noble. To their prevalence and success the kingdom owes its liberty, perhaps its learning, its industry, commerce, and naval power. By them chiefly the English name is distinguished among the society of nations, and aspires to a rivalship with that of the freest and most illustrious commonwealths of antiquity. But as all these mighty consequences could not reasonably be foreseen at the time when the contest began, the royalists of that age wanted not specious arguments on their side, by which they could justify their defence of the then established prerogatives of the crown. We shall state the question, as it might appear to them at the assembling of that Parliament, which by their violent encroachments on the crown, began the civil wars.
The only rule of government, they might have said, known and acknowledged among men, is use and practice. Reason is so uncertain a guide that it will always be exposed to doubt and controversy.
Could it ever render itself prevalent over the people, men had always retained it as their sole rule of conduct; they had still continued in the primitive, unconnected state of nature, without submitting to political government, whose sole basis is not pure reason, but authority and precedent. Dissolve these ties, you break all the bonds of civil society, and leave every man at liberty to consult his particular interest, by those expedients which his appetite, disguised under the appearance of reason, shall dictate to him. The spirit of innovation is in itself pernicious, however favourable its particular object may sometimes appear. A truth so obvious that the popular party themselves are sensible of it, and therefore cover their encroachments on the crown by the plausible pretence of their recovering the ancient liberties of the people.
But the present prerogatives of the crown, allowing all the suppositions of that party, have been incontestably established ever since the accession of the house of Tudor, a period which, as it now comprehends a hundred and sixty years, may be allowed sufficient to give stability to any constitution. Would it not have appeared ridiculous in the reign of the Emperor Adrian to talk of the constitution of the republic as the rule of government, or to suppose that the former rights of the senate and consuls and tribunes were still subsisting?
But the present claims of the English monarchs are infinitely more favourable than those of the Roman emperors during that age. The authority of Augustus was a plain usurpation, grounded only on military violence, and forms such an era in the Roman history as is obvious to every reader. But if Henry VII. really, as some pretend, enlarged the power of the crown, it was only by insensible acquisitions which escaped the apprehension of the people, and have scarcely been remarked even by historians and politicians. The new government, if it deserves the name, is an imperceptible transition from the former; is entirely engrafted on it; derives its title fully from that root; and is to be considered only as one of those gradual revolutions to which human affairs in every nation will be for ever subject.
The House of Tudor, and after them that of Stuart, exercised no prerogatives, but what had been claimed and exercised by the Plantagenets. Not a single branch of their authority can be said to be altogether an innovation. The only difference is that perhaps the more ancient kings exerted these powers only by intervals, and were not able, by reason of the opposition of their barons, to render them so steady a rule of administration.[109] But the sole inference from this fact is that those times were more turbulent and seditious, and that the laws have happily of late gained the ascendant.
Under what pretence can the popular party now talk of recovering the ancient constitution? The former control over the kings was not placed in the commons, but in the barons. The people had no authority, and even little or no liberty, till the crown, by suppressing these factious tyrants, enforced the execution of the laws, and obliged all the subjects equally to respect each other’s rights, privileges, and properties. If we must return to the ancient barbarous and Gothic constitution, let those gentlemen, who now behave themselves with so much insolence to their sovereign, set the first example. Let them make court to be admitted as retainers to a neighbouring baron, and by submitting to slavery under him, acquire some protection to themselves, together with the power of exercising rapine and oppression over their inferior slaves and villains. This was the condition of the commons among their remote ancestors.
But how far back shall we go, in having recourse to ancient constitutions and governments? There was a constitution still more ancient than that to which these innovators affect so much to appeal.
During that period there was no Magna Charta. The barons themselves possessed few regular, stated privileges, and the House of Commons probably had not an existence.
It is pleasant to hear a house, while they are usurping the whole power of the government, talk of reviving ancient institutions. Is it not known that, though the representatives received wages from their constituents, to be a member of their house was always considered as a burden, and a freedom from it as a privilege? Will they persuade us that power, which of all human acquisitions is the most coveted, and in comparison of which even reputation and pleasure and riches are slighted, could ever be regarded as a burden by any man?
The property acquired of late by the commons, it is said, entitles them to more power than their ancestors enjoyed. But to what is this increase of their property owing, but to an increase of their liberty and their security? Let them therefore acknowledge that their ancestors, while the crown was restrained by the seditious barons, really enjoyed less liberty than they themselves have attained, after the sovereign acquired the ascendant, and let them enjoy that liberty with moderation, and not forfeit it by new exorbitant claims, and by rendering it a pretence for endless innovations.
The true rule of government is the present established practice of the age. That has most authority, because it is recent. It is also better known for the same reason. Who has assured those tribunes that the Plantagenets did not exercise as high acts of authority as the Tudors?
The historians, they say, do not mention them; but the historians are also silent with regard to the chief exertions of prerogative by the Tudors. Where any power or prerogative is fully and undoubtedly established, the exercise of it passes for a thing of course, and readily escapes the notice of history and annals. Had we no other monuments of Elizabeth’s reign than what are preserved even by Camden, the most copious, judicious, and exact of our historians, we should be entirely ignorant of the most important maxims of her government.
Was not the present monarchical government to its full extent authorized by lawyers, recommended by divines, acknowledged by politicians, acquiesced in—nay, passionately cherished—by the people in general; and all this during a period of at least a hundred and sixty years, and till of late, without the least murmur or controversy? This general consent surely, during so long a time, must be sufficient to render a constitution legal and valid. If the origin of all power be derived, as is pretended, from the people, here is their consent in the fullest and most ample terms that can be desired or imagined.
But the people must not pretend, because they can, by their consent, lay the foundations of government, that therefore they are to be permitted, at their pleasure, to overthrow and subvert them. There is no end of these seditious and arrogant claims. The power of the crown is now openly struck at; the nobility are also in visible peril; the gentry will soon follow; the popular leaders, who will then assume the name of gentry, will next be exposed to danger; and the people themselves, having become incapable of civil government, and lying under the restraint of no authority, must, for the sake of peace, admit, instead of their legal and mild monarchs, a succession of military and despotic tyrants.
These consequences are the more to be dreaded, as the present fury of the people, though glossed over by pretensions to civil liberty, is in reality incited by the fanaticism of religion, a principle the most blind, headstrong, and ungovernable by which human nature can ever possibly be actuated. Popular rage is dreadful, from whatever motive derived, but must be attended with the most pernicious consequences when it arises from a principle which disclaims all control by human law, reason, or authority.
These are the arguments which each party may make use of to justify the conduct of their predecessors during that great crisis. The event has shown that the reasonings of the popular party were better founded; but perhaps, according to the established maxims of lawyers and politicians, the views of the royalists ought beforehand to have appeared more solid, more safe, and more legal. But this is certain, that the greater moderation we now employ in representing past events, the nearer we shall be to produce a full coalition of the parties and an entire acquiescence in our present happy establishment. Moderation is of advantage to every establishment; nothing but zeal can overturn a settled power, and an over-active zeal in friends is apt to beget a like spirit in antagonists. The transition from a moderate opposition against an establishment to an entire acquiescence in it is easy and insensible.
There are many invincible arguments which should induce the malcontent party to acquiesce entirely in the present settlement of the constitution. They now find that the spirit of civil liberty, though at first connected with religious fanaticism, could purge itself from that pollution, and appear under a more genuine and engaging aspect—a friend to toleration, and an encourager of all the enlarged and generous sentiments that do honour to human nature. They may observe that the popular claims could stop at a proper period, and after retrenching the exorbitant prerogatives of the crown, could still maintain a due respect to monarchy, to nobility, and to all ancient institutions. Above all, they must be sensible that the very principle which made the strength of their party, and from which it derived its chief authority, has now deserted them and gone over to their antagonists. The plan of liberty is settled, its happy effects are proved by experience, a long tract of time has given it stability, and whoever would attempt to overturn it, and to recall the past government or abdicated family, would, besides other more criminal imputations, be exposed in their turn to the reproach of faction and innovation.
While they peruse the history of past events, they ought to reflect, both that the rights of the crown are long since annihilated, and that the tyranny and violence and oppression to which they often gave rise are ills from which the established liberty of the constitution has now at last happily protected the people. These reflections will prove a better security to our freedom and privileges than to deny, contrary to the clearest evidence of facts, that such regal powers ever had any existence. There is not a more effectual method of betraying a cause than to lay the strength of the argument on a wrong place, and by disputing an untenable post inure the adversaries to success and victory.
NOTE, OF THE COALITION OF PARTIES.
[109] The author believes that he was the first writer who advanced that the family of Tudor possessed in general more authority than their immediate predecessors—an opinion which, he hopes, will be supported by history, but which he proposes with some diffidence. There are strong symptoms of arbitrary power in some former reigns, even after signing of the charters. The power of the crown in that age depended less on the constitution than on the capacity and vigour of the prince who wore it.
OF THE PROTESTANT SUCCESSION.
I suppose that a member of Parliament in the reign of King William or Queen Anne, while the establishment of the Protestant Succession was yet uncertain, were deliberating concerning the party he would choose in that important question, and weighing with impartiality the advantages and disadvantages on each side. I believe the following particulars would have entered into his consideration.
He would easily perceive the great advantages resulting from the restoration of the Stuart family, by which we should preserve the succession clear and undisputed, free from a pretender, with such a specious title as that of blood, which with the multitude is always the claim the strongest and most easily comprehended. It is in vain to say, as many have done, that the question with regard to governors, independent of government, is frivolous and little worth disputing, much less fighting about. The generality of mankind never will enter into these sentiments; and it is much happier, I believe, for society that they do not, but rather continue in their natural prejudices and prepossessions. How could stability be preserved in any monarchical government (which, though perhaps not the best, is, and always has been, the most common of any) unless men had so passionate a regard for the true heir of their royal family, and even though he be weak in understanding, or infirm in years, gave him so great a preference above persons the most accomplished in shining talents or celebrated for great achievements? Would not every popular leader put in his claim at every vacancy, or even without any vacancy, and the kingdom become the theatre of perpetual wars and convulsions? The condition of the Roman Empire surely was not in this respect much to be envied, nor is that of the Eastern nations, who pay little regard to the title of their sovereigns, but sacrifice them every day to the caprice or momentary humour of the populace or soldiery. It is but a foolish wisdom which is so carefully displayed in under-valuing princes and placing them on a level with the meanest of mankind. To be sure, an anatomist finds no more in the greatest monarch than in the lowest peasant or day-labourer, and a moralist may perhaps frequently find less. But what do all these reflections tend to? We all of us still retain these prejudices in favour of birth and family, and neither in our serious occupations nor most careless amusements can we ever get entirely rid of them. A tragedy that should represent the adventures of sailors or porters, or even of private gentlemen, would presently disgust us; but one that introduces kings and princes acquires in our eyes an air of importance and dignity. Or should a man be able, by his superior wisdom, to get entirely above such prepossessions, he would soon, by means of the same wisdom, again bring himself down to them for the sake of society, whose welfare he would perceive to be intimately connected with them. Far from endeavouring to undeceive the people in this particular, he would cherish such sentiments of reverence to their princes as requisite to preserve a due subordination in society. And though the lives of twenty thousand men be often sacrificed to maintain a king in possession of his throne, or preserve the right of succession undisturbed, he entertains no indignation at the loss on pretence that every individual was perhaps in himself as valuable as the prince he served. He considers the consequences of violating the hereditary right of kings—consequences which may be felt for many centuries; while the loss of several thousand men brings so little prejudice to a large kingdom that it may not be perceived a few years afterwards.
The advantages of the Hanover succession are of an opposite nature, and arise from this very circumstance, that it violates hereditary right, and places on the throne a prince to whom birth gave no title to that dignity. It is evident to any one who considers the history of this island that the privileges of the people have during the last two centuries been continually upon the increase, by the division of the church-lands, by the alienations of the barons’ estates, by the progress of trade, and above all by the happiness of our situation, which for a long time gave us sufficient security without any standing army or military establishment. On the contrary, public liberty has, almost in every other nation of Europe, been during the same period extremely upon the decline, while the people were disgusted at the hardships of the old feudal militia, and chose rather to entrust their prince with mercenary armies, which he easily turned against themselves. It was nothing extraordinary, therefore, that some of our British sovereigns mistook the nature of the constitution and genius of the people; and as they embraced all the favourable precedents left them by their ancestors, they overlooked all those which were contrary, and which supposed a limitation in our government. They were encouraged in this mistake by the example of all the neighbouring princes, who, bearing the same title or appellation, and being adorned with the same ensigns of authority, naturally led them to claim the same powers and prerogatives.[110] The flattery of courtiers further blinded them, and above all that of the clergy, who from several passages of Scripture, and these wrested too, had erected a regular and avowed system of tyranny and despotic power.
The only method of destroying at once all these exorbitant claims and pretensions was to depart from the true hereditary line, and choose a prince who, being plainly a creature of the public, and receiving the crown on conditions, expressed and avowed, found his authority established on the same bottom with the privileges of the people.
By electing him in the royal line we cut off all hopes of ambitious subjects who might in future emergencies disturb the government by their cabals and pretensions; by rendering the crown hereditary in his family we avoided all the inconveniences of elective monarchy; and by excluding the lineal heir we secured all our constitutional limitations, and rendered our government uniform and of a piece. The people cherish monarchy because protected by it, the monarch favours liberty because created by it. And thus every advantage is obtained by the new establishment, as far as human skill and wisdom can extend itself.
These are the separate advantages of fixing the succession, either in the house of Stuart or in that of Hanover. There are also disadvantages on each establishment, which an impartial patriot would ponder and examine, in order to form a just judgment upon the whole.
The disadvantages of the Protestant Succession consist in the foreign dominions which are possessed by the princes of the Hanover line, and which it might be supposed would engage us in the intrigues and wars of the Continent, and lose us in some measure the inestimable advantage we possess of being surrounded and guarded by the sea which we command.
The disadvantages of recalling the abdicated family consist chiefly in their religion, which is more prejudicial to society than that established among us is contrary to it, and affords no toleration, or peace, or security to any other religion.
It appears to me that all these advantages and disadvantages are allowed on both sides; at least, by every one who is at all susceptible of argument or reasoning. No subject, however loyal, pretends to deny that the disputed title and foreign dominions of the present royal family are a loss; nor is there any partisan of the Stuart family but will confess that the claim of hereditary, indefeasible right, and the Roman Catholic religion, are also disadvantages in that family. It belongs, therefore, to a philosopher alone, who is of neither party, to put all these circumstances in the scale and to assign to each of them its proper poise and influence. Such a one will readily, at first, acknowledge that all political questions are infinitely complicated, and that there scarce ever occurs in any deliberation a choice which is either purely good or purely ill. Consequences, mixed and varied, may be foreseen to flow from every measure—and many consequences unforeseen do always, in fact, result from it. Hesitation, and reserve, and suspense are therefore the only sentiment he brings to this essay or trial; or if he indulges any passion it is that of derision and ridicule against the ignorant multitude, who are always clamorous and dogmatical even in the nicest questions, of which, from want of temper, perhaps still more than of understanding, they are altogether unfit judges.
But to say something more determinate on this head, the following reflections will, I hope, show the temper, if not the understanding of a philosopher.
Were we to judge merely by first appearances and by past experience, we must allow that the advantages of a parliamentary title of the house of Hanover are much greater than those of an undisputed hereditary title in the house of Stuart, and that our fathers acted wisely in preferring the former to the latter. So long as the house of Stuart reigned in Britain, which, with some interruption, was above eighty years, the government was kept in a continual fever by the contentions between the privileges of the people and the prerogatives of the crown. If arms were dropped, the noise of disputes continued; or, if these were silenced, jealousy still corroded the heart, and threw the nation into an unnatural ferment and disorder. And while we were thus occupied in domestic contentions, a foreign power, dangerous, if not fatal, to public liberty, erected itself in Europe without any opposition from us, and even sometimes with our assistance.
But during these last sixty years, when a parliamentary establishment has taken place, whatever factions may have prevailed either among the people or in public assemblies, the whole force of our constitution has always fallen to one side, and an uninterrupted harmony has been preserved between our princes and our parliaments. Public liberty, with internal peace and order, has flourished almost without interruption; trade and manufactures and agriculture have increased; the arts and sciences and philosophy have been cultivated. Even religious parties have been necessitated to lay aside their mutual rancour, and the glory of the nation has spread itself all over Europe; while we stand the bulwark against oppression, and the great antagonist of that power which threatens every people with conquest and subjection. So long and so glorious a period no nation almost can boast of; nor is there another instance in the whole history of mankind that so many millions of people have during such a space of time been held together in a manner so free, so rational, and so suitable to the dignity of human nature.
But though this recent instance seems clearly to decide in favour of the present establishment, there are some circumstances to be thrown into the other scale, and it is dangerous to regulate our judgment by one event or example.
We have had two rebellions during the flourishing period above mentioned, besides plots and conspiracies without number; and, if none of these have produced any very fatal event, we may ascribe our escape chiefly to the narrow genius of those princes who disputed our establishment, and may esteem ourselves so far fortunate. But the claims of the banished family, I fear, are not yet antiquated, and who can foretell that their future attempts will produce no greater disorder?
The disputes between privilege and prerogative may easily be composed by laws, and votes, and conferences, and concessions, where there is tolerable temper or prudence on both sides, or on either side. Among contending titles the question can only be determined by the sword, and by devastation, and by civil war.
A prince who fills the throne with a disputed title dares not arm his subjects, the only method of securing a people fully, both against domestic oppression and foreign conquest.
Notwithstanding all our riches and renown, what a critical escape did we lately make from dangers, which were owing, not so much to bad conduct and ill success in war, as to the pernicious practice of mortgaging our finances, and the still more pernicious maxim of never paying off our encumbrances? Such fatal measures could never have been embraced had it not been to secure a precarious establishment.[111] But to convince us that an hereditary title is to be embraced rather than a parliamentary one, which is not supported by any other views or motives, a man needs only transport himself back to the era of the Restoration, and suppose that he had had a seat in that Parliament which recalled the royal family, and put a period to the greatest disorders that ever arose from the opposite pretensions of prince and people. What would have been thought of one that had proposed at that time to set aside Charles II. and settle the crown on the Duke of York or Gloucester, merely in order to exclude all high claims like those of their father and grandfather? Would not such a one have been regarded as a very extravagant projector, who loved dangerous remedies, and could tamper and play with a government and national constitution like a quack with a sickly patient?
The advantages which result from a parliamentary title, preferably to an hereditary one, though they are great, are too refined ever to enter into the conception of the vulgar. The bulk of mankind would never allow them to be sufficient for committing what would be regarded as an injustice to the prince. They must be supported by some gross, popular, and familiar topics; and wise men, though convinced of their force, would reject them in compliance with the weakness and prejudices of the people. An encroaching tyrant or deluded bigot alone, by his misconduct, is able to enrage the nation and render practicable what was always perhaps desirable.
In reality, the reason assigned by the nation for excluding the race of Stuart, and so many other branches of the royal family, is not on account of their hereditary title (which, however just in itself, would, to vulgar apprehensions, have appeared altogether absurd), but on account of their religion, which leads us to compare the disadvantages above mentioned of each establishment.
I confess that, considering the matter in general, it were much to be wished that our prince had no foreign dominions, and could confine all his attention to the government of this island. For, not to mention some real inconveniences that may result from territories on the Continent, they afford such a handle for calumny and defamation as is greedily seized by the people, who are always disposed to think ill of their superiors. It must, however, be acknowledged that Hanover is perhaps the spot of ground in Europe the least inconvenient for a King of Britain. It lies in the heart of Germany, at a distance from the Great Powers which are our natural rivals; it is protected by the laws of the Empire as well as by the arms of its own sovereign, and it serves only to connect us more closely with the house of Austria, which is our natural ally.
In the last war it has been of service to us, by furnishing us with a considerable body of auxiliary troops, the bravest and most faithful in the world. The Elector of Hanover is the only considerable prince in the Empire who has pursued no separate end, and has raised up no stale pretensions during the late commotions of Europe, but has acted all along with the dignity of a King of Britain. And ever since the accession of that family it would be difficult to show any harm we have ever received from the electoral dominions, except that short disgust in 1718, with Charles XII., who, regulating himself by maxims very different from those of other princes, made a personal quarrel of every public injury.[112] The religious persuasion of the house of Stuart is an inconvenience of a much deeper dye, and would threaten us with much more dismal consequences. The Roman Catholic religion, with its huge train of priests and friars, is vastly more expensive than ours. Even though unaccompanied with its natural attendants of inquisitors, and stakes, and gibbets, it is less tolerating; and not contented with dividing the sacerdotal from the regal office (which must be prejudicial to any state), it bestows the former on a foreigner, who has always a separate, and may often have an opposite interest to that of the public.
But were this religion ever so advantageous to society, it is contrary to that which is established among us, and which is likely to keep possession for a long time of the minds of the people; and though it is much to be hoped that the progress of reason and philosophy will, by degrees, abate the virulent acrimony of opposite religions all over Europe, yet the spirit of moderation has as yet made too slow advances to be entirely trusted. The conduct of the Saxon family, where the same person can be a Catholic King and Protestant Elector, is perhaps the first instance in modern times of so reasonable and prudent a behaviour. And the gradual progress of the Catholic superstition does, even there, prognosticate a speedy alteration; after which it is justly to be apprehended that the persecutions will put a speedy period to the Protestant religion in the place of its nativity.
Thus, upon the whole, the advantages of the settlement in the family of Stuart, which frees us from a disputed title, seem to bear some proportion with those of the settlement in the family of Hanover, which frees us from the claims of prerogative; but at the same time its disadvantages, by placing on the throne a Roman Catholic, are much greater than those of the other establishment, in settling the crown on a foreign prince. What party an impartial patriot, in the reign of King William or Queen Anne, would have chosen amidst these opposite views may perhaps to some appear hard to determine. For my part, I esteem liberty so invaluable a blessing in society, that whatever favours its progress and security can scarce be too fondly cherished by every one who is a lover of humankind.
But the settlement in the house of Hanover has actually taken place.
The princes of that family, without intrigue, without cabal, without solicitation on their part, have been called to mount our throne by the united voice of the whole legislative body. They have, since their accession, displayed in all their actions the utmost mildness, equity, and regard to the laws and constitution. Our own ministers, our own parliaments, ourselves have governed us, and if aught ill has befallen us we can only blame fortune or ourselves. What a reproach must we become among nations if, disgusted with a settlement so deliberately made, and whose conditions have been so religiously observed, we should throw everything again into confusion, and by our levity and rebellious disposition prove ourselves totally unfit for any state but that of absolute slavery and subjection?
The greatest inconvenience attending a disputed title is that it brings us in danger of civil wars and rebellions. What wise man, to avoid this inconvenience, would run directly upon a civil war and rebellion? Not to mention that so long possession, secured by so many laws, must ere this time, in the apprehension of a great part of the nation, have begot a title in the house of Hanover independent of their present possession, so that now we should not, even by a revolution, obtain the end of avoiding a disputed title.
No revolution made by national forces will ever be able, without some other great necessity, to abolish our debts and encumbrances, in which the interest of so many persons is concerned. And a revolution made by foreign forces is a conquest—a calamity with which the precarious balance of power threatens us, and which our civil dissensions are likely, above all other circumstances, to bring upon us.
NOTES, OF THE PROTESTANT SUCCESSION.
[110] It appears from the speeches and proclamations and whole train of King James I.’s actions, as well as his son’s, that they considered the English government as a simple monarchy, and never imagined that any considerable part of their subjects entertained a contrary idea.
This made them discover their pretensions without preparing any force to support them, and even without reserve or disguise, which are always employed by those who enter upon any new project, or endeavour to innovate in any government. King James told his Parliament plainly, when they meddled in State affairs, “Ne sutor ultra crepidam.” He used also at his table, in promiscuous companies, to advance his notions in a manner still more undignified, as we may learn from a story told in the life of Mr. Waller, and which that poet used frequently to repeat.
When Mr. Waller was young, he had the curiosity to go to court; and he stood in the circle and saw King James dine where, amongst other company, there sat at table two bishops. The King, openly and aloud, proposed this question: “Whether he might not take his subjects’ money, when he had occasion for it, without all this formality of Parliament?”
The one bishop readily replied, “God forbid you should not, for you are the breath of our nostrils.” The other bishop declined answering, and said he was not skilled in Parliamentary cases; but upon the King’s urging him, and saying he would admit of no evasion, his lordship replied very pleasantly, “Why, then, I think your Majesty may lawfully take my brother’s money, for he offers it.” In Sir Walter Raleigh’s preface to the _History of the World_ there is this remarkable passage: “Philip II., by strong hand and main force, attempted to make himself not only an absolute monarch over the Netherlands, like unto the kings and sovereigns of England and France, but, Turk-like, to tread under his feet all their natural and fundamental laws, privileges and ancient rights.” Spenser, speaking of some grants of the English kings to the Irish corporations, says: “All which, though at the time of their first grant they were tolerable, and perhaps reasonable, yet now are most unreasonable and inconvenient. But all these will easily be cut off with the superior power of her Majesty’s prerogative, against which her own grants are not to be pleaded or enforced.” (_State of Ireland_, p.
1537, edit. 1706.)
As these were very common, if not perhaps the universal notions of the times, the two first princes of the house of Stuart were the more excusable for their mistake. And Rapin, suitable to his usual malignity and partiality, seems to treat them with too much severity upon account of it.
[111] Those who consider how universal this pernicious practice of funding has become all over Europe may perhaps dispute this last opinion, but we lay under less necessity than other States.
[112] This was published in the year 1752.
IDEA OF A PERFECT COMMONWEALTH.
Of all mankind there are none so pernicious as political projectors, if