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.
and had not yet admitted luxury; so that they had the means and the will
to accumulate wealth, without any incitement to spend it.
Samuel Johnson
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. They were reduced almost to extremities by an
invasion from France; but soon recovered from their consternation, and,
by the fluctuation of war, regained their cities and provinces with the
same speed as they had lost them.
During the time of Charles the second, the power of France was every day
increasing; and Charles, who never disturbed himself with remote
consequences, saw the progress of her arms and the extension of her
dominions, with very little uneasiness. He was, indeed, sometimes
driven, by the prevailing faction, into confederacies against her; but
as he had, probably, a secret partiality in her favour, he never
persevered long in acting against her, nor ever acted with much vigour;
so that, by his feeble resistance, he rather raised her confidence than
hindered her designs.
About this time the French first began to perceive the advantage of
commerce, and the importance of a naval force; and such encouragement
was given to manufactures, and so eagerly was every project received, by
which trade could be advanced, that, in a few years, the sea was filled
with their ships, and all the parts of the world crowded with their
merchants. There is, perhaps, no instance in human story, of such a
change produced in so short a time, in the schemes and manners of a
people, of so many new sources of wealth opened, and such numbers of
artificers and merchants made to start out of the ground, as was seen in
the ministry of Colbert.
Now it was that the power of France became formidable to England. Her
dominions were large before, and her armies numerous; but her operations
were necessarily confined to the continent. She had neither ships for
the transportation of her troops, nor money for their support in distant
expeditions. Colbert saw both these wants, and saw that commerce only
would supply them. The fertility of their country furnishes the French
with commodities; the poverty of the common people keeps the price of
labour low. By the obvious practice of selling much and buying little,
it was apparent, that they would soon draw the wealth of other countries
into their own; and, by carrying out their merchandise in their own
vessels, a numerous body of sailors would quickly be raised.
This was projected, and this was performed. The king of France was soon
enabled to bribe those whom he could not conquer, and to terrify, with
his fleets, those whom his armies could not have approached. The
influence of France was suddenly diffused all over the globe; her arms
were dreaded, and her pensions received in remote regions, and those
were almost ready to acknowledge her sovereignty, who, a few years
before, had scarcely heard her name. She thundered on the coasts of
Africa, and received ambassadours from Siam.
So much may be done by one wise man endeavouring, with honesty, the
advantage of the publick. But that we may not rashly condemn all
ministers, as wanting wisdom or integrity, whose counsels have produced
no such apparent benefits to their country, it must be considered, that
Colbert had means of acting, which our government does not allow. He
could enforce all his orders by the power of an absolute monarch; he
could compel individuals to sacrifice their private profit to the
general good; he could make one understanding preside over many hands,
and remove difficulties by quick and violent expedients. Where no man
thinks himself under any obligation to submit to another, and, instead
of cooperating in one great scheme, every one hastens through by-paths
to private profit, no great change can suddenly be made; nor is
superiour knowledge of much effect, where every man resolves to use his
own eyes and his own judgment, and every one applauds his own dexterity
and diligence, in proportion as he becomes rich sooner than his
neighbour.
Colonies are always the effects and causes of navigation. They who visit
many countries find some, in which pleasure, profit, or safety invite
them to settle; and these settlements, when they are once made, must
keep a perpetual correspondence with the original country to which they
are subject, and on which they depend for protection in danger, and
supplies in necessity. So that a country, once discovered and planted,
must always find employment for shipping, more certainly than any
foreign commerce, which, depending on casualties, may be sometimes more,
and sometimes less, and which other nations may contract or suppress. A
trade to colonies can never be much impaired, being, in reality, only an
intercourse between distant provinces of the same empire, from which
intruders are easily excluded; likewise the interest and affection of
the correspondent parties, however distant, is the same.
On this reason all nations, whose power has been exerted on the ocean,
have fixed colonies in remote parts of the world; and while those
colonies subsisted, navigation, if it did not increase, was always
preserved from total decay. With this policy the French were well
acquainted, and, therefore, improved and augmented the settlements in
America and other regions, in proportion as they advanced their schemes
of naval greatness.
The exact time, in which they made their acquisitions in America, or
other quarters of the globe, it is not necessary to collect. It is
sufficient to observe, that their trade and their colonies increased
together; and, if their naval armaments were carried on, as they really
were, in greater proportion to their commerce, than can be practised in
other countries, it must be attributed to the martial disposition at
that time prevailing in the nation, to the frequent wars which Lewis the
fourteenth made upon his neighbours, and to the extensive commerce of
the English and Dutch, which afforded so much plunder to privateers,
that war was more lucrative than traffick.
Thus the naval power of France continued to increase during the reign of
Charles the second, who, between his fondness of ease and pleasure, the
struggles of faction, which he could not suppress, and his inclination
to the friendship of absolute monarchy, had not much power or desire to
repress it. And of James the second it could not be expected, that he
should act against his neighbours with great vigour, having the whole
body of his subjects to oppose. He was not ignorant of the real interest
of his country; he desired its power and its happiness, and thought
rightly, that there is no happiness without religion; but he thought
very erroneously and absurdly, that there is no religion without popery.
When the necessity of self-preservation had impelled the subjects of
James to drive him from the throne, there came a time in which the
passions, as well as interest of the government, acted against the
French, and in which it may, perhaps, be reasonably doubted, whether the
desire of humbling France was not stronger, than that of exalting
England: of this, however, it is not necessary to inquire, since, though
the intention may be different, the event will be the same. All mouths
were now open to declare what every eye had observed before, that the
arms of France were become dangerous to Europe; and that, if her
encroachments were suffered a little longer, resistance would be too
late.
It was now determined to reassert the empire of the sea; but it was more
easily determined than performed: the French made a vigorous defence
against the united power of England and Holland, and were sometimes
masters of the ocean, though the two maritime powers were united against
them. At length, however, they were defeated at La Hogue; a great part
of their fleet was destroyed, and they were reduced to carry on the war
only with their privateers, from whom there was suffered much petty
mischief, though there was no danger of conquest or invasion. They
distressed our merchants, and obliged us to the continual expense of
convoys and fleets of observation; and, by skulking in little coves and
shallow waters, escaped our pursuit.
In this reign began our confederacy with the Dutch, which mutual
interest has now improved into a friendship, conceived by some to be
inseparable; and, from that time, the states began to be termed, in the
style of politicians, our faithful friends, the allies which nature has
given us, our protestant confederates, and by many other names of
national endearment. We have, it is true, the same interest, as opposed
to France, and some resemblance of religion, as opposed to popery; but
we have such a rivalry, in respect of commerce, as will always keep us
from very close adherence to each other. No mercantile man, or
mercantile nation, has any friendship but for money, and alliance
between them will last no longer, than their common safety, or common
profit is endangered; no longer than they have an enemy, who threatens
to take from each more than either can steal from the other.
We were both sufficiently interested in repressing the ambition, and
obstructing the commerce of France; and, therefore, we concurred with as
much fidelity, and as regular cooperation, as is commonly found. The
Dutch were in immediate danger, the armies of their enemies hovered over
their country, and, therefore, they were obliged to dismiss, for a time,
their love of money, and their narrow projects of private profit, and to
do what a trader does not willingly, at any time, believe necessary, to
sacrifice a part for the preservation of the whole.
A peace was at length made, and the French, with their usual vigour and
industry, rebuilt their fleets, restored their commerce, and became, in
a very few years, able to contest again the dominion of the sea. Their
ships were well built, and always very numerously manned; their
commanders, having no hopes but from their bravery, or their fortune,
were resolute, and, being very carefully educated for the sea, were
eminently skilful.
All this was soon perceived, when queen Anne, the then darling of
England, declared war against France. Our success by sea, though
sufficient to keep us from dejection, was not such as dejected our
enemies. It is, indeed, to be confessed, that we did not exert our whole
naval strength; Marlborough was the governour of our counsels, and the
great view of Marlborough was a war by land, which he knew well how to
conduct, both to the honour of his country and his own profit. The fleet
was, therefore, starved, that the army might be supplied, and naval
advantages were neglected, for the sake of taking a town in Flanders, to
be garrisoned by our allies. The French, however, were so weakened by
one defeat after another, that, though their fleet was never destroyed
by any total overthrow, they at last retained it in their harbours, and
applied their whole force to the resistance of the confederate army,
that now began to approach their frontiers, and threatened to lay waste
their provinces and cities.
In the latter years of this war, the danger of their neighbourhood in
America, seems to have been considered, and a fleet was fitted out, and
supplied with a proper number of land forces, to seize Quebec, the
capital of Canada, or New France; but this expedition miscarried, like
that of Anson against the Spaniards, by the lateness of the season, and
our ignorance of the coasts on which we were to act. We returned with
loss, and only excited our enemies to greater vigilance, and, perhaps,
to stronger fortifications.
When the peace of Utrecht was made, which those, who clamoured among us
most loudly against it, found it their interest to keep, the French
applied themselves, with the utmost industry, to the extension of their
trade, which we were so far from hindering, that, for many years, our
ministry thought their friendship of such value, as to be cheaply
purchased by whatever concession.
Instead, therefore, of opposing, as we had hitherto professed to do, the
boundless ambition of the house of Bourbon, we became, on a sudden,
solicitous for its exaltation, and studious of its interest. We assisted
the schemes of France and Spain with our fleets, and endeavoured to make
these our friends by servility, whom nothing but power will keep quiet,
and who must always be our enemies, while they are endeavouring to grow
greater, and we determine to remain free.
That nothing might be omitted, which could testify our willingness to
continue, on any terms, the good friends of France, we were content to
assist, not only their conquests, but their traffick; and, though we did
not openly repeal the prohibitory laws, we yet tamely suffered commerce
to be carried on between the two nations, and wool was daily imported,
to enable them to make cloth, which they carried to our markets, and
sold cheaper than we.
During all this time they were extending and strengthening their
settlements in America, contriving new modes of traffick, and framing
new alliances with the Indian nations. They began now to find these
northern regions, barren and desolate as they are, sufficiently valuable
to desire, at least, a nominal possession, that might furnish a pretence
for the exclusion of others; they, therefore, extended their claim to
tracts of land, which they could never hope to occupy, took care to give
their dominions an unlimited magnitude, have given, in their maps, the
name of Louisiana to a country, of which part is claimed by the
Spaniards, and part by the English, without any regard to ancient
boundaries, or prior discovery.
When the return of Columbus from his great voyage had filled all Europe
with wonder and curiosity, Henry the seventh sent Sebastian Cabot to try
what could be found for the benefit of England: he declined the track of
Columbus, and, steering to the westward, fell upon the island, which,
from that time, was called by the English Newfoundland. Our princes seem
to have considered themselves as entitled, by their right of prior
seizure, to the northern parts of America, as the Spaniards were
allowed, by universal consent, their claim to the southern region for
the same reason; and we, accordingly, made our principal settlements
within the limits of our own discoveries, and, by degrees, planted the
eastern coast, from Newfoundland to Georgia.
As we had, according to the European principles, which allow nothing to
the natives of these regions, our choice of situation in this extensive
country, we naturally fixed our habitations along the coast, for the
sake of traffick and correspondence and all the conveniencies of
navigable rivers. And when one port or river was occupied, the next
colony, instead of fixing themselves in the inland parts behind the
former, went on southward, till they pleased themselves with another
maritime situation. For this reason our colonies have more length than
depth; their extent, from east to west, or from the sea to the interior
country, bears no proportion to their reach along the coast, from north
to south.
It was, however, understood, by a kind of tacit compact among the
commercial powers, that possession of the coast included a right to the
inland; and, therefore, the charters granted to the several colonies,
limit their districts only from north to south, leaving their
possessions from east to west unlimited and discretional, supposing
that, as the colony increases, they may take lands as they shall want
them, the possession of the coasts, excluding other navigators, and the
unhappy Indians having no right of nature or of nations.
This right of the first European possessour was not disputed, till it
became the interest of the French to question it. Canada, or New France,
on which they made their first settlement, is situated eastward of our
colonies, between which they pass up the great river of St. Lawrence,
with Newfoundland on the north, and Nova Scotia on the south. Their
establishment in this country was neither envied nor hindered; and they
lived here, in no great numbers, a long time, neither molesting their
European neighbours, nor molested by them.
But when they grew stronger and more numerous, they began to extend
their territories; and, as it is natural for men to seek their own
convenience, the desire of more fertile and agreeable habitations
tempted them southward. There is land enough to the north and west of
their settlements, which they may occupy with as good right as can be
shown by the other European usurpers, and which neither the English nor
Spaniards will contest; but of this cold region, they have enough
already, and their resolution was to get a better country. This was not
to be had, but by settling to the west of our plantations, on ground
which has been, hitherto, supposed to belong to us.
Hither, therefore, they resolved to remove, and to fix, at their own
discretion, the western border of our colonies, which was, heretofore,
considered as unlimited. Thus by forming a line of forts, in some
measure parallel to the coast, they inclose us between their garrisons,
and the sea, and not only hinder our extension westward, but, whenever
they have a sufficient navy in the sea, can harass us on each side, as
they can invade us, at pleasure, from one or other of their forts.
This design was not, perhaps, discovered as soon as it was formed, and
was certainly not opposed so soon as it was discovered: we foolishly
hoped, that their encroachments would stop; that they would be prevailed
on, by treaty and remonstrance, to give up what they had taken, or to
put limits to themselves. We suffered them to establish one settlement
after another, to pass boundary after boundary, and add fort to fort,
till, at last, they grew strong enough to avow their designs, and defy
us to obstruct them.
By these provocations, long continued, we are, at length, forced into a
war, in which we have had, hitherto, very ill fortune. Our troops, under
Braddock, were dishonourably defeated; our fleets have yet done nothing
more than taken a few merchant ships, and have distressed some private
families, but have very little weakened the power of France. The
detention of their seamen makes it, indeed, less easy for them to fit
out their navy; but this deficiency will be easily supplied by the
alacrity of the nation, which is always eager for war.
It is unpleasing to represent our affairs to our own disadvantage; yet
it is necessary to show the evils which we desire to be removed; and,
therefore, some account may very properly be given of the measures which
have given them their present superiority.
They are said to be supplied from France with better governours than our
colonies have the fate to obtain from England. A French governour is
seldom chosen for any other reason than his qualifications for his
trust. To be a bankrupt at home, or to be so infamously vitious, that he
cannot be decently protected in his own country, seldom recommends any
man to the government of a French colony. Their officers are commonly
skilful, either in war or commerce, and are taught to have no
expectation of honour or preferment, but from the justice and vigour of
their administration.
Their great security is the friendship of the natives, and to this
advantage they have certainly an indubitable right; because it is the
consequence of their virtue. It is ridiculous to imagine, that the
friendship of nations, whether civil or barbarous, can be gained and
kept but by kind treatment; and, surely, they who intrude, uncalled,
upon the country of a distant people, ought to consider the natives as
worthy of common kindness, and content themselves to rob, without
insulting them. The French, as has been already observed, admit the
Indians, by intermarriage, to an equality with themselves; and those
nations, with which they have no such near intercourse, they gain over
to their interest by honesty in their dealings. Our factors and traders,
having no other purpose in view than immediate profit, use all the arts
of an European counting-house, to defraud the simple hunter of his furs.
These are some of the causes of our present weakness; our planters are
always quarrelling with their governour, whom they consider as less to
be trusted than the French; and our traders hourly alienate the Indians
by their tricks and oppressions, and we continue every day to show, by
new proofs; that no people can be great, who have ceased to be virtuous.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE TREATY
Between his Britannick majesty and imperial majesty of all the Russias,
signed at Moscow, Dec. 11, 1742; the treaty between his Britannick
majesty and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, signed June 18, 1755; and the
treaty between his Britannick majesty and her imperial majesty of all
the Russias, signed at St. Petersburg, Sept. 19/20, 1755 [26].
These are the treaties which, for many months, filled the senate with
debates, and the kingdom with clamours; which were represented, on one
part, as instances of the most profound policy and the most active care
of the publick welfare, and, on the other, as acts of the most
contemptible folly and most flagrant corruption, as violations of the
great trust of government, by which the wealth of Britain is sacrificed
to private views and to a particular province.
What honours our ministers and negotiators may expect to be paid to
their wisdom; it is hard to determine, for the demands of vanity are not
easily estimated. They should consider, before they call too loudly for
encomiums, that they live in an age, when the power of gold is no longer
a secret, and in which no man finds much difficulty in making a bargain,
with money in his hand. To hire troops is very easy to those who are
willing to pay their price. It appears, therefore, that whatever has
been done, was done by means which every man knows how to use, if
fortune is kind enough to put them in his power. To arm the nations of
the north in the cause of Britain, to bring down hosts against France,
from the polar circle, has, indeed, a sound of magnificence, which might
induce a mind unacquainted with publick affairs to imagine, that some
effort of policy, more than human, had been exerted, by which distant
nations were armed in our defence, and the influence of Britain was
extended to the utmost limits of the world. But when this striking
phenomenon of negotiation is more nearly inspected, it appears a
bargain, merely mercantile, of one power that wanted troops more than
money, with another that wanted money, and was burdened with troops;
between whom their mutual wants made an easy contract, and who have no
other friendship for each other, than reciprocal convenience happens to
produce.
We shall, therefore, leave the praises of our ministers to others, yet
not without this acknowledgment, that if they have done little, they do
not seem to boast of doing much; and, that whether influenced by modesty
or frugality, they have not wearied the publick with mercenary
panegyrists, but have been content with the concurrence of the
parliament, and have not much solicited the applauses of the people.
In publick, as in private transactions, men more frequently deviate from
the right, for want of virtue, than of wisdom; and those who declare
themselves dissatisfied with these treaties, impute them not to folly,
but corruption.
By these advocates for the independence of Britain, who, whether their
arguments be just, or not, seem to be most favourably heard by the
people, it is alleged, that these treaties are expensive, without
advantage; that they waste the treasure, which we want for our own
defence, upon a foreign interest; and pour the gains of our commerce
into the coffers of princes, whose enmity cannot hurt, nor friendship
help us; who set their subjects to sale, like sheep or oxen, without any
inquiry after the intentions of the buyer; and will withdraw the troops,
with which they have supplied us, whenever a higher bidder shall be
found.
This, perhaps, is true; but whether it be true, or false, is not worth
inquiry. We did not expect to buy their friendship, but their troops;
nor did we examine upon what principle we were supplied with assistance;
it was sufficient that we wanted forces, and that they were willing to
furnish them. Policy never pretended to make men wise and good; the
utmost of her power is to make the best use of men, such as they are, to
lay hold on lucky hours, to watch the present wants, and present
interests of others, and make them subservient to her own convenience.
It is further urged, with great vehemence, that these troops of Russia
and Hesse are not hired in defence of Britain; that we are engaged, in a
naval war, for territories on a distant continent; and that these
troops, though mercenaries, can never be auxiliaries; that they increase
the burden of the war, without hastening its conclusion, or promoting
its success; since they can neither be sent into America, the only part
of the world where England can, on the present occasion, have any
employment for land-forces, nor be put into our ships, by which, and by
which only, we are now to oppose and subdue our enemies.
Nature has stationed us in an island, inaccessible but by sea; and we
are now at war with an enemy, whose naval power is inferiour to our own,
and from whom, therefore, we are in no danger of invasion: to what
purpose, then, are troops hired in such uncommon numbers? To what end do
we procure strength, which we cannot exert, and exhaust the nation with
subsidies, at a time when nothing is disputed, which the princes, who
receive our subsidies, can defend? If we had purchased ships, and hired
seamen, we had apparently increased our power, and made ourselves
formidable to our enemies, and, if any increase of security be possible,
had secured ourselves still better from invasions: but what can the
regiments of Russia, or of Hesse, contribute to the defence of the
coasts of England; or, by what assistance can they repay us the sums,
which we have stipulated to pay for their costly friendship?
The king of Great Britain has, indeed, a territory on the continent, of
which the natives of this island scarcely knew the name, till the
present family was called to the throne, and yet know little more than
that our king visits it from time to time. Yet, for the defence of this
country, are these subsidies apparently paid, and these troops evidently
levied. The riches of our nation are sent into distant countries, and
the strength, which should be employed in our own quarrel, consequently
impaired, for the sake of dominions, the interest of which has no
connexion with ours, and which, by the act of succession, we took care
to keep separate from the British kingdoms.
To this the advocates for the subsidies say, that unreasonable
stipulations, whether in the act of settlement, or any other contract,
are, in themselves, void; and that if a country connected with England,
by subjection to the same sovereign, is endangered by an English
quarrel, it must be defended by English force; and that we do not engage
in a war, for the sake of Hanover, but that Hanover is, for our sake,
exposed to danger.
Those who brought in these foreign troops have still something further
to say in their defence, and of no honest plea is it our intention to
defraud them. They grant, that the terrour of invasion may, possibly, be
groundless; that the French may want the power, or the courage, to
attack us in our own country; but they maintain, likewise, that an
invasion is possible, that the armies of France are so numerous, that
she may hazard a large body on the ocean, without leaving herself
exposed; that she is exasperated to the utmost degree of acrimony, and
would be willing to do us mischief, at her own peril. They allow, that
the invaders may be intercepted at sea, or that, if they land, they may
be defeated by our native troops. But they say, and say justly, that
danger is better avoided than encountered; that those ministers consult
more the good of their country, who prevent invasion, than repel it; and
that, if these auxiliaries have only saved us from the anxiety of
expecting an enemy at our doors, or from the tumult and distress which
an invasion, how soon soever repressed, would have produced, the publick
money is not spent in vain.
These arguments are admitted by some, and by others rejected. But even
those that admit them, can admit them only as pleas of necessity; for
they consider the reception of mercenaries into our country, as the
desperate "remedy of desperate distress;" and think, with great reason,
that all means of prevention should be tried, to save us from any second
need of such doubtful succours.
That we are able to defend our own country, that arms are most safely
entrusted to our own hands, and that we have strength, and skill, and
courage, equal to the best of the nations of the continent, is the
opinion of every Englishman, who can think without prejudice, and speak
without influence; and, therefore, it will not be easy to persuade the
nation, a nation long renowned for valour, that it can need the help of
foreigners to defend it from invasion. We have been long without the
need of arms by our good fortune, and long without the use by our
negligence; so long, that the practice, and almost the name, of our old
trained bands is forgotten; but the story of ancient times will tell us,
that the trained bands were once able to maintain the quiet and safety
of their country; and reason, without history, will inform us, that
those men are most likely to fight bravely, or, at least, to fight
obstinately, who fight for their own houses and farms, for their own
wives and children.
A bill was, therefore, offered for the prevention of any future danger
or invasion, or necessity of mercenary forces, by reestablishing and
improving the militia. It was passed by the commons, but rejected by the
lords. That this bill, the first essay of political consideration, as a
subject long forgotten, should be liable to objection, cannot be
strange; but surely, justice, policy, common reason, require, that we
should be trusted with our own defence, and be kept, no longer in such a
helpless state as, at once, to dread our enemies and confederates.
By the bill, such as it was formed, sixty thousand men would always be
in arms. We have shown [27] how they may be, upon any exigence, easily
increased to a hundred and fifty thousand; and, I believe, neither our
friends nor enemies will think it proper to insult our coasts, when they
expect to find upon them a hundred and fifty thousand Englishmen, with
swords in their hands.
INTRODUCTION TO THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE COMMITTEE,
Appointed to manage the contributions begun at London, December 18,
1758, for clothing French prisoners of war.
The committee intrusted with the money, contributed to the relief of the
subjects of France, now prisoners in the British dominions, here lay
before the publick an exact account of all the sums received and
expended, that the donors may judge how properly their benefactions have
been applied.
Charity would lose its name, were it influenced by so mean a motive as
human praise; it is, therefore, not intended to celebrate, by any
particular memorial, the liberality of single persons, or distinct
societies; it is sufficient, that their works praise them.
Yet he, who is far from seeking honour, may very justly obviate censure.
If a good example has been set, it may lose its influence by
misrepresentation; and, to free charity from reproach is itself a
charitable action.
Against the relief of the French only one argument has been brought; but
that one is so popular and specious, that, if it were to remain
unexamined, it would, by many, be thought irrefragable. It has been
urged, that charity, like other virtues, may be improperly and
unseasonably exerted; that, while we are relieving Frenchmen, there
remain many Englishmen unrelieved; that, while we lavish pity on our
enemies, we forget the misery of our friends.
Grant this argument all it can prove, and what is the conclusion? --That
to relieve the French is a good action, but that a better may be
conceived. This is all the result, and this all is very little. To do
the best can seldom be the lot of man: it is sufficient if, when
opportunities are presented, he is ready to do good. How little virtue
could be practised, if beneficence were to wait always for the most
proper objects, and the noblest occasions; occasions that may never
happen, and objects that may never be found.
It is far from certain, that a single Englishman will suffer by the
charity to the French. New scenes of misery make new impressions; and
much of the charity, which produced these donations, may be supposed to
have been generated by a species of calamity never known among us
before. Some imagine, that the laws have provided all necessary relief,
in common cases, and remit the poor to the care of the publick; some
have been deceived by fictitious misery, and are afraid of encouraging
imposture; many have observed want to be the effect of vice, and
consider casual alms-givers as patrons of idleness. But all these
difficulties vanish in the present case: we know, that for the prisoners
of war there is no legal provision; we see their distress, and are
certain of its cause; we know that they are poor and naked, and poor and
naked without a crime.
But it is not necessary to make any concessions. The opponents of this
charity must allow it to be good, and will not easily prove it not to be
the best. That charity is best, of which the consequences are most
extensive: the relief of enemies has a tendency to unite mankind in
fraternal affection; to soften the acrimony of adverse nations, and
dispose them to peace and amity; in the mean time, it alleviates
captivity, and takes away something from the miseries of war. The rage
of war, however mitigated, will always fill the world with calamity and
horrour; let it not, then, be unnecessarily extended; let animosity and
hostility cease together; and no man be longer deemed an enemy, than
while his sword is drawn against us.
The effects of these contributions may, perhaps, reach still further.
Truth is best supported by virtue: we may hope, from those who feel, or
who see, our charity, that they shall no longer detest, as heresy, that
religion, which makes its professors the followers of him, who has
commanded us to "do good to them that hate us. "
ON THE BRAVERY OF THE ENGLISH COMMON SOLDIERS [28],
By those who have compared the military genius of the English with that
of the French nation, it is remarked, that "the French officers will
always lead, if the soldiers will follow;" and that "the English
soldiers will always follow, if their officers will lead. "
In all pointed sentences, some degree of accuracy must be sacrificed to
conciseness; and, in this comparison, our officers seem to lose what our
soldiers gain. I know not any reason for supposing that the English
officers are less willing than the French to lead; but it is, I think,
universally allowed, that the English soldiers are more willing to
follow. Our nation may boast, beyond any other people in the world, of a
kind of epidemick bravery, diffused equally through all its ranks. We
can show a peasantry of heroes, and fill our armies with clowns, whose
courage may vie with that of their general.
There may be some pleasure in tracing the causes of this plebeian
magnanimity. The qualities which, commonly, make an army formidable, are
long habits of regularity, great exactness of discipline, and great
confidence in the commander. Regularity may, in time, produce a kind of
mechanical obedience to signals and commands, like that which the
perverse cartesians impute to animals; discipline may impress such an
awe upon the mind, that any danger shall be less dreaded, than the
danger of punishment; and confidence in the wisdom, or fortune, of the
general may induce the soldiers to follow him blindly to the most
dangerous enterprise.
What may be done by discipline and regularity, may be seen in the troops
of the Russian emperess, and Prussian monarch. We find, that they may be
broken without confusion, and repulsed without flight.
But the English troops have none of these requisites, in any eminent
degree. Regularity is, by no means, part of their character: they are
rarely exercised, and, therefore, show very little dexterity in their
evolutions, as bodies of men, or in the manual use of their weapons, as
individuals; they neither are thought by others, nor by themselves, more
active, or exact, than their enemies, and, therefore, derive none of
their courage from such imaginary superiority.
The manner in which they are dispersed in quarters, over the country,
during times of peace, naturally produces laxity of discipline: they are
very little in sight of their officers; and, when they are not engaged
in the slight duty of the guard, are suffered to live, every man his own
way.
The equality of English privileges, the impartiality of our laws, the
freedom of our tenures, and the prosperity of our trade, dispose us very
little to reverence superiours. It is not to any great esteem of the
officers, that the English soldier is indebted for his spirit in the
hour of battle; for, perhaps, it does not often happen, that he thinks
much better of his leader than of himself. The French count, who has
lately published the Art of War, remarks, how much soldiers are
animated, when they see all their dangers shared by those who were born
to be their masters, and whom they consider, as beings of a different
rank. The Englishman despises such motives of courage: he was born
without a master; and looks not on any man, however dignified by lace or
titles, as deriving, from nature, any claims to his respect, or
inheriting any qualities superiour to his own.
There are some, perhaps, who would imagine, that every Englishman fights
better than the subjects of absolute governments, because he has more to
defend. But what has the English more than the French soldier? Property
they are both, commonly, without. Liberty is, to the lowest rank of
every nation, little more than the choice of working or starving; and
this choice is, I suppose, equally allowed in every country. The English
soldier seldom has his head very full of the constitution; nor has there
been, for more than a century, any war that put the property or liberty
of a single Englishman in danger.
Whence, then, is the courage of the English vulgar? It proceeds, in my
opinion, from that dissolution of dependence, which obliges every man to
regard his own character. While every man is fed by his own hands, he
has no need of any servile arts; he may always have wages for his
labour; and is no less necessary to his employer, than his employer is
to him. While he looks for no protection from others, he is naturally
roused to be his own protector; and having nothing to abate his esteem
of himself, he, consequently, aspires to the esteem of others. Thus
every man that crowds our streets is a man of honour, disdainful of
obligation, impatient of reproach, and desirous of extending his
reputation among those of his own rank; and, as courage is in most
frequent use, the fame of courage is most eagerly pursued. From this
neglect of subordination, I do not deny, that some inconveniencies may,
from time to time, proceed: the power of the law does not, always,
sufficiently supply the want of reverence, or maintain the proper
distinction between different ranks; but good and evil will grow up in
this world together; and they who complain, in peace, of the insolence
of the populace, must remember, that their insolence in peace is bravery
in war.
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. They were reduced almost to extremities by an
invasion from France; but soon recovered from their consternation, and,
by the fluctuation of war, regained their cities and provinces with the
same speed as they had lost them.
During the time of Charles the second, the power of France was every day
increasing; and Charles, who never disturbed himself with remote
consequences, saw the progress of her arms and the extension of her
dominions, with very little uneasiness. He was, indeed, sometimes
driven, by the prevailing faction, into confederacies against her; but
as he had, probably, a secret partiality in her favour, he never
persevered long in acting against her, nor ever acted with much vigour;
so that, by his feeble resistance, he rather raised her confidence than
hindered her designs.
About this time the French first began to perceive the advantage of
commerce, and the importance of a naval force; and such encouragement
was given to manufactures, and so eagerly was every project received, by
which trade could be advanced, that, in a few years, the sea was filled
with their ships, and all the parts of the world crowded with their
merchants. There is, perhaps, no instance in human story, of such a
change produced in so short a time, in the schemes and manners of a
people, of so many new sources of wealth opened, and such numbers of
artificers and merchants made to start out of the ground, as was seen in
the ministry of Colbert.
Now it was that the power of France became formidable to England. Her
dominions were large before, and her armies numerous; but her operations
were necessarily confined to the continent. She had neither ships for
the transportation of her troops, nor money for their support in distant
expeditions. Colbert saw both these wants, and saw that commerce only
would supply them. The fertility of their country furnishes the French
with commodities; the poverty of the common people keeps the price of
labour low. By the obvious practice of selling much and buying little,
it was apparent, that they would soon draw the wealth of other countries
into their own; and, by carrying out their merchandise in their own
vessels, a numerous body of sailors would quickly be raised.
This was projected, and this was performed. The king of France was soon
enabled to bribe those whom he could not conquer, and to terrify, with
his fleets, those whom his armies could not have approached. The
influence of France was suddenly diffused all over the globe; her arms
were dreaded, and her pensions received in remote regions, and those
were almost ready to acknowledge her sovereignty, who, a few years
before, had scarcely heard her name. She thundered on the coasts of
Africa, and received ambassadours from Siam.
So much may be done by one wise man endeavouring, with honesty, the
advantage of the publick. But that we may not rashly condemn all
ministers, as wanting wisdom or integrity, whose counsels have produced
no such apparent benefits to their country, it must be considered, that
Colbert had means of acting, which our government does not allow. He
could enforce all his orders by the power of an absolute monarch; he
could compel individuals to sacrifice their private profit to the
general good; he could make one understanding preside over many hands,
and remove difficulties by quick and violent expedients. Where no man
thinks himself under any obligation to submit to another, and, instead
of cooperating in one great scheme, every one hastens through by-paths
to private profit, no great change can suddenly be made; nor is
superiour knowledge of much effect, where every man resolves to use his
own eyes and his own judgment, and every one applauds his own dexterity
and diligence, in proportion as he becomes rich sooner than his
neighbour.
Colonies are always the effects and causes of navigation. They who visit
many countries find some, in which pleasure, profit, or safety invite
them to settle; and these settlements, when they are once made, must
keep a perpetual correspondence with the original country to which they
are subject, and on which they depend for protection in danger, and
supplies in necessity. So that a country, once discovered and planted,
must always find employment for shipping, more certainly than any
foreign commerce, which, depending on casualties, may be sometimes more,
and sometimes less, and which other nations may contract or suppress. A
trade to colonies can never be much impaired, being, in reality, only an
intercourse between distant provinces of the same empire, from which
intruders are easily excluded; likewise the interest and affection of
the correspondent parties, however distant, is the same.
On this reason all nations, whose power has been exerted on the ocean,
have fixed colonies in remote parts of the world; and while those
colonies subsisted, navigation, if it did not increase, was always
preserved from total decay. With this policy the French were well
acquainted, and, therefore, improved and augmented the settlements in
America and other regions, in proportion as they advanced their schemes
of naval greatness.
The exact time, in which they made their acquisitions in America, or
other quarters of the globe, it is not necessary to collect. It is
sufficient to observe, that their trade and their colonies increased
together; and, if their naval armaments were carried on, as they really
were, in greater proportion to their commerce, than can be practised in
other countries, it must be attributed to the martial disposition at
that time prevailing in the nation, to the frequent wars which Lewis the
fourteenth made upon his neighbours, and to the extensive commerce of
the English and Dutch, which afforded so much plunder to privateers,
that war was more lucrative than traffick.
Thus the naval power of France continued to increase during the reign of
Charles the second, who, between his fondness of ease and pleasure, the
struggles of faction, which he could not suppress, and his inclination
to the friendship of absolute monarchy, had not much power or desire to
repress it. And of James the second it could not be expected, that he
should act against his neighbours with great vigour, having the whole
body of his subjects to oppose. He was not ignorant of the real interest
of his country; he desired its power and its happiness, and thought
rightly, that there is no happiness without religion; but he thought
very erroneously and absurdly, that there is no religion without popery.
When the necessity of self-preservation had impelled the subjects of
James to drive him from the throne, there came a time in which the
passions, as well as interest of the government, acted against the
French, and in which it may, perhaps, be reasonably doubted, whether the
desire of humbling France was not stronger, than that of exalting
England: of this, however, it is not necessary to inquire, since, though
the intention may be different, the event will be the same. All mouths
were now open to declare what every eye had observed before, that the
arms of France were become dangerous to Europe; and that, if her
encroachments were suffered a little longer, resistance would be too
late.
It was now determined to reassert the empire of the sea; but it was more
easily determined than performed: the French made a vigorous defence
against the united power of England and Holland, and were sometimes
masters of the ocean, though the two maritime powers were united against
them. At length, however, they were defeated at La Hogue; a great part
of their fleet was destroyed, and they were reduced to carry on the war
only with their privateers, from whom there was suffered much petty
mischief, though there was no danger of conquest or invasion. They
distressed our merchants, and obliged us to the continual expense of
convoys and fleets of observation; and, by skulking in little coves and
shallow waters, escaped our pursuit.
In this reign began our confederacy with the Dutch, which mutual
interest has now improved into a friendship, conceived by some to be
inseparable; and, from that time, the states began to be termed, in the
style of politicians, our faithful friends, the allies which nature has
given us, our protestant confederates, and by many other names of
national endearment. We have, it is true, the same interest, as opposed
to France, and some resemblance of religion, as opposed to popery; but
we have such a rivalry, in respect of commerce, as will always keep us
from very close adherence to each other. No mercantile man, or
mercantile nation, has any friendship but for money, and alliance
between them will last no longer, than their common safety, or common
profit is endangered; no longer than they have an enemy, who threatens
to take from each more than either can steal from the other.
We were both sufficiently interested in repressing the ambition, and
obstructing the commerce of France; and, therefore, we concurred with as
much fidelity, and as regular cooperation, as is commonly found. The
Dutch were in immediate danger, the armies of their enemies hovered over
their country, and, therefore, they were obliged to dismiss, for a time,
their love of money, and their narrow projects of private profit, and to
do what a trader does not willingly, at any time, believe necessary, to
sacrifice a part for the preservation of the whole.
A peace was at length made, and the French, with their usual vigour and
industry, rebuilt their fleets, restored their commerce, and became, in
a very few years, able to contest again the dominion of the sea. Their
ships were well built, and always very numerously manned; their
commanders, having no hopes but from their bravery, or their fortune,
were resolute, and, being very carefully educated for the sea, were
eminently skilful.
All this was soon perceived, when queen Anne, the then darling of
England, declared war against France. Our success by sea, though
sufficient to keep us from dejection, was not such as dejected our
enemies. It is, indeed, to be confessed, that we did not exert our whole
naval strength; Marlborough was the governour of our counsels, and the
great view of Marlborough was a war by land, which he knew well how to
conduct, both to the honour of his country and his own profit. The fleet
was, therefore, starved, that the army might be supplied, and naval
advantages were neglected, for the sake of taking a town in Flanders, to
be garrisoned by our allies. The French, however, were so weakened by
one defeat after another, that, though their fleet was never destroyed
by any total overthrow, they at last retained it in their harbours, and
applied their whole force to the resistance of the confederate army,
that now began to approach their frontiers, and threatened to lay waste
their provinces and cities.
In the latter years of this war, the danger of their neighbourhood in
America, seems to have been considered, and a fleet was fitted out, and
supplied with a proper number of land forces, to seize Quebec, the
capital of Canada, or New France; but this expedition miscarried, like
that of Anson against the Spaniards, by the lateness of the season, and
our ignorance of the coasts on which we were to act. We returned with
loss, and only excited our enemies to greater vigilance, and, perhaps,
to stronger fortifications.
When the peace of Utrecht was made, which those, who clamoured among us
most loudly against it, found it their interest to keep, the French
applied themselves, with the utmost industry, to the extension of their
trade, which we were so far from hindering, that, for many years, our
ministry thought their friendship of such value, as to be cheaply
purchased by whatever concession.
Instead, therefore, of opposing, as we had hitherto professed to do, the
boundless ambition of the house of Bourbon, we became, on a sudden,
solicitous for its exaltation, and studious of its interest. We assisted
the schemes of France and Spain with our fleets, and endeavoured to make
these our friends by servility, whom nothing but power will keep quiet,
and who must always be our enemies, while they are endeavouring to grow
greater, and we determine to remain free.
That nothing might be omitted, which could testify our willingness to
continue, on any terms, the good friends of France, we were content to
assist, not only their conquests, but their traffick; and, though we did
not openly repeal the prohibitory laws, we yet tamely suffered commerce
to be carried on between the two nations, and wool was daily imported,
to enable them to make cloth, which they carried to our markets, and
sold cheaper than we.
During all this time they were extending and strengthening their
settlements in America, contriving new modes of traffick, and framing
new alliances with the Indian nations. They began now to find these
northern regions, barren and desolate as they are, sufficiently valuable
to desire, at least, a nominal possession, that might furnish a pretence
for the exclusion of others; they, therefore, extended their claim to
tracts of land, which they could never hope to occupy, took care to give
their dominions an unlimited magnitude, have given, in their maps, the
name of Louisiana to a country, of which part is claimed by the
Spaniards, and part by the English, without any regard to ancient
boundaries, or prior discovery.
When the return of Columbus from his great voyage had filled all Europe
with wonder and curiosity, Henry the seventh sent Sebastian Cabot to try
what could be found for the benefit of England: he declined the track of
Columbus, and, steering to the westward, fell upon the island, which,
from that time, was called by the English Newfoundland. Our princes seem
to have considered themselves as entitled, by their right of prior
seizure, to the northern parts of America, as the Spaniards were
allowed, by universal consent, their claim to the southern region for
the same reason; and we, accordingly, made our principal settlements
within the limits of our own discoveries, and, by degrees, planted the
eastern coast, from Newfoundland to Georgia.
As we had, according to the European principles, which allow nothing to
the natives of these regions, our choice of situation in this extensive
country, we naturally fixed our habitations along the coast, for the
sake of traffick and correspondence and all the conveniencies of
navigable rivers. And when one port or river was occupied, the next
colony, instead of fixing themselves in the inland parts behind the
former, went on southward, till they pleased themselves with another
maritime situation. For this reason our colonies have more length than
depth; their extent, from east to west, or from the sea to the interior
country, bears no proportion to their reach along the coast, from north
to south.
It was, however, understood, by a kind of tacit compact among the
commercial powers, that possession of the coast included a right to the
inland; and, therefore, the charters granted to the several colonies,
limit their districts only from north to south, leaving their
possessions from east to west unlimited and discretional, supposing
that, as the colony increases, they may take lands as they shall want
them, the possession of the coasts, excluding other navigators, and the
unhappy Indians having no right of nature or of nations.
This right of the first European possessour was not disputed, till it
became the interest of the French to question it. Canada, or New France,
on which they made their first settlement, is situated eastward of our
colonies, between which they pass up the great river of St. Lawrence,
with Newfoundland on the north, and Nova Scotia on the south. Their
establishment in this country was neither envied nor hindered; and they
lived here, in no great numbers, a long time, neither molesting their
European neighbours, nor molested by them.
But when they grew stronger and more numerous, they began to extend
their territories; and, as it is natural for men to seek their own
convenience, the desire of more fertile and agreeable habitations
tempted them southward. There is land enough to the north and west of
their settlements, which they may occupy with as good right as can be
shown by the other European usurpers, and which neither the English nor
Spaniards will contest; but of this cold region, they have enough
already, and their resolution was to get a better country. This was not
to be had, but by settling to the west of our plantations, on ground
which has been, hitherto, supposed to belong to us.
Hither, therefore, they resolved to remove, and to fix, at their own
discretion, the western border of our colonies, which was, heretofore,
considered as unlimited. Thus by forming a line of forts, in some
measure parallel to the coast, they inclose us between their garrisons,
and the sea, and not only hinder our extension westward, but, whenever
they have a sufficient navy in the sea, can harass us on each side, as
they can invade us, at pleasure, from one or other of their forts.
This design was not, perhaps, discovered as soon as it was formed, and
was certainly not opposed so soon as it was discovered: we foolishly
hoped, that their encroachments would stop; that they would be prevailed
on, by treaty and remonstrance, to give up what they had taken, or to
put limits to themselves. We suffered them to establish one settlement
after another, to pass boundary after boundary, and add fort to fort,
till, at last, they grew strong enough to avow their designs, and defy
us to obstruct them.
By these provocations, long continued, we are, at length, forced into a
war, in which we have had, hitherto, very ill fortune. Our troops, under
Braddock, were dishonourably defeated; our fleets have yet done nothing
more than taken a few merchant ships, and have distressed some private
families, but have very little weakened the power of France. The
detention of their seamen makes it, indeed, less easy for them to fit
out their navy; but this deficiency will be easily supplied by the
alacrity of the nation, which is always eager for war.
It is unpleasing to represent our affairs to our own disadvantage; yet
it is necessary to show the evils which we desire to be removed; and,
therefore, some account may very properly be given of the measures which
have given them their present superiority.
They are said to be supplied from France with better governours than our
colonies have the fate to obtain from England. A French governour is
seldom chosen for any other reason than his qualifications for his
trust. To be a bankrupt at home, or to be so infamously vitious, that he
cannot be decently protected in his own country, seldom recommends any
man to the government of a French colony. Their officers are commonly
skilful, either in war or commerce, and are taught to have no
expectation of honour or preferment, but from the justice and vigour of
their administration.
Their great security is the friendship of the natives, and to this
advantage they have certainly an indubitable right; because it is the
consequence of their virtue. It is ridiculous to imagine, that the
friendship of nations, whether civil or barbarous, can be gained and
kept but by kind treatment; and, surely, they who intrude, uncalled,
upon the country of a distant people, ought to consider the natives as
worthy of common kindness, and content themselves to rob, without
insulting them. The French, as has been already observed, admit the
Indians, by intermarriage, to an equality with themselves; and those
nations, with which they have no such near intercourse, they gain over
to their interest by honesty in their dealings. Our factors and traders,
having no other purpose in view than immediate profit, use all the arts
of an European counting-house, to defraud the simple hunter of his furs.
These are some of the causes of our present weakness; our planters are
always quarrelling with their governour, whom they consider as less to
be trusted than the French; and our traders hourly alienate the Indians
by their tricks and oppressions, and we continue every day to show, by
new proofs; that no people can be great, who have ceased to be virtuous.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE TREATY
Between his Britannick majesty and imperial majesty of all the Russias,
signed at Moscow, Dec. 11, 1742; the treaty between his Britannick
majesty and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, signed June 18, 1755; and the
treaty between his Britannick majesty and her imperial majesty of all
the Russias, signed at St. Petersburg, Sept. 19/20, 1755 [26].
These are the treaties which, for many months, filled the senate with
debates, and the kingdom with clamours; which were represented, on one
part, as instances of the most profound policy and the most active care
of the publick welfare, and, on the other, as acts of the most
contemptible folly and most flagrant corruption, as violations of the
great trust of government, by which the wealth of Britain is sacrificed
to private views and to a particular province.
What honours our ministers and negotiators may expect to be paid to
their wisdom; it is hard to determine, for the demands of vanity are not
easily estimated. They should consider, before they call too loudly for
encomiums, that they live in an age, when the power of gold is no longer
a secret, and in which no man finds much difficulty in making a bargain,
with money in his hand. To hire troops is very easy to those who are
willing to pay their price. It appears, therefore, that whatever has
been done, was done by means which every man knows how to use, if
fortune is kind enough to put them in his power. To arm the nations of
the north in the cause of Britain, to bring down hosts against France,
from the polar circle, has, indeed, a sound of magnificence, which might
induce a mind unacquainted with publick affairs to imagine, that some
effort of policy, more than human, had been exerted, by which distant
nations were armed in our defence, and the influence of Britain was
extended to the utmost limits of the world. But when this striking
phenomenon of negotiation is more nearly inspected, it appears a
bargain, merely mercantile, of one power that wanted troops more than
money, with another that wanted money, and was burdened with troops;
between whom their mutual wants made an easy contract, and who have no
other friendship for each other, than reciprocal convenience happens to
produce.
We shall, therefore, leave the praises of our ministers to others, yet
not without this acknowledgment, that if they have done little, they do
not seem to boast of doing much; and, that whether influenced by modesty
or frugality, they have not wearied the publick with mercenary
panegyrists, but have been content with the concurrence of the
parliament, and have not much solicited the applauses of the people.
In publick, as in private transactions, men more frequently deviate from
the right, for want of virtue, than of wisdom; and those who declare
themselves dissatisfied with these treaties, impute them not to folly,
but corruption.
By these advocates for the independence of Britain, who, whether their
arguments be just, or not, seem to be most favourably heard by the
people, it is alleged, that these treaties are expensive, without
advantage; that they waste the treasure, which we want for our own
defence, upon a foreign interest; and pour the gains of our commerce
into the coffers of princes, whose enmity cannot hurt, nor friendship
help us; who set their subjects to sale, like sheep or oxen, without any
inquiry after the intentions of the buyer; and will withdraw the troops,
with which they have supplied us, whenever a higher bidder shall be
found.
This, perhaps, is true; but whether it be true, or false, is not worth
inquiry. We did not expect to buy their friendship, but their troops;
nor did we examine upon what principle we were supplied with assistance;
it was sufficient that we wanted forces, and that they were willing to
furnish them. Policy never pretended to make men wise and good; the
utmost of her power is to make the best use of men, such as they are, to
lay hold on lucky hours, to watch the present wants, and present
interests of others, and make them subservient to her own convenience.
It is further urged, with great vehemence, that these troops of Russia
and Hesse are not hired in defence of Britain; that we are engaged, in a
naval war, for territories on a distant continent; and that these
troops, though mercenaries, can never be auxiliaries; that they increase
the burden of the war, without hastening its conclusion, or promoting
its success; since they can neither be sent into America, the only part
of the world where England can, on the present occasion, have any
employment for land-forces, nor be put into our ships, by which, and by
which only, we are now to oppose and subdue our enemies.
Nature has stationed us in an island, inaccessible but by sea; and we
are now at war with an enemy, whose naval power is inferiour to our own,
and from whom, therefore, we are in no danger of invasion: to what
purpose, then, are troops hired in such uncommon numbers? To what end do
we procure strength, which we cannot exert, and exhaust the nation with
subsidies, at a time when nothing is disputed, which the princes, who
receive our subsidies, can defend? If we had purchased ships, and hired
seamen, we had apparently increased our power, and made ourselves
formidable to our enemies, and, if any increase of security be possible,
had secured ourselves still better from invasions: but what can the
regiments of Russia, or of Hesse, contribute to the defence of the
coasts of England; or, by what assistance can they repay us the sums,
which we have stipulated to pay for their costly friendship?
The king of Great Britain has, indeed, a territory on the continent, of
which the natives of this island scarcely knew the name, till the
present family was called to the throne, and yet know little more than
that our king visits it from time to time. Yet, for the defence of this
country, are these subsidies apparently paid, and these troops evidently
levied. The riches of our nation are sent into distant countries, and
the strength, which should be employed in our own quarrel, consequently
impaired, for the sake of dominions, the interest of which has no
connexion with ours, and which, by the act of succession, we took care
to keep separate from the British kingdoms.
To this the advocates for the subsidies say, that unreasonable
stipulations, whether in the act of settlement, or any other contract,
are, in themselves, void; and that if a country connected with England,
by subjection to the same sovereign, is endangered by an English
quarrel, it must be defended by English force; and that we do not engage
in a war, for the sake of Hanover, but that Hanover is, for our sake,
exposed to danger.
Those who brought in these foreign troops have still something further
to say in their defence, and of no honest plea is it our intention to
defraud them. They grant, that the terrour of invasion may, possibly, be
groundless; that the French may want the power, or the courage, to
attack us in our own country; but they maintain, likewise, that an
invasion is possible, that the armies of France are so numerous, that
she may hazard a large body on the ocean, without leaving herself
exposed; that she is exasperated to the utmost degree of acrimony, and
would be willing to do us mischief, at her own peril. They allow, that
the invaders may be intercepted at sea, or that, if they land, they may
be defeated by our native troops. But they say, and say justly, that
danger is better avoided than encountered; that those ministers consult
more the good of their country, who prevent invasion, than repel it; and
that, if these auxiliaries have only saved us from the anxiety of
expecting an enemy at our doors, or from the tumult and distress which
an invasion, how soon soever repressed, would have produced, the publick
money is not spent in vain.
These arguments are admitted by some, and by others rejected. But even
those that admit them, can admit them only as pleas of necessity; for
they consider the reception of mercenaries into our country, as the
desperate "remedy of desperate distress;" and think, with great reason,
that all means of prevention should be tried, to save us from any second
need of such doubtful succours.
That we are able to defend our own country, that arms are most safely
entrusted to our own hands, and that we have strength, and skill, and
courage, equal to the best of the nations of the continent, is the
opinion of every Englishman, who can think without prejudice, and speak
without influence; and, therefore, it will not be easy to persuade the
nation, a nation long renowned for valour, that it can need the help of
foreigners to defend it from invasion. We have been long without the
need of arms by our good fortune, and long without the use by our
negligence; so long, that the practice, and almost the name, of our old
trained bands is forgotten; but the story of ancient times will tell us,
that the trained bands were once able to maintain the quiet and safety
of their country; and reason, without history, will inform us, that
those men are most likely to fight bravely, or, at least, to fight
obstinately, who fight for their own houses and farms, for their own
wives and children.
A bill was, therefore, offered for the prevention of any future danger
or invasion, or necessity of mercenary forces, by reestablishing and
improving the militia. It was passed by the commons, but rejected by the
lords. That this bill, the first essay of political consideration, as a
subject long forgotten, should be liable to objection, cannot be
strange; but surely, justice, policy, common reason, require, that we
should be trusted with our own defence, and be kept, no longer in such a
helpless state as, at once, to dread our enemies and confederates.
By the bill, such as it was formed, sixty thousand men would always be
in arms. We have shown [27] how they may be, upon any exigence, easily
increased to a hundred and fifty thousand; and, I believe, neither our
friends nor enemies will think it proper to insult our coasts, when they
expect to find upon them a hundred and fifty thousand Englishmen, with
swords in their hands.
INTRODUCTION TO THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE COMMITTEE,
Appointed to manage the contributions begun at London, December 18,
1758, for clothing French prisoners of war.
The committee intrusted with the money, contributed to the relief of the
subjects of France, now prisoners in the British dominions, here lay
before the publick an exact account of all the sums received and
expended, that the donors may judge how properly their benefactions have
been applied.
Charity would lose its name, were it influenced by so mean a motive as
human praise; it is, therefore, not intended to celebrate, by any
particular memorial, the liberality of single persons, or distinct
societies; it is sufficient, that their works praise them.
Yet he, who is far from seeking honour, may very justly obviate censure.
If a good example has been set, it may lose its influence by
misrepresentation; and, to free charity from reproach is itself a
charitable action.
Against the relief of the French only one argument has been brought; but
that one is so popular and specious, that, if it were to remain
unexamined, it would, by many, be thought irrefragable. It has been
urged, that charity, like other virtues, may be improperly and
unseasonably exerted; that, while we are relieving Frenchmen, there
remain many Englishmen unrelieved; that, while we lavish pity on our
enemies, we forget the misery of our friends.
Grant this argument all it can prove, and what is the conclusion? --That
to relieve the French is a good action, but that a better may be
conceived. This is all the result, and this all is very little. To do
the best can seldom be the lot of man: it is sufficient if, when
opportunities are presented, he is ready to do good. How little virtue
could be practised, if beneficence were to wait always for the most
proper objects, and the noblest occasions; occasions that may never
happen, and objects that may never be found.
It is far from certain, that a single Englishman will suffer by the
charity to the French. New scenes of misery make new impressions; and
much of the charity, which produced these donations, may be supposed to
have been generated by a species of calamity never known among us
before. Some imagine, that the laws have provided all necessary relief,
in common cases, and remit the poor to the care of the publick; some
have been deceived by fictitious misery, and are afraid of encouraging
imposture; many have observed want to be the effect of vice, and
consider casual alms-givers as patrons of idleness. But all these
difficulties vanish in the present case: we know, that for the prisoners
of war there is no legal provision; we see their distress, and are
certain of its cause; we know that they are poor and naked, and poor and
naked without a crime.
But it is not necessary to make any concessions. The opponents of this
charity must allow it to be good, and will not easily prove it not to be
the best. That charity is best, of which the consequences are most
extensive: the relief of enemies has a tendency to unite mankind in
fraternal affection; to soften the acrimony of adverse nations, and
dispose them to peace and amity; in the mean time, it alleviates
captivity, and takes away something from the miseries of war. The rage
of war, however mitigated, will always fill the world with calamity and
horrour; let it not, then, be unnecessarily extended; let animosity and
hostility cease together; and no man be longer deemed an enemy, than
while his sword is drawn against us.
The effects of these contributions may, perhaps, reach still further.
Truth is best supported by virtue: we may hope, from those who feel, or
who see, our charity, that they shall no longer detest, as heresy, that
religion, which makes its professors the followers of him, who has
commanded us to "do good to them that hate us. "
ON THE BRAVERY OF THE ENGLISH COMMON SOLDIERS [28],
By those who have compared the military genius of the English with that
of the French nation, it is remarked, that "the French officers will
always lead, if the soldiers will follow;" and that "the English
soldiers will always follow, if their officers will lead. "
In all pointed sentences, some degree of accuracy must be sacrificed to
conciseness; and, in this comparison, our officers seem to lose what our
soldiers gain. I know not any reason for supposing that the English
officers are less willing than the French to lead; but it is, I think,
universally allowed, that the English soldiers are more willing to
follow. Our nation may boast, beyond any other people in the world, of a
kind of epidemick bravery, diffused equally through all its ranks. We
can show a peasantry of heroes, and fill our armies with clowns, whose
courage may vie with that of their general.
There may be some pleasure in tracing the causes of this plebeian
magnanimity. The qualities which, commonly, make an army formidable, are
long habits of regularity, great exactness of discipline, and great
confidence in the commander. Regularity may, in time, produce a kind of
mechanical obedience to signals and commands, like that which the
perverse cartesians impute to animals; discipline may impress such an
awe upon the mind, that any danger shall be less dreaded, than the
danger of punishment; and confidence in the wisdom, or fortune, of the
general may induce the soldiers to follow him blindly to the most
dangerous enterprise.
What may be done by discipline and regularity, may be seen in the troops
of the Russian emperess, and Prussian monarch. We find, that they may be
broken without confusion, and repulsed without flight.
But the English troops have none of these requisites, in any eminent
degree. Regularity is, by no means, part of their character: they are
rarely exercised, and, therefore, show very little dexterity in their
evolutions, as bodies of men, or in the manual use of their weapons, as
individuals; they neither are thought by others, nor by themselves, more
active, or exact, than their enemies, and, therefore, derive none of
their courage from such imaginary superiority.
The manner in which they are dispersed in quarters, over the country,
during times of peace, naturally produces laxity of discipline: they are
very little in sight of their officers; and, when they are not engaged
in the slight duty of the guard, are suffered to live, every man his own
way.
The equality of English privileges, the impartiality of our laws, the
freedom of our tenures, and the prosperity of our trade, dispose us very
little to reverence superiours. It is not to any great esteem of the
officers, that the English soldier is indebted for his spirit in the
hour of battle; for, perhaps, it does not often happen, that he thinks
much better of his leader than of himself. The French count, who has
lately published the Art of War, remarks, how much soldiers are
animated, when they see all their dangers shared by those who were born
to be their masters, and whom they consider, as beings of a different
rank. The Englishman despises such motives of courage: he was born
without a master; and looks not on any man, however dignified by lace or
titles, as deriving, from nature, any claims to his respect, or
inheriting any qualities superiour to his own.
There are some, perhaps, who would imagine, that every Englishman fights
better than the subjects of absolute governments, because he has more to
defend. But what has the English more than the French soldier? Property
they are both, commonly, without. Liberty is, to the lowest rank of
every nation, little more than the choice of working or starving; and
this choice is, I suppose, equally allowed in every country. The English
soldier seldom has his head very full of the constitution; nor has there
been, for more than a century, any war that put the property or liberty
of a single Englishman in danger.
Whence, then, is the courage of the English vulgar? It proceeds, in my
opinion, from that dissolution of dependence, which obliges every man to
regard his own character. While every man is fed by his own hands, he
has no need of any servile arts; he may always have wages for his
labour; and is no less necessary to his employer, than his employer is
to him. While he looks for no protection from others, he is naturally
roused to be his own protector; and having nothing to abate his esteem
of himself, he, consequently, aspires to the esteem of others. Thus
every man that crowds our streets is a man of honour, disdainful of
obligation, impatient of reproach, and desirous of extending his
reputation among those of his own rank; and, as courage is in most
frequent use, the fame of courage is most eagerly pursued. From this
neglect of subordination, I do not deny, that some inconveniencies may,
from time to time, proceed: the power of the law does not, always,
sufficiently supply the want of reverence, or maintain the proper
distinction between different ranks; but good and evil will grow up in
this world together; and they who complain, in peace, of the insolence
of the populace, must remember, that their insolence in peace is bravery
in war.