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The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. II. (of 12) by Edmund Burke

E >> Edmund Burke >> The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. II. (of 12)




One hundred and ten respectable members of Parliament voted for that
concession. Many not present when the motion was made were of the
sentiments of those who voted. I knew it would then have made peace. I
am not without hopes that it would do so at present, if it were adopted.
No benefit, no revenue, could be lost by it; something might possibly be
gained by its consequences. For be fully assured, that, of all the
phantoms that ever deluded the fond hopes of a credulous world, a
Parliamentary revenue in the colonies is the most perfectly chimerical.
Your breaking them to any subjection, far from relieving your burdens,
(the pretext for this war,) will never pay that military force which
will be kept up to the destruction of their liberties and yours. I risk
nothing in this prophecy.

* * * * *

Gentlemen, you have my opinions on the present state of public affairs.
Mean as they may be in themselves, your partiality has made them of some
importance. Without troubling myself to inquire whether I am under a
formal obligation to it, I have a pleasure in accounting for my conduct
to my constituents. I feel warmly on this subject, and I express myself
as I feel. If I presume to blame any public proceeding, I cannot be
supposed to be personal. Would to God I could be suspected of it! My
fault might be greater, but the public calamity would be less extensive.
If my conduct has not been able to make any impression on the warm part
of that ancient and powerful party with whose support I was not honored
at my election, on my side, my respect, regard, and duty to them is not
at all lessened. I owe the gentlemen who compose it my most humble
service in everything. I hope that whenever any of them were pleased to
command me, that they found me perfectly equal in my obedience. But
flattery and friendship are very different things; and to mislead is not
to serve them. I cannot purchase the favor of any man by concealing from
him what I think his ruin.

By the favor of my fellow-citizens, I am the representative of an
honest, well-ordered, virtuous city,--of a people who preserve more of
the original English simplicity and purity of manners than perhaps any
other. You possess among you several men and magistrates of large and
cultivated understandings, fit for any employment in any sphere. I do,
to the best of my power, act so as to make myself worthy of so honorable
a choice. If I were ready, on any call of my own vanity or interest, or
to answer any election purpose, to forsake principles (whatever they
are) which I had formed at a mature age, on full reflection, and which
had been confirmed by long experience, I should forfeit the only thing
which makes you pardon so many errors and imperfections in me.

Not that I think it fit for any one to rely too much on his own
understanding, or to be filled with a presumption not becoming a
Christian man in his own personal stability and rectitude. I hope I am
far from that vain confidence which almost always fails in trial. I know
my weakness in all respects, as much at least as any enemy I have; and I
attempt to take security against it. The only method which has ever been
found effectual to preserve any man against the corruption of nature and
example is an habit of life and communication of councils with the most
virtuous and public-spirited men of the age you live in. Such a society
cannot be kept without advantage, or deserted without shame. For this
rule of conduct I may be called in reproach a _party man_; but I am
little affected with such aspersions. In the way which they call party I
worship the Constitution of your fathers; and I shall never blush for my
political company. All reverence to honor, all idea of what it is, will
be lost out of the world, before it can be imputed as a fault to any
man, that he has been closely connected with those incomparable persons,
living and dead, with whom for eleven years I have constantly thought
and acted. If I have wandered out of the paths of rectitude into those
of interested faction, it was in company with the Saviles, the
Dowdeswells, the Wentworths, the Bentincks; with the Lenoxes, the
Manchesters, the Keppels, the Saunderses; with the temperate, permanent,
hereditary virtue of the whole house of Cavendish: names, among which,
some have extended your fame and empire in arms, and all have fought the
battle of your liberties in fields not less glorious. These, and many
more like these, grafting public principles on private honor, have
redeemed the present age, and would have adorned the most splendid
period in your history. Where could any man, conscious of his own
inability to act alone, and willing to act as he ought to do, have
arranged himself better? If any one thinks this kind of society to be
taken up as the best method of gratifying low personal pride or
ambitious interest, he is mistaken, and knows nothing of the world.

Preferring this connection, I do not mean to detract in the slightest
degree from others. There are some of those whom I admire at something
of a greater distance, with whom I have had the happiness also
perfectly to agree, in almost all the particulars in which I have
differed with some successive administrations; and they are such as it
never can be reputable to any government to reckon among its enemies.

I hope there are none of you corrupted with the doctrine taught by
wicked men for the worst purposes, and received by the malignant
credulity of envy and ignorance, which is, that the men who act upon the
public stage are all alike, all equally corrupt, all influenced by no
other views than the sordid lure of salary and pension. The thing I know
by experience to be false. Never expecting to find perfection in men,
and not looking for divine attributes in created beings, in my commerce
with my contemporaries I have found much human virtue. I have seen not a
little public spirit, a real subordination of interest to duty, and a
decent and regulated sensibility to honest fame and reputation. The age
unquestionably produces (whether in a greater or less number than former
times I know not) daring profligates and insidious hypocrites. What
then? Am I not to avail myself of whatever good is to be found in the
world, because of the mixture of evil that will always be in it? The
smallness of the quantity in currency only heightens the value. They who
raise suspicions on the good on account of the behavior of ill men are
of the party of the latter. The common cant is no justification for
taking this party. I have been deceived, say they, by _Titius_ and
_Maevius_; I have been the dupe of this pretender or of that mountebank;
and I can trust appearances no longer. But my credulity and want of
discernment cannot, as I conceive, amount to a fair presumption against
any man's integrity. A conscientious person would rather doubt his own
judgment than condemn his species. He would say, "I have observed
without attention, or judged upon erroneous maxims; I trusted to
profession, when I ought to have attended to conduct." Such a man will
grow wise, not malignant, by his acquaintance with the world. But he
that accuses all mankind of corruption ought to remember that he is sure
to convict only one. In truth, I should much rather admit those whom at
any time I have disrelished the most to be patterns of perfection than
seek a consolation to my own unworthiness in a general communion of
depravity with all about me.

That this ill-natured doctrine should be preached by the missionaries of
a court I do not wonder. It answers their purpose. But that it should be
heard among those who pretend to be strong assertors of liberty is not
only surprising, but hardly natural. This moral levelling is a _servile
principle_. It leads to practical passive obedience far better than all
the doctrines which the pliant accommodation of theology to power has
ever produced. It cuts up by the roots, not only all idea of forcible
resistance, but even of civil opposition. It disposes men to an abject
submission, not by opinion, which may be shaken by argument or altered
by passion, but by the strong ties of public and private interest. For,
if all men who act in a public situation are equally selfish, corrupt,
and venal, what reason can be given for desiring any sort of change,
which, besides the evils which must attend all changes, can be
productive of no possible advantage? The active men in the state are
true samples of the mass. If they are universally depraved, the
commonwealth itself is not sound. We may amuse ourselves with talking as
much as we please of the virtue of middle or humble life; that is, we
may place our confidence in the virtue of those who have never been
tried. But if the persons who are continually emerging out of that
sphere be no better than those whom birth has placed above it, what
hopes are there in the remainder of the body which is to furnish the
perpetual succession of the state? All who have ever written on
government are unanimous, that among a people generally corrupt liberty
cannot long exist. And, indeed, how is it possible, when those who are
to make the laws, to guard, to enforce, or to obey them, are, by a tacit
confederacy of manners, indisposed to the spirit of all generous and
noble institutions?

I am aware that the age is not what we all wish. But I am sure that the
only means of checking its precipitate degeneracy is heartily to concur
with whatever is the best in our time, and to have some more correct
standard of judging what that best is than the transient and uncertain
favor of a court. If once we are able to find, and can prevail on
ourselves to strengthen an union of such men, whatever accidentally
becomes indisposed to ill-exercised power, even by the ordinary
operation of human passions, must join with that society, and cannot
long be joined without in some degree assimilating to it. Virtue will
catch as well as vice by contact; and the public stock of honest, manly
principle will daily accumulate. We are not too nicely to scrutinize
motives as long as action is irreproachable. It is enough (and for a
worthy man perhaps too much) to deal out its infamy to convicted guilt
and declared apostasy.

This, Gentlemen, has been from the beginning the rule of my conduct; and
I mean to continue it, as long as such a body as I have described can
by any possibility be kept together; for I should think it the most
dreadful of all offences, not only towards the present generation, but
to all the future, if I were to do anything which could make the
minutest breach in this great conservatory of free principles. Those who
perhaps have the same intentions, but are separated by some little
political animosities, will, I hope, discern at last how little
conducive it is to any rational purpose to lower its reputation. For my
part, Gentlemen, from much experience, from no little thinking, and from
comparing a great variety of things, I am thoroughly persuaded that the
last hopes of preserving the spirit of the English Constitution, or of
reuniting the dissipated members of the English race upon a common plan
of tranquillity and liberty, does entirely depend on their firm and
lasting union, and above all on their keeping themselves from that
despair which is so very apt to fall on those whom a violence of
character and a mixture of ambitious views do not support through a
long, painful, and unsuccessful struggle.

There never, Gentlemen, was a period in which the steadfastness of some
men has been put to so sore a trial. It is not very difficult for
well-formed minds to abandon their interest; but the separation of fame
and virtue is an harsh divorce. Liberty is in danger of being made
unpopular to Englishmen. Contending for an imaginary power, we begin to
acquire the spirit of domination, and to lose the relish of honest
equality. The principles of our forefathers become suspected to us,
because we see them animating the present opposition of our children.
The faults which grow out of the luxuriance of freedom appear much more
shocking to us than the base vices which are generated from the rankness
of servitude. Accordingly, the least resistance to power appears more
inexcusable in our eyes than the greatest abuses of authority. All dread
of a standing military force is looked upon as a superstitious panic.
All shame of calling in foreigners and savages in a civil contest is
worn off. We grow indifferent to the consequences inevitable to
ourselves from the plan of ruling half the empire by a mercenary sword.
We are taught to believe that a desire of domineering over our
countrymen is love to our country, that those who hate civil war abet
rebellion, and that the amiable and conciliatory virtues of lenity,
moderation, and tenderness to the privileges of those who depend on this
kingdom are a sort of treason to the state.

It is impossible that we should remain long in a situation which breeds
such notions and dispositions without some great alteration in the
national character. Those ingenuous and feeling minds who are so
fortified against all other things, and so unarmed to whatever
approaches in the shape of disgrace, finding these principles, which
they considered as sure means of honor, to be grown into disrepute, will
retire disheartened and disgusted. Those of a more robust make, the
bold, able, ambitious men, who pay some of their court to power through
the people, and substitute the voice of transient opinion in the place
of true glory, will give into the general mode; and those superior
understandings which ought to correct vulgar prejudice will confirm and
aggravate its errors. Many things have been long operating towards a
gradual change in our principles; but this American war has done more in
a very few years than all the other causes could have effected in a
century. It is therefore not on its own separate account, but because of
its attendant circumstances, that I consider its continuance, or its
ending in any way but that of an honorable and liberal accommodation, as
the greatest evils which can befall us. For that reason I have troubled
you with this long letter. For that reason I entreat you, again and
again, neither to be persuaded, shamed, or frighted out of the
principles that have hitherto led so many of you to abhor the war, its
cause, and its consequences. Let us not be amongst the first who
renounce the maxims of our forefathers.

I have the honor to be,

Gentlemen,

Your most obedient and faithful humble servant,

EDMUND BURKE.

BEACONSFIELD, April 3, 1777.

P.S. You may communicate this letter in any manner you think proper to
my constituents.




TWO LETTERS

TO

GENTLEMEN IN THE CITY OF BRISTOL.

ON THE

BILLS DEPENDING IN PARLIAMENT RELATIVE TO THE TRADE OF IRELAND.

1778.




LETTERS.

TO SAMUEL SPAN, ESQ., MASTER OF THE SOCIETY OF MERCHANTS ADVENTURERS OF
BRISTOL.


Sir,--I am honored with your letter of the 13th, in answer to mine,
which accompanied the resolutions of the House relative to the trade of
Ireland.

You will be so good as to present my best respects to the Society, and
to assure them that it was altogether unnecessary to remind me of the
interest of the constituents. I have never regarded anything else since
I had a seat in Parliament. Having frequently and maturely considered
that interest, and stated it to myself in almost every point of view, I
am persuaded, that, under the present circumstances, I cannot more
effectually pursue it than by giving all the support in my power to the
propositions which I lately transmitted to the Hall.

The fault I find in the scheme is, that it falls extremely short of that
liberality in the commercial system which I trust will one day be
adopted. If I had not considered the present resolutions merely as
preparatory to better things, and as a means of showing, experimentally,
that justice to others is not always folly to ourselves, I should have
contented myself with receiving them in a cold and silent acquiescence.
Separately considered, they are matters of no very great importance. But
they aim, however imperfectly, at a right principle. I submit to the
restraint to appease prejudice; I accept the enlargement, so far as it
goes, as the result of reason and of sound policy.

We cannot be insensible of the calamities which have been brought upon
this nation by an obstinate adherence to narrow and restrictive plans of
government. I confess, I cannot prevail on myself to take them up
precisely at a time when the most decisive experience has taught the
rest of the world to lay them down. The propositions in question did not
originate from me, or from my particular friends. But when things are so
right in themselves, I hold it my duty not to inquire from what hands
they come. I opposed the American measures upon the very same principle
on which I support those that relate to Ireland. I was convinced that
the evils which have arisen from the adoption of the former would be
infinitely aggravated by the rejection of the latter.

Perhaps gentlemen are not yet fully aware of the situation of their
country, and what its exigencies absolutely require. I find that we are
still disposed to talk at our ease, and as if all things were to be
regulated by our good pleasure. I should consider it as a fatal symptom,
if, in our present distressed and adverse circumstances, we should
persist in the errors which are natural only to prosperity. One cannot,
indeed, sufficiently lament the continuance of that spirit of delusion,
by which, for a long time past, we have thought fit to measure our
necessities by our inclinations. Moderation, prudence, and equity are
far more suitable to our condition than loftiness, and confidence, and
rigor. We are threatened by enemies of no small magnitude, whom, if we
think fit, we may despise, as we have despised others; but they are
enemies who can only cease to be truly formidable by our entertaining a
due respect for their power. Our danger will not be lessened by our
shutting our eyes to it; nor will our force abroad be increased by
rendering ourselves feeble and divided at home.

There is a dreadful schism in the British nation. Since we are not able
to reunite the empire, it is our business to give all possible vigor and
soundness to those parts of it which are still content to be governed by
our councils. Sir, it is proper to inform you that our measures _must be
healing_. Such a degree of strength must be communicated to all the
members of the state as may enable them to defend themselves, and to
cooeperate in the defence of the whole. Their temper, too, must be
managed, and their good affections cultivated. They may then be disposed
to bear the load with cheerfulness, as a contribution towards what may
be called with truth and propriety, and not by an empty form of words,
_a common cause_. Too little dependence cannot be had, at this time of
day, on names and prejudices. The eyes of mankind are opened, and
communities must be held together by an evident and solid interest. God
forbid that our conduct should demonstrate to the world that Great
Britain can in no instance whatsoever be brought to a sense of rational
and equitable policy but by coercion and force of arms!

I wish you to recollect with what powers of concession, relatively to
commerce, as well as to legislation, his Majesty's commissioners to the
United Colonies have sailed from England within this week. Whether these
powers are sufficient for their purposes it is not now my business to
examine. But we all know that our resolutions in favor of Ireland are
trifling and insignificant, when compared with the concessions to the
Americans. At such a juncture, I would implore every man, who retains
the least spark of regard to the yet remaining honor and security of
this country, not to compel others to an imitation of their conduct, or
by passion and violence to force them to seek in the territories of the
separation that freedom and those advantages which they are not to look
for whilst they remain under the wings of their ancient government.

After all, what are the matters we dispute with so much warmth? Do we in
these resolutions _bestow_ anything upon Ireland? Not a shilling. We
only consent to _leave_ to them, in two or three instances, the use of
the natural faculties which God has given to them, and to all mankind.
Is Ireland united to the crown of Great Britain for no other purpose
than that we should counteract the bounty of Providence in her favor?
and in proportion as that bounty has been liberal, that we are to regard
it as an evil, which is to be met with in every sort of corrective? To
say that Ireland interferes with us, and therefore must be checked, is,
in my opinion, a very mistaken, and a very dangerous principle. I must
beg leave to repeat, what I took the liberty of suggesting to you in my
last letter, that Ireland is a country in the same climate and of the
same natural qualities and productions with this, and has consequently
no other means of growing wealthy in herself, or, in other words, of
being useful to us, but by doing the very same things which we do for
the same purposes. I hope that in Great Britain we shall always pursue,
without exception, _every_ means of prosperity, and, of course, that
Ireland _will_ interfere with us in something or other: for either, in
order to _limit_ her, we _must restrain_ ourselves, or we must fall into
that shocking conclusion, that we are to keep our yet remaining
dependency under a general and indiscriminate restraint for the mere
purpose of oppression. Indeed, Sir, England and Ireland may flourish
together. The world is large enough for us both. Let it be our care not
to make ourselves too little for it.

I know it is said, that the people of Ireland do not pay the same taxes,
and therefore ought not in equity to enjoy the same benefits with this.
I had hopes that the unhappy phantom of a compulsory _equal taxation_
had haunted us long enough. I do assure you, that, until it is entirely
banished from our imaginations, (where alone it has, or can have, any
existence,) we shall never cease to do ourselves the most substantial
injuries. To that argument of equal taxation I can only say, that
Ireland pays as many taxes as those who are the best judges of her
powers are of opinion she can bear. To bear more, she must have more
ability; and, in the order of Nature, the advantage must _precede_ the
charge. This disposition of things being the law of God, neither you nor
I _can_ alter it. So that, if you will have more help from Ireland, you
must _previously_ supply her with more means. I believe it will be
found, that, if men are suffered freely to cultivate their natural
advantages, a virtual equality of contribution will come in its own
time, and will flow by an easy descent through its own proper and
natural channels. An attempt to disturb that course, and to force
Nature, will only bring on universal discontent, distress, and
confusion.

You tell me, Sir, that you prefer an union with Ireland to the little
regulations which are proposed in Parliament. This union is a great
question of state, to which, when it comes properly before me in my
Parliamentary capacity, I shall give an honest and unprejudiced
consideration. However, it is a settled rule with me, to make the most
of my _actual situation_, and not to refuse to do a proper thing because
there is something else more proper which I am not able to do. This
union is a business of difficulty, and, on the principles of your
letter, a business impracticable. Until it can be matured into a
feasible and desirable scheme, I wish to have as close an union of
interest and affection with Ireland as I can have; and that, I am sure,
is a far better thing than any nominal union of government.

France, and indeed most extensive empires, which by various designs and
fortunes have grown into one great mass, contain many provinces that are
very different from each other in privileges and modes of government;
and they raise their supplies in different ways, in different
proportions, and under different authorities: yet none of them are for
this reason curtailed of their natural rights; but they carry on trade
and manufactures with perfect equality. In some way or other the true
balance is found; and all of them are properly poised and harmonized.
How much have you lost by the participation of Scotland in all your
commerce? The external trade of England has more than doubled since that
period; and I believe your internal (which is the most advantageous) has
been augmented at least fourfold. Such virtue there is in liberality of
sentiment, that you have grown richer even by the partnership of
poverty.

If you think that this participation was a loss, commercially
considered, but that it has been compensated by the share which Scotland
has taken in defraying the public charge, I believe you have not very
carefully looked at the public accounts. Ireland, Sir, pays a great deal
more than Scotland, and is perhaps as much and as effectually united to
England as Scotland is. But if Scotland, instead of paying little, had
paid nothing at all, we should be gainers, not losers, by acquiring the
hearty cooeperation of an active, intelligent people towards the increase
of the common stock, instead of our being employed in watching and
counteracting them, and their being employed in watching and
counteracting us, with the peevish and churlish jealousy of rivals and
enemies on both sides.

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