of the human mind, is almost tantamount, in the moral world, to the destruction of the apparently active properties of bodies in the material. It would be like the attempt to destroy (if it were in our com- petence to destroy) the expansive force of fixed air in nitre, or the power of steam, or of electricity, or of magnetism. These energies always existed in nature, and they were always discernible. They seemed, some of them unserviceable, some noxious, some no better than a sport to children; until con- templative ability, combining with practic skill, tamed their wild nature, subdued them to use, and rendered them at once the most powerful and the most tractable agents, in subservience to the great views and designs of men. Did fifty thousand persons, whose mental and whose bodily labour you might direct, and so many hundred thousand a-year of a revenue which was neither lazy nor supersti- tious, appear too big for your abilities to wield! Had you no way of using the men but by converting monks into pensioners? Had you no way of turn- ing the revenue to account, but through the impro- vident resource of a spendthrift sale? If you were thus destitute of mental funds, the proceeding is in its natural course. Your politicians do not understand their trade; and therefore they sell their tools. But the institutions savour of superstition in their very principle; and they nourish it by a permanent and standing influence. This I do not mean to dis- pute; but this ought not to hinder you from deriving from superstition itself any resources which may thence be furnished for the public advantage. You derive benefits from many dispositions and many REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 217 passions of the human mind, which are of as doubtful a colour in the moral eye, as superstition itself. It was your business to correct and mitigate every thing which was noxious in this passion, as in all the passions. But is superstition the greatest of all possi- ble vices? In its possible excess I think it becomes a very great evil.. It is, however, a moral subject, and of course admits of all degrees and all modifica- tions. Superstition is the religion of feeble minds; and they must be tolerated in an intermixture of it, in some trifling or some enthusiastic shape or other, else you will deprive weak minds of a resource found necessary to the strongest. The body of all true religion consists, to be sure, in obedience to the will of the Sovereign of the world; in a confidence in his declarations; and in imitation of his perfections. The rest is our own. It may be prejudicial to the great end; it may be auxiliary. Wise men who, as such, are not admirers, (not admirers at least of the Munera Terrcs,') are not violently attached to these things, nor do they violently hate them. Wisdom is not the most severe corrector of folly. They are the rival follies, which mutually wage so Unrelenting a war; and which make so cruel a use of their advantages, as they can happen to engage the immode- rate vulgar, on the one side or the other, in their quarrels. Prudence would be neuter; but if, in the contention between fond attachment and fierce antipathy concerning things in their nature not made to produce such heats, a prudent man were obliged to make a choice of what errors and excesses of enthusiasm be would condemn or bear, perhaps he would think the superstition which builds, to be more 2lX aEFLECTIONS ON THE tolerable than that which demolishes — that which adorns a country, than that winch deforms it — that which endows, than that which plunders — that which disposes to mistaken beneficence, than that which stimulates to real injustice — that which leads a man to refuse to himself lawful pleasures, than that which snatches from others the scanty subsistence of their self-denial. Such, 1 think, is very nearly the state of the question between the ancient founders of monkish superstition, and the superstition of the pretended philosophers of the hour.
Tor the present I postpone all consideration of the supposed public profit of the sale, which however I conceive to be perfectly delusive. I shall here only consider it as a transfer of property. On the policy of that transfer I shall trouble you with a few thoughts.
In every prosperous community something more is produced than goes to the immediate support of the producer. This surplus forms the income of the landed capitalist. It will be spent by a proprietor who does not labour. But this idleness is itself the spring of labour; this repose the spur to industry. The only concern of the state is, that the capital taken in rent from the land, should be returned again to the industry from whence it came; and that its expenditure should be with the least possible detriment to the morals of those who expend it, and to those of the people to whom it is returned.
In all the views of receipt, expenditure, and per- sonal employment, a sober legislator would carefully compare the possessor whom he was recommended to expel, with the stranger who was proposed to fill REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 219 his place. Before the inconveniences are incurred which must attend all violent revolutions in property through extensive confiscation, we ought to have some rational assurance that the purchasers of the confiscated property will be in a considerable degree more laborious, more virtuous, more sober, less disposed to extort an unreasonable proportion of the gains of the labourer, or to consume on them- selves a larger share than is fit for the measure of an individual; or that they should be qualified to dispense the surplus in a more steady and equal mode, so as to answer the purposes of a politic expenditure, than the old possessors, call those possessors bishops, or canons, or commendatory abbots, or monks, or what you please. The monks are lazy. Be it so. Suppose them no otherwise employed than by singing in the choir. They are as usefully employed as those who neither sing nor say. As usefully even as those who sing upon the stage. They are as usefully employed as if they worked from dawn to dark in the innumerable servile, degrading, unseemly, unmanly, and often most unwholesome and pestiferous occupations, to which by the social economy so many wretches are inevitably doomed. If it were not generally pernicious to disturb the natural course of things, and to impede, in any degree, the great wheel of circulation which is turned by the strangely-directed labour of these unhappy people, I should be infinitely more inclined forcibly to rescue them from their miserable industry, than violently to disturb the tranquil repose of monastic quietude. Humanity, and perhaps policy, might better justify me in the one than in the 220 Mil li lloss ON l Hi other. It is a subject on which I have often reflected, and never reflected without feeling from it. I am sure that no consideration, except the necessity of submitting to the yoke of luxury, and the despotism of fancy, who in their own imperious way will distribute the surplus product of the soil, can justify the toleration of such trades and employ- ments in a well-regulated state. But for this purpose of distribution, it seems to me that the idle expenses of monks are quite as well directed as the idle expenses of us lay-loiterers.
When the advantages of the possession and of the project are on a par, there is no motive for a change. But in the present case, perhaps they are not upon a par, and the difference is in favour of the possession. It docs not appear to me, that the expenses of those whom you are going to expel, do, in fact, take a course so directly and so generally leading to vitiate and degrade anil render miserable those through whom they pass, as the expenses of those favourites whom you are intruding into their houses. Why should the expenditure of a great landed property, which is a dispersion of the surplus product of the soil, appear intolerable to yTou or to me. when it takes its course through the accumulation of vast libraries, which are the history of the force and weakness of the human mind: through great collections of ancient records, medals, and coins, which attest and explain laws and customs; through paintings and statues, that, by imitating nature, seem to extend the limits of creation; through grand monuments of the dead, which continue the regards and connexions of lite beyond REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 221 the grave; through collections of the specimens of nature, which become a representative assembly of all the classes and families of the world, that by disposition facilitate, and, by exciting curiosity, open the avenues to science? If by great permanent establishments, all these objects of expense are better secured from the inconstant sport of personal caprice and personal extravagance, are they worse than if the same tastes prevailed in scattered in- dividuals? Does not the sweat of the mason and carpenter, who toil in order to partake the sweat of the peasant, flow as pleasantly and as salubriously, in the construction and repair of the majestic edifices of religion, as in the painted booths and sordid sties of vice and luxury; as honourably and as profitably in repairing those sacred works, which grow hoary with innumerable years, as on the momentary recep- tacles of transient voluptuousness; in opera-houses, and brothels, and gaming-houses, and club-houses, and obelisks in the Champ de Mars? Is the surplus product of the olive and the vine worse employed in the frugal sustenance of persons, whom the fictions of a pious imagination raise to dignity by construing in the service of God, than in pampering the innu- merable multitude of those who are degraded by being made useless domestics, subservient to the pride of man? Are the decorations of temples an expenditure less worthy a wise man, than ribbons, and laces, and national cockades, and petit maisons, and petit soupers, and all the innumerable fopperies and follies in which opulence sports away the burthen of its superfluity?
We tolerate even these; not from love of them, -■LJ. REFLECTIONS ON Till but for fear of worse. We tolerate them, because ^ property and liberty, to a degree, require that toleration. But why proscribe the other, and surely, in every point of view, the more laudable use of estates? Why, through the violation of all property, through an outrage upon every principle of liberty, forcibly carry them from the better to the worse?
This comparison between the new individuals and the old corps is made upon a supposition that no reform could be jnade in the latter. But in a question of reformation, I always consider corporate bodies, whether sole or consisting of many, to be much more susceptible of a public direction by the power of the state, in the use of their property, and in the regulation of modes and babits of life in their members, than private citizens ever can be, or perhaps ought to be: and this seems to me a very material consideration for those who undertake any thing which merits the name of a politic enterprise — So far as to the estates of monasteries.
With regard to the estates possessed by bishops and canons, and commendatory abbots, I cannot find out for what reason some landed estates may not be held otherwise than by inheritance. Can any philosophic spoiler undertake to demonstrate the positive or the comparative evil of having a certain, and that too a large portion of landed pro- perty, passing in succession through persons whose title to it is, always in theory, and often in fact, an eminent degree of piety, morals, and learning; a property which, by its destination, in their turn, and on the score of merit, gives to the noblest families renovation and support, to the lowest the REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 223 means of dignity and elevation; a property, the tenure of which is the performance of some duty, (whatever value you may choose to set upon that duty,) and the character of whose proprietors demands at least an exterior decorum and gravity of manners; who are to exercise a generous but temperate hos- pitality; part of whose income they are to consider as a trust for charity; and who, even when they fail in their trust, when they slide from their character, and degenerate into a mere common secular noble- man or gentleman, are in no respect worse than i those who may succeed them in their forfeited e| possessions? Is it better that estates should be held by those who have no duty, than by those who have one? — by those whose character and destination point to virtues, than by those who have no rule and direction in the expenditure of their estates but their own will and appetite? Nor are these estates held altogether in the character or with the evils supposed inherent in mortmain. They pass from hand to hand with a more rapid circulation than any other. No excess is good; and therefore too great a proportion of landed property may be held officially for life: but it does not seem to me of material injury to any commonwealth, that there should exist some estates that have a chance of being acquired by other means than the previous acquisition of money.
This letter is grown to a great length, though it is indeed short with regard to the infinite extent of the subject. Various avocations have from time to time called my mind from the subject. I was not sorry to give myself leisure to observe whether, in 224 REFLECTIONS ON THE the proceedings of the National Assembly, I might ' not find reasons to change or to qualify some of my first sentiments. Every thing has confirmed me more strongly in my first opinions. It was un- original purpose to take a view of the principles of the National Assembly with regard to the great and fundamental establishments; and to compare the whole of what you have substituted in the place of what you have destroyed, with the several mem- bers of our British constitution. But this plan is of greater extent than at first I computed, and I find that you have little desire to take the advantage of any examples. At present I must content myself with some remarks upon your establishments; re- serving for another time wbat I proposed to say concerning the spirit of our British monarchy, aris- tocracy, and democracy, as practically they exist.
I have taken a view of what has been done by the governing power in France. I have certainly spoke of it with freedom. Those whose principle it is to despise the ancient permanent sense of man- kind, and to set up a scheme of society on new- principles, must naturally expect that such of us who think better of the judgment of the human race than of theirs, should consider both them and their devices, as men and schemes upon their trial. They must take it for granted that we attend much to their reason, but not at all to their authority. They have not one of the great influencing pre- judices of mankind in their favour. They avow their hostility to opinion. Of course they must expect no support from that influence, which, with every other authority, they have deposed from the seal of its jurisdiction.
REVOLUTION IN FKANCE. 225 I can never consider this Assembly as any thing else than a voluntary association of men, who have availed themselves of circumstances to seize upon the power of the state. They have not the sanction and authority of the character under which they first met. They have assumed another of a very different nature; and have completely altered and inverted all the relations in which they originally stood. They do not hold the authority they exercise under any constitutional law of the state.. They have departed from the instructions of the people by whom they were sent; which instructions, as the Assembly did not act in virtue of any ancient usage or settled law, were the sole source of their authority. The most considerable of their acts have not been done by great majorities; and in this sort of near divisions, which carry only the constructive authority of the whole, strangers will consider reasons as well as resolutions.
If they had set up this new experimental govern- ment as a necessary substitute for an expelled tyran- ny, mankind would anticipate the time of prescription, which, through long usage, mellows into legality governments that were violent in their commence- ment. All those who have affections which lead them to the conservation of civil order would recog- nize, even in its cradle, the child as legitimate, which has been produced from those principles of cogent expediency to which all just governments owe their birth, and on which they justify their continuance. ■ But they will be late and reluctant in giving any sort lb of countenance to the operations of a power, which 4 has derived its birth from no law and no necessity; 226 REFLECTIONS ON THE but which on the contrary has had its origin in thos< vices and sinister practices by which the social unior is often disturbed and sometimes destroyed. Tin: Assembly has hardly a year's prescription. W< have their own word for it that they have made I revolution. To make a revolution is a measun which, prima fronte, requires an apology. To maki a revolution is to subvert the ancient state of ou country; and no common reasons are called for t< justify so violent a proceeding. The sense of man kind authorizes us to examine into the mode o acquiring new power, and to criticise on the us< that is made of it, with less awe and reverence thai that which is usually conceded to a settled and re cognized authority.
In obtaining and securing their power, the As sembly proceeds upon principles the most opposit to those which appear to direct them in the us of it. An observation on this difference will let u into the true spirit of their conduct. Every thiiij which they have done, or continue to do, in orde to obtain and keep their power, is by the most com mon arts. They proceed exactly as their ancestor of ambition have done before them. Trace thet: through all their artifices, frauds, and violences, yoi can find nothing at all that is new. They folkn precedents and examples with the punctilious exact ness of a pleader. They never depart an iota fror the authentic formulas of tyranny and usurpation But in all the regulations relative to the publi good, the spirit has been the very reverse of thli There they commit the whole to the mercy of un tried speculations; they abandon the dearest interest REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 227 >f the public to those loose theories to which none if them would choose to trust the slightest of his >rivate concerns. They make this difference, be- cause in their desire of obtaining and securing power hey are thoroughly in earnest; there they travel n the beaten road. The public interests, because ibout them they have no real solicitude, they ibandon wholly to chance: I say to chance, because heir schemes have nothing in experience to prove heir tendency beneficial.
We must always see with a pity not unmixed with espect, the errors of those who are timid and doubt- ul of themselves with regard to points wherein the lappiness of mankind is concerned. But in these gentlemen there is nothing of the tender parental olicitude which fears to cut up the infant for the sake of an experiment. In the vastness of their >romises, and the confidence of their predictions, hey far outdo all the boasting of empirics. The irrogance of their pretensions, in a manner provokes ind challenges us to an inquiry into their foundation.
I am convinced that there are men of considerable )arts among the popular leaders in the, National Assembly. Some of them display eloquence in heir speeches and their writings. This cannot be without powerful and cultivated talents. But elo- pjence may exist without a proportionable degree )f wisdom. When I speak of ability, I am obliged ;o distinguish. What they have done towards the support of their system bespeaks no ordinary men. [n the system itself, taken as the scheme of a re- public constructed for procuring the prosperity and ecurity of the citizen, and for promoting the strength 228 REFLECTIONS ON THE and grandeur of the state, I confess myself unable to find out any thing which displays, in a single instance, the work of a comprehensive and disposing mind, or even the provisions of a vulgar prudence. Their purpose every where seems to have been to evade and slip aside from difficulty. This it has been the glory of the great masters in all the arts to confront, and to overcome; and when they had overcome the first difficulty, to turn it into an in- strument for new conquests over new difficulties; thus to enable them' to extend the empire of their science; and even to push forward, beyond the reach of their original thoughts, the land-marks of the human understanding itself. Difficulty is a severe instructor, set over us by the supreme ordinance of a parental Guardian and Legislator, who knows us better than we know ourselves, as he loves us better too. Pater ipse colendi haud facilem esse viam voluit. He that wrestles with us strengthens (un- nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper. This amicable conflict with difficulty obliges us to an intimate acquaintance with our object, and compels us to consider it in all its relations. It will not suffer us to be superficial. It is the want of nerves of understanding for such a task; it is the degenerate fondness for tricking short-cuts, and little fallacious facilities, that lias in SO many parts of the world created governments with arbitrary powers. They have created the late-arbitrary monarchy of France. They have created the arbitrary republic of Paris. With them defects in wisdom are to be supplied by the plenitude of force. They get nothing by it. Commencing their labours on a REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 229 j principle of sloth, they have the common fortune of slothful men. The difficulties, which they rather 1 had eluded than escaped, meet them again in their 1 course; they multiply and thicken on them; they are involved, through a labyrinth of confused detail, in an industry without limit, and without direction; and, in conclusion, the whole of their work becomes feeble, vicious, and insecure.
It is this inability to wrestle with difficulty which has obliged the arbitrary Assembly of France to commence their schemes of reform with abolition and total destruction.* But is it in destroying and pulling down that skill is displayed? Your mob can do this as well at least as your assemblies. The shallowest understanding, the rudest hand, is more than equal to that task. Rage and frenzy will pull down more in half an hour, than prudence, delibera- tion, and foresight can build up in a hundred years. The errors and defects of old establishments are, visible and palpable. It calls for little ability to point them out; and where absolute power is given, it requires but a word wholly to abolish the vice and the establishment together. The same lazy but restless disposition, which loves sloth and hates * A leading member of the Assembly, M. Rabaucl tie St. Etienne, has expressed the principle of all their proceedings as clearly as pos- sible— nothing can be more simple: — " Tous les etablissemens en France couronnent le malhcur du peuple: pour le rendre heureux il faut le renouveler; changer ses idees; changer ses loix; changer ses mceurs; changer les homines; changer les choses; changer les mots tout detruire — oui, tout detruire; puisque tout est a recreer." This gentleman was chosen president in an assembly not sitting at Qitinze-vingt, or the Pe/its Maitont; and composed of persons giving themselves out to he rational beings; but neither his ideas, language, nor conduct, differ in the smallest degree from the discourses, opinions, and actions of those within and without the Assembly, who direct the operations of the machine now at work in France.
230 REFLECTIONS ON THE quiet, directs these politicians, when they come to work, for supplying the place of what they have destroyed. To make every thing the reverse of what they have seen is quite as easy as to destroy. No difficulties occur in what has never been tried. Criticism is almost baffled in discovering the defects of what has not existed; and eager enthusiasm, and cheating hope, have all the wide field of imagination in which they may expatiate with little or no opposition.