and ought
to have been, at that very time, canvassed by queen Mary and her
commissioners? Such positive assertions, apparently contrary to fact,
are unworthy the character of an historian, and may, very justly, render
his decision, with respect to evidences of a higher nature, very
dubious. In answer, then, to Mr. Hume: As the queen's accusers did not
choose to produce this material witness, Paris, whom they had alive and
in their hands, nor any declaration or confession, from him, at the
critical and proper time for having it canvassed by the queen, I
apprehend our author's conclusion may fairly be used against himself;
that it is in vain, at present, to support the improbabilities and
absurdities in a confession, taken in a clandestine way, nobody knows
how, and produced, after Paris's death, by nobody knows whom, and, from
every appearance, destitute of every formality, requisite and common to
such sort of evidence: for these reasons, I am under no sort of
hesitation to give sentence against Nicholas Hubert's confession, as a
gross imposture and forgery. "

The state of the evidence relating to the letters is this:

Morton affirms, that they were taken in the hands of Dalgleish. Hie
examination of Dalgleish is still extant, and he appears never to have
been once interrogated concerning the letters.

Morton and Murray affirm, that they were written by the queen's hand;
they were carefully concealed from Mary and her commissioners, and were
never collated by one man, who could desire to disprove them.

Several of the incidents mentioned in the letters are confirmed by the
oath of Crawfurd, one of Lennox's defendants, and some of the incidents
are so minute, as that they could scarcely be thought on by a forger.
Crawfurd's testimony is not without suspicion. Whoever practises
forgery, endeavours to make truth the vehicle of falsehood.

Of a prince's life very minute incidents are known; and if any are too
slight to be remarked, they may be safely feigned, for they are,
likewise, too slight to be contradicted. But there are still more
reasons for doubting the genuineness of these letters. They had no date
of time or place, no seal, no direction, no superscription.

The only evidences that could prove their authenticity were Dalgleish
and Paris; of which Dalgleish, at his trial, was never questioned about
them; Paris was never publickly tried, though he was kept alive through
the time of the conference.

The servants of Bothwell, who were put to death for the king's murder,
cleared Mary with their last words.

The letters were first declared to be subscribed, and were then produced
without subscription.

They were shown, during the conferences at York, privately, to the
English commissioners, but were concealed from the commissioners of
Mary.

Mary always solicited the perusal of these letters, and was always
denied it.

She demanded to be heard, in person, by Elizabeth, before the nobles of
England and the ambassadours of other princes, and was refused.

When Mary persisted in demanding copies of the letters, her
commissioners were dismissed with their box to Scotland, and the letters
were seen no more.

The French letters, which, for almost two centuries, have been
considered as originals, by the enemies of Mary's memory, are now
discovered to be forgeries, and acknowledged to be translations, and,
perhaps, French translations of a Latin translation. And the modern
accusers of Mary are forced to infer, from these letters, which now
exist, that other letters existed formerly, which have been lost, in
spite of curiosity, malice, and interest.

The rest of this treatise is employed in an endeavour to prove, that
Mary's accusers were the murderers of Darnly: through this inquiry it is
hot necessary to follow him; only let it be observed, that, if these
letters were forged by them, they may easily be thought capable of other
crimes. That the letters were forged, is now made so probable, that,
perhaps, they will never more be cited as testimonies.




MARMOR NORFOLCIENSE:

Or, an essay on an ancient prophetical inscription, in monkish rhyme,
lately discovered near Lynn, in Norfolk. By Probus Britannicus [17].


In Norfolk, near the town of Lynn, in a field, which an ancient
tradition of the country affirms to have been once a deep lake, or meer,
and which appears, from authentick records, to have been called, about
two hundred years ago, _Palus_, or the marsh, was discovered, not long
since, a large square stone, which is found, upon an exact inspection,
to be a kind of coarse marble of a substance not firm enough to admit of
being polished, yet harder than our common quarries afford, and not
easily susceptible of injuries from weather or outward accidents.

It was brought to light by a farmer, who, observing his plough
obstructed by something, through which the share could not make its way,
ordered his servants to remove it. This was not effected without some
difficulty, the stone being three feet four inches deep, and four feet
square in the superficies; and, consequently, of a weight not easily
manageable. However, by the application of levers, it was, at length,
raised, and conveyed to a corner of the field, where it lay, for some
months, entirely unregarded; nor, perhaps, had we ever been made
acquainted with this venerable relick of antiquity, had not our good
fortune been greater than our curiosity.

A gentleman, well known to the learned world, and distinguished by the
patronage of the Maecenas of Norfolk, whose name, was I permitted to
mention it, would excite the attention of my reader, and add no small
authority to my conjectures, observing, as he was walking that way, that
the clouds began to gather, and threaten him with a shower, had
recourse, for shelter, to the trees under which this stone happened to
lie, and sat down upon it, in expectation of fair weather. At length he
began to amuse himself, in his confinement, by clearing the earth from
his seat with the point of his cane; and had continued this employment
some time, when he observed several traces of letters, antique and
irregular, which, by being very deeply engraven, were still easily
distinguishable.

This discovery so far raised his curiosity, that, going home
immediately, he procured an instrument proper for cutting out the clay,
that filled up the spaces of the letters; and, with very little labour,
made the inscription legible, which is here exhibited to the publick:

POST-GENITIS.

Cum lapidem hunc, magni
Qui nunc jacet incola stagni,
Vel pede equus tanget,
Vel arator vomere franget,
Sentiet aegra metus,
Effundet patria fletus,
Littoraque ut fluctu,
Resonabunt oppida luctu:
Nam foecunda rubri
Serpent per prata colubri,
Gramina vastantes,
Flores fructusque vorantes.
Omnia foedantes,
Vitiantes, et spoliantes;
Quanquam haud pugnaces,
Ibunt per cuncta minaces,
Fures absque timore,
Et pingues absque labore.
Horrida dementes
Rapiet discordia gentes;
Plurima tunc leges
Mutabit, plurima reges
Natio; conversa
In rabiem tunc contremet ursa

MARMOR NORFOLCIENSE

Cynthia, tunc latis
Florebunt lilia pratis;
Nec fremere audebit
Leo, sed violare timebit,
Omnia consuetus
Populari pascua lætus.
Ante oculos natos
Calceatos et cruciatos
Jam feret ignavus,
Vetitaque libidine pravus.
En quoque quod mirum,
Quod dicas denique dirum,
Sanguinem equus sugit,
Neque bellua victa remugit!

These lines he carefully copied, accompanied, in his letter of July 19,
with the following translation.

TO POSTERITY.

Whene'er this stone, now hid beneath the lake,
The horse shall trample, or the plough shall break,
Then, O my country! shalt thou groan distrest,
Grief swell thine eyes, and terrour chill thy breast.
Thy streets with violence of woe shall sound,
Loud as the billows bursting on the ground.
Then through thy fields shall scarlet reptiles stray,
And rapine and pollution mark their way.
Their hungry swarms the peaceful vale shall fright,
Still fierce to threaten, still afraid to fight;
The teeming year's whole product shall devour,
Insatiate pluck the fruit, and crop the flow'r;
Shall glutton on the industrious peasants' spoil,
Rob without fear, and fatten without toil;
Then o'er the world shall discord stretch her wings;
Kings change their laws, and kingdoms change their kings.
The bear, enrag'd, th' affrighted moon shall dread;
The lilies o'er the vales triumphant spread;
Nor shall the lion, wont of old to reign
Despotick o'er the desolated plain,
Henceforth th' inviolable bloom invade,
Or dare to murmur in the flow'ry glade;
His tortur'd sons shall die before his face,
While he lies melting in a lewd embrace;
And, yet more strange! his veins a horse shall drain,
Nor shall the passive coward once complain.

I make not the least doubt, but that this learned person has given us,
as an antiquary, a true and uncontrovertible representation of the
writer's meaning; and, am sure, he can confirm it by innumerable
quotations from the authors of the middle age, should he be publickly
called upon by any man of eminent rank in the republick of letters; nor
will he deny the world that satisfaction, provided the animadverter
proceeds with that sobriety and modesty, with which it becomes every
learned man to treat a subject of such importance.

Yet, with all proper deference to a name so justly celebrated, I will
take the freedom of observing, that he has succeeded better as a scholar
than a poet; having fallen below the strength, the conciseness, and, at
the same time, below the perspicuity of his author. I shall not point
out the particular passages in which this disparity is remarkable, but
content myself with saying, in general, that the criticisms, which there
is room for on this translation, may be almost an incitement to some
lawyer, studious of antiquity, to learn Latin.

The inscription, which I now proceed to consider, wants no arguments to
prove its antiquity to those among the learned, who are versed in the
writers of the darker ages, and know that the Latin poetry of those
times was of a peculiar cast and air, not easy to be understood, and
very difficult to be imitated; nor can it be conceived, that any man
would lay out his abilities on a way of writing, which, though attained
with much study, could gain him no reputation; and engrave his chimeras
on a stone, to astonish posterity.

Its antiquity, therefore, is out of dispute; but how high a degree of
antiquity is to be assigned it, there is more ground for inquiry than
determination. How early Latin rhymes made their appearance in the
world, is yet undecided by the criticks. Verses of this kind were called
leonine; but whence they derived that appellation, the learned Camden
[18] confesses himself ignorant; so that the style carries no certain
marks of its age. I shall only observe farther, on this head, that the
characters are nearly of the same form with those on king Arthur's
coffin; but whether, from their similitude, we may venture to pronounce
them of the same date, I must refer to the decision of better judges.

Our inability to fix the age of this inscription, necessarily infers our
ignorance of its author, with relation to whom, many controversies may
be started, worthy of the most profound learning, and most indefatigable
diligence.

The first question that naturally arises is: Whether he was a Briton or
a Saxon? I had, at first, conceived some hope that, in this question, in
which not only the idle curiosity of virtuosos, but the honour of two
mighty nations, is concerned, some information might be drawn from the
word _patria_, my country, in the third line; England being not, in
propriety of speech, the country of the Saxons; at least, not at their
first arrival. But, upon farther reflection, this argument appeared not
conclusive, since we find that, in all ages, foreigners have affected to
call England their country, even when, like the Saxons of old, they came
only to plunder it.

An argument in favour of the Britons may, indeed, be drawn from the
tenderness, with which the author seems to lament his country, and the
compassion he shows for its approaching calamities. I, who am a
descendant from the Saxons, and, therefore, unwilling to say any thing
derogatory from the reputation of my forefathers, must yet allow this
argument its full force; for it has been rarely, very rarely, known,
that foreigners, however well treated, caressed, enriched, flattered, or
exalted, have regarded this country with the least gratitude or
affection, till the race has, by long continuance, after many
generations, been naturalized and assimilated.

They have been ready, upon all occasions, to prefer the petty interests
of their own country, though, perhaps, only some desolate and worthless
corner of the world. They have employed the wealth of England, in paying
troops to defend mud-wall towns, and uninhabitable rocks, and in
purchasing barriers for territories, of which the natural sterility
secured them from invasion.

This argument, which wants no particular instances to confirm it, is, I
confess, of the greatest weight in this question, and inclines me
strongly to believe, that the benevolent author of this prediction must
have been born a Briton.

The learned discoverer of the inscription was pleased to insist, with
great warmth, upon the etymology of the word _patria_, which signifying,
says he, _the land of my father_, could be made use of by none, but such
whose ancestors had resided here; but, in answer to this demonstration,
as he called it, I only desired him to take notice, how common it is for
intruders of yesterday to pretend the same title with the ancient
proprietors, and, having just received an estate, by voluntary grant, to
erect a claim of _hereditary right_.

Nor is it less difficult to form any satisfactory conjecture, concerning
the rank or condition of the writer, who, contented with a consciousness
of having done his duty, in leaving this solemn warning to his country,
seems studiously to have avoided that veneration, to which his knowledge
of futurity, undoubtedly, entitled him, and those honours, which his
memory might justly claim from the gratitude of posterity; and has,
therefore, left no trace, by which the most sagacious and diligent
inquirer can hope to discover him.

This conduct, alone, ought to convince us, that the prediction is of no
small importance to mankind, since the author of it appears not to have
been influenced by any other motive, than that noble and exalted
philanthropy, which is above the narrow views of recompense or applause.

That interest had no share in this inscription, is evident beyond
dispute, since the age in which he lived received neither pleasure nor
instruction from it. Nor is it less apparent, from the suppression of
his name, that he was equally a stranger to that wild desire of fame,
which has, sometimes, infatuated the noblest minds.

His modesty, however, has not been able wholly to extinguish that
curiosity, which so naturally leads us, when we admire a performance, to
inquire after the author. Those, whom I have consulted on this occasion;
and my zeal for the honour of this benefactor of my country has not
suffered me to forget a single antiquary of reputation, have, almost
unanimously, determined, that it was written by a king. For where else,
said they, are we to expect that greatness of mind, and that dignity of
expression, so eminently conspicuous in this inscription!

It is with a proper sense of the weakness of my own abilities, that I
venture to lay before the publick the reasons which hinder me from
concurring with this opinion, which I am not only inclined to favour by
my respect for the authors of it, but by a natural affection for
monarchy, and a prevailing inclination to believe, that every excellence
is inherent in a king.

To condemn an opinion so agreeable to the reverence due to the regal
dignity, and countenanced by so great authorities, without a long and
accurate discussion, would be a temerity justly liable to the severest
censures. A. supercilious and arrogant determination of a controversy of
such importance, would, doubtless, be treated by the impartial and
candid with the utmost indignation.

But as I have too high an idea of the learning of my contemporaries, to
obtrude any crude, hasty, or indigested notions on the publick, I have
proceeded with the utmost degree of diffidence and caution; I have
frequently reviewed all my arguments, traced them backwards to their
first principles, and used every method of examination to discover,
whether all the deductions were natural and just, and whether I was not
imposed on by some specious fallacy; but the farther I carried my
inquiries, and the longer I dwelt upon this great point, the more was I
convinced, in spite of all my prejudices, that this wonderful prediction
was not written by a king.

For, after a laborious and attentive perusal of histories, memoirs,
chronicles, lives, characters, vindications, panegyricks and epitaphs, I
could find no sufficient authority for ascribing to any of our English
monarchs, however gracious or glorious, any prophetical knowledge or
prescience of futurity; which, when we consider how rarely regal virtues
are forgotten, how soon they are discovered, and how loudly they are
celebrated, affords a probable argument, at least, that none of them
have laid any claim to this character. For why should historians have
omitted to embellish their accounts with such a striking circumstance?
or, if the histories of that age are lost, by length of time, why was
not so uncommon an excellence transmitted to posterity, in the more
lasting colours of poetry? Was that unhappy age without a laureate? Was
there then no Young [19] or Philips [20], no Ward [21] or Mitchell [22],
to snatch such wonders from oblivion, and immortalize a prince of such
capacities? If this was really the case, let us congratulate ourselves
upon being reserved for better days; days so fruitful of happy writers,
that no princely virtue can shine in vain. Our monarchs are surrounded
with refined spirits, so penetrating, that they frequently discover, in
their masters, great qualities, invisible to vulgar eyes, and which, did
not they publish them to mankind, would be unobserved for ever.

Nor is it easy to find, in the lives of our monarchs, many instances of
that regard for posterity, which seems to have been the prevailing
temper of this venerable man. I have seldom, in any of the gracious
speeches delivered from the throne, and received, with the highest
gratitude and satisfaction, by both houses of parliament, discovered any
other concern than for the current year, for which supplies are
generally demanded in very pressing terms, and, sometimes, such as imply
no remarkable solicitude for posterity.

Nothing, indeed, can be more unreasonable and absurd, than to require,
that a monarch, distracted with cares and surrounded with enemies,
should involve himself in superfluous anxieties, by an unnecessary
concern about future generations. Are not pretenders, mock-patriots,
masquerades, operas, birthnights, treaties, conventions, reviews,
drawing-rooms, the births of heirs, and the deaths of queens, sufficient
to overwhelm any capacity but that of a king? Surely, he that acquits
himself successfully of such affairs may content himself with the glory
he acquires, and leave posterity to his successours.

That this has been the conduct of most princes, is evident from the
accounts of all ages and nations; and, therefore, I hope it will not be
thought that I have, without just reasons, deprived this inscription of
the veneration it might demand, as the work of a king.

With what laborious struggles against prejudice and inclination, with
what efforts of reasoning, and pertinacity of self-denial, I have
prevailed upon myself to sacrifice the honour of this monument to the
love of truth, none, who are unacquainted with the fondness of a
commentator, will be able to conceive. But this instance will be, I
hope, sufficient to convince the publick, that I write with sincerity,
and that, whatever my success may be, my intentions are good.

Where we are to look for our author, it still remains to be considered;
whether in the high road of publick employments, or the by-paths of
private life.

It has always been observed of those that frequent a court, that they
soon, by a kind of contagion, catch the regal spirit of neglecting
futurity. The minister forms an expedient to suspend, or perplex, an
inquiry into his measures, for a few months, and applauds and triumphs
in his own dexterity. The peer puts off his creditor for the present
day, and forgets that he is ever to see him more. The frown of a prince,
and the loss of a pension, have, indeed, been found of wonderful
efficacy to abstract men's thoughts from the present time, and fill them
with zeal for the liberty and welfare of ages to come. But, I am
inclined to think more favourably of the author of this prediction, than
that he was made a patriot by disappointment or disgust. If he ever saw
a court, I would willingly believe, that he did not owe his concern for
posterity to his ill reception there, but his ill reception there to his
concern for posterity.

However, since truth is the same in the mouth of a hermit, or a prince,
since it is not reason, but weakness, that makes us rate counsel by our
esteem for the counsellor, let us, at length, desist from this inquiry,
so useless in itself, in which we have room to hope for so little
satisfaction. Let us show our gratitude to the author, by answering his
intentions, by considering minutely the lines which he has left us, and
examining their import without heat, precipitancy, or party-prejudices;
let us endeavour to keep the just mean, between searching, ambitiously,
for far-fetched interpretations, and admitting such low meaning, and
obvious and low sense, as is inconsistent with those great and extensive
views, which it is reasonable to ascribe to this excellent man.

It may be yet further asked, whether this inscription, which appears in
the stone, be an original, and not rather a version of a traditional
prediction, in the old British tongue, which the zeal of some learned
man prompted him to translate and engrave, in a more known language, for
the instruction of future ages: but, as the lines carry, at the first
view, a reference both to the stone itself, and, very remarkably, to the
place where it was found, I cannot see any foundation for such a
suspicion.

It remains, now, that we examine the sense and import of the
inscription, which, after having long dwelt upon it, with the closest
and most laborious attention, I must confess myself not yet able fully
to comprehend. The following explications, therefore, are, by no means,
laid down as certain and indubitable truths, but as conjectures not
always wholly satisfactory, even to myself, and which I had not dared to
propose to so enlightened an age, an age which abounds with those great
ornaments of human nature, skepticks, antimoralists, and infidels, but
with hopes that they would excite some person of greater abilities, to
penetrate further into the oraculous obscurity of this wonderful
prediction.

Not even the four first lines are without their difficulties, in which
the time of the discovery of the stone seems to be the time assigned for
the events foretold by it:

"Cum lapidem hunc, magni
Qui nunc jacet incola stagni,
Vel pede equus tanget,
Vel arator vomere franget,
Sentiet ægra metus,
Effundet patria fletus,
Littoraque ut fluctu,
Resonabunt oppida luctu. "

"Whene'er this stone, now hid beneath the lake,
The horse shall trample, or the plough shall break,
Then, O my country, shall thou groan distrest,
Grief in thine eyes, and terrour in thy breast.
Thy streets with violence of woe shall sound,
Loud as the billows bursting on the ground. "

"When this stone," says he, "which now lies hid beneath the waters of a
deep lake, shall be struck upon by the horse, or broken by the plough,
then shalt thou, my country, be astonished with terrours, and drowned in
tears; then shall thy towns sound with lamentations, as thy shores with
the roarings of the waves. " These are the words literally rendered, but
how are they verified! The lake is dry, the stone is turned up, but
there is no appearance of this dismal scene. Is not all, at home,
satisfaction and tranquillity? all, abroad, submission and compliance?
Is it the interest, or inclination, of any prince, or state, to draw a
sword against us? and are we not, nevertheless, secured by a numerous
standing army, and a king who is, himself, an army? Have our troops any
other employment than to march to a review? Have our fleets encountered
any thing but winds and worms? To me the present state of the nation
seems so far from any resemblance to the noise and agitation of a
tempestuous sea, that it may be much more properly compared to the dead
stillness of the waves before a storm.

"Nam foecunda rubri
Serpent per prata colubri,
Gramina vastantes,
Flores fructusque vorantes,
Omnia foedantes,
Vitiantes, et spoliantes;
Quanquam haud pugnaces,
Ibunt per cuncta minaces,
Fures absque timore,
Et pingues absque labore. "

"Then through thy fields shall scarlet reptiles stray,
And rapine and pollution mark their way;
Their hungry swarms the peaceful vale shall fright,
Still fierce to threaten, still afraid to fight;
The teeming year's whole product shall devour,
Insatiate pluck the fruit, and crop the flow'r;
Shall glutton on the industrious peasants' spoil,
Rob without fear, and fatten without toil. "

He seems, in these verses, to descend to a particular account of this
dreadful calamity; but his description is capable of very different
senses, with almost equal probability:

"Red serpents," says he, (_rubri colubri_ are the Latin words, which the
poetical translator has rendered _scarlet reptiles_, using a general
term for a particular, in my opinion, too licentiously,) "Red serpents
shall wander o'er her meadows, and pillage, and pollute," &c. The
particular mention of the colour of this destructive viper may be some
guide to us in this labyrinth, through which, I must acknowledge, I
cannot yet have any certain path. I confess, that, when a few days after
my perusal of this passage, I heard of the multitude of lady-birds seen
in Kent, I began to imagine that these were the fatal insects, by which
the island was to be laid waste, and, therefore, looked over all
accounts of them with uncommon concern. But, when my first terrours
began to subside, I soon recollected that these creatures, having both
wings and feet, would scarcely have been called serpents; and was
quickly convinced, by their leaving the country, without doing any hurt,
that they had no quality, but the colour, in common with the ravagers
here described.

As I am not able to determine any thing on this question, I shall
content myself with collecting, into one view, the several properties of
this pestiferous brood, with which we are threatened, as hints to more
sagacious and fortunate readers, who, when they shall find any red
animal, that ranges uncontrouled over the country, and devours the
labours of the trader and the husbandman; that carries with it
corruption, rapine, pollution, and devastation; that threatens without
courage, robs without fear, and is pampered without labour, they may
know that the prediction is completed. Let me only remark further, that
if the style of this, as of all other predictions, is figurative, the
serpent, a wretched animal that crawls upon the earth, is a proper
emblem of low views, self-interest, and base submission, as well as of
cruelty, mischief, and malevolence.

I cannot forbear to observe, in this place, that, as it is of no
advantage to mankind to be forewarned of inevitable and insurmountable
misfortunes, the author, probably, intended to hint to his countrymen
the proper remedies for the evils he describes. In this calamity, on
which he dwells longest, and which he seems to deplore with the deepest
sorrow, he points out one circumstance, which may be of great use to
disperse our apprehensions, and awaken us from that panick which the
reader must necessarily feel, at the first transient view of this
dreadful description. These serpents, says the original, are "haud
pugnaces," of no fighting race; they will threaten, indeed, and hiss,
and terrify the weak, and timorous, and thoughtless, but have no real
courage or strength. So that the mischief done by them, their ravages,
devastations, and robberies, must be only the consequences of cowardice
in the sufferers, who are harassed and oppressed, only because they
suffer it without resistance. We are, therefore, to remember, whenever
the pest, here threatened, shall invade us, that submission and tameness
will be certain ruin, and that nothing but spirit, vigilance, activity,
and opposition, can preserve us from the most hateful and reproachful
misery, that of being plundered, starved, and devoured by vermin and by
reptiles.

"Horrida dementes
Rapiet discordia gentes;
Plurima tunc leges
Mutabit, plurima reges
Natio. "

"Then o'er the world shall discord stretch her wings,
Kings change their laws, and kingdoms change their kings. "

Here the author takes a general survey of the state of the world, and
the changes that were to happen, about the time of the discovery of this
monument, in many nations. As it is not likely that he intended to touch
upon the affairs of other countries, any farther than the advantage of
his own made it necessary, we may reasonably conjecture, that he had a
full and distinct view of all the negotiations, treaties, confederacies,
of all the triple and quadruple alliances, and all the leagues offensive
and defensive, in which we were to be engaged, either as principals,
accessaries, or guarantees, whether by policy, or hope, or fear, or our
concern for preserving the balance of power, or our tenderness for the
liberties of Europe. He knew that our negotiators would interest us in
the affairs of the whole earth, and that no state could either rise or
decline in power, either extend or lose its dominions, without affecting
politicks, and influencing our councils.

This passage will bear an easy and natural application to the present
time, in which so many revolutions have happened, so many nations have
changed their masters, and so many disputes and commotions are
embroiling, almost in every part of the world.

That almost every state in Europe and Asia, that is, almost every
country, then known, is comprehended in this prediction, may be easily
conceived, but whether it extends to regions at that time undiscovered,
and portends any alteration of government in Carolina and Georgia, let
more able or more daring expositors determine:

"Conversa
In rabiem tunc contremet ursa
Cynthia. "

"The bear, enrag'd, th' affrighted moon shall dread. "

The terrour created to the moon by the anger of the bear, is a strange
expression, but may, perhaps, relate to the apprehensions raised in the
Turkish empire, of which a crescent, or new moon, is the imperial
standard, by the increasing power of the emperess of Russia, whose
dominions lie under the northern constellation, called the Bear.

"Tunc latis
Florebunt lilia pratis. "

"The lilies o'er the vales triumphant spread. "

The lilies borne by the kings of France are an apt representation of
that country; and their flourishing over wide-extended valleys, seems to
regard the new increase of the French power, wealth, and dominions by
the advancement of their trade, and the accession of Lorrain. This is,
at first view, an obvious, but, perhaps, for that very reason not the
true sense of the inscription. How can we reconcile it with the
following passage:

"Nec fremere audebit
Leo, sed violare timebit,
Omnia consuetus
Populari pascua laetus. "

"Nor shall the lion, wont of old to reign
Despotick o'er the desolated plain,
Henceforth, th' inviolable bloom invade,
Or dare to murmur in the flow'ry glade,"

in which the lion that used, at pleasure, to lay the pastures waste, is
represented, as not daring to touch the lilies, or murmur at their
growth! The lion, it is true, is one of the supporters of the arms of
England, and may, therefore, figure our countrymen, who have, in ancient
times, made France a desert. But can it be said, that the lion dares not
murmur or rage, (for _fremere_ may import both,) when it is evident,
that, for many years, this whole kingdom has murmured, however, it may
be, at present, calm and secure, by its confidence in the wisdom of our
politicians, and the address of our negotiators:

"Ante oculos natos
Calceatos et cruciatos
Jam feret ignavus,
Vetitaque libidine pravus. "

"His tortur'd sons shall die before his face,
While he lies melting in a lewd embrace. "

Here are other things mentioned of the lion, equally unintelligible, if
we suppose them to be spoken of our nation, as that he lies sluggish,
and depraved with unlawful lusts, while his offspring is trampled and
tortured before his eyes. But in what place can the English be said to
be trampled or tortured? Where are they treated with injustice or
contempt? What nation is there, from pole to pole, that does not
reverence the nod of the British king? Is not our commerce
unrestrained? Are not the riches of the world our own? Do not our ships
sail unmolested, and our merchants traffick in perfect security? Is not
the very name of England treated by foreigners in a manner never known
before? Or if some slight injuries have been offered; if some of our
petty traders have been stopped, our possessions threatened; our effects
confiscated; our flag insulted; or our ears cropped, have we lain
sluggish and unactive? Have not our fleets been seen in triumph at
Spithead? Did not Hosier visit the Bastimentos, and is not Haddock now
stationed at Port Mahon?

"En quoque quod mirum,
Quod dicas denique dirum,
Sanguinem equus sugit,
Neque bellua victa remugit! "

"And, yet more strange! his veins a horse shall drain,
Nor shall the passive coward once complain! "

It is farther asserted, in the concluding lines, that the horse shall
suck the lion's blood. This is still more obscure than any of the rest;
and, indeed, the difficulties I have met with, ever since the first
mention of the lion, are so many and great, that I had, in utter despair
of surmounting them, once desisted from my design of publishing any
thing upon this subject; but was prevailed upon by the importunity of
some friends, to whom I can deny nothing, to resume my design; and I
must own, that nothing animated me so much as the hope, they flattered
me with, that my essay might be inserted in the Gazetteer, and, so,
become of service to my country.

That a weaker animal should suck the blood of a stronger, without
resistance, is wholly improbable, and inconsistent with the regard for
self-preservation, so observable in every order and species of beings.
We must, therefore, necessarily endeavour after some figurative sense,
not liable to so insuperable an objection.

Were I to proceed in the same tenour of interpretation, by which I
explained the moon and the lilies, I might observe, that a horse is the
arms of H----. But how, then, does the horse suck the lion's blood!
Money is the blood of the body politick. --But my zeal for the present
happy establishment will not suffer me to pursue a train of thought,
that leads to such shocking conclusions. The idea is detestable, and
such as, it ought to be hoped, can enter into the mind of none but a
virulent republican, or bloody jacobite. There is not one honest man in
the nation unconvinced, how weak an attempt it would be to endeavour to
confute this insinuation; an insinuation which no party will dare to
abet, and of so fatal and destructive a tendency, that it may prove
equally dangerous to the author, whether true or false.

As, therefore, I can form no hypothesis, on which a consistent
interpretation may be built, I must leave these loose and unconnected
hints entirely to the candour of the reader, and confess, that I do not
think my scheme of explication just, since I cannot apply it, throughout
the whole, without involving myself in difficulties, from which the
ablest interpreter would find it no easy matter to get free.

Being, therefore, convinced, upon an attentive and deliberate review of
these observations, and a consultation with my friends, of whose
abilities I have the highest esteem, and whose impartiality, sincerity,
and probity, I have long known, and frequently experienced, that my
conjectures are, in general, very uncertain, often improbable, and,
sometimes, little less than apparently false, I was long in doubt,
whether I ought not entirely to suppress them, and content myself with
publishing in the Gazetteer the inscription, as it stands engraven on
the stone, without translation or commentary, unless that ingenious and
learned society should favour the world with their own remarks.

To this scheme, which I thought extremely well calculated for the
publick good, and, therefore, very eagerly communicated to my
acquaintance and fellow-students, some objections were started, which,
as I had not foreseen, I was unable to answer.

It was observed, first, that the daily dissertations, published by that
fraternity, are written with such profundity of sentiment, and filled
with such uncommon modes of expression, as to be themselves sufficiently
unintelligible to vulgar readers; and that, therefore, the venerable
obscurity of this prediction, would much less excite the curiosity, and
awaken the attention of mankind, than if it were exhibited in any other
paper, and placed in opposition to the clear and easy style of an author
generally understood.

To this argument, formidable as it was, I answered, after a short pause,
that, with all proper deference to the great sagacity and advanced age
of the objector, I could not but conceive, that his position confuted
itself, and that a reader of the Gazetteer, being, by his own
confession, accustomed to encounter difficulties, and search for
meaning, where it was not easily to be found, must be better prepared,
than any other man, for the perusal of these ambiguous expressions; and
that, besides, the explication of this stone, being a task which nothing
could surmount but the most acute penetration, joined with indefatigable
patience, seemed, in reality, reserved for those who have given proofs
of both, in the highest degree, by reading and understanding the
Gazetteer.

This answer satisfied every one but the objector, who, with an obstinacy
not very uncommon, adhered to his own opinion, though he could not
defend it; and, not being able to make any reply, attempted to laugh
away my argument, but found the rest of my friends so little disposed to
jest upon this important question, that he was forced to restrain his
mirth, and content himself with a sullen and contemptuous silence.

Another of my friends, whom I had assembled on this occasion, having
owned the solidity of my answer to the first objection, offered a
second, which, in his opinion, could not be so easily defeated.

"I have observed," says he, "that the essays in the Gazetteer, though
written on very important subjects, by the ablest hands which ambition
can incite, friendship engage, or money procure, have never, though
circulated through the kingdom with the utmost application, had any
remarkable influence upon the people. I know many persons, of no common
capacity, that hold it sufficient to peruse these papers four times a
year; and others, who receive them regularly, and, without looking upon
them, treasure them under ground for the benefit of posterity.
So that
the inscription may, by being inserted there, sink, once more, into
darkness and oblivion, instead of informing the age, and assisting our
present ministry in the regulation of their measures. "

Another observed, that nothing was more unreasonable than my hope, that
any remarks or elucidations would be drawn up by that fraternity, since
their own employments do not allow them any leisure for such attempts.
Every one knows that panegyrick is, in its own nature, no easy task, and
that to defend is much more difficult than to attack; consider, then,
says he, what industry, what assiduity it must require, to praise and
vindicate a ministry like ours.

It was hinted, by another, that an inscription, which had no relation to
any particular set of men amongst us, but was composed many ages before
the parties, which now divide the nation, had a being, could not be so
properly conveyed to the world, by means of a paper dedicated to
political debates.

Another, to whom I had communicated my own observations, in a more
private manner, and who had inserted some of his own arguments, declared
it, as his opinion, that they were, though very controvertible and
unsatisfactory, yet too valuable to be lost; and that though to insert
the inscription in a paper, of which such numbers are daily distributed
at the expense of the publick, would, doubtless, be very agreeable to
the generous design of the author; yet he hoped, that as all the
students, either of politicks or antiquities, would receive both
pleasure and improvement from the dissertation with which it is
accompanied, none of them would regret to pay for so agreeable an
entertainment.

It cannot be wondered, that I have yielded, at last, to such weighty
reasons, and such insinuating compliments, and chosen to gratify, at
once, the inclinations of friends, and the vanity of an author. Yet, I
should think, I had very imperfectly discharged my duty to my country,
did I not warn all, whom either interest or curiosity shall incite to
the perusal of this treatise, not to lay any stress upon my
explications.

How a more complete and indisputable interpretation may be obtained, it
is not easy to say. This will, I suppose, be readily granted, that it is
not to be expected from any single hand, but from the joint inquiries,
and united labours, of a numerous society of able men, instituted by
authority, selected with great discernment and impartiality, and
supported at the charge of the nation.

I am very far from apprehending, that any proposal for the attainment of
so desirable an end, will be rejected by this inquisitive and
enlightened age, and shall, therefore, lay before the publick the
project which I have formed, and matured by long consideration, for the
institution of a society of commentators upon this inscription.

I humbly propose, that thirty of the most distinguished genius be chosen
for this employment, half from the inns of court, and half from the
army, and be incorporated into a society for five years, under the name
of the Society of Commentators.

That great undertakings can only be executed by a great number of hands,
is too evident to require any proof; and, I am afraid, all that read
this scheme will think, that it is chiefly defective in this respect,
and that when they reflect how many commissaries were thought necessary
at Seville, and that even their negotiations entirely miscarried,
probably for want of more associates, they will conclude, that I have
proposed impossibilities, and that the ends of the institution will be
defeated by an injudicious and ill timed frugality.

But if it be considered, how well the persons, I recommend, must have
been qualified, by their education and profession, for the provinces
assigned them, the objection will grow less weighty than it appears. It
is well known to be the constant study of the lawyers to discover, in
acts of parliament, meanings which escaped the committees that drew them
up, and the senates that passed them into laws, and to explain wills,
into a sense wholly contrary to the intention of the testator. How
easily may an adept in these admirable and useful arts, penetrate into
the most hidden import of this prediction? A man, accustomed to satisfy
himself with the obvious and natural meaning of a sentence, does not
easily shake off his habit; but a true-bred lawyer never contents
himself with one sense, when there is another to be found.

Nor will the beneficial consequences of this scheme terminate in the
explication of this monument: they will extend much further; for the
commentators, having sharpened and improved their sagacity by this long
and difficult course of study, will, when they return into publick life,
be of wonderful service to the government, in examining pamphlets,
songs, and journals, and in drawing up informations, indictments, and
instructions for special juries. They will be wonderfully fitted for the
posts of attorney and solicitor general, but will excel, above all, as
licensers for the stage.

The gentlemen of the army will equally adorn the province to which I
have assigned them, of setting the discoveries and sentiments of their
associates in a clear and agreeable light. The lawyers are well known
not to be very happy in expressing their ideas, being, for the most
part, able to make themselves understood by none but their own
fraternity. But the geniuses of the army have sufficient opportunities,
by their free access to the levee and the toilet, their constant
attendance on balls and assemblies, and that abundant leisure which they
enjoy, beyond any other body of men, to acquaint themselves with every
new word, and prevailing mode of expression, and to attain the utmost
nicety, and most polished prettiness of language.

It will be necessary, that, during their attendance upon the society,
they be exempt from any obligation to appear on Hyde park; and that upon
no emergency, however pressing, they be called away from their studies,
unless the nation be in immediate danger, by an insurrection of weavers,
colliers, or smugglers.

There may not, perhaps, be found in the army such a number of men, who
have ever condescended to pass through the labours, and irksome forms of
education in use, among the lower classes of people, or submitted to
learn the mercantile and plebeian arts of writing and reading. I must
own, that though I entirely agree with the notions of the uselessness of
any such trivial accomplishments in the military profession, and of
their inconsistency with more valuable attainments; though I am
convinced, that a man who can read and write becomes, at least, a very
disagreeable companion to his brother soldiers, if he does not
absolutely shun their acquaintance; that he is apt to imbibe, from his
books, odd notions of liberty and independency, and even, sometimes, of
morality and virtue, utterly inconsistent, with the desirable character
of a pretty gentleman; though writing frequently stains the whitest
finger, and reading has a natural tendency to cloud the aspect, and
depress that airy and thoughtless vivacity, which is the distinguishing
characteristick of a modern warriour; yet, on this single occasion, I
cannot but heartily wish, that, by a strict search, there may be
discovered, in the army, fifteen men who can write and read.

I know that the knowledge of the alphabet is so disreputable among these
gentlemen, that those who have, by ill fortune, formerly been taught it,
have partly forgot it by disuse, and partly concealed it from the world,
to avoid the railleries and insults to which their education might make
them liable: I propose, therefore, that all the officers of the army may
be examined upon oath, one by one, and that if fifteen cannot be
selected, who are, at present, so qualified, the deficiency may be
supplied out of those who, having once learned to read, may, perhaps,
with the assistance of a master, in a short time, refresh their
memories.

It may be thought, at the first sight of this proposal, that it might
not be improper to assign, to every commentator, a reader and secretary;
but, it may be easily conceived, that not only the publick might murmur
at such an addition of expense, but that, by the unfaithfulness or
negligence of their servants, the discoveries of the society may be
carried to foreign courts, and made use of to the disadvantage of our
own country.

For the residence of this society, I cannot think any place more proper
than Greenwich hospital, in which they may have thirty apartments fitted
up for them, that they may make their observations in private, and meet,
once a day, in the painted hall to compare them.

If the establishment of this society be thought a matter of too much
importance to be deferred till the new buildings are finished, it will
be necessary to make room for their reception, by the expulsion of such
of the seamen as have no pretensions to the settlement there, but
fractured limbs, loss of eyes, or decayed constitutions, who have lately
been admitted in such numbers, that it is now scarce possible to
accommodate a nobleman's groom, footman, or postilion, in a manner
suitable to the dignity of his profession, and the original design of
the foundation.

The situation of Greenwich will naturally dispose them to reflection and
study: and particular caution ought to be used, lest any interruption be
suffered to dissipate their attention, or distract their meditations:
for this reason, all visits and letters from ladies are strictly to be
prohibited; and if any of the members shall be detected with a lapdog,
pack of cards, box of dice, draught-table, snuffbox, or looking-glass,
he shall, for the first offence, be confined for three months to water
gruel, and, for the second, be expelled the society.

Nothing now remains, but that an estimate be made of the expenses
necessary for carrying on this noble and generous design. The salary to
be allowed each professor cannot be less than 2,000_l_. a year, which
is, indeed, more than the regular stipend of a commissioner of excise;
but, it must be remembered, that the commentators have a much more
difficult and important employment, and can expect their salaries but
for the short space of five years; whereas a commissioner (unless he
imprudently suffers himself to be carried away by a whimsical tenderness
for his country) has an establishment for life.

It will be necessary to allow the society, in general, 30,000_l_.
yearly, for the support of the publick table, and 40,000_l_. for secret
service.

Thus will the ministry have a fair prospect of obtaining the full sense
and import of the prediction, without burdening the publick with more
than 650,000_l_. which may be paid out of the sinking fund; or, if it be
not thought proper to violate that sacred treasure, by converting any
part of it to uses not primarily intended, may be easily raised by a
general poll-tax, or excise upon bread.

Having now completed my scheme, a scheme calculated for the publick
benefit, without regard to any party, I entreat all sects, factions, and
distinctions of men among us, to lay aside, for a time, their
party-feuds and petty animosities; and, by a warm concurrence on this
urgent occasion, teach posterity to sacrifice every private interest to
the advantage of their country.

[In this performance, which was first printed in the year 1739, Dr.
Johnson, "in a feigned inscription, supposed to have been found in
Norfolk, the country of sir Robert Walpole, then the obnoxious prime
minister of this country, inveighs against the Brunswick succession, and
the measures of government consequent upon it. To this supposed
prophecy, he added a commentory, making each expression apply to the
times, with warm anti-Hanoverian zeal. "--Boswell's Life, i. ]




OBSERVATIONS ON THE STATE OF AFFAIRS IN 1756 [23].


The time is now come, in which every Englishman expects to be informed
of the national affairs, and in which he has a right to have that
expectation gratified. For whatever may be urged by ministers, or those
whom vanity or interest make the followers of ministers, concerning the
necessity of confidence in our governours, and the presumption of
prying, with profane eyes, into the recesses of policy, it is evident,
that this reverence can be claimed only by counsels yet unexecuted, and
projects suspended in deliberation. But when a design has ended in
miscarriage or success, when every eye, and every ear, is witness to
general discontent, or general satisfaction, it is then a proper time to
disentangle confusion, and illustrate obscurity; to show by what causes
every event was produced, and in what effects it is likely to terminate;
to lay down, with distinct particularity, what rumour always huddles in
general exclamations, or perplexes by undigested narratives; to show
whence happiness or calamity is derived, and whence it may be expected;
and honestly to lay before the people, what inquiry can gather of the
past, and conjecture can estimate of the future.

The general subject of the present war is sufficiently known. It is
allowed, on both sides, that hostilities began in America, and that the
French and English quarrelled about the boundaries of their settlements,
about grounds and rivers, to which, I am afraid, neither can show any
other right than that of power, and which neither can occupy but by
usurpation, and the dispossession of the natural lords and original
inhabitants. Such is the contest, that no honest man can heartily wish
success to either party.

It may, indeed, be alleged, that the Indians have granted large tracts
of land both to one and to the other; but these grants can add little to
the validity of our titles, till it be experienced, how they were
obtained; for, if they were extorted by violence, or induced by fraud;
by threats, which the miseries of other nations had shown not to be
vain; or by promises, of which no performance was ever intended, what
are they but new modes of usurpation, but new instances of crueltv and
treachery?

And, indeed, what but false hope, or resistless terrour, can prevail
upon a weaker nation to invite a stronger into their country, to give
their lands to strangers, whom no affinity of manners, or similitude of
opinion, can be said to recommend, to permit them to build towns, from
which the natives are excluded, to raise fortresses, by which they are
intimidated, to settle themselves with such strength, that they cannot
afterwards be expelled, but are, for ever, to remain the masters of the
original inhabitants, the dictators of their conduct, and the arbiters
of their fate?

When we see men acting thus against the precepts of reason, and the
instincts of nature, we cannot hesitate to determine, that, by some
means or other, they were debarred from choice; that they were lured or
frighted into compliance; that they either granted only what they found
impossible to keep, or expected advantages upon the faith of their new
inmates, which there was no purpose to confer upon them. It cannot be
said, that the Indians originally invited us to their coasts; we went,
uncalled and unexpected, to nations who had no imagination that the
earth contained any inhabitants, so distant and so different from
themselves. We astonished them with our ships, with our arms, and with
our general superiority. They yielded to us, as to beings of another and
higher race, sent among them from some unknown regions, with power which
naked Indians could not resist and, which they were, therefore, by every
act of humility, to propitiate, that they, who could so easily destroy,
might be induced to spare.

To this influence, and to this only, are to be attributed all the
cessions and submissions of the Indian princes, if, indeed, any such
cessions were ever made, of which we have no witness, but those who
claim from them; and there is no great malignity in suspecting, that
those who have robbed have also lied.

Some colonies, indeed, have been established more peaceably than others.
The utmost extremity of wrong has not always been practised; but those
that have settled in the new world, on the fairest terms, have no other
merit than that of a scrivener, who ruins in silence, over a plunderer
that seizes by force; all have taken what had other owners, and all have
had recourse to arms, rather than quit the prey on which they had
fastened.

The American dispute, between the French and us, is, therefore, only the
quarrel of two robbers for the spoils of a passenger; but, as robbers
have terms of confederacy, which they are obliged to observe, as members
of the gang, so the English and French may have relative rights, and do
injustice to each other, while both are injuring the Indians. And such,
indeed, is the present contest: they have parted the northern continent
of America between them, and are now disputing about their boundaries,
and each is endeavouring the destruction of the other, by the help of
the Indians, whose interest it is that both should be destroyed.

Both nations clamour, with great vehemence, about infractions of limits,
violation of treaties, open usurpation, insidious artifices, and breach
of faith. The English rail at the perfidious French, and the French at
the encroaching English: they quote treaties on each side, charge each
other with aspiring to universal monarchy, and complain, on either part,
of the insecurity of possession near such turbulent neighbours.

Through this mist of controversy, it can raise no wonder, that the truth
is not easily discovered. When a quarrel has been long carried on
between individuals, it is often very hard to tell by whom it was begun.
Every fact is darkened by distance, by interest, and by multitudes.
Information is not easily procured from far; those whom the truth will
not favour, will not step, voluntarily, forth to tell it; and where
there are many agents, it is easy for every single action to be
concealed.

All these causes concur to the obscurity of the question: By whom were
hostilities in America commenced? Perhaps there never can be remembered
a time, in which hostilities had ceased. Two powerful colonies, inflamed
with immemorial rivalry, and placed out of the superintendence of the
mother nations, were not likely to be long at rest. Some opposition was
always going forward, some mischief was every day done or meditated, and
the borderers were always better pleased with what they could snatch
from their neighbours, than what they had of their own.

In this disposition to reciprocal invasion, a cause of dispute never
could be wanting. The forests and deserts of America are without
landmarks, and, therefore, cannot be particularly specified in
stipulations; the appellations of those wide-extended regions have, in
every mouth, a different meaning, and are understood, on either side, as
inclination happens to contract or extend them. Who has yet pretended to
define, how much of America is included in Brazil, Mexico, or Peru? It
is almost as easy to divide the Atlantick ocean by a line, as clearly to
ascertain the limits of those uncultivated, uninhabitable, unmeasured
regions.

It is, likewise, to be considered, that contracts concerning boundaries
are often left vague and indefinite, without necessity, by the desire of
each party, to interpret the ambiguity to its own advantage, when a fit
opportunity shall be found. In forming stipulations, the commissaries
are often ignorant, and often negligent; they are, sometimes, weary with
debate, and contract a tedious discussion into general terms, or refer
it to a former treaty, which was never understood. The weaker part is
always afraid of requiring explanations, and the stronger always has an
interest in leaving the question undecided: thus it will happen, without
great caution on either side, that, after long treaties, solemnly
ratified, the rights that had been disputed are still equally open to
controversy.

In America, it may easily be supposed, that there are tracts of land not
yet claimed by either party, and, therefore, mentioned in no treaties;
which yet one, or the other, may be afterwards inclined to occupy; but
to these vacant and unsettled countries each nation may pretend, as each
conceives itself entitled to all that is not expressly granted to the
other.

Here, then, is a perpetual ground of contest; every enlargement of the
possessions of either will be considered as something taken from the
other, and each will endeavour to regain what had never been claimed,
but that the other occupied it.

Thus obscure in its original is the American contest. It is difficult to
find the first invader, or to tell where invasion properly begins; but,
I suppose, it is not to be doubted, that after the last war, when the
French had made peace with such apparent superiority, they naturally
began to treat us with less respect in distant parts of the world, and
to consider us, as a people from whom they had nothing to fear, and who
could no longer presume to contravene their designs, or to check their
progress.

The power of doing wrong with impunity seldom waits long for the will;
and, it is reasonable to believe, that, in America, the French would
avow their purpose of aggrandizing themselves with, at least, as little
reserve as in Europe. We may, therefore, readily believe, that they were
unquiet neighbours, and had no great regard to right, which they
believed us no longer able to enforce.

That in forming a line of forts behind our colonies, if in no other part
of their attempt, they had acted against the general intention, if not
against the literal terms of treaties, can scarcely be denied; for it
never can be supposed, that we intended to be inclosed between the sea
and the French garrisons, or preclude ourselves from extending our
plantations backwards, to any length that our convenience should
require.

With dominion is conferred every thing that can secure dominion. He that
has the coast, has, likewise, the sea, to a certain distance; he that
possesses a fortress, has the right of prohibiting another fortress to
be built within the command of its cannon. When, therefore, we planted
the coast of North America, we supposed the possession of the inland
region granted to an indefinite extent; and every nation that settled in
that part of the world, seems, by the permission of every other nation,
to have made the same supposition in its own favour.

Here, then, perhaps, it will be safest to fix the justice of our cause;
here we are apparently and indisputably injured, and this injury may,
according to the practice of nations, be justly resented. Whether we
have not, in return, made some encroachments upon them, must be left
doubtful, till our practices on the Ohio shall be stated and vindicated.
There are no two nations, confining on each other, between whom a war
may not always be kindled with plausible pretences on either part, as
there is always passing between them a reciprocation of injuries, and
fluctuation of encroachments.

From the conclusion of the last peace, perpetual complaints of the
supplantations and invasions of the French have been sent to Europe,
from our colonies, and transmitted to our ministers at Paris, where good
words were, sometimes, given us, and the practices of the American
commanders were, sometimes, disowned; but no redress was ever obtained,
nor is it probable, that any prohibition was sent to America. We were
still amused with such doubtful promises, as those who are afraid of war
are ready to interpret in their own favour, and the French pushed
forward their line of fortresses, and seemed to resolve, that before our
complaints were finally dismissed, all remedy should be hopeless.

We, likewise, endeavoured, at the same time, to form a barrier against
the Canadians, by sending a colony to New Scotland, a cold uncomfortable
tract of ground; of which we had long the nominal possession, before we
really began to occupy it. To this, those were invited whom the
cessation of war deprived of employment, and made burdensome to their
country; and settlers were allured thither by many fallacious
descriptions of fertile valleys and clear skies. What effects these
pictures of American happiness had upon my countrymen, I was never
informed, but, I suppose, very few sought provision in those frozen
regions, whom guilt, or poverty, did not drive from their native
country. About the boundaries of this new colony there were some
disputes; but, as there was nothing yet worth a contest, the power of
the French was not much exerted on that side; some disturbance was,
however, given, and some skirmishes ensued. But, perhaps, being peopled
chiefly with soldiers, who would rather live by plunder than by
agriculture, and who consider war as their best trade, New Scotland
would be more obstinately defended than some settlements of far greater
value; and the French are too well informed of their own interest, to
provoke hostility for no advantage, or to select that country for
invasion, where they must hazard much and can win little. They,
therefore, pressed on southward, behind our ancient and wealthy
settlements, and built fort after fort, at such distances that they
might conveniently relieve one another, invade our colonies with sudden
incursions, and retire to places of safety, before our people could
unite to oppose them.

This design of the French has been long formed, and long known, both in
America and Europe, and might, at first, have been easily repressed, had
force been used instead of expostulation. When the English attempted a
settlement upon the island of St. Lucia, the French, whether justly or
not, considering it as neutral, and forbidden to be occupied by either
nation, immediately landed upon it, and destroyed the houses, wasted the
plantations, and drove, or carried away, the inhabitants. This was done
in the time of peace, when mutual professions of friendship were daily
exchanged by the two courts, and was not considered as any violation of
treaties, nor was any more than a very soft remonstrance made on our
part.

The French, therefore, taught us how to act; but an Hanoverian quarrel
with the house of Austria, for some time, induced us to court, at any
expense, the alliance of a nation, whose very situation makes them our
enemies. We suffered them to destroy our settlements, and to advance
their own, which we had an equal right to attack. The time, however,
came, at last, when we ventured to quarrel with Spain, and then France
no longer suffered the appearance of peace to subsist between us, but
armed in defence of her ally.

The events of the war are well known: we pleased ourselves with a
victory at Dettingen, where we left our wounded men to the care of our
enemies, but our army was broken at Fontenoy and Val; and though, after
the disgrace which we suffered in the Mediterranean, we had some naval
success, and an accidental dearth made peace necessary for the French,
yet they prescribed the conditions, obliged us to give hostages, and
acted as conquerors, though as conquerors of moderation.

In this war the Americans distinguished themselves in a manner unknown
and unexpected. The New English raised an army, and, under the command
of Pepperel, took cape Breton, with the assistance of the fleet. This is
the most important fortress in America. We pleased ourselves so much
with the acquisition, that we could not think of restoring it; and,
among the arguments used to inflame the people against Charles Stuart,
it was very clamorously urged, that if he gained the kingdom, he would
give cape Breton back to the French.

The French, however, had a more easy expedient to regain cape Breton,
than by exalting Charles Stuart to the English throne. They took, in
their turn, fort St. George, and had our East India company wholly in
their power, whom they restored, at the peace, to their former
possessions, that they may continue to export our silver.

Cape Breton, therefore, was restored, and the French were reestablished
in America, with equal power and greater spirit, having lost nothing by
the war, which they had before gained.

To the general reputation of their arms, and that habitual superiority
which they derive from it, they owe their power in America, rather than
to any real strength or circumstances of advantage. Their numbers are
yet not great; their trade, though daily improved, is not very
extensive; their country is barren; their fortresses, though numerous,
are weak, and rather shelters from wild beasts, or savage nations, than
places built for defence against bombs or cannons. Cape Breton has been
found not to be impregnable; nor, if we consider the state of the places
possessed by the two nations in America, is there any reason upon which
the French should have presumed to molest us, but that they thought our
spirit so broken, that we durst not resist them; and in this opinion our
long forbearance easily confirmed them.

We forgot, or rather avoided to think, that what we delayed to do, must
be done at last, and done with more difficulty, as it was delayed
longer; that while we were complaining, and they were eluding, or
answering our complaints, fort was rising upon fort, and one invasion
made a precedent for another.

This confidence of the French is exalted by some real advantages. If
they possess, in those countries, less than we, they have more to gain,
and less to hazard; if they are less numerous, they are better united.

The French compose one body with one head. They have all the same
interest, and agree to pursue it by the same means. They are subject to
a governour, commissioned by an absolute monarch, and participating the
authority of his master. Designs are, therefore, formed without debate,
and executed without impediment. They have yet more martial than
mercantile ambition, and seldom suffer their military schemes to be
entangled with collateral projects of gain: they have no wish but for
conquest, of which they justly consider riches as the consequence.

Some advantages they will always have, as invaders. They make war at the
hazard of their enemies: the contest being carried on in our
territories, we must lose more by a victory, than they will suffer by a
defeat. They will subsist, while they stay, upon our plantations; and,
perhaps, destroy them, when they can stay no longer. If we pursue them,
and carry the war into their dominions, our difficulties will increase
every step as we advance, for we shall leave plenty behind us, and find
nothing in Canada, but lakes and forests, barren and trackless; our
enemies will shut themselves up in their forts, against which it is
difficult to bring cannon through so rough a country, and which, if they
are provided with good magazines, will soon starve those who besiege
them.

All these are the natural effects of their government and situation;
they are accidentally more formidable, as they are less happy. But the
favour of the Indians, which they enjoy, with very few exceptions, among
all the nations of the northern continent, we ought to consider with
other thoughts; this favour we might have enjoyed, if we had been
careful to deserve it. The French, by having these savage nations on
their side, are always supplied with spies and guides, and with
auxiliaries, like the Tartars to the Turks, or the Hussars to the
Germans, of no great use against troops ranged in order of battle, but
very well qualified to maintain a war among woods and rivulets, where
much mischief may be done by unexpected onsets, and safety be obtained
by quick retreats. They can waste a colony by sudden inroads, surprise
the straggling planters, frighten the inhabitants into towns, hinder the
cultivation of lands, and starve those whom they are not able to conquer
[24].




AN INTRODUCTION TO THE POLITICAL STATE OF GREAT BRITAIN.

Written in the year 1756 [25].


The present system of English politicks may properly be said to have
taken rise in the reign of queen Elizabeth. At this time the protestant
religion was established, which naturally allied us to the reformed
state, and made all the popish powers our enemies.

We began in the same reign to extend our trade, by which we made it
necessary to ourselves to watch the commercial progress of our
neighbours; and if not to incommode and obstruct their traffick, to
hinder them from impairing ours.

We then, likewise, settled colonies in America, which was become the
great scene of European ambition; for, seeing with what treasures the
Spaniards were annually enriched from Mexico and Peru, every nation
imagined, that an American conquest, or plantation, would certainly fill
the mother country with gold and silver. This produced a large extent of
very distant dominions, of which we, at this time, neither knew nor
foresaw the advantage or incumbrance; we seem to have snatched them into
our hands, upon no very just principles of policy, only because every
state, according to a prejudice of long continuance, concludes itself
more powerful, as its territories become larger.

The discoveries of new regions, which were then every day made, the
profit of remote traffick, and the necessity of long voyages, produced,
in a few years, a great multiplication of shipping. The sea was
considered as the wealthy element; and, by degrees, a new kind of
sovereignty arose, called naval dominion.

As the chief trade of the world, so the chief maritime power was at
first in the hands of the Portuguese and Spaniards, who, by a compact,
to which the consent of other princes was not asked, had divided the
newly discovered countries between them; but the crown of Portugal
having fallen to the king of Spain, or being seized by him, he was
master of the ships of the two nations, with which he kept all the
coasts of Europe in alarm, till the armada, which he had raised, at a
vast expense, for the conquest of England, was destroyed, which put a
stop, and almost an end, to the naval power of the Spaniards.

At this time, the Dutch, who were oppressed by the Spaniards, and feared
yet greater evils than they felt, resolved no longer to endure the
insolence of their masters: they, therefore, revolted; and, after a
struggle, in which they were assisted by the money and forces of
Elizabeth, erected an independent and powerful commonwealth.

When the inhabitants of the Low Countries had formed their system of
government, and some remission of the war gave them leisure to form
schemes of future prosperity, they easily perceived, that, as their
territories were narrow, and their numbers small, they could preserve
themselves only by that power which is the consequence of wealth; and
that, by a people whose country produced only the necessaries of life,
wealth was not to be acquired, but from foreign dominions, and by the
transportation of the products of one country into another.

From this necessity, thus justly estimated, arose a plan of commerce,
which was, for many years, prosecuted with industry and success, perhaps
never seen in the world before, and by which the poor tenants of
mud-walled villages, and impassable bogs, erected themselves into high
and mighty states, who put the greatest monarchs at defiance, whose
alliance was courted by the proudest, and whose power was dreaded by the
fiercest nation. By the establishment of this state, there arose, to
England, a new ally, and a new rival.

At this time, which seems to be the period destined for the change of
the face of Europe, France began first to rise into power, and, from
defending her own provinces with difficulty and fluctuating success, to
threaten her neighbours with encroachments and devastations. Henry the
fourth having, after a long struggle, obtained the crown, found it easy
to govern nobles, exhausted and wearied with a long civil war, and
having composed the disputes between the protestants and papists, so as
to obtain, at least, a truce for both parties, was at leisure to
accumulate treasure, and raise forces, which he purposed to have
employed in a design of settling for ever the balance of Europe. Of this
great scheme he lived not to see the vanity, or to feel the
disappointment; for he was murdered in the midst of his mighty
preparations.

The French, however, were, in this reign, taught to know their own
power; and the great designs of a king, whose wisdom they had so long
experienced, even though they were not brought to actual experiment,
disposed them to consider themselves as masters of the destiny of their
neighbours; and, from that time, he that shall nicely examine their
schemes and conduct, will, I believe, find that they began to take an
air of superiority, to which they had never pretended before; and that
they have been always employed, more or less openly, upon schemes of
dominion, though with frequent interruptions from domestick troubles,
and with those intermissions which human counsels must always suffer, as
men intrusted with great affairs are dissipated in youth, and languid in
age; are embarrassed by competitors, or, without any external reason,
change their minds.

France was now no longer in dread of insults, and invasions from
England. She was not only able to maintain her own territories, but
prepared, on all occasions, to invade others; and we had now a
neighbour, whose interest it was to be an enemy, and who has disturbed
us, from that time to this, with open hostility, or secret machinations.

Such was the state of England, and its neighbours, when Elizabeth left
the crown to James of Scotland. It has not, I think, been frequently
observed, by historians, at how critical a time the union of the two
kingdoms happened. Had England and Scotland continued separate kingdoms,
when France was established in the full possession of her natural power,
the Scots, in continuance of the league, which it would now have been
more than ever their interest to observe, would, upon every instigation
of the French court, have raised an army with French money, and harassed
us with an invasion, in which they would have thought themselves
successful, whatever numbers they might have left behind them. To a
people warlike and indigent, an incursion into a rich country is never
hurtful. The pay of France, and the plunder of the northern countries,
would always have tempted them to hazard their lives, and we should have
been under a necessity of keeping a line of garrisons along our border.

This trouble, however, we escaped, by the accession of king James; but
it is uncertain, whether his natural disposition did not injure us more
than this accidental condition happened to benefit us. He was a man of
great theoretical knowledge, but of no practical wisdom; he was very
well able to discern the true interest of himself, his kingdom, and his
posterity, but sacrificed it, upon all occasions, to his present
pleasure or his present ease; so conscious of his own knowledge and
abilities, that he would not suffer a minister to govern, and so lax of
attention, and timorous of opposition, that he was not able to govern
for himself. With this character, James quietly saw the Dutch invade our
commerce; the French grew every day stronger and stronger; and the
protestant interest, of which he boasted himself the head, was oppressed
on every side, while he writ, and hunted, and despatched ambassadours,
who, when their master's weakness was once known, were treated, in
foreign courts, with very little ceremony. James, however, took care to
be flattered at home, and was neither angry nor ashamed at the
appearance that he made in other countries.

Thus England grew weaker, or, what is, in political estimation, the same
thing, saw her neighbours grow stronger, without receiving
proportionable additions to her own power. Not that the mischief was so
great as it is generally conceived or represented; for, I believe, it
may be made to appear, that the wealth of the nation was, in this reign,
very much increased, though, that of the crown was lessened. Our
reputation for war was impaired; but commerce seems to have been carried
on with great industry and vigour, and nothing was wanting, but that we
should have defended ourselves from the encroachments of our neighbours.

The inclination to plant colonies in America still continued, and this
being the only project in which men of adventure and enterprise could
exert their qualities, in a pacifick reign, multitudes, who were
discontented with their condition in their native country, and such
multitudes there will always be, sought relief, or, at least, a change,
in the western regions, where they settled, in the northern part of the
continent, at a distance from the Spaniards, at that time almost the
only nation that had any power or will to obstruct us.

Such was the condition of this country, when the unhappy Charles
inherited the crown. He had seen the errours of his father, without
being able to prevent them, and, when he began his reign, endeavoured to
raise the nation to its former dignity. The French papists had begun a
new war upon the protestants: Charles sent a fleet to invade Rhée and
relieve Rochelle, but his attempts were defeated, and the protestants
were subdued. The Dutch, grown wealthy and strong, claimed the right of
fishing in the British seas: this claim the king, who saw the increasing
power of the states of Holland, resolved to contest. But, for this end,
it was necessary to build a fleet, and a fleet could not be built
without expense: he was advised to levy ship-money, which gave occasion
to the civil war, of which the events and conclusion are too well known.

While the inhabitants of this island were embroiled among themselves,
the power of France and Holland was every day increasing. The Dutch had
overcome the difficulties of their infant commonwealth; and, as they
still retained their vigour and industry, from rich grew continually
richer, and from powerful more powerful. They extended their traffick,
and had not yet admitted luxury; so that they had the means and the will
to accumulate wealth, without any incitement to spend it. The French,
who wanted nothing to make them powerful, but a prudent regulation of
their revenues, and a proper use of their natural advantages, by the
successive care of skilful ministers, became, every day, stronger, and
more conscious of their strength.

About this time it was, that the French first began to turn their
thoughts to traffick and navigation, and to desire, like other nations,
an American territory. All the fruitful and valuable parts of the
western world were, already, either occupied, or claimed; and nothing
remained for France, but the leavings of other navigators, for she was
not yet haughty enough to seize what the neighbouring powers had already
appropriated.

The French, therefore, contented themselves with sending a colony to
Canada, a cold, uncomfortable, uninviting region, from which nothing but
furs and fish were to be had, and where the new inhabitants could only
pass a laborious and necessitous life, in perpetual regret of the
deliciousness and plenty of their native country.

Notwithstanding the opinion which our countrymen have been taught to
entertain of the comprehension and foresight of French politicians, I am
not able to persuade myself, that when this colony was first planted, it
was thought of much value, even by those that encouraged it; there was,
probably, nothing more intended, than to provide a drain, into which the
waste of an exuberant nation might be thrown, a place where those who
could do no good might live without the power of doing mischief. Some
new advantage they, undoubtedly, saw, or imagined themselves to see, and
what more was necessary to the establishment of the colony, was supplied
by natural inclination to experiments, and that impatience of doing
nothing, to which mankind, perhaps, owe much of what is imagined to be
effected by more splendid motives.

In this region of desolate sterility they settled themselves, upon
whatever principle; and, as they have, from that time, had the happiness
of a government, by which no interest has been neglected, nor any part
of their subjects overlooked, they have, by continual encouragement and
assistance from France, been perpetually enlarging their bounds, and
increasing their numbers.

These were, at first, like other nations who invaded America, inclined
to consider the neighbourhood of the natives, as troublesome and
dangerous, and are charged with having destroyed great numbers; but they
are now grown wiser, if not honester, and, instead of endeavouring to
frighten the Indians away, they invite them to inter-marriage and
cohabitation, and allure them, by all practicable methods, to become the
subjects of the king of France.

If the Spaniards, when they first took possession of the newly
discovered world, instead of destroying the inhabitants by thousands,
had either had the urbanity or the policy to have conciliated them by
kind treatment, and to have united them, gradually, to their own people,
such an accession might have been made to the power of the king of
Spain, as would have made him far the greatest monarch that ever yet
ruled in the globe; but the opportunity was lost by foolishness and
cruelty, and now can never be recovered.

When the parliament had finally prevailed over our king, and the army
over the parliament, the interests of the two commonwealths of England
and Holland soon appeared to be opposite, and a new government declared
war against the Dutch. In this contest was exerted the utmost power of
the two nations, and the Dutch were finally defeated, yet not with such
evidence of superiority, as left us much reason to boast our victory:
they were obliged, however, to solicit peace, which was granted them on
easy conditions; and Cromwell, who was now possessed of the supreme
power, was left at leisure to pursue other designs.

The European powers had not yet ceased to look with envy on the Spanish
acquisitions in America, and, therefore, Cromwell thought, that if he
gained any part of these celebrated regions, he should exalt his own
reputation, and enrich the country. He, therefore, quarrelled with the
Spaniards upon some such subject of contention, as he that is resolved
upon hostility may always find; and sent Penn and Venables into the
western seas. They first landed in Hispaniola, whence they were driven
off, with no great reputation to themselves; and that they might not
return without having done something, they afterwards invaded Jamaica,
where they found less resistance, and obtained that island, which was
afterwards consigned to us, being probably of little value to the
Spaniards, and continues, to this day, a place of great wealth and
dreadful wickedness, a den of tyrants and a dungeon of slaves.

Cromwell, who, perhaps, had not leisure to study foreign politicks, was
very fatally mistaken with regard to Spain and France. Spain had been
the last power in Europe which had openly pretended to give law to other
nations, and the memory of this terrour remained, when the real cause
was at an end. We had more lately been frighted by Spain than by France;
and though very few were then alive of the generation that had their
sleep broken by the armada, yet the name of the Spaniards was still
terrible and a war against them was pleasing to the people.

Our own troubles had left us very little desire to look out upon the
continent; an inveterate prejudice hindered us from perceiving, that,
for more than half a century, the power of France had been increasing,
and that of Spain had been growing less; nor does it seem to have been
remembered, which yet required no great depth of policy to discern, that
of two monarchs, neither of which could be long our friend, it was our
interest to have the weaker near us; or, that if a war should happen,
Spain, however wealthy or strong in herself, was, by the dispersion of
her territories, more obnoxious to the attacks of a naval power, and,
consequently, had more to fear from us, and had it less in her power to
hurt us.

All these considerations were overlooked by the wisdom of that age; and
Cromwell assisted the French to drive the Spaniards out of Flanders, at
a time when it was our interest to have supported the Spaniards against
France, as formerly the Hollanders against Spain, by which we might, at
least, have retarded the growth of the French power, though, I think, it
must have finally prevailed.

During this time our colonies, which were less disturbed by our
commotions than the mother-country, naturally increased; it is probable
that many, who were unhappy at home, took shelter in those remote
regions, where, for the sake of inviting greater numbers, every one was
allowed to think and live his own way. The French settlement, in the
mean time, went slowly forward, too inconsiderable to raise any
jealousy, and too weak to attempt any encroachments.

When Cromwell died, the confusions that followed produced the
restoration of monarchy, and some time was employed in repairing the
ruins of our constitution, and restoring the nation to a state of peace.
In every change, there will be many that suffer real or imaginary
grievances, and, therefore, many will be dissatisfied. This was,
perhaps, the reason why several colonies had their beginning in the
reign of Charles the second. The quakers willingly sought refuge in
Pennsylvania; and it is not unlikely that Carolina owed its inhabitants
to the remains of that restless disposition, which had given so much
disturbance to our country, and had now no opportunity of acting at
home.

The Dutch, still continuing to increase in wealth and power, either
kindled the resentment of their neighbours by their insolence, or raised
their envy by their prosperity. Charles made war upon them without much
advantage; but they were obliged, at last, to confess him the sovereign
of the narrow seas.