Lfornia 
 
 mal 
 
 Lty
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 AT LO
 
 THE 
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN; 
 
 BEING 
 
 AN ANSWER 
 
 •to 
 
 MR. BURKE'S ATTACK 
 
 ON THE 
 
 tfxtnify ftebolutton* 
 
 By THOMAS PAINE, 
 
 SECRETARY TOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS TO CONGRESS IN THE 
 AMERICAN WAR j 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE WORKS ENTITLED ** COMMON SENSE," " THE 
 CRISIS," " A LETTER TO THE ABBE RAYNAL," SfC 
 
 9G82 & : 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED & PUBLISHED BY W. T. SHERWIN, 1 83, FLEET STREET, 
 
 4NP »QU> BY ALL B00KSEH.KE8 
 
 1817. . '
 
 1/ 
 
 JC • 
 
 'Ur? 
 
 TO 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
 
 >- 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF 
 5 AMERICA. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I present you a small treatise in defence 
 
 of those principles of freedom which your exem- 
 
 S plary virtue hath so eminently contributed to esta- 
 
 g blish. That the Rights of Man may become as 
 
 : universal as your benevolence can wish, and that 
 
 you may enjoy the happiness of seeing the New 
 
 World regenerate the Old, is the prayer of 
 
 Sir, 
 Your much obliged, 
 
 And obedient humble Servant, 
 THOMAS PAINE. 
 
 C3 
 
 c 
 
 31J0959
 
 
 
 •
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 From the part Mr. Burke took in the American Revolu- 
 tion, it was natural that I should consider him a friend to 
 Mankind ; and as our acquaintance commenced on that 
 ground, it would have been more agreeable to me, to have 
 bad cause to continue in that opinion, than to change it. 
 
 At the time Mr. Burke made his violent speech last win- 
 ter in the English Parliament, against the French Revolu- 
 tion and the National Assembly, I was in Paris, and had 
 written to him, but a short time before, to inform him how 
 prosperously matters were going on. Soon after this, I saw 
 bis advertisement of the pamphlet he intended to publish. 
 As the attack was to ne made in a language but little stu- 
 died, and less understood in France; and as every thing 
 suffers by translation ; I promised some of the Friends of 
 the Revolution in that country, that whenever Mr. Burke's 
 Pamphlet came forth, I would answer it. This appeared to 
 me the more necessary to be done, when I saw the flagrant 
 misrepresentations which Mr. Burke's Pamphlet contains ; 
 and that, while it is an outrageous abuse on the French Re- 
 volution, and the principles of Liberty, it is an imposition on 
 the rest of the world. 
 
 I am the more astonished, and disappointed, at this con- 
 duct in Mr. Burke, as, from the circumstance I am going 
 to mention, I had formed other expectations. 
 
 I had seen enough of the miseries of war, to wish it
 
 Tl PREFACE. 
 
 might never more have existence iu the world ; and that 
 some other mode might be found out, to settle the differ- 
 ences that should occasionally arise in the neighbourhood of 
 Nations. This certainly might be done, if Courts were dis- 
 posed to set honestly about it; or if Countries were enligh- 
 tened enough not to become the dupes of Courts. The peo- 
 ple of America had been bred up in the same prejudices 
 against France, which at that time characterised the people 
 of England ; but experience, and an acquaintance with the 
 French Nation, have most effectually shewn to the Ameri- 
 cans, the falsehood of those prejudices ; and I do not believe 
 that a more cordial and confidential intercourse exists be- 
 tween any two countries than between America and France. 
 
 When I came to France, in the Spring of 1787, the Arch- 
 bishop of Thoulouse was then minister, and at that time 
 highly esteemed. I became much acquainted with the pri- 
 vate secretary of the minister, a man of an enlarged, benevo- 
 lent heart; and found that his sentiments and my own per- 
 fectly agreed with respect to the madness of war, and the 
 wretched impolicy of two Nations?, like England and France, 
 continually worrying each other, to no other end than that 
 of a mutual increase of burdens and taxes. That I might 
 be assured I had not misunderstood him, nor he me, I put 
 the substance of our opinions into writing, and sent it to him ; 
 subjoining a request, that if I should see among the people 
 of England any disposition to cultivate a better understand- 
 ing between the two Nations than had hitherto prevailed, 
 how far I might be authorised to say, that the same dispo- 
 sition prevailed on the part of France? He answered me by 
 letter, in the most unreserved manner, and that not for him- 
 self only, but for the minister, with whose knowledge the 
 letter was declared to be written. 
 
 I put this letter into the hands of Mr. Burke, almost three 
 years ago ; and left it with him, where it still remains ;
 
 PREFACE. Tli 
 
 hoping, and at the same time expecting, from the opinion 
 I had conceived of him, that he would find some opportu- 
 nity of making a good use of it, for the purpose of removing 
 those errors and prejudices, which two neighbouring na- 
 tions, from the want of knowing each other, had entertained, 
 to the injury of both. 
 
 When the French Revolution broke out,* it certainly af- 
 forded to Mr. Burke an opportunity of doing some good, 
 had he been disposed to it: instead of which, no sooner 
 did he see the old prejudices wearing away, than he imme- 
 diately began sowing the seeds of a new inveteracy, as if he 
 were afraid that England and France would cease to be 
 enemies. That there are men, in all countries, who get 
 their living by war, and by keeping up the quarrels of Na- 
 tions, is as shocking as it is true; but when those who are 
 concerned in the government of a country, make it their 
 study to sow discord, and cultivate prejudices between Na- 
 tions, it becomes the more unpardonable. 
 
 With respect to a paragraph in this work, alluding to Mr. 
 Burke's having a pension, the report has been some time in 
 circulation, at least two months; and as a person is often 
 the last to hear what concerns him the most to know, I have 
 mentioned it that Mr. Burke may have an opportunity of 
 contradicting it if he thinks proper. 
 
 Thomas Paine. 
 London. 1791.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN, 
 
 Among the incivilities by which Nations or individuals 
 provoke and irritate each other, Mr. Burke's pamphlet on 
 the French Revolution is an extraordinary instance. Nei- 
 ther the people of France, nor the National Assembly, were 
 troubling themselves about the affairs of England, or the 
 English Parliament ; and why Mr. Burke should commence 
 nn unprovoked attack upon them, both in parliament and in 
 public, is a conduct that cannot be pardoned on the score 
 of manners, nor justified on that of policy. 
 
 There is scarcely an epithet of abuse to be found in the 
 English language, with which Mr, Burke has not loaded the 
 French Nation, and the National Assembly. Every thing 
 which rancour, prejudice, ignorance, or knowledge, could 
 suggest, is poured forth in the copious fury of near four 
 hundred pages. In the strain and on the plan Mr. Burke 
 was writing, he might have written on to as many thousands. 
 When the tongue or the pen is let loose in a frenzy of pas- 
 •ion, it is the man, and not the subject, that becomes ex- 
 hausted. 
 
 Hitherto Mr. Burke has been mistaken and disappointed 
 in the opinions he had formed of the affairs of France ; but 
 such is the ingenuity of his hope, or the malignancy of his 
 despair, that it furnishes him with new pretences to go on. 
 There was a time when it was impossible to make Mr. Burke 
 believe there would be any revolution in France. His opi- 
 nion then was, that the French had neither spirit to under- 
 take it, nor fortitude to support it; and now that there is 
 one, he seeks an escape, by condemning "it. 
 
 Not sufficiently content with abusing the National As- 
 sembly, a great part of his work is taken up with abusing 
 Dr. Price (one of the best hearted men that lives), and the 
 two societies in England, known by the name of the Revo- 
 lution Society, and the Society for Constitutional Infor- 
 mation. 
 
 Dr. Price had preached a sermon on the 4th of November, 
 1789, being the anniversary of what is called in England,
 
 RIGHTS OF B1AN. 
 
 the Revolution which took place 1688. Mr. Burke, speak- 
 ing of this sermon, says, " The Political Divine proceeds 
 dogmatically to assert, that by the principles of the Revolu- 
 tion, the people of England have acquired three fundamental 
 
 rights: J 
 M. 
 
 f 
 
 To choose our own governors. 
 2. To ca bier them for misconduct. 
 To frame a government for ourselves." 
 
 Dr. Price does not say that the right to do these things 
 exists in this or in that person, or in this or in that descrip- 
 tion of persons, but that it exists in the tehoh ; that it is a 
 right resident in the Nation.— Mr. BuTke, on the contrary, 
 denies that such a right exists in the Nation, either in whole 
 or in part, or that it exists any where: and, what is still 
 more strange and marvellous, he says, " that the people of 
 England utterly disclaim such right, and that they will 
 resist the practical assertion of it with their lives and fortunes." 
 That men should take up arms, and spend their lives and 
 fortunes, not to maintain their rights, but to maintain they 
 have not rights, is an entire new species of discovery, and 
 suited to the paradoxical genius of Mr. Burke. 
 
 The method which Mr. Burke takes to prove that the 
 people of England have no such rights, and that such 
 rights do not now exist in the Nation, either in whole or in 
 part, or any where at all, is of the same marvellous and 
 monstrous kind with what he has already said; for his argu- 
 ments are, that the persons, or the generation of persons, in 
 whom they did exist, are dead, and with them the right is 
 dead also. To prove this, he quotes a declaration made by 
 parliament about a hundred years ago, to William and Mary, 
 in these words:-—" The Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and 
 Commons, do, in the name of the people aforesaid," (mean- 
 ing the people of England, then living,) " most humbly and 
 faithfully submit themselves, their heirs and po$terilies, for 
 
 EVER.'* 
 
 He also quotes a clause of another Act of Parliament made 
 in the s.«me reign, the terms of which, he says, " bind us," 
 (meaning the people of that day,) " our heirs, and our pos- 
 tentt/, to them, their heirs,9nd posterity, to the endoftim b." 
 
 Mr. Burke conceives his point sufficiently established by 
 producing those* clauses, which he enforces by saying that 
 they exclude the Right of the Nation for ever: and not yet 
 content with making such declarations, repeated over and 
 over again, he further says, "that if the people of England 
 possessed 6uch a right before the Revolution, (which he ac- 
 knowledges to have been the case, not only in England, but
 
 $ RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 throughout Europe, at an early period), yet that the Eng- 
 lish Nation did, at the time of the Revolution, most solemnly 
 renounce and abdicate it, for themselves, and for all their 
 posterity, for ever /" 
 
 As Mr. Burke occasionally applies the poison drawn from 
 his horrid principles, (if it is not a profanation to call them 
 by the name of principles), not only to the English Nation, 
 but to the French Revolution and the National Assembly, 
 and charges that august, illuminated, and illuminating body 
 of men, with the epithet of usurpers, I shall, saris ceremonie, 
 place another system of principles in opposition to his. 
 
 The English Parliament of 1688 did a certain thing, which, 
 for themselves and their constituents, they had a right to do, 
 and which appeared right should be done: but, in addi- 
 tion to this right, which they possessed by delegation, they 
 set up another right by assumption, that of binding and con- 
 trouling posterity to the end of time. The case, therefore, 
 divides itself into two parts; the right which they possessed 
 by delegation, and the right which they set up by assump- 
 tion. The first is admitted ; but, with respect to the second, 
 I reply — 
 
 There never did, there never will, and there never can 
 exist a Parliament, or any description of men, or any gene- 
 ration of men, in any country, possessed of the right or the 
 power of binding and controuling posterity to the " end of 
 time," or of commanding for ever how the world shall be 
 governed, or who shall govern it ; and therefore, all such 
 clauses, acts, or declarations, by which the makers of them 
 attempt to do what they have neither the right nor the 
 power to do, nor the power to execute, are in themselves 
 null and void. 
 
 Every age and generation must be as free to act for itself, 
 in all cases, as the ages and generations which preceded it. 
 The vanity and presumption of governing beyond the grave, 
 is the most ridiculous and insolent of all tyrannies. Man 
 has no property in man ; neither has any generation a pro- 
 perty in the generations which are to follow. 
 
 The parliament, or the people of 1688, or of any other 
 period, had no more right to dispose of the people of 
 the present day, or to bind, or to controul them in any shape 
 whatever, than the parliament or the people of the present 
 day have to dispose of, bind, or controul those who are to 
 live a hundred or a thousand years hence. 
 
 Every generation is, and must be, competent to all the 
 purposes which its occasions require. It is the living, and 
 not the dead, that are to be accommodated. When man 
 ceases to be, his power and his wants cease with him ; and
 
 RIGHTS OF MAS. 4 
 
 having no longer any participation in the concerns of this 
 world, he has no longer any authority in directing who shall 
 be its governors, or how its government shall be organized, 
 or how administered. 
 
 I am not contending for nor against any form of Govern- 
 ment, nor for nor against any party here or elsewhere. 
 That which a whole nation chooses to do, it has a right to do. 
 Mr. Burke says, No. Where then does the right exist ? I , 
 am contending for the rights of the living, and against their j] 
 being willed away, and controled and contracted for, by the/ 
 manuscript, assumed authority of the dead; and Mr. Burke' 
 is contending for the authority of the dead, over the rights 
 and freedom of the living. 
 
 There was a time when Jcings disposed of their crowns 
 by will upon their death-beds, and consigned the people, 
 like beasts of the field, to whatever successor they appoint- 
 ed. This is now so exploded as scarcely to be remem- 
 bered, and so monstrous as hardly to be believed : but the 
 parliamentary clauses upon which Mr. Burke builds his 
 political church, are of the same nature. 
 
 The laws of every country must be analogous to some 
 common principle. In England, no parent, or master, nor 
 all the authority of Parliament, omnipotent as it has called 
 itself, can bind or controul the personal freedom even of 
 an individual beyond the age of twenty-one years : on what 
 ground of right, then, could the Parliament of 1633, or any 
 other Parliament, bind all posterity for ever ? 
 
 Those who have quitted the world, and those who are 
 not yet arrived at it, are as remote from each other as the 
 utmost stretch of mortal imagination can conceive. What 
 possible obligation then can exist between them ? what rule 
 or principle can be laid down, that two nonentities, the one 
 out of existence, and the other not in, and who can never 
 meet in this world, that the one should controul the other 
 to the end of time ? 
 
 In England it is said that money cannot be taken out 
 of the pockets of the people without their consent: but 
 who authorized, and who could authorize the Parliament 
 of 1688 to controul and take away the freedom of posterity, 
 and limit and confine their rights of acting in certain cases 
 for ever, who were not in existence to give or withhold 
 their consent ? •* 
 
 A greater absurdity cannot present itself to the under- 
 standing of man, than what Mr. Burke offers to his readers. 
 He tells them, and he tells the world to come, that a cer- 
 tain body of men, who existed a hundred years ago, made 
 a law ; and that there does not now exist in the nation, nor 
 «ver will, nor ever can, a power to alter it.
 
 6 RIGHTS Or MAN. 
 
 Under how many subtilties, or absurdities, has the divine 
 right to govern been imposed on the credulity of man- 
 kind! — Mr. Burke has discovered a new one, and he has 
 shortened his journey to Rome, by appealing to the power 
 of this infallible parliament of former days : and he produces 
 what it has done, as of divine authority: for that power 
 must certainly be more than human, which no human 
 power, to the end of time, can alter. 
 
 But Mr. Burke has done some service, not to his cause, 
 but to his country, by bringing those clauses into public 
 view. They serve to demonstrate how necessary it is , at 
 all times, to watch against the attempted encroachment 
 of power, and to prevent its running to excess. 
 
 It is somewhat extraordinary, that the offence for which 
 James II. was expelled, that of setting up power by 
 assumption, should be re-acted, under another shape and 
 form, by the parliament that expelled him. It shews, that 
 the Rights of Man were but imperfectly understood at the 
 Revolution ; for, certain it is, that the right which that 
 Parliament set up by assumption (for by delegation it had 
 not, and could not have it, because none could give itj 
 over the persons and freedom of posterity for ever, was of 
 the same tyrannical, unfounded kind, which James at- 
 tempted to set up over the Parliament and the nation, and 
 for which he was expelled. The only difference is, (for in 
 principle they differ not), that the one was an usurper over 
 the living, and the other over the unborn; and as the one 
 has no better authority to stand upon than the other, both 
 of them must be equally null and void, and of no effect. 
 
 From what, or from whence, does Mr. Burke prove the 
 right of any human power to bind posterity for ever? He 
 has produced his clauses ; but he must produce also his 
 proofs that such a right existed, and shew how it existed- 
 If it ever existed, it must now exist; for, whatever apper- 
 tains to the nature of man, cannot be annihilated by man. 
 It is the nature of man to die, and he will continue to die 
 as long as he continues to be born. But Mr. Burke has 
 set up a sort of political Adam, in whom all posterity are 
 bound for ever: he must therefore prove that his Adam 
 possessed such a power, or such a right. 
 
 The weaker any cord is, the less will it bear to be stretched, 
 and the worse is the policy to stretch it, unless it is intended 
 to break it. — Had a person contemplated the overthrow of 
 Mr. Burke's positions, he would have proceeded as Mr. 
 Burke has done; he would have magnified the autho- 
 rities, on purpose to have called the right of them into 
 question; and the instant the question of right was start- 
 ed, the authorities must have been given up.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 6 
 
 It requires but a very small glance of thought to perceive 
 that although laws made in one generation often continue 
 in force tiirough succeeding generations, yet that they conti- 
 nue to derive their force from the consent of the living. 
 A law not repealed continues iu force, not because it cannot 
 be repealed, but because it is not repealed; and the non- 
 repealing passes for consent. 
 
 But Mr. Burke's clauses have not even this qualification 
 in their favour. They become null by attempting to become 
 immortal. The nature of them precludes consent. They 
 destroy the figbt which they might have, by grounding it 
 on a right which they cannot have. Immortal power is 
 not a human right, and therefore cannot be a right of par- 
 liament. 
 
 The parliament of 168S might as well have passed an act 
 to have authorised themselves to live for ever, as to make 
 their authority live forever. All, therefore, that can be 
 said of them is, that they are a formality of words, of as 
 much import as if those who used them had addressed a con- 
 gratulation to themselves, and, in the oriental style of an- 
 tiquity, bad said, O Parliament, live for ever! 
 
 The circumstances of the world are continually changing, 
 and the opinions of men change also ; and as government is 
 for the living, and not for the dead, itJs_the.iiyiDg.Qnly that 
 have any ri gh t jr j fa That which may be thought right, 
 and found convenient in one age, may be thought wrong, 
 aud found inconvenient in another. In such cases, who is 
 to decide, the living, or the dead ? 
 
 As almost one hundred pages of Mr. Burke's book are em- 
 ployed upon these clauses, it will consequently follow, that 
 if the clauses themselves, so far as they set up an assumed, 
 uturped dominion over posterity for ever, are unauthorita- 
 tive, and in their nature null and void; that all his volu- 
 minous inferences and declamations, drawn therefrom, or 
 founded thereon, are null and void also ; and on this ground 
 I rest the matter. 
 
 We now come more particularly to the affairs of France. 
 Mr. Burke's book has the appearance of being written at 
 instruction to the French nation ; but if I may permit my- 
 self the use of an extravagant metaphor, (suited to the ex- 
 travagance of the case,) it is darkness attempting to illumU 
 nate light. 
 
 While lam writing this, there are accidentally before me 
 some proposals for a declaration of rights, by tue Marquis 
 de la Fayette, (I ask his pardon for using his former address, 
 and do it only for distinction's sake) to the National Assem- 
 bly, on the 11th of July, 1789, three days before taking of 
 
 B
 
 9 ftTGHTS OP MA*. 
 
 the BasHle ; and I cannot but be struck by observing how 
 opposite the sources fioni w^ridi that gentleman and Mr. 
 Burke draw their principles. Instead of referring to musty 
 record*, and mouldy parchments, to prove that the rights of 
 the living are lost, *' renounce and abdicated forever," by 
 those who are no mere, as Mr. Burke has done, Mr. de la 
 Fayette applies to the living world, and emphatically says, 
 '* Call-to mind the sentiments which Nature has engraven 
 on the heart of every citizen, and which take a new force 
 when they are solemnly recognized by all : — For a Nation 
 to love liberty, it is sulficient that she knows it ; and to be 
 free, it >s sufficient that she wills it." How dry, barren, and 
 obscure, is the source from which Mr. Burke labours ! and 
 how ineffectual, though gay with flowers, are his declama- 
 tion and argument, compared with these clear, concise, and 
 soul-animating sentiments ! Few and short as they are, they 
 lead on to a vast field of generous and manly thinking: and 
 do riot finish, like Mr. Burke's periods, with music in the 
 ear, and nothing in the heart. 
 
 As I have introduced M. de la Fayette, I will take the 
 liberty of adding an anecdote respecting his farewell address 
 to the Congress of America, in 1783, and which occurred 
 fresh to my mind when I saw Mr. Burke's thundering attack 
 on the French Revolution. 
 
 M. de la Fayette went to America at an early period of 
 the war, and continued a volunteer in her service to the end. 
 His conduct, through the whole of tha| enterprise, is one of 
 the most extraordinary that is to be found in the history of 
 a young man, scarcely then twenty years of age. Situated 
 in a country that was like the lap of sensual pleasure, how 
 few are there to be found who would exchange such a scene 
 for the woods and wildernesses of America; and pass the 
 'flowery years of youth in unprofitable danger and hardship! 
 but such is the fact. When the war ended, and he was on 
 the point of taking his final departure, he presented himself 
 to Congress, and contemplating, in his affectionate farewell, 
 the revolution he had seen, expressed himself in these 
 words: "May this great monument, raised to Liberty, serve 
 as a lesson to the oppressor, and an example to the op- 
 pressed !** — When this address came to the hands of Dr. 
 "Franklin, who was then in France, he applied to Count 
 Vergennes to have it inserted in the French gazette, but 
 could never obtain his consent. The fact was, that Count 
 de Vergennes was an aristocratical despot at home, and 
 dreaded the example of the American revolution in France, 
 as certain other persons now dread the example of the French 
 revolution in England ; and Mr. Burke's tribute of fear, (for
 
 RIGHTS OF MAH. » 
 
 in this light his hook must be countered.) runs parallel with 
 Count Vergennes' refusal. But to return more particularly 
 to his work — 
 
 " We have seen," says Mr. Burke, " the French rebel against 
 a mild and lawful monarch, with more fury, outrage, and 
 insult, than nny people has been known to rise against the 
 most illegal usurper, or the most sanguinary tyrant." This 
 is one, among a thousand o:her instances, in which Mr. 
 Burke shews that he is ignorant of the springs ami princi- 
 ples of the French revolution. 
 
 It was not asainst Louis the l(5th, but against the des- 
 potic principles of the Government that the Nation re- 
 volted. These principles had not their origin in him, but 
 in the original establishment, many centuries hack ; and they 
 were become too deeply rooted to be removed, and the Au- 
 gean stable of parasites and plundereis too ahominably filthy / 
 to be cleansed, by any thing short of a complete and gene- 
 ral revolution. When it becomes necessary to do a thing, 
 the whole heart and soul should go into the measure, or not 
 attempt it. That crisis was then arrived, and there re- 
 mained no choice but to act with determined vigour, Of not ' 
 to act at all. . The King was known to ( be the friend of the 
 Nation, and this circumstance was favourable to the enter- 
 prize. Perhaps no roan bred up in the style of an absolute 
 King, ever possessed a heart so little disposed to the exercise 
 of that species of power, as the present King of France. But 
 the principles of the Government itself remained the same. 
 The Monarch and the Monarchy were distinct and separate 
 things; and it was against the estahlished despotism of the 
 latter, and not against the person or principles of the for- 
 mer, that the revolt commenced, and the revolution has 
 been carried. 
 
 Mr. Burke does not attend to the distinction between * 
 men and principles ; and therefore he does not see that a 
 revolt may take place against the despotism of the latter, 
 while there lies no charge of despotism against the former. 
 
 The natural moderation of Louis XVI. contributed no- 
 thing to alter the hereditary despotism of the monarchy. 
 All the tyrannies of former reigns, acted under that here- 
 ditary despotism, were still liable to be revived in the hands 
 of a successor. It was not the respite of a reign that would 
 satisfy France, enlightened as she was then become. A ca- 
 sual discontinuance of the practice of despotism is not a 
 discontinuance qi' its principles; the former depends on the 
 virtue of the individual who is in the immediate possession 
 of the power; the latter on the virtue and fortitude of the 
 Nation. 
 
 B 2
 
 y 
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 In the case of Charles I. and James II. of England, the 
 ■evolt was against the personal despotism of the men ; 
 [whereas in France, it was against the hereditary despotism 
 (of the Government. But men who can consign over the 
 rights of posterity for ever, on the authority of a mouldy 
 parchment, like Mr. Burke, are not qualified to judge of 
 this revolution. It takes in a field too vast for thrir views 
 to explore, and proceeds with a mightiness of reason they 
 cannot keep pace with. 
 
 But there are many points of view in which this revolu- 
 tion may be considered. When despotism has established 
 itself in a country for ages, as in l< ranee, it is not in the 
 person of the King only that it resides. It has the appear- 
 ance of being so in show, and in nominal authority ; but it 
 is not so in practice, and in fact. It has its standard every 
 where. Every office, and every department, has its despo- 
 tism, founded upon custom and usage. Every place has 
 its Bastille, and every Bastille its despot. The original he- 
 reditary despotism, resident in the person of the King, di- 
 vides and subdivides itself into a thousand shapes and forms, 
 till at last the whole of it is acted by deputation. This was 
 the case in France; and against this species of despotism, 
 proceeding on through an endless labyrinth of office, till the 
 source of it is scarcely perceptible, there is no mode of re- 
 dress. It strengthens itself by assuming the appearance of 
 duty, and tyrannizes under the pretence of obeying. 
 
 When a man reflects on the condition which France was 
 in, from the nature of her Government, he will see other 
 causes for revolt than those which immediately connect 
 themselves with the person or character of Louis XVI. 
 There were, if I may so express it, a thousand despotisms 
 to be reformed in France, which had grown up under the 
 hereditary despotism of the monarchy, and became so 
 rooted as to be in a great measure independent of it. 
 Between the monarchy, the parliament, and the church, 
 there was a rivalship of despotism ; besides the feudal despo- 
 tism, operating locally, and the ministerial despotism, ope- 
 rating everywhere. But Mr. Burke, by considering the 
 King as the only possible object of a revolt, speaks as if 
 France was a village, in which every thing that passed must 
 be known to its commanding officer, and no oppression 
 could be acted but what he could immediately controul, 
 Mr. Burke might have been in the Bastille his whole life, 
 as well under Louis XVI. as Louis XIV. and neither the 
 one) nor the other have know that such a man as Mr. Burke 
 existed. The despotic principles of the Government were 
 the same in both reigns, though the dispositions of the men 
 were as remote as tyranny and benevolence.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 10 
 
 What Mr. Burke considers as a reproach to the French 
 Revolution (that of bringing it forward under a reign more 
 miW than the preceding ones,) is one of its highest honours. 
 The revolutions that have taken place in other European 
 countries have been excited by personal hatred. The njge 
 was against the man, and he became the victim. But, in 
 the instance of France, we see a revolution generated in the 
 rational contemplation of the Rights of Man, and distin- 
 guishing from the beginning between persons and princi- 
 ples. 
 
 But Mr. Burke appears to have no idea of principles, when 
 he is contemplating Governments. ** Ten years ago (says he) 
 I could have felicitated France on her having a Government, 
 without enquiring what the Nature of that Government was, 
 or how it was administered." Is this the language of a ra- 
 tional man ? Is it the language of a heart feeling as it ought 
 to feel for the rights and happiness of the human race ? On 
 this ground, Mr. Burke must compliment every Government 
 in the world ; while the victims who suffer under them, 
 whether sold into slavery, or tortured out of existence, are 
 wholly forgotten. It is power, and not principles, that Mr. 
 Burke venerates; and under this abominable depravity he is 
 disqualified to judge between them. — Thus much for his 
 opinion as to the occasion of the French Revolution. I now 
 proceed to other considerations. 
 
 I know a place in America called Point-no-Point ; because 
 as you proceed along the shore, gay and flowery as Mr. 
 Burke's language, it continually recedes and presents itself at 
 a distance a-head ; but when you have got as far as you can 
 go, there is no point at all. Just thus it is with Mr. Burke's 
 three hundred and fifty-six pages. It is therefore difficult 
 to reply to him. But as the points he wishes to establish, 
 may be inferred from what he abuses, it is in his paradoxes 
 that we must look for his arguments. 
 
 As to the tragic paintings by which Mr. Burke has out- 
 raged his own imagination, and seeks to work upon that of 
 his readers, they are very well calculated for theatrical re- 
 presentation, where facts are manufactured for the sake of 
 show, and accommodated to produce, through the weak- 
 ness of sympathy, a weeping effect. But Mr. Burke should 
 recollect, he is writing history, and not plays; and that 
 his readers will expect truth, and not the spouting rant of 
 high-toned exclamation. 
 
 When we see a man dramatically lamenting, in a publi- 
 cation intended to be believed, that " The age of chivalry is 
 gone!" that" The glory of Europe is extinguished for ever .'" 
 that " the unbought grace of life, ' (if any one knows what it
 
 is), " the cheap ckfetitt of Nations, the nurse of manly senti- 
 ment, and heroic enfapmeh gmte.'" ami all this because the 
 Quixote age of chivalry nonsense is gone, what opinion can 
 we form of his judgment, or what regard can we pay to hii 
 facts? In i lie rhapsody of hks imagination, he has disco- 
 vered a world of windmills, and his sorrows are, that there 
 are no Quixotes to attack them. But if the age of Aristo- 
 cracy, like that of chivalry, should fnll, (and tfnyhad origi- 
 nally gome connection,) Mr. Burke, tin- trumpeter of the 
 order, may continue his parody to the end, and finish with 
 exclaiming, " Othello 's occupation 's'gone /" 
 '- Notwithstanding Mr. Burke's horrid paintings, when the 
 French devolution is compared with those of otW countries, 
 the astonishment will he, that it is marked with so few sacri- 
 fices; but this astonishment will cease, wben we reflect 
 that-ftMttfjff/ps, and notj) < .» < n W « i wet v tl)e invdifsted objects 
 of destruction. The mind of the Nation was acted upon 
 by a higher stimulus than what the consideration of persons 
 could inspire, and sought a higher conquest than could be 
 produced by the downfall of an enemy. Among the few 
 who fell, there do not appear to be any that were intenti- 
 onally singled out. They all of them had their fate in the 
 circumstances of the moment, and were not pursued with 
 that long, cold-blooded, unabated revenge which pursued the 
 unfortunate Scotch in the affair of 1745. 
 
 Through the whole of Mr. Burke's book I do not observe 
 that the Bastille is mentioHed more than once, and that with 
 a kind of implication as if he were sorry it was pulled down, 
 and wished it were built up again. — 
 
 «' We have rebuilt Newgate (says he), and tenanted the 
 mansion; and we have prisons almost as strong as the Bas- 
 tille for those who dare to libel the Queens of France.* As 
 to what a madman, like the person called Lord George Gor- 
 don, might say, and to whom Newgate is rather a bedlam 
 than a prison, it is unworthy of a rational consideration. It 
 wns a madman that libelled — and that is sufficient apology : 
 and it afforded an opportunity for confining him, which was 
 
 . , 
 
 * Since writing tne above, two other places occur in Mr. Burke's pamphlet it 
 which the name of the Bastille is mentioned, but in the same manner. In the 
 one, he introduces it in a sort of obscure question, and a«ks,—- " Will anj 
 ministers who now serve such a king, with hut a decent appearance of respect, 
 cordially obey the orders of those whom but the other day, in his name, they had 
 committed to the Bastille ?" In the mher, the taking it is mentioned as implying 
 criminality in the French guards who assisted in demolishing it. — " They have not," 
 says he, *' forgot the taking of tile king's castles at Pari*."— This is Mr. Burke 
 who pretends to write ou constitutional freedom.
 
 RIGHTS OP MAM. 12 
 
 the thing that was wished tor : But certain it is, that Mr. 
 Burke, who does not call himself a madman, (whatever other 
 people may do,) has libelled, in the most, unprovoked man- 
 ner, and in the grossest style of the most vulgar abuse, the 
 whole representative authority of France ; and yet Mr. Burke 
 takes his seat in the British House of Commons ! From .his 
 violence and his grief, his silence on some points, and his 
 excess on others, it is difficult not to believe that Mr. Burke 
 is sorry, extremely sorry, that arbitrary power, the power 
 of the Pope, and the Bastille are pulled down. 
 
 Not one glance of compassion, not one commiserating re- 
 flection, that I can find throughout his book, has lie bestow, 
 ed on those who lingered out the most wretched of lives-*- 
 a life without hope, in the most miserable of prisons. It is 
 painful to behold a man employing his talents to corrupt 
 himself. Nature has been kinder to Mr. Burke, than he is 
 to her. He is not affected by the reality ofdistress touching 
 his heart, but by the shewy resemblance of it striking his 
 imagination. He pities the plumage, but forgets the dying 
 bird. Accustomed to kiss the aristocratic hand that hath 
 purloined him from himself, he degenerates into a compost^ 
 tionofart, and the genuine soul of Nature forsakes him. 
 His hero or his heroine must be a tragedy victim, expiring 
 in shew; and not the real prisoner of misery, sliding into 
 death in the silence of a dungeon. 
 
 As Mr. Burke has passed over the whole transaction of th« 
 Bastille, (and his silence is nothing in his favour), and has 
 entertained his readers with reflections on supposed facts 
 distorted into real falsehoods ; 1 will give, since he has not, 
 some account of the circumstances which preceded that 
 transaction. They will serve to shew, that less mischief 
 could scarcely have accompanied such an event, when con- 
 sidered with the treacherous and hostile aggravations of the 
 enemies of the revolution. 
 
 The mind can hardly picture to itself a more tremendous 
 scene, than what the city of Paris exhibited at the time of 
 taking the Bastille, and for two days before and after, nor 
 conceive the possibility of its quieting so soon. Ata distance, 
 this transaction has appeared only as an act of heroism, 
 standing on itself; and the close political connection it had 
 with the revolution is lost in the brilliancy of the atchieve. 
 ment. But we are to consider it as the strength of the 
 parties brought man to man, and contending for the issue. 
 The Bastille was to be either the prize or prison of the assail- 
 ants. The downfal of it included the idea of the downfal 
 of Despotism; and this compounded image was become as
 
 IS RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 figuratively united as Bunyan's Doubting Castle, and Giant 
 Despair. 
 
 The National Assembly, before and at the time of taking 
 the Bastille, was sitting at Versailles, twelve miles distant 
 from Paris. About a week before the rising of the Parisians 
 and their taking the Bastille, it was discovered that a plot 
 was forming, at the head of which was the Count d'Artois, 
 the King's youngest brother, for demolishing the National 
 Assembly, seizing its members, and thereby crushing by a 
 coup de main, all hopes and prospects of forming a free 
 Government. For the sake of humanity, as well as of free- 
 dom, it is well this plan did not succeed. Examples are not 
 wanting, to shew how dreadfully vindictive and cruel are 
 all old Governments, when they are successful against what 
 they call a revolt. 
 
 This plan must have been some time in agitation ; be- 
 cause, in order to carry it into execution, it was necessary 
 to collect a large military force round Paris, and to cut otf 
 the communication between that city and the National As- 
 sembly at Versailles. The troops destined for this service 
 were chiefly the foreign troops in the pay of France ; and 
 who for this particular purpose, were drawn from the dis- 
 tantprovinces where they were then stationed. When they 
 were collected, to the amount of between twenty-five and 
 thirty thousand men, it was judged time to put the plan in 
 execution. The ministry who were then in office, and who 
 were friendly to the revolution were instantly dismissed, 
 and a new ministry formed of those who had concerted the 
 project; — among whom was the Count de Broglio, and to 
 his share was given the command of those troops. The 
 character of this man, as described to me in a letter which 
 \ communicated to Mr. Burke before he began to write his 
 book, and from an authority which Mr. Burke well knows 
 was good, was that of" an high-flying aristocrat, cool, and 
 capable of every mischief." 
 
 While these matters were agitating, the National Assembly 
 stood in the most perilous and critical situation that a body 
 of men can be supposed to act in. They were the devoted 
 victims, and they knew it. They had the hearts and wishes 
 of their country on their side, but military authority they 
 had none. The guards of Broglio surrounded the hall 
 where the assembly sat — ready, at the word of command to 
 seize their persons, as had been done the year before to the 
 parliament in Paris. Had the National Assembly deserted 
 their trust, or had they exhibited signs of weakness or fear, 
 their enemies had been encouraged, and the country depress- 
 ed. When the situation they stood in, the cause they were
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 14. 
 
 engaged in, and the crisis then ready to burst, which should 
 determine their persoiul and political fate, and that of their 
 country, and probably of Europe, are taken into one view, 
 none but a heart callous with prejudice, or corrupted by 
 dependance, can avoid interesting itself in their success. 
 
 The Archbishop of Vienne was at this time persident of 
 the National Assembly ; a person too old to undergo the 
 scene, that a few days, or a few hours might bring forth. 
 A man of more activity, and bolder fortitude was necessary; 
 and the National Assembly chose (under the form of a vice- 
 president, for the presidency still resided in the Archbishop) 
 M. de la Fayette ; and this is the only instance of a vice- 
 president being chosen. It was at the moment that this 
 •torm was pending (July 11) that a declaration of rights was 
 brought forward by M. de la Fayette, and is the $ame 
 which I have before alluded to. It was hastily drawn up, 
 and makes only a part of a more extensive declaration of 
 rights, agreed upon and adopted afterwards by the National 
 Assembly. The particular reason for bringing it forward 
 at this moment, M. de la Fayette has since informed me, 
 was, that if the National Assembly should fall in the threat- 
 ened destruction that then surrounded it, some traces of its 
 principles might have the chance of surviving the wreck. 
 
 Every thing was now drawing to a crisis. The event was 
 freedom or slavery. On the one side, an army of nearly 
 thirty thousand men ; on the other an unarmed body of ci- 
 tizens : for the citizens of Paris, on whom the National As- 
 sembly must then immediately depend, were as unarmed and 
 as undisciplined as the citizens of London are now. — The 
 French guards had given strong symptoms of their being at- 
 tached to the national cause; but their numbers were 
 small — not a tenth part of the force that Broglio command- 
 ed, and their officers were in the interest of Broglio. 
 
 Matters being now ripe for execution, the new ministry 
 made their appearance in office. The reader will carry in 
 his mind, that the Bastille was taken the 14th of July : the 
 point of time I am now speaking to is the 12th. Immedi- 
 ately on the news of the change of ministry reaching Paris, 
 in the afternoon, all the playhouses and places of entertain- 
 ment, shops and houses, were shut up. The change of mi- 
 nistry was considered as the prelude to hostilities, and the 
 opinion was rightly founded. 
 
 The foreign troops began to advance towards the city. 
 The prince de Lambesc, who commanded a body of German 
 cavalry, approached by the Place of Louis XV. which con- 
 nects itself with some of the streets. In his march, he insult- 
 ed and struck an old man with his sword. The French are
 
 16 RIGHTS OF WAN. 
 
 remarkable for their respect to old age ; and the insolence 
 with which it appeared to be done, uniting with the gene- 
 ral fermentation they were in, produced a powerful effect, 
 and cry of" to arms/ to arms J" spread itself in a moment 
 over the city. 
 
 Arms they had none; nor scarcely any who 
 knew the use of them : — but desperate resolution, when 
 every hope is at stake, supplies lor a while the want of arms. 
 Near where the Prince of Lambesc was drawn up, were 
 large piles of stones collected for building the new bridge, 
 and .with these the people attacked the cavalry. , A parly 
 of the French guards, upon hearing the firing, rushed from 
 their quartet s, and joined the. people; and night coming on, 
 the cavalry retreated*. 
 
 The streets of Paris, being. narrow,, are favourable for de- 
 fence; and the loftiness of the houses, consisting of many 
 stories, from which great annoyance might be given, secured 
 them against nocturnal enterprises ; the night was spent in 
 providing themselves with every sort of weapon they could 
 make or procure; guns, swords, blacksmiths' hammers, car- 
 penters' axes, iron crows, pikes, halberts, pitchforks, spits, 
 clubs, &c. &c. The incredible numbers in which they as- 
 sembled the next morning, and the still more incredible re- 
 solution they exhibited, embarrassed and astonished their 
 enemies. Little did the new ministry. expect such a salute. 
 Accustomed to slavery themselves;, they had no idea that 
 liberty was capable of such inspiration; or that a body of 
 unarmed citizens would dare to face the military force of 
 thirty thousand men. Every moment of this day was em- 
 ployed in collecting arms, concerting plans, and arranging 
 themstlves into the best order which such an instantaneous 
 movement could afford. Broglio continued lying round the 
 city, but made no farther advances this day ; and the suc- 
 ceeding night passed with as much tranquillity as such a 
 scene could possibly produce. 
 
 But defence only was not the object of the citizens. They 
 had a cause at stake on which depended their freedom, or 
 their slavery* They every moment expected an attack, or 
 to hear of one made On the National Assembly; and in such 
 a situation, the most prompt measures are sometimes the 
 best. The object that now presented itself was. the Bas- 
 tille ; and Hie eclat of carrying such a fortress, in the face of 
 such an a;»i>v, could; "not tail to strike a terror into the new 
 ministry, who bail scarcely yet had time to meet. By some 
 intercepted correspondence this morning, it was discovered 
 that the Mayo i of Paris, M. l)e Flesselles, who appeared to 
 be in their interest, was betraying them ; and from this dis-
 
 RIGHTS OP HAH. 16 
 
 covery, there remained do doubt that Broglio would rein- 
 force the Bastille the ensuing evening. It was therefore ne- 
 cessary to attack it that day ; but before this could be done, 
 it was first necessary to procure a better supply of arms, than 
 they were then possessed of. 
 
 There was adjoining to the city a large magazine of arms 
 deposited at the Hospital of the Invalids, which the citizens 
 summoned to surrender; and as the place was not defen- 
 sible, nor attempted much defence, they soon succeeded. 
 Thus supplied, they marched to attack the Bastille — a vast 
 mixed multitude of all ages, and of all degrees, and armed 
 with all sorts of weapons. Imagination would fail in de- 
 scribing to itself the appearance of such a procession, and 
 of the anxiety for the events which a few hours, or a few 
 moments, might produce. What plans the ministry were 
 forming, were as unknown to the people within the city, as 
 what the citizens were doing was unknown to the ministry; 
 and what movements Broglio might make for the support or 
 relief of the place, were to the citizens equally unknown. 
 All was mystery and hazard. 
 
 That the Bastille was attacked with an enthusiasm of he- 
 roism, such only as the highest animation of liberty could 
 inspire, and carried in the space of a few hours, is an event 
 which the world is fully possessed of. I am not undertak- 
 ing a detail of the attack ; but bringing into view the con- 
 spiracy against the Nation which provoked it, and which 
 fel] with the Bastille. The prison to which the new minis- 
 try were dooming the National Assembly, in addition to its 
 being the high altar and castle of despotism, became the 
 proper object to begin with. This enterprize broke up the 
 new ministry, who bee;an now to fly from the ruin they had 
 prepared for others. The troops of Broglio dispersed, and 
 himself fled also. 
 
 Mr. Burke has spoken a great deal about plots ; but he has 
 never once spoken of this plot against the National Assem- 
 bly, and the liberties of the Nation ; and that he might not, 
 he has passed over all the circumstances that might throw it 
 in his way. 
 
 The exiles who have fled from France, in whose fate he 
 so much interests himself, and from whom he has had his 
 lesson, fled in consequence of the miscarriage of this plot. 
 No plot was formed against them — they were plotting 
 against others; and those who fell, met, not unjustly, the 
 punishment they were preparing to execute. But will Mr. 
 Burke say, that if this plot, contrived with the subtlety of 
 au ambuscade, had succeeded, the successful party would
 
 IT RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 have restrained their wrath so soon ? Let the history of all 
 old governments answer the question. 
 
 Whom has the National Assembly brought to the scaf- 
 fold ? None. They were themselves the devoted victims of 
 this plot, and they have not retaliated. Why then are they 
 charged with revenge they have not acted ? In the tremen- 
 dous breaking forth of a whole people, in which all degrees, 
 tempers, and characters, are confounded ; and delivering 
 themselves, by a miracle of exertion, from the destruction 
 meditated against them, is it to be expected that nothing 
 will happen ? When men are sore with the sense of op- 
 pressions, and menaced wij;h the prospect of new ones, is 
 the calmness of philosophy, or the palsy of insensibility, to 
 be looked for ? Mr. Burke exclaims against outrage ; yet 
 the greatest is that which himself has committed. His book 
 is a volume of outrage; not apologized for by the impulse 
 of a moment, but cherished through a space of ten months ; 
 yet Mr. Burke had no provocation — no life, no interest at 
 stake. 
 
 More of the citizens fell in this struggle than of their op- 
 ponents ; but four or five persons were seized by the popu- 
 lace, and instantly put to death: the Governor of the Bas- 
 tille, and the Mayor of Paris, who was detected in the act of 
 betraying them ; and afterwards Foulon, one of the new mi- 
 nistry, and Berthier, his son-in-law, who had accepted the 
 office of Intendant of Paris. Their heads were stuck upoti 
 spikes, and carried about the city; and it is upon this mode 
 of punishment that Mr. Burke builds a great part of his tra- 
 gic scenes. Let us therefore examine how men came by the 
 idea of punishing in this manner. 
 
 They learn it from the Governments they live under, and 
 retaliate the punishments they have been accustomed to be- 
 hold. The heads stuck upon spikes, which remained for 
 years upon Temple-bar differed nothing in the horror of the 
 scene from those carried about upon spikes at Paris; yet 
 this was done by the English government. It may perhaps 
 be said, that it signifies nothing to a man what is done to 
 him after he is dead ; but it signifies much to the living : it 
 either tortures their feelings, or hardens their hearts ; and in 
 either case it instructs them how to punish, when power falls 
 into their hands. 
 
 Lay then the axe to the root, and teach Governments hu- 
 manity. It is their sanguinary punishments which corrupt 
 mankind. In England, the punishment in certain cases, is 
 by hanging, drawing, and quartering ; the heart of the sufferer 
 is cut out, and held up to the view of the populace. In 
 France, under the former Government, the punishments
 
 RIGHTS OF ausr. t% 
 
 were not less barbarous. Who does not remember tl* 
 execntion of Damien, torn to pieces by horses? The effect, 
 of those cruel spectacles exhibited to the populace, is to 
 destroy tenderness, or to excite revenge ; awl by the base 
 and false idea of governing men by terror, instead of reason, 
 they become precedents. It is over the lowest class of man- 
 kind that government by terror is intended to operate ; and 
 it is on them that it operates to the worst effect. They 
 have sense enough to feel they are the objects aimed at; 
 and they inflict in their turn the examples of terror which 
 they have been instructed to practise. 
 
 There is in all European countries, a large class of people 
 of that description which in England is called the ' mob! 
 Of this class were those who committed the burnings 
 and devastations in London, in 1780; and of this class 
 were those who carried the heads upon spikes in Paris. 
 
 Foulon and Berthier were taken up in the country, and 
 sent to Paris, to undergo their examination at the Hotel 
 deVille; for the National Assembly, immediately on the 
 new ministry coming into office, passed a decree, which 
 they communicated to the King and Cabinet, that they 
 {the National Assembly) would hold the ministry, of which 
 Foulon was one, responsible for the measures they were 
 advising and pursuing ; but ttie mob, incensed at the appear- 
 ance of Foulon and Berthier, tore them from their conductors, 
 before they were carried to the "Hotel de Ville, and executed 
 them on the spot. Why then does Mr. Burke charge outrages 
 of this kind upon a whole people? As well may he charge 
 the riots and outrages of 1780 on all the people of London, 
 or those in Ireland on all his countrymen. 
 
 But every thing we see or hear, offensive to our feelings, 
 and derogatory to the human character, should had to 
 other reflections than those of reproach. Even the beings 
 who commit them have some claim to our consideration. 
 How then is it, that such vast classes of mankind as are 
 distinguished by the appellation of the vulgar, or the ignorant 
 mob, are so numerous in all old countries ? The instant we 
 ask ourselves this question, refleccion feels an answer. They 
 arise, as an unavoidable cousequence, out of the ill construc- 
 tion of all old governments in Europe, England included 
 with the rest. It is by distortedly exalting some men, 
 that others are distortedly debased, till the whole is out of 
 nature. A vast ma^s of mankind are degrading thrown 
 into the back-ground of the human picture, to bring for- 
 ward with greater glare, the puppet-shew of state and aris- 
 tocracy. In the commencement of a revolution, these men 
 
 C
 
 1* RIGHTS OF MAW. 
 
 are rather the followers of the camp than the standard of 
 liberty, and have yet to be instructed how to reverence it. 
 
 I give to Mr. Burke all his theatrical exaggerations for 
 facts, and I then ask him, if they do not establish the cer- 
 tainty of what 1 here lay down ? Admitting them to be 
 true, they shew the necessity of the French Revolution, as 
 much as any one thing he could have asserted. These out- 
 rages were not the effect of the principles of the revolution, 
 but of the degraded mind which existed before the revolu- 
 tion, and which the revolution is calculated to reform. 
 Place them then to their proper cause, and take the reproach 
 of them to your own side. 
 
 It is to the honour of the National Assembly, and the 
 city of Paris, that during such a tremendous scene of arms 
 and confusion, beyond the controul of all authority, they 
 have been able, by the influence of example and exhorta- 
 tion, to restrain so much. Never were more pains taken to 
 instruct and enlighten mankind; and to make them see 
 that their interest consisted in virtue, and not in revenge, 
 than have been displayed in the Revolution of France. 
 
 I now proceed to make some remarks on Mr. Burke's 
 account of the expedition to Versailles, October the 
 5th and 6th, 1789. 
 
 I cannot consider Mr. Burke's book in scarcely any other 
 light than a dramatic performance ; and he must, I think, 
 have considered it in the same light himself, by the poetical 
 liberties he has taken, of omitting some facts, distorting 
 others, and making the whole machinery bend to produce 
 a stage effect. Of this kind is his account of the expedition 
 to Versailles. He begins this account by omitting the only 
 facts which as causes are known to be true; every thing 
 beyond these is conjecture, even in Paris ; and he then 
 works up a tale accommodated to his own passions and 
 prejudices. 
 
 It is to be observed throughout Mr. Burke's book, that 
 he, never speaks of plots against the Revolution ; and it 
 is from those plots that all the mischiefs have arisen. It 
 suits his purpose to exhibit the consequences without their 
 causes. It is one of the arts of the drama to do so. If 
 the crimes of men were exhibited with their sufferings, 
 stage effect would sometimes be lost, and the audience 
 would be inclined to approve, where it was intended they 
 should commiserate. 
 
 After all the investigations which have been made into 
 this intricate affair, (the expedition to Versailles) it still re- 
 mains enveloped in all that kind of mystery which ever 
 ccoaipanies events produced more from a concurrence ofa
 
 RIGHTS OF MAS. 20 
 
 awkward circumstances, than from fixed design. While the 
 characters of men are forming, as is always the case in 
 revolutions, there is a reciprocal suspicion, and a disposition 
 to misinterpret each other ; and even parties directly oppo- 
 site in principle will sometimes concur in pushing forward 
 the same movement with very different views, and with 
 the hopes of its producing very different consequences. A 
 great deal of this may be discovered in this embarrassed 
 affair, aud yet the issue of the whole was. what nobody 
 had in view. 
 
 The only things certainly known are, that considerable 
 uneasiness was at this time excited at Paris, by the delay of 
 the King, in not sanctioning and forwarding the decrees of 
 the National Assembly; particularly that of the Declara- 
 tion of the Rights of Man, and the Decrees of the Fourth 
 of August, which contained the foundation principles on 
 which the constitution was to be erected. The kindest, 
 and perhaps the fairest conjecture, upon this matter is, that 
 some of the ministers intended to make remarks and obser- 
 vations upon certain parts of them, before they were finally 
 sanctioned and sent to the provinces. But be this as it may, 
 the enemies of the revolution derived hope from the delay, 
 and the friends of the revolution uneasiness. 
 
 During this state of suspence, the Garde du Corps, which 
 was composed, as such regiments generally are, of persons 
 much connected with the court, gave an entertainment at 
 Versailles, (Oct. 1.) to some foreign regiments then arrived ; 
 and when the entertainment was at the height, on a signal 
 given, the Garde du Corps tore the national cockade from 
 their hats, trampled it under foot, and replaced it with a 
 counter cockade prepared for the purpose. An indignity 
 of this kind amounted to defiance. It was like declaring 
 war; and if men will give challenges, they must expect 
 consequences. 
 
 But all this Mr. Burke has carefully kept out of sight. 
 He begins his conduct by saying — ' History will record, 
 that on the morning of the 6th of Oct. 178y, the King and 
 Queen of France, after a day of confusion, alarm, dismay, 
 and slaughter, lay down under the pledged security of pub- 
 lic faith, to indulge nature in a few hours of respite, and 
 troubled melancholy repose.' This is neither the sober style 
 of history, nor the intention of it. It leaves every thiug to 
 be guessed at, and mistaken. One would at least think there 
 had been a battle; and a battle there probably would have 
 been, had it not been for the moderating prudence of those 
 whom Mr. Burke involves in his censure. By his keeping 
 the Garde du Corps out of sight, Mr. Burke has afforded 
 
 C 2
 
 tl 
 
 RIGMM 6F M4*. 
 
 nimself the dramatic licence of putting the King and Queen 
 in their places, as if the object of the expedition had been 
 against them. — But, to return to my account — 
 
 This conduct of the Garde de Corps, as might well be 
 expected, alarmed and enraged the Parisians. The colours 
 of the cause, and the cause itself, were become too united 
 to mistake the intention of the insult, and the Parisians 
 were determined to call the Garde de Corps to an account. 
 There was certainly nothing of the cowardice of assassina- 
 tion, in marching, in the face of day, to demand satisfac- 
 tion, if such a phrase may be used, of a body of armed men, 
 who had voluntarily given defiance. But the circumstance 
 which serves to throw this affair into embarrassment, is, that 
 the enemies of the revolution appear to have encouraged it, 
 as well as its friends. The one hoped to prevent a civil 
 war, by checking it in time, and the other to make oue. 
 The hopeg of those opposed to the revolution, rested in 
 making the King of their party, and getting him from Ver- 
 sailles to Metz, where they expected to Collect a force, and 
 set up a standard. We have therefore two different objects 
 presenting themselves at the same time, and to be accom- 
 plished by the same means: the one to. chastise the Garde 
 de Corps, which was the object of the Parisians; the other, 
 to render the confusion of such a scene an inducement to 
 the King to set off for Metz. 
 
 On the 5th of October, a very numerous body of women, 
 and men in the disguise of women, collected round the Ho- 
 tel de Ville, or town-hall of Paris, and set off for Versailles. 
 Their professed object was the Garde de Corps ; but pru- 
 dent men readily recollect that mischief is more easily begun 
 than ended ; and this impressed itself with the more force, 
 from the suspicions already stated, and the irregularity of 
 such a cavalcade. 
 
 As soon, therefore, as a sufficient force could be collected*, 
 M. de la Fayette, by orders from the civil authority of Pa- 
 ris, set off after them, at the head of twenty thousand of the 
 Paris militia. The revolution could derive no benefit from 
 confusion, and its opposers might. By an amiable and spirited 
 manner of address, he had hitherto been fortunate in calm- 
 ing disquietudes, and in this he was extraordinarily success- 
 ful. To frustrate, therefore, the hopes of those who might 
 seek to improve this scene into a sort of justifiable neces- 
 sity, for the King's quitting Versailles, and withdrawing to 
 Metz; and to prevent, at the same time, the consequences 
 that might ensue between the Garde de Corps and this pha- 
 lanx of men and women, he forwarded expresses to the. 
 King, that he was on his inarch to Versailles, by the orders
 
 ' RIGHTS OF MAN. 22 
 
 of the civil authority of Paris, for the purpose of peace 
 and protection ; expressing at the same time the necessity 
 of restraining the Garde de Corps from firing upon the 
 people.* 
 
 He arrived at Versailles between ten and eleven at night 
 The Garde de Corps was drawn up, and the people had ar- 
 rived some time before, but every thing had remained sus- 
 pended. Wisdom and policy now consisted in changing a 
 scene of danger into a happy event. M. de la Fayette be- 
 came the mediator between the enraged parties ; and the 
 King, to remove the uneasiness which had arisen, from the 
 delay already stated, sent for the President of the National 
 Assembly, and signed the Declaration of the Rights of Man, 
 and such other parts of the constitution as were in readi- 
 ness. 
 
 It was now about one in the morning. Every thing ap- 
 peared to be composed, and a general congratulation took 
 place. By the beat of drum a proclamation was made, 
 that the citizens of Versailles would give the hospitality of 
 their houses to their fellow-citizens of Paris. Those who 
 could not be accommodated in this manner, remained in the 
 streets, or took up their quarters in the churches ; and at 
 two o'clock the King and Queen retired'. 
 
 In this state matters passed till break of day, when a fresh 
 disturbance arose from the censurable conduct of some of 
 both parties, for such characters there will be in all such 
 scenes. One of the Garde de Corps appeared at one of the 
 windows of the palace, and the people who remained dur- 
 ing the night in the streets accosted him with reviling and 
 provocative language. Instead of retiring, as in such a case 
 prudence would have dictated, he presented his musket, 
 fired, and killed one of the Paris militia. The peace being 
 thus broken, the people rushed into the palace in search of 
 the offender. They attacked the quarters of the Garde de 
 Corps within the palace, and pursued them throughout the 
 avenues of it, and to the apartments of the King. On this 
 tumult, not the Queen only, as Mr. Burke has represented 
 it, but every person in the palace, was awakened and alarm- 
 ed ; and M. de la Fayette had a second time to interpose 
 between the parties ; the event of which was, that the Garde 
 de Corps put on the national cockade, and the matter ended 
 as by oblivion, after the loss of two or three lives. 
 
 During the latter part of the time in which this confusion 
 
 * I am warranted in assertiug- this, as 1 had it personally from M. de la Far- 
 fttt, With whom I h«re livtd in habUi of friendship for fouiueu years.
 
 23 RIGHTS OP MAJT. 
 
 was acting, the King and Queen were in public at the 'bal- 
 cony, and neither of them concealed for safety's sake, as Mr. 
 Burke insinuates. 
 
 Matters being thus appeased, and tranquillity restored, a 
 general acclamation broke forth, of—Le Roi a Paris. The 
 King to Paris. It was the shout of peace, and immediately 
 accepted on the part of the King. By this measure, all fu- 
 ture projects of trepanning the King to Metz, and setting up 
 the standard of opposition to the constitution, were pre- 
 vented, and the suspicions extinguished. 
 
 The King and his family reached Paris in the evening, and 
 were congratulated on their arrival, by M. Bailley, the 
 Mayor of Paris, in the name of the citizens. Mr. Burke 
 who, throughout his book, confounds things, persons, and 
 principles, has, in his remarks on M. Bailley's address, con- 
 founded time also. He censures M. Bailley for calling it 
 1 un bonjour,' a good day. Mr. Burke should have informed 
 himself, that' this scene took up the space of two days — the 
 day on which it began with every appearance of danger and 
 mischief, and the day on which it terminated without the 
 mischiefs that threatened; and it is to this peaceful termi- 
 nation that M. Bailley alludes, and to the arrival of the King 
 at Paris. Not less than three hundred thousand persons 
 arranged themselves in the procession from Versailles to 
 Paris, and not an act of molestation was committed during 
 the whole march. 
 
 Mr. Burke, on the authority of M. Lally Tollendal, a de- 
 serter from the National Assembly, says, that on entering 
 Paris, the people shouted— 4 Tous les Eveques a la lanterne.' 
 All bishops to be hanged at the lanthom or lam p. posts. It 
 is surprising that nobody could hear this but Lally Tollen- 
 dal, and that nobody should believe it but Mr. Burke. It 
 has not the least connection with any part of the transaction, 
 and is totally foreign to every circumstance of it. The bi- 
 shops had never been introduced before into any scene of 
 Mr. Burke's drama : why then are they, all at once, and all 
 together, tout d coup et tous ensemble, introduced now? Mr. 
 Burke brings forward his bishops and his lanthorn, like 
 figures in a magic lanthorn, and raises his scenes by contrast 
 instead of connection. But it serves to shew, with the rest 
 of his book, what little credit ought to be given, where even 
 probability is set at defiance, for the purpose of defaming; 
 and with this reflection, instead of a soliloquy in praise of 
 chivalry, as Mr. Burke has done, I close the account of the 
 expedition to Versailles.* 
 
 • An account of the expedition to Versailles may be seen in No. 13, of the Rkvo- 
 M/TI05 db Pabis, containing the evtBts from the 3d to the 10th Octobar, 1789
 
 RIGHTS OF MAX. 24 
 
 I have now to follow Mr. Burke through a pathless wil-^N 
 deroess of rhapsodies, and a sort of descant upon govern- / 
 ments, in which he asserts whatever he pleases, on the pre- 
 tension of its being believed, without offering either evidenced 
 or reasons for so doing. 
 
 Before any thing can be reasoned upon to a conclusion, 
 certain facts, principles, or data, to reason from, must be 
 established, admitted, or denied. Mr. Burke, with his 
 usual outrage, abuses the Declaration of the Rights of Man, 
 published by the National Assembly of France, as the basis 
 on which the Constitution of France is built. This he calls 
 " paltry and blurred sheets of paper about the rights of 
 man." Does Mr. Burke mean to deny that man has any 
 rights? If he does, then he must mean that there are no 
 such things as rights any where, and that he has none him- 
 self ; for who is there in the world but man ? But if Mr. 
 Burke means to admit that man has rights, the question 
 then will be, What are those rights, and how came man by 
 them originally ? 
 
 The error of those who reason by precedents drawn from 
 antiquity, respecting the rights of man, is, that they do not 
 go far enough into antiquity. They do not go the whole 
 way. They stop in some of the intermediate stages, of a 
 hundred, or a thousand years, and produce what was then 
 done, as a rule for the present day. This is no authority 
 at all. If we travel still farther into antiquity, we shall 
 find a direct contrary opinion and practice prevailing; and 
 if antiquity is to be authority, a thousand such authorities 
 may be produced, successively contradicting each other. 
 But if we proceed on, we shall at last come out right : we 
 •hall come to the time when Man came from the hand of 
 his Maker. What was he then? — MAN. Man was his 
 high and only title, and a higher cannot be given him. But 
 of titles I shall speak hereafter. 
 
 We are now got at the origin of Man, and at the origin 
 of his Rights. As to the manner in which the world ha« 
 been governed from that day to this, it is no farther any 
 concern of ours, than to make a proper use of the errors, or 
 the improvements, which the history of it presents. Those 
 who lived a hundred, or a thousand years ago, were then 
 moderns, as we are now. They had their ancients, and those 
 ancients had others, and we also shall be ancients in our 
 turn. If the mere name of antiquity is to govern in the 
 affairs of life, the people who are to live a hundred, or a 
 thousand years hence, may as well take us for a precedent, 
 as we make a precedent of those who lived a hundred or a 
 thousand years ago. The fact is, that portions of antiquity,
 
 26 RIGHTS OF MA!T. 
 
 by proving every thing, establish nothing. It is authority 
 against authority all the way, until we come to the divine 
 origin of the Rights of Man, at the creation. Here our en- 
 quiries find a resting-place, and our reason finds a home, If 
 a dispute about the Rights of Man had arisen at the distance 
 of a hundred years from the creation, it is to this source of 
 authority they must have referred, and it is to the same 
 source of authority that we must now refer. 
 
 Though I mean not to touch upon any sectarian princi- 
 ple of religion, yet it may be worth observing, that the ge- 
 nealogy of Christ is traced to Adam. Why then not trace 
 the Rights of Man to the creation of Man ? I will answer 
 the question — because there have been upstart governments 
 thrusting themselves between, and presumptuously working 
 to unmake Man. 
 
 If any generation of men ever possessed the right of dic- 
 tating the mode by which the world should be governed for 
 ever, it was the first generation that existed; and if that 
 generation did not do it, no succeeding generation can shew 
 any authority fordoing it, nor set any up. The illuminating 
 and divine principle of the equal Rights of Man, (for it has 
 its origin from the Maker of Man) relates not only to the 
 living individuals, but to generations of men succeeding each 
 other. Every generation is equal in Rights to the genera- 
 tion which preceded it, by the same rule that every indivi- 
 dual is born equal in Rights with his cotemporary. 
 
 Every history of the creation, and every traditionary ac- 
 count, whether from the lettered or unlettered world, how- 
 ever they may vary in their opinion or belief of certain par- 
 ticulars, all agree in establishing one point — the unity of 
 Man ; by which I mean, that men are all pf one degree, and 
 consequently that all men are born equal, and with equal 
 Natural Rights, in the same manner as if posterity had been 
 continued by creation, instead of generation, the latter being 
 only the mode by which the former is carried forward ; and 
 consequently, every child born into the world must ^e con- 
 sidered as deriving its existence from God. The world is as 
 new to him as it was to the first man that existed, and his 
 Natural Right in it is of the same kind. 
 
 The Mosaic account of the creation, whether taken as di- 
 vine authority, or merely historical, is fully up to this point, 
 the unity or equality of Man. The expressions admit of no 
 controversy. «* And God said, Let us make Matt in our own 
 image. In the image oJ v God created lie him : mate and female 
 created he them" The distinction of sexes is pointed out, 
 but no other distinction is even implied. If this be not 
 divine authority, it is at least hhiarkul authority ; and shews
 
 RIGHTS OP MAN, 26 
 
 that the equality of Man, so far from being a modern doc- 
 trine, is the oldest upon record. 
 
 It is also to be observed, that all the religions known in the 
 world are founded, so far as they relate to man, on the 
 unity of Man, as being all of one degree. Whether in hea- 
 ven or in hell, or in whatever state man may be supposed to 
 exist hereafter, the good and the bad are the only distinc- 
 tions. Nay, even the laws of Governments are obliged to 
 slide into this principle, by making degrees to consist in 
 crimes, and not in persons. 
 
 It is one of the greatest of all truths, and of the highest 
 advantage to cultivate. By considering man in this light, 
 and by instructing him to consider himself in this light, it 
 places him in a close connection with all his duties, whether 
 to his Creator, or to the creation, of which he is a part; and 
 it is only when he forgets his origin, or to use a more fa- 
 shionable phrase, his birth and family, that he becomes dis- 
 solute. 
 
 It is not among the least of the evils of the present exist- 
 ing Governments, in all parts of Europe, that Man, consi- 
 dered as Man, is thrown back to a vast distance from his 
 Maker, and the artificial chasm filled up by a succession of 
 barriers, or sort of turnpike gates, through which he has to 
 pass. I will quote Mr. Burke's catalogue of barriers, that 
 he has set up between Man and his Maker. Putting himself 
 in the character of a herald, he says — '* We fear God —we 
 look with awe to kings-— with affection to parliaments — with 
 duty to magistrates — with reverence to priests — and with respect 
 to nobility" Mr. Burke has forgotten to put in " chivalry" 
 He has also forgotten to put in Peter. 
 
 The duty of man is not a wilderness of turnpike-gates, 
 through which he is to pass by tickets from one to the other. 
 It is plain and simple, and consists but of two points. Hi* 
 duty to God, which every Man must feel; and with respect 
 to his neighbour, to do as he would be done by. If those 
 to whom power is delegated do well, they will be respected; 
 if not, they will be despised : and with regard to those to 
 whom no power is delegated, but who assume it, the ratio- 
 nal world can know nothing of them. 
 
 Hitherto we have spoken only, and that but in part, of 
 the Natural Rights of Man. We have now to consider the 
 Civil Rights of Man, and to shew how the one originates out 
 of the other. Man did not enter into society to become 
 worse than he was before, nor to have fewer rights than he 
 had before ; but to have those rights better secured. His 
 Natural Rights are the foundation of all his Civil Rights. 
 But in order to pursue this distinction with more precision,
 
 27 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 it will be necessary to mark the different qualities of Natu- 
 ral and Civil Rights. 
 
 A few words will explain this. Natural Rights are those 
 which appertain to Man in right of his existence. Of this 
 kind are all the intellectual— rights,- Of- rights of the mind: 
 and also all those rights of actTug'as an individual, for his 
 own comfort andPhafjpiness, which are not injurious to the 
 Natural Rights of others. — Civil Rights are those which ap- 
 pertain to Man, in right of his~r5eing""S "member of society. 
 Every Civil Right has for its foundation some Natural Right 
 pre-existing in the individual, but to the enjoyment of which 
 individual power is not, in all cases, sufficiently competent. 
 Of this kind are all those which relate to security and pro- 
 tection. 
 
 From this short review, it will be easy to distinguish 
 between that class of Natural Rights which man retains 
 after entering into society, and those which he throws 
 into the common stock, as a member of society. 
 
 The Natural Rights which he retains, are all those in 
 which the power to execute is as perfect in the individual 
 as the right itself. Among this class, as is before-men- 
 tioned, are all the intellectual rights, or Rights of the Mind : 
 consequently, religion is one of those rights. The Natural 
 Rights which are not retained, are all those in which, 
 though the right is perfect in the individual, the power to 
 execute them is defective. They answer not his purpose. 
 A man by Natural Right, has a right to judge in his own 
 cause ; and so far as the Right of Mind is concerned, he 
 never surrenders it; but what availeth it him to judge, 
 if he has not the power to redress? He therefore deposits 
 this right in the common stock of society, and takes the 
 arm of society, of which he is a part, in preference and in 
 addition to his own. Society grants him nothing. Every 
 man is a proprietor in society, and draws on the capital 
 as a matter of right. 
 
 From these premises two or three certain conclusions 
 will follow : — 
 
 First, That every Civil Right grows out of a Natural 
 Right; or, in other words, is a Natural Right exchanged. 
 
 Secondly, That civil power, properly considered as such, is 
 made up of the aggregate of [that class of the Natural Rights of 
 Man, which become defective in the individual in point of pow- 
 er, and answers not his purpose ; but when collected to a focus, 
 becomes competent to the purpose of every one. 
 
 Thirdly, That the power produced from the aggregate of 
 Natural Rights, imperfect in power in the individual, cannot be 
 applied to invade the Natural Rights which are retained in
 
 RIGHTS OF MAII. " 2$ 
 
 the individual, and in which the power to execute is as perfect as 
 the Right itself. 
 
 We have now, in a few words, traced Man from a natural 
 individual to a member of society, and shewn, or endeavour- 
 ed to shew, the quality of the Natural Rights retained, and 
 of those which are exchanged for Civil Rights. Let us now 
 apply these principles to Governments. 
 
 In casting our eyes over the world, it is extremely easy to 
 distinguish the Governments which have arisen out of so- 
 ciety, or out of the social compact, from those which have 
 not: but to place this in a clearer light than what a single 
 glance may afford, it will be proper to take a review of the 
 several sources from which Governments have arisen, and 
 on which they have been founded. 
 They may be all comprehended under three heads — 
 First, Superstition. 
 Secondly, Power. 
 
 Thirdly, The common interests of society, and the common 
 Rights of Man. 
 
 The first was a government of Priestcraft, the second of 
 Conquerors, and the third of Reason. 
 
 When a set of artful men pretended, through the medium 
 of oracles, to hold intercourse with the Deity, as familiarly 
 as they now march up the back-stairs in European Courts, 
 the world was completely under the government of super- 
 stition. The oracles were consulted, and whatever they 
 were made to say, became the law: and this sort of Go- 
 vernment lasted as long as this sort of superstition lasted. 
 
 After these a race of conquerors arose, whose Government, 
 like that of William the Conqueror, was founded in power, 
 and the sword assumed the name of a sceptre. Governments 
 thus established, last as long as the power to support them 
 lasts; but that they might avail themselves of every engine 
 in their favour, they united fraud to force, and set up an idol 
 which they called Divine Right'; and which, in imitation of 
 the Pope, who affects to be spiritual and temporal, and in 
 contradiction to the Founder of the Christian religion, twist- 
 ed itself afterwards into an idol of another shape, called 
 Church and State. The key of St. Peter and the key of the 
 Treasury became quartered upon one another, and the won- 
 dering cheated multitude worshipped the invention. 
 
 When I contemplate the natural dignity of Man-^-when 
 I feel (for nature has not been kind enough to me to blunt 
 my feelings) for the honour and happiness of its character, 
 I become irritated at the attempt to govern mankind by 
 force and fraud, as if they were all knaves and fools; and
 
 £9 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 cau scarcely avoid disgust at those who are thus imposed 
 upon. 
 
 We have now to review the Governments which arise 
 out of society, in contradistinction to those which arise out of 
 superstition and conquest. 
 
 It has been thought a considerable advance towards esta- 
 blishing the principles of Freedom, to say, that Government 
 is a compact between those who govern and those who are 
 governed ; but this cannot be true, because it is putting the 
 effect before the cause ; for, as Man must have existed be- 
 fore Governments existed, there necessarily was a time 
 when Governments did not exist, and consequently there 
 could originally exist no governors to form such a compact 
 with. The fact therefore must be, that the individuals 
 themselves, each in his own personal and sovereign right, 
 entered into a compact with each other, to produce a Govern- 
 ment : and this is the only mode in which Governments 
 have a right to arise, and the only principle on which they 
 have a right to exist. 
 
 To possess ourselves of a clear idea of what Government 
 is, or ought to be, we must trace it to its origin. In doing 
 this, we shall easily discover that Governments must have 
 arisen, either out of the people, or over the people. Mr. 
 Burke has made no distinction. He investigates nothing to 
 its source, and therefore he confounds every thing : but he 
 has signified his intention of undertaking at some future op- 
 portunity, a comparison between the constitutions of Eng- 
 land and France. As he thus renders it a subject of con- 
 troversy, by throwing down the gauntlet, I take him up on 
 his own ground. It is in high challenges that high truths 
 bave the right of appearing ; and I accept it with the more 
 readiness, because it affords me, at the same time, an oppor- 
 tunity of pursuing the subject with respect to Governments 
 arising out of society. 
 
 But it will be first necessary to define what is meant by a 
 Constitution. It is not sufficient that we adopt the world ; 
 we must fix also a standard signification to it. 
 
 A Constitution is not a thing in name only, but in fact. 
 It has not an ideal, but a real existence; and wherever it can- 
 not be produced, in a visible form, there is none. A Consti- 
 tution is a thing a/Ut cedent to a Government; and a Govern- 
 ment is only the creature of a Constitution. The Constitu- 
 tion of a country is Dot the act of its Government, but of the 
 people constituting a Government. It is the body of ele- 
 ments, to which you can refer, aud quote article by article ; 
 and which contains the principles ou which the Government
 
 RIGHTS OF MAM. 30 
 
 shall be established, the manner in which it shall be orga- 
 nized, the powers it shall have, the mode of elections, the 
 duration of parliaments, or by what other names such bodies 
 may be called; the power* which the executive part of a 
 Government shall have; and, in fine, every thing that re- 
 lates to the complete organization of a Civil Government, 
 and the principles on which it shall act, and by which it 
 shall be bound. A Constitution therefore is to a Govern- 
 ment, what the laws made afterwards by that Government 
 are to a Court of Judicature. The Court of Judicature does 
 not make the laws, neither can it alter them ; it only acts 
 in conformity to the laws made ; and the Government is in 
 like manner governed by the Constitution. 
 
 Can then Mr. Burke produce the English Constitution? 
 If he cannot, we may fairly conclude, that though it has 
 been so much talked about, no such thing as a Constitution 
 exists, or ever did exist; and consequently that the People 
 have yet a Constitution to form. 
 
 Mr. Burke will not, I presume, deny the position I have 
 already advanced; namely, that Governments arise, either 
 out of the People, or over the People. The English Govern- 
 ment is one of those which arose out of a conquest, and not 
 out of society: and consequently it arose over the People; 
 and though it has been much modified from the opportunity 
 of circumstances, since the time of William the Conqueror, 
 the country has never yet regenerated itself; and is there- 
 fore without a Constitution. 
 
 I readily perceive the reason why Mr. Burke declined 
 going into the comparison between the English and French 
 Constitutions, because he could not but perceive, when he 
 sat down to the task, that no such thing as a Constitution 
 existed on his side the question. His book is certainly 
 bulky enough to have contained all he could say upon the 
 subject, and it would have been the best manner in which 
 people could have judged of their separate merits. Why 
 then has he declined the only thing that was worth his while 
 to write upon ? It was the strongest ground he could take, 
 if the advantages were on his side; but the weakest, if they 
 were not : and his declining to take it, is either a sign that 
 he could not possess it, or could not maintain it. 
 
 Mr. Burke said in a speech last winter in parliament, 
 that when the National Assembly first met in three orders, {the 
 Tiers Etat, the Clergy, and the Noblesse) France had then a 
 good Cotistitution. This shews, among numerous other 
 instances, that Mr. Burke does not understand what a Con- 
 stitution is. The persons so met, were not a Constitution, 
 but a Convention, to make a Constitution. 
 
 D
 
 St RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 The present National Assembly of France is, strictly 
 speaking, the personal social compact. The members of it 
 are the delegates of the Nation, in its original character ; 
 future assemblies will be the delegates of the Nation, in its 
 organized character. The authority of the present Assem- 
 bly is different to what the authority of future Assemblies 
 will be. The authority of the present one, is to form a 
 Constitution ; the authority of future Assemblies will be to 
 legislate according to the principles and forms prescribed in 
 that Constitution ; and if experience should hereafter shew 
 that alterations, amendments, or additions, are necessary, 
 tbe Constitution will point out the mode by which such 
 things shall be done, and not leave it to the discretionary 
 power of the future Government. 
 
 A Government, on the principles on which Constitutional 
 Governments, arising out of society, are established, cannot 
 have the right of altering itself. If it had, it would be ar- 
 bitrary. It might make itself what itpleased ; and wherc- 
 ever such a right is set up, it shews there is no Constitution. 
 The act by which the English parliament empowered it- 
 self to sit for seven years, shews there is no Constitution in 
 England. It might, by the same self-authority, have sat 
 any greater number of years, or for life. The bill which 
 the present Mr. Pitt brought into parliament some years 
 ago, to reform parliament, was on the same erroneous prin- 
 ciple. The right of reform is in the Nation, in its original 
 character ; and the Constitutional method would be, by a 
 general Convention, elected for the purpose. There is, 
 moreover, a paradox in the idea of vitiated bodies reforming 
 themselves. 
 
 From these preliminaries, I proceed to draw some com- 
 parisons. I have already spoken of the Declaration of 
 Rights ; and as I mean to be as concise as possible, I shall 
 proceed to other parts of the French Constitution. 
 
 The Constitution of France says, that evert/ man who pays 
 a tax of sixty sous per annum (2s, 6d. English) is an elector. 
 
 What article will Mr. Burke place against this? Can 
 any thing be more limited, and at the same time more ca- 
 pricious, than the qualifications of electors are in England ? 
 Limited — because not one man in a hundred (I speak much 
 within compass) is admitted to vote. Capricious — because 
 the lowest character that can be supposed to exist, and who 
 has not so much as the visible means of an honest livelihood, 
 is an elector in some places ; while in other places, the man 
 who pays very large taxes, and has a known fair character; 
 and the farmer who rents to the amount of three or four 
 hundred pounds a year, with a property on that farm t«
 
 RIGHTS OP MAN. St 
 
 three or four times that sum, is not admitted to be an 
 elector. 
 
 Jvery thing is out of Nature, as Mr. Burke says on auo- 
 
 ;7 occasion, in this strange chaos, and all sorts of follies 
 are blended with ali sorts of crimes. 
 
 William the Conqueror, and his descendants, parcelled out 
 the country in this manner ; and bribed some parts of it, by 
 what they called Charters, to hold the other parts of it the 
 better subjected to their will. This is the reason why so 
 many of those Charters abound in Cornwall ; the people 
 were averse from the government established at the Con- 
 quest, and the towns were garrisoned and bribed to enslave 
 the country. All the old Charters are the badges of this 
 Conquest ; and it is from this source that the caprieiousness 
 of elections arises. 
 
 The Frencu Constitution says, that the number of repre- 
 sentatives for any place, shall be in a ratio to the number of 
 taxable inhabitants or electors. 
 
 What article will Mr, Burke place against this ? The 
 county of Yorkshire, which contains near a million of souls, 
 sends two county members ; and so does the county of Rut- 
 land, which contains not a hundredth part of that number. 
 The old town of Sarum, which contains not three houses, 
 sends two members ; and the town of Manchester, which 
 contains upwards of sixty thousand souls, is not admitted 
 to send any. Is there any principle in these things ? Is there 
 any thing by which you can trace the marks of freedom, or 
 discover those of wisdom ? No wonder then, that Mr. 
 Burke has declined the comparison, and endeavoured to 
 lead his readers from the point, by a wild unsystematical 
 display of paradoxical rhapsodies. 
 
 The French Constitution says, that the National Assembly 
 shall be elected every two years. 
 
 What article will Mr. Burke place against this? Why, 
 that the Nation has no right at ail in the case ; that the Go- 
 vernment is perfectly arbitrary with respect to this point ; 
 and he can quote for his authority the precedent of a for- 
 mer parliament. 
 
 The French Constitution says, there shall be no Game 
 Laws ; that the farmer on whose lands wild game shall be found, 
 {for it is by the produce of his lands that they are fed) shall 
 have a right to what he can take — that there shall bt no mono- 
 polies of any kind — that all trade shall be fret ; and every man 
 free to follow any occupation by which he can procure an honest 
 livelihood; and in any place, town, or city, throughout the 
 Nation. 
 
 What will Mr. Burke say to this ? In England, Game is 
 D 2
 
 SS RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 made the property of those at whose expehce it is not fed ; 
 and with respect to monopolies, the country is cut up into 
 monopolies. Every chartered town is an aristocratical mo- 
 nopoly in itself; and the qualification of electors proceeds 
 out of those chartered monopolies. Is this freedom ? Is this 
 what Mr. Burke means by a Constitution? 
 
 In these chartered monopolies, a man coming from ano- - 
 ther part of the country, is hunted from them, as if he were 
 a foreign enemy. An Englishman is not free of his own 
 country ; every one of those places presents a barrier in his 
 way, and tells him, he is not a freeman ! — that he has no 
 Rightf. 
 
 Within these monopolies, are other monopolies. In a 
 city, such for instance as Bath, which contains* between 
 twenty and thirty thousand inhabitants, the right of electing 
 representatives to parliament is monopolized by about thirty- 
 oie persons. And in these monopolies are still others. A 
 man, even of the same town, whose parents were not in 
 circumstances to give him an occupation, is debarred in 
 many cases from the natural right of acquiring one, be his 
 genius, or industry, what it may. 
 
 Are these things examples to hold out to a country re- 
 generating itself from slavery, like France ? — Certainly they 
 are not: and certain am I, that when the people of England 
 come to reflect upon them, they will, like France, annihi- 
 late those badges of ancient oppression — those traces of a 
 conquered Nation. 
 
 Had Mr. Burke possessed talents similar to the author 
 *' On the Wealth of Nations," he would have comprehended 
 all the parts which enter into it, and by assemblage form a 
 Constitution. He would have reasoned from minutiae to 
 magnitude. It is not from his prejudices only, but from 
 the disorderly cast of his genius, that he is unfitted for the 
 subject he writes upon. Even bis genius is without a Con- 
 stitution. It is a genius at random, and not a genius con- 
 stituted. But he must say something — he has therefore 
 mounted in the air, like a balloon, to draw the eyes of the 
 multitude from the ground they stand upon. 
 
 Much is to be learned from the French Constitution. 
 Conquest and tyranny transplanted themselves with William 
 the Conqueror, from Normandy into England, and the coun- 
 try is yet disfigured with the marks. May then the exam- 
 ple of all France contribute to regenerate the freedom which 
 a province of it destroyed ! 
 
 The French Constitution says, that to preserve the national 
 representation from being corrupt, no member of the National 
 Assembly shall be an officer of the Government, a placeman, or a 
 pensioner, 4
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. Si 
 
 What will Mr. Burke place against ihis ? — I will whisper 
 his answer — loaves and fishes! Ah! this Government 
 of loaves and fishes has more mischief in it than people have 
 yet reflected on. The National Assembly has made the 
 discovery, and it holds out the example to the world. Had 
 Governments agreed to quarrel, on purpose to fleece tl'eir 
 coumries by taxes, they could not have succeeded better 
 than they have done. 
 
 Many things in the English Government appear to me the 
 reverse of what they ought to be, and the reverse of what 
 they are said to be. The Parliament, imperfectly and ca- 
 priciously elected as it is, is nevertheless supposed to hold 
 the national purse in trust for the Nation : but in the 
 manner in which an English Parliament is constructed, it is 
 like a man being both mortgagor, and mortgagee ; and in 
 the case of misapplication of trust, it is the criminal sitting 
 in judgment upon himself. If those who vote the supplies 
 are the same persons who receive the supplies when voted, 
 and are to account for the expenditure of those supplies to 
 those who voted them, it is themselves accountable to them- 
 selves, and the Comedy of Errors concludes with the Panto- 
 mime of Hush. Neither the ministerial party, nor the op- 
 position, will touch upon this case. The national purse is 
 the common hack which each mounts upon. It is like what 
 the country people call, " Ride and tie — you ride a little way 
 and then I."* They order these things better in France. 
 
 The French Constitution says, that (lie right of war and 
 peace is in the Nation. 
 
 Where else should it reside, but in those who are to pay 
 the ex pence ? 
 
 In England this right is said to reside in a metaphor, shewn 
 at the Tower, for sixpence or a shilling a-piece. So are the 
 lions; and it would be a step nearer to reason, to say it re- 
 sided in them ; for any inanimate metaphor is no more than 
 a hat or a cap. We can all see the absurdity of worshipping 
 Aaron's molten calf, or Nebuchadnezzar's golden image ; 
 but why do men continue to practice in themselves the ab- 
 surdities which they despise in others? 
 
 It may with reason be said, that in the manner the Eng- 
 lish Nation is represented, it signifies not where this right 
 resides, whether in the Crown, or in Parliament. War is 
 
 * It is a prattice in some parts of the country, when two travellers hare hut 
 one horse, which, like the national purse, will not carry double, that the one mounts 
 and rides two or three miles a-head, and then ties the horse to agate, and walks on. 
 When the second traveller arrives, he tabss the horse, rides on, and pastes hie com- 
 panion a mile or two, stnd ties aguin ;—'and so on— ride and tie.
 
 35 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 the common harvest of all those who participate in the di- 
 vision and expenditure of public money, in all countries. It 
 is the art of conquering at home — the object of it is an in- 
 crease of revenue ; and as revenue cannot be increased with- 
 out taxes, a pretence must be made for expenditure. In 
 reviewing the history of the English Government, its wars, 
 and its taxes, a by-stander, not blinded by prejudice, nor 
 warped by interest, would declare, that taxes were not raised 
 to carry on wars, but that wars were raised to carry on 
 taxes. 
 
 Mr. Burke, as a Member of the House of Commons, is a 
 part of the English Government ; and though he professes 
 himself an entjmy to war, he abuses the French Constitution, 
 which seeks to explode it. He holds up the English Go- 
 vernment as a model, in all its parts, to France; but he 
 should first know the remarks which the French make upon 
 it. They contend, in favour of their own, that the portion 
 of liberty enjoyed in England, is just enough to enslave a 
 country by, more productively than by despotism ; and that 
 as the real object of all despotism is revenue, a Government so 
 formed obtains more than it could do, either by direct des- 
 potism, or in a full state of freedom ; and is therefore, on 
 the ground of interest, opposed to both. They account also 
 for the readiness which always appears in such Governments 
 for engaging in wars, by remarking on the different motives 
 which produce them. In despotic Governments, wars are 
 the effect of pride; but in those Governments in which they 
 become the means of taxation, they acquire thereby a more 
 permanent promptitude. 
 
 The French Constitution, therefore, to provide against 
 both these evils, has taken away the power of declaring war 
 from kings and ministers, and placed the right where the 
 expence must fall. 
 
 When the question on the right of war and peace was 
 agitating in the National Assembly, the people of England 
 appeared to be much interested in the event, and highly to 
 applaud the decision. — As a principle it applies as much to 
 one country as to another. William the Conqueror, as a 
 conqueror, held this power of war or peace in himself, and 
 his descendants have ever since'claimed it as a right. 
 
 Although Mr. Burke has asserted the right of parliament 
 at the Revolution, to bind and controul the Nation, and pos- 
 terity, for ever; he denies, at the same time, that the Par- 
 liament, or the Nation, had any right to alter what he calls 
 the succession of the crown, in any thing but in part, or by 
 a sort of modification. By his taking this ground, he throws 
 the case back to the Norman Conquest ; and by thus run-
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 35 
 
 ning a line of succession springing from William the Con- 
 queror to the present day, he makes it necessary to enquire 
 who and what Willtam the Conqueror was, and where he 
 came from ; and into the origin, history, and nature of what 
 are called prerogatives. Every thing must have had a be- 
 ginning, and the fog of time and antiquity should be pe- 
 netrated to discover it. Let then Mr. Burke bring forward 
 his William of Normandy, for it is to this origin that his 
 argument goes. It also unfortunately happens, in running 
 this line of succession, that another line, parallel thereto, 
 presents itself; which is — that if the succession runs in the 
 line of the Conquest, the Nation runs in the line of being 
 conquered, and it ought to rescue itself from this reproach. 
 
 But it will perhaps be said, that though the power of 
 declaring war descends in the heritage of the Conquest, it 
 is held in check by the right of the Parliament to withhold 
 the supplies. It will always happen, when a thing is ori- 
 ginally wrong, that amendments do not make it right; and 
 it often happens, that they do as much mischief one way as 
 good the other ; and such is the case here. For, if the one 
 rashly declares war, asa matterof right, and the other peremp- 
 torily withholds the supplies as a matter of right, the remedy 
 becomes as bad, or worse than the disease. The one forces 
 the Nation to a combat, and the other ties its hands; but 
 the more probable issue is, that the contest will end in a 
 collusion between the parties, and be made a screen to both. 
 
 On this question of war, three things are to be considered : 
 
 First, The right of declaring it. 
 
 Secondly, The expence of supporting it. 
 
 Thirdly, The mode of conducting it after it is declared. 
 
 The French Constitution places the right where the*er- 
 pence must fall ; and this union can only be in the Nation. 
 The mode of conducting it after it is declared, it consigns 
 to the executive department. Were this the case in all 
 countries, we should hear but little more of wars. 
 
 Before I proceed to consider other parts of the French 
 Constitution, and by way of relieving the fatigue of argu- 
 ment, I will introduce an anecdote, which I had from Dr. 
 Franklin. 
 
 While the Doctor resided in France, as minister from 
 America during the war, he had numerous proposals made 
 to him by projectors of every country, and of every kind, 
 who wished to go to the land that floweth with milk and 
 honey, America ; and amongst the rest, there was one who 
 offered himself to be King. He introduced his proposal to 
 the Doctor by a letter, which is now in the hands of M. 
 Beauraarchais, of Parii— -stating first, that as the Americans
 
 37 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 had dismissed, or sent away* their King, they would 
 want another. Secondly, that himself was a Norman. 
 Thirdly, that he was of a more ancient family than the 
 Dukes of Normandy, and of a more honourable descent, his 
 line never having been bastardised. Fourthly, that there 
 was already a precedent in England of Kings coming out of 
 Normandy : and on these grounds he rested his offer, enjoin- 
 ing that the Doctor would forward it to America. But as 
 the Doctor did not do this, nor yet send him an answer, the 
 projector wrote a second letter; in which he did not, it is 
 true, threaten to go over and conquer America, but only 
 with great dignity proposed, that if his offer was not ac- 
 cepted, an acknowledgment of about thirty thousand pounds 
 might be made to him for his generosity ! 
 
 Now, as all arguments respecting succession, must neces- 
 sarily connect that succession with some beginning, Mr. 
 Burke's arguments on this subject go to shew, that there is 
 no English origin of Kings ; and that they are descendants 
 of the Norman Line, in right of the Conquest. It may, 
 therefore, be of service to his doctrine to make this story 
 known ; and to inform him, that in case of that natural ex- 
 tinction to which all mortality is subject, Kings may again 
 be had from Normandy, on more reasonable terms than Wil- 
 liam the Conqueror ; and consequently, that the good peo- 
 ple of England, at the Revolution of 1688, might have done 
 muck better had such a generous Norman as this known their 
 wants, and they had known his. The chivalry character 
 which Mr. Burke so much admires, is certainly much easier 
 to make a bargain with than a hard-dealing Dutchman.-— 
 But to return to tha matters of the Constitution. 
 
 The French constitution says, There shall be no titles: 
 and, of consequence, all that class of equivocal generation, 
 which in some countries is called " aristocracy " and in others 
 " nobility" is done away, and the peer is exalted into the 
 
 MAN. x 
 
 Titles are but nick-names, and every nick-name is a titte. 
 The thing is perfectly harmless in itself; but it marks a sort 
 of foppery in the human character that degrades it. It re- 
 duces man into the diminutive of man, in things which are 
 great ; and into the counterfeit of woman, in things which 
 are little. It talks about its fine blue ribbon like a girl, and 
 shews its new garter like a child. A certain writer of some 
 antiquity says — ** IVhen 1 was a child, I thought as a child; 
 but when I became a man, I put away tkildish tilings." 
 
 * The word he used was rencoyc— dismissed, or sent aw*y.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAW. 3S 
 
 It is, properly, from the elevated mind of France,"that the 
 folly of titles has fallen. It has outgrown the baby clothes 
 of Count and Duke, and' breeched itself into manhood. 
 France has not levelled — it has exalted. It has put down the 
 dwarf, to set up the man. The puny ism of a senseless word, 
 like Duke, or Count, or Earl, has ceased to please. Even 
 those who possessed them have disowned the gibberish, and 
 as they outgrew the rickets, have despised the rattle. The 
 genuine mind of man, thirsting for its native home, society, 
 contemns the gew-gaws that separate him from it. Titles 
 are like circles drawn by the magician's wand, to contract 
 the sphere of man's felicity. He lives immured within the 
 Bastille of a word, and surveys at a distance the envied life 
 of man. 
 
 Is it then any wonder that titles should fall in France ? Is 
 it not a greater wonder they should be kept up any where ? £ 
 What are they? What is their worth, "and what is their / 
 amount ?" 
 
 When we think or speak of a Judge, or a General, we as- 
 sociate with it the ideas of office and character; we think of 
 gravity in the one, and bravery in the other : but when we 
 use a word merely as a title, no ideas associate with it. 
 Through all the vocabulary of Adam, there is not such an 
 animal as a Duke or a Count; neither can we connect any 
 certain ideas with the words. Whether they mean strength, 
 or weakness; wisdom, or folly; a child, or a man; or the 
 rider, or the horse ; is all equivocal. What respect then 
 can be paid to that which describes nothing, and which 
 means nothing ? Imagination has given figure and character 
 to centaurs, satyrs, and down to all the fairy tribe ; but titles 
 baffle even the powers of fancy, and are a chimerical non- 
 descript. 
 
 But this is not all. If a whole country is disposed to hold 
 them in contempt, all their value is gone, and none will own 
 them. It is common opinion only that makes them any 
 thing, or nothing, or worse than nothing. There is no oc- 
 casion to take titles away, for they take themselves away 
 when society concurs to ridicule them. This species of 
 imaginary consequence has visibly declined in every part of 
 Europe, and it hastens to its exit as the world of reason 
 continues to rise. There was a time when the iowest class 
 of what are called nobility was more thought of than the 
 highest is now ; and when a man in armour, riding through- 
 out Christendom in quest of adventures, was more stared at 
 than a modern Duke. The world has seen this folly fall, 
 and it has fallen by being laughed at, and the farce of titles 
 will follow its fate. The patriots of France have discovered 
 
 300959
 
 39 RIGHTS OF MAX. 
 
 in good time, that rank and dignity in society must take a 
 new ground. The old one has fallen through. It must now 
 take the substantial ground of character, instead of the 
 chimerical ground of titles; and they have brought their 
 titles to the altar, and made of them a burnt-offering to 
 Reason. 
 
 If no mischief had annexed itself to the folly of titles, they 
 would not have been worth a serious and formal destruction, 
 such as the National Assembly has decreed them ; and this 
 makes it necessary to enquire farther into the nature and 
 character of Aristocracy. 
 
 That then which is called Aristocracy in some countries, 
 and Nobility in others, arose out of the Governments founded 
 in conquest. It was originally a military order, for the pur- 
 pose of supporting military Government (for such were all 
 Governments founded upon conquest) ; and to keep a 
 succession of this order for the purpose for which it was 
 established, all the younger branches of those families were 
 disinherited, and the law of primogenitureship set up. 
 
 The nature and character of Aristocracy shews itself to us 
 in this law. It is a law against every law of Nature, and 
 Nature herself calls for its destruction. Establish family 
 justice, and Aristocracy falls. By the aristocratical law of 
 primogenitureship, in a family of sixchildren, five are ex- 
 posed. Aristocracy has never more than one child. The 
 rest are begotten to be devoured. They are thrown to theca- 
 nibal for prey, and the natural parent prepares the unnatural 
 repast. 
 
 As every thing which is out of Nature in man, affects 
 more or les6 the interest of society, so does this. All the 
 children which the Aristocracy disown (which are all except 
 the eldest) are in general, cast like orphans upon a parish, 
 to be provided for by the public, but at a greater charge. 
 Unnecessary offices and places, in Governments and Courts, 
 are created at the expence of the public, to maintain them. 
 
 With what kind of parental reflections can the father or 
 mother contemplate their younger offspring? By Nature 
 they are children, and by Marriage they are heirs; but by 
 Aristocracy they are bastards and orphans. They are the 
 flesh and blood of their parents in one line, and nothing akin 
 to them in»the other. To restore, therefore, parents to their 
 children, and children to their parents — relations to each 
 other, and man to society — and to exterminate the monster> 
 Aristocracy, root and branch, the French Constitution has 
 destroyed the law of Pjumogenitukeship. Here then 
 lies the mouster, and Mr. Burke, if he pleases, may write its 
 epitaph.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAM. 40 
 
 Hitherto we have considered Aristocracy chiefly in one 
 point of view. We have now to consider it in another. 
 But whether we view it before, or behind, or any way else, 
 domestically or publicly, it is still a monster. 
 
 In France, Aristocracy had one feature Ies3 in its coun- 
 tenance, than what it has in some other countries. It did 
 not compose a body of hereditary legislators. It was not a 
 " Corporation of Aristocracy" for such I have heard M. de 
 la Fayette describe an English House of Peers. Let us 
 then examine the grounds upon which the French Consti- 
 tution has resolved against having such an House in France. 
 Because, in, the first place, as is already mentioned, Aris- 
 tocracy is kept up by family tyranny and injustice. 
 
 Secondly, Because there is an unnatural unfitness in Aris- 
 tocracy to be legislators for a Nation. Their ideas of dis- 
 tributive justice are corrupted at the very source. Thiey 
 begin life by trampling on all .their younger brothers and 
 sisters, and relations of every kind, and are taught and edu- 
 cated so to do. With what ideas of justice and honour can 
 that man enter an house of legislation, who absorbs in bis 
 own person the inheritance of a whole family of children, or 
 doles out to them some pitiful portion with the insolence of 
 a gift ? 
 
 Thirdly, Because the idea of hereditary legislators is as 
 inconsistent as that of hereditary judges, or hereditaryju- 
 ries ; and as absurd, as an hereditary mathematician, or an 
 hereditary wise man: and as ridiculous, as an hereditary 
 poet-laureat. 
 
 Fourthly, Because a body of men holding themselves ac- 
 countable to nobody, ought not to be trusted by any body. 
 
 Fifthly, Because it is continuing the uncivilized principle 
 of Governments founded in Conquest, and the base idea of 
 man having a property, in man, and governing him by per- 
 sonal right. r 
 
 Sixthly, Because Aristocracy has a tendency to degene- 
 rate the human species. By the universal economy of Na- 
 ture it is known, and by the instance of the Jews it is proved, 
 that the human species has a tendency to degenerate, in any 
 smail number of persons, when separated from the general 
 stock of society, and intermairying constantly with each 
 other. It defeats ev< n as pretended end, and becomes in 
 time the opposite of what is noble in Man. 
 • Mr. Burke talks of Nobility, let him shew what it is. The 
 greatest characters the world has known, have arisen on the 
 democratic floor. Aristocracy has not been able to keep a 
 proportionate pace with democracy. The artificial Noble 
 shrinks into a dwarf before the Noble of Nature; and in
 
 41 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 v 
 
 the few instances of those (for there are some in all coun- 
 tries) in whom Nature, a9 by a miracle, has survived in Aris- 
 tocracy, those men despise it. — But it is time to pro- 
 ceed to a new subject. 
 
 The French Constitution has reformed the condition of the 
 Clergy. It has raised the income of the lower and middle 
 classes, and taken from the higher. None are now less than 
 twelve hundred livres (fifty pounds sterling), nor any higher 
 than about two or three thousand pounds. 
 
 What will Mr. Burke place against this ? Hear what he 
 says : 
 
 " That the people of England can see, without pain or grudg- 
 ing, an Archbishop precede a Duke ; they can see a Bishop of 
 Durham, or a Bishop of Winchester, in possession of ten thou- 
 sand pounds a year ; and cannot see why tfc is in worse hands, 
 than estates to the like amount in the hands of this earl, or that 
 squire" 
 
 And Mr. Burke offers this as an example to France. 
 
 As to the first part, whether the Archbishop precedes 
 the Duke, or the Duke the Archbishop, it is, I believe, 
 to the people in general, somewhat like Stemhold and 
 Hopkins, or Hopkins and Stemhold. You may put which you 
 please first: and as I confess that I do not understand the 
 merits of the case, I will not contend it with Mr. Burke. 
 
 But with respect to the latter, I have something to 
 say. — Mr. Burke has not put the case right. — The com- 
 parison is out of order, by being put between the Bi- 
 shop and the Earl or the Squire. It ought to be put 
 between the Bishop and the Curate, and then it will 
 stand thus : — 
 
 " The people of England can see, without pain or grudging, 
 a Bishop of Durham or a Bishop of Winchester, in possession 
 often thousand pounds a year, ana a curate on thirty or forty 
 pounds a year, or less." 
 
 No, Sir, they certainly do not see these things without 
 great pain and grudging. It is a case that applies itself 
 to every man's sense of justice ; and is one, among many 
 that calls aloud for a Constitution. 
 
 In France the cry of " the church I the church /" was 
 repeated as often as in Mr. Burke's book ; and as loudly as 
 when the Dissenter's bill was before the English parliament; 
 but the generality of the French Cltrgy were not to be de- 
 ceived by this cry any longer. They knew, that whatever 
 the pretence might be, it was themselves who were the 
 principal objects of it. It was the cry of the high beneficed 
 clergy, to prevent any regulation of income taking place 
 between those of ten thousand pounds a year, and the parish
 
 RKLHTS DP'JUI. «J> 
 
 priest. They therefore joined their cause to those of every 
 other oppressed class of men, and by this union obtained 
 redess. " vin 
 
 The French Constitution has abolished Tgthes ; that source 
 of perpetual discontent between the tytheditrider and the 
 parishioner. nctt 
 
 When land is held on tythe it is in the condition of an 
 estate held between two parties ; the one receiving one 
 tenth, and the other nine tenths of the produce; and, con- 
 sequently, on principles of equity, if the estate can be im- 
 proved, aud made to produce by that improvement, double 
 or treble what it did before, or in any other ratio, the ex- 
 pellee of such improvement ought to be borne in like pro- 
 portion between the parties who are to share the produce. 
 But this is not the case in ty thes ; the farmer bears the whole 
 expeuce, and the tythe-holder takes a tenth of the improve- 
 ment, in addition to the original tenth ; and by this means, 
 gets the value of two tenths instead af of one. This i£ too- 
 ther case that calls for a Constitution. 
 
 The French Constitution hath aboHshsd, or rtnonnced to- 
 L E>» A t i o N, and I N r o L Ett v t i o n also : and' hath established 
 
 UNIVERSAL RIGHT OF CONSCIENCE f ihW 
 
 Toleration is not the opposite of Intolena'tioti, but bh-e etfwatw 
 terfeit of it. Both nre despotisms. The one assumes to it- 
 self the right of withholding Liberty of Conscience, and th# 
 •ther of granting it. ^be one is the Pope armed.' with fire 
 and faggot, and the other is the Pope, selling or granting* 
 indulgencies. The former is church and state, and the -lat- 
 ter is church and traffic. 
 
 But Toleration may be viewed in a much stronger light. 
 Man worships not himself, but his Maker ; and the liberty 
 of conscience which he claims, is not for the service of hm»- 
 self, but of his God. In this case, therefore, we ittust he^ 
 cessarily have the associated ideas of two beingfc; th*. inortaf- 
 who renders the worship, and the immortal being who 
 is worshipped. Toleration, therefore, places itself, not be- 
 tween man and man, nor between church and church, nor 
 between one denomination of religion and another, but be- 
 tween God and man — between the being who worships, and 
 and the being who is worshipped'; am] by- the stune a<t «>t 
 assumed authority by which it telerjte.8 m;tn to pay hi* Wor- 
 ship, it presumptuously aud blasphemously sets itself up 'o 
 tolerate the Almighty t*> receive it/If m 9\a i iA 
 
 Were a bill brought into any parliament, c-ntitled, *' J>i 
 met to tolerate or gru/it liberty lo (In Jtiwqhttf. (o HfMffltoil
 
 43 sights op uas. 
 
 worship of a Jew, or a Turk" or " to prohibit the Almighty 
 from receiving if," all men would startle, and call it blasphe- 
 my. There would be an uproar.* The presumption of to- 
 leration in religious matters would then present itself un- 
 masked : but the piesumption is not the loss because the 
 name of* man" only appears to those laws, for the associat- 
 ed idea of the worshipper and the worshipped cannot be sepa- 
 rated. — Who, then, art thou, vain dust and ashes! by what- 
 ever name thou art called, whether a king, a bishop, a 
 church, or a state, a parliament, or any thintj else, that ob- 
 trudest thine insignificance between the soul of man and his 
 Maker? Mind thine own concerns. If he believes not as 
 thou believest, it is a proof that thou believest not as he be- 
 lieveth, and there is no earthly power can determine be- 
 tween you. 
 
 With respect to what are called denomination* of religion, 
 if every one is left to judge of his own religion, there is no 
 such thing as religion that is wrong ; but if they are to judge 
 of each other's religion, there is no such thing as a religion 
 that is right; and, therefore, all the world are right, or all 
 the world are wrong. But with respect to religion itself, 
 without regard to names, and as directing itself from the 
 universal family of mankind to the divine object of ail ador- 
 ation, it is man bringing to his Maker the fruits of his heart ; 
 and though these fruits may differ from each other, like the 
 fruits of the earth, the grateful tribute of every one is ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 A bishop of Durham or a bishop of Winchester, or the 
 archbishop who heads the Dukes, will not refuse a tythe- 
 sheaf of wheat, because it is not a cock of hay ; nor acock 
 of hay, because it is not a sheaf of wheat ; nor a pig, because 
 it is neither the one nor the other. But these same persons, 
 under the figure of an established church, will not permit 
 their Maker to receive the varied tithes of man's devotion. 
 
 One of the continual choruses of Mr. Burke's book is 
 ■■ Church and state;" he does not mean some one particular 
 church, or some one particular state, but any church and 
 state ; and he uses the term as a general figure to hold forth 
 the political doctrine of always uniting the church with the 
 state inevery country, and he censures the National Assembly 
 for not having clone this in France. Let us bestow a few* 
 thoughts on this subject. 
 
 Ail religious are in their nature mild and benign, and 
 united with principles of morality. They could not have 
 made proselytes at ftm, by professing any thing that waa
 
 RIGHT* OF 3IAN. 44 
 
 vicious, cruel, persecuting, or immoral. Like every thing 
 else, they had their beginning ; and they proceeded by per- 
 suasion, exhortation, and example. How then is it that 
 they lose their native mildness, and become morose and in- 
 tolerant ? 
 
 It proceeds from the connection which Mr. Burke recom- 
 mends. By engendering the church with the state, a sort of 
 mule animal, capable only of destroy ing T and not of breed- 
 ing up, is produced, called, The Church ettablished by Law. 
 It is a stranger, even from its birth, to any parent mother on 
 which it is begotten, and whom in time it kicks out and 
 destroys. 
 
 The Inquisition in Spain does not proceed from the reli- 
 gion originally professed, but from this mule animal, en- 
 gendered between the church and the state. The burnings 
 in Smithfield proceeded from the same heterogenous pro- 
 duction ; and it was the regeneration of this strange animal 
 in England afterwards, that renewed rancour and irreligion 
 among the inhabitants, and that drove the people called 
 quakers and dissenters to America. Persecution is not an 
 original feature in any religion ; but it is always the strong- 
 ly-marked feature of all law-religions, or religions estab- 
 lished by law. Take away the law-establishment, and 
 every religion re-assumes its original benignity. In America, 
 a catholic priest is a good citizen, a good character, and a 
 good neighbour; an episcopalian minister is of the same de- 
 scription : and this proceeds, independent of men, from 
 their being no law-establishment in America. 
 
 If also we view this matter in a temporal sense, we shall 
 see the ill effects it has had on the prosperity of nations. 
 The union of church and state has impoverished Spain. The 
 revoking the edict of Nantz drove the silk manufacture from 
 that country into England ; and church and state are now 
 driving the cotton manufacture from England to America 
 and France. Let then Mr. Burke continue to preach his 
 anti-political doctrine of church and state. It will do some 
 good. The National Assembly will not follow his advice, 
 but will benefit by his folly. It was by observing the ill 
 effects of it in England, that America has been warned 
 against it ; and it is by experiencing them in France, that 
 the National Assembly have abolished it, and, like America, 
 has established UNIVERSAL RIGHT OF CONSCIENCE, 
 AND UNIVERSAL RIGHT OF CITIZENSHIP.* 
 
 * When in any country we see extraordinary circumstances 
 
 I
 
 45 KTCtt**f 0? if A*. 
 
 I will here cense the comparison with respect to the priti- 
 ciphs of the French Constitution, and conclude this part of 
 the subject with a few observation* on the organization of 
 live formal parts of the French and English Governments. 
 
 The executive power in each country is in the hands ofa 
 person, styled, the King; but the Trench Constitution dis- 
 tinguishes between the King and the Sovereign. It considers 
 the station of King official, and places Sovereignty in the 
 Nation. 
 
 , - i J , 
 
 taking place, they naturally lead any mon who lias talent for obser- 
 vation and investigation, to enquire into the causes. The manufac- 
 tures of Manchester. Birmingham, and Sheffield, are the most 
 principal manufactures i^i (England, From whence did this arise ? 
 A littie observation will explain the case. The priucipaJ, and the 
 generality of tiie iuliabitants pf tb.e^e places, are not of what is call- 
 ed in England, the church established by law; and they, or their 
 fathers (for it is within but a few year,*) withdrew from the persecu- 
 tion of chartered towns, where te.-t-lawg more particularly operate, 
 and established a sort of as\ ium foj- themselves in those place*. H 
 was the only asylum that then offend, for the rest of Europe w»* 
 worse. But the ea«e is now changing. France and America bid 
 «1l comers welcome^ attAilnitiate them into all the rights of citizen- 
 ship. Policy and interest, therefore, will, but perhaps too late, 
 dictate in England, ■whnt reason and justice oould not. These 
 manufactures are, withdrawing, and are arising in other places. 
 T#ere is iiow erecting at Passey, three miles from Paris, a large 
 Cotton mill, and several are already erected in America. .Soon 
 after the rejecting the bill for repealing the test-law, one of the 
 richest manufacturers 'in England said in my hearing, (i England, 
 Sir, is not a country for a dissenter to live in— we must go to 
 France." These are "i ruths, and. it is doing justice to both partie* 
 to tell them. It is chiefly the dissenters that have carried English 
 intmu fact tires to the height ttoey are now at, an d the same men 
 have it in tbeil- power to cany them away ; and though those tutt- 
 uufaetims would afterward* continue to be made in those places, 
 the foreign market -w^uld be lost. There are frequently appearing in 
 tlie London Gaettte, extracts from certain acts to prevent machines, 
 and as far as it can extend, to peri-ons from going out of the coun- 
 try. It appears from these, that the ill effects of the te-t-laws aiid 
 church establishment-begin to be much suspected ; but the remedy 
 <<f force ran neWi supply the remedy of reason'. In the pv« gre& 
 • f le-s 'ban a century, all the unrfcpirsent ed part of England, of all 
 denominations, whi< bis at lenst a hundred times the most irume#- 
 ous may begin to feel the necessity of a Constitution, and then all 
 those matter* will eerae negirlar4y before them. 
 
 London : Printed and Published by W. T. Sherwin, No. 183, 
 licet Street. All communications to be addressed in future to 
 No. fi, Lower Smith Street, Northampton Squave. All orders t« 
 arrive on the Friday preceding the day of publication.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 45 
 
 The representatives of the Nation, which compose the 
 National Assembly, and who are the legislative power, ori- 
 ginate in, and from the People by election, as an inherent 
 right in the People. In England it is otherwise ; and this 
 arises from the original establishment of what is called its 
 monarchy ; for, as by the conquest, all the rights of the 
 People, vr the Nation were absorbed into the hands of the 
 conqueror, and who added the title of king to that of con- 
 queror, those same matters which in France are now held as 
 rights in the People, or in the Nation, are held in England as 
 grants from what is called the crown. The Parliament in 
 England, in both its branches, was erected by patents from 
 the descendants of the conqueror. The House of Commons 
 did not originate as a matter of right in the People, to dele- 
 gate or elect, but as a grant or boon. 
 
 By the French Constitution, the Nation is always named 
 before the King. The third article of the Declaration of 
 11 ghts says, " The Nation is essentially the source (or fountain) 
 of nil sovereignty ." Mr. Burke argues, that, in England, a 
 King is the fountain — that he is the fountain of all honour. 
 But as this idea is evidently descended from the conquest, 
 I shall make no other remark upon it than that it is the na- 
 ture of conquest to turn every thing upside down; and as 
 Mr. Burke will not be refused the privilege of speaking 
 twice, and as there are but two parts in the figure, \\\e foun- 
 tain and the spout, he will be right the second time. 
 
 The French Constitution puts the legislative before the 
 executive; the law before the King; La lot le rot. This 
 also is in the natural order of things ; because Jaws must 
 have existence, before they can have execution. 
 
 A King in France does not, in addressing himself teethe 
 National Assembly, say, " my Assembly," similar to trie 
 phrase used in England, of " my Parliament;" neither can 
 he use it consistently with the Constitution, nor could it be 
 admitted. There mny be propriety in the use of it in Eng- 
 land, because, as is before mentioned, both Houses of Par- 
 liament originated out of what is called the Crown, by patent 
 or boon — and not out of the inherent rights of the People, 
 as the Natinnal Assembly dues m France, and whose uame 
 designates its origin. 
 
 The President of the National Assembly doe* not ask the 
 King to grant to the Assembly the liberty of sjx-;ch t as is the 
 case with the English House of Commons. The Constitu- 
 tional dignity of the National Assembly cannot debase itself. 
 Speech is, in the first place, one of the. Natural Rights of Mac
 
 47 RIGHTS OP MAK, 
 
 always retained ; and with respect to the National Assem- 
 bly, the use of it is their duty, and the Nation is their autho- 
 rity. They were elected by the greatest body of men exer- 
 cising the right of election the European world ever saw. 
 They sprung not from the filth of rotten-boroughs, nor are 
 they the vassal representatives of aristocratical ones. ' Feel- 
 ing the proper dignity of their character, they support it. 
 Their parliamentary language, whether for, or against a ques- 
 tion, is free, bold, aud manly, ami extends to all the part* 
 and circumstances of the c«3e. If any matter or subject re- 
 specting the executive department, or the person who pre- 
 sides in it (the King), conies before them, it is debated 
 with the spirit of men, and the language of gentlemen ; and 
 their answer, or their address, is returned in the same style. 
 They stand not aloof with the gaping vacuity of vulgar ig- 
 norance, nor bend with the cringe of sycophantic insignifi- 
 cance. The graceful pride of truth knows noextremes, and 
 preserves, in evcry'latitude of life, the right-angled charac- 
 ter of Man. 
 
 Let us now look fo the other side of the question. In the 
 addresses of the English Parliaments to their Kings, we sec 
 neither The. intrepid spirit bf the old Parliaments of France, 
 nor the serene dignity of the present National Assembly : 
 neither do we see in them any thing of the style of English 
 manners, which borders somewhat on bluntness. Since 
 then they are neither of foreign extraction, nor naturally of 
 F-nglish production, their origin must be sought for else- 
 where, and that origin is the Norman Conquest. They are 
 evidently of the vassalage class of manners, and emphatical- 
 ly mark the prostrate difference that exists in no other con- 
 dition of men than between the conqueror and the conquer- 
 ed. That this vassalage idea and style of speaking was not 
 got rid of, even at the Revolution of 1(388, is evident from 
 the declaration of Parliament, to William and Mary, in 
 these words: M We do most humbly and faithfully submit 
 " ourselves, our heirs, and posterity for ever." Submission 
 is wholly a vassalage term, repugnant to the dignity of free- 
 dom, and an echo of the language used at the conquest. 
 
 As the estimation of all things is- by comparison, the Re* 
 volution of 16S8, however from circumstances it may have 
 beeu-exalted above its value, will find its level. It is already 
 on the wane, eclipsed by the enlarging orb of reason, and 
 the luminous Revolutions of America and France. In less 
 than another century, it will go, as well its Mr. Burke's 
 4oi)ours, " to the family vault of all the Capulets." Mankind
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 4S 
 
 will then scarcely believe that a country calling itself free * 
 would send to Holland for a man, and clothe him with pow- 
 er, on purpose to put themselves in fear of him, and pive 
 him almost a million sterling a-year for leave to submit 
 themselves and their posterity, like bond-men and bond- 
 women, for ever. 
 
 But there is a truth that ought to be made known. I 
 have had the opportunity of seeing it, which is, thai not- 
 idthiianding appearances, there is not any description of men 
 that despise monarchy so much as courtiers. But they well 
 know, that if it were seen by Cthers, as it is seen by them, 
 the juggle could not be kept up. They are in the condition 
 of men who get their living by a show, and to whom the 
 folly of that show is so familiar that they ridicule it; but; 
 were the audience to be made as wise, in this respect, as 
 themselves, there would be an end to the show and the pro- 
 fits with it. The difference between a Republican and a 
 Courtier with respect to monarchy, is, that the one opposes 
 monarchy, believing it to be something, and the other laughs 
 at it, knowing it to he nothing. 
 
 As I used sometimes to correspond with Mr.Burke, believ- 
 ing him then to be a man of sounder principles than his boolc 
 shews bim to be, I wrote to him last winter from Paris, 
 and gave him an account how prosperously matters were 
 goihgon. Among other subjects in that letter, I referred to 
 the happy situation the National Assembly were placed in; 
 that they had taken aground on which their moral duty and 
 their political interest were united. They have not to hold 
 out a language which they do not believe, for the fraudulent 
 purpose of making others believe ^. Their station requires 
 no artifice to support it, and can only be maintained by en- 
 lightening mankind. It is not their interest to cherish ig- 
 norance, but to dispel it- They are not in the case of a 
 ministerial or an opposition party in England, who, though 
 they are opposed, are still united to keep up the common 
 mystery. The National Assembly must throw open a ma- 
 gazine of light. It must shew Man the proper character of 
 Man ; and the nearer it can bring him to that standard, the 
 stronger the National Assembly becomes. 
 
 In contemplating the French Constitution, we see in it a 
 rational order of things. The principles harmonise with 
 the forms, and both with their origin. It may perhaps be said 
 as an excuse for bad forms, that they are nothing more than 
 forms ; but this is a mistake. Forms grow out of principles, 
 and operate to continue the principles they g r0 vv from. It
 
 49 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 is impossible to practice a bad form on any thing but a bad 
 principle. It cannot be ingrafted on a good one : and where- 
 ever the forms in any government are bad, it is a certain in- 
 dication that the principles are bad also. 
 
 I will here finally close this subject. I began it by re- 
 marking that Mr. Burke had voluntarily declined going into 
 a comparison of the Fnglish and French Constitutions. He 
 apologizes (in page 241) for not doing it, by saying that he 
 had not time. Mr. Burke's book was upwards of eight 
 months in hand, and it extended to a volume of three hun- 
 dred and fifty-six pages. As his omission does injury to his 
 cause his apology makes it worse ; and men on the English 
 side of the water will begin to consider, whether there is not 
 some radical defect in what is called the English Constitu- 
 tion, that made it necessary in Mr. Burke to suppress the 
 comparison, to avoid bringing it into view. 
 
 As Mr. Burke has not written on Constitutions, so neither 
 has he written on the French Revolution. lie gives no ac- 
 count of its commencement or its progress. lie only ex- 
 presses his wonder. " It looks," says he, " to me as if I 
 " were in a great crisis, not of the affairs of FYance alone, but 
 " of all Europe, perhaps of more than Europe. All circum- 
 " stances taken together, the French Revolution is the most 
 4< astonishing that has hitherto happened in the world." 
 
 As wise men are astonished at foolish things, and other 
 people at wise ones, I know not on which ground to account 
 for Mr. Burke's astonishment ; but certain it is that he does 
 not understand the French Revolution. It has apparently 
 hurst forth like a creation from a chaos, but it is no more 
 than the consequence of a mental Revolution priorily exist- 
 ing in France. The mind of the Nation had changed before 
 hand, and the new order of things has naturally followed the 
 new order of thoughts. — I will here, as concisely as I can, 
 trace out the growth of the French Revolution, and mark 
 the circumstances that have contributed to produce it. 
 
 The despotism of Louis XIV. united with the gaiety of 
 his Court, and gaudy ostentation of his character, had so 
 humbled, and at the same time, so fascinated the mind of 
 F" ranee that the People appear to have lost all sense of their 
 own dignity, in contemplating that of their grand monarch. 
 And the whole reign of Louis XV. remarkable only for weak- 
 ness and effeminacy, made no other alteration than that of 
 spreading a sort of lethargy over the Nation, from which it 
 shewed no disposition to rise. 
 
 The only signs whichappeared of the spiiitof liberty during
 
 RIGHTS OF MAX. 6d 
 
 taose periods, are to be found in the writings of the French 
 Philosophers. Montesquieu, President of the Parliament of 
 Bourdeaux, went as far as a writer under a despotic Go- 
 vernment, could well proceed; and bein^ obliged to divide 
 himself between principle and prudence, lus mind often ap- 
 pears under a veil, and we ought to give him credit for 
 more than he has expressed. 
 
 Voltaire, who was both the flatterer and the satirist 6F 
 despotism, took another line. His forte lay in exposing and 
 ridiculing the superstitions which priest-craft united with 
 state-craft had interwoven with Governments. It was not 
 from the purity of his principles, or his love of mankind (for 
 satire and philanthropy are not naturally concordant), but 
 from his strong capacity of seeing Folly in its true shape, 
 and his irresistible propensity to expose it, that he made 
 those attacks. They were, however, as formidable as if the 
 motives had been virtuous; and he merits the thanks rather 
 than the esteem of mankind, 
 
 On the contrary, we find in the writings of Rousseau and 
 the Abbe Raynal.a loveliness of sentiment in favour of liberty, 
 that excites respect, and elevates the human faculties; vet 
 having raised this animation, they do not direct its opera- 
 tions, but leave the mind in love with an object, without de- 
 scribing the means of possessing it. 
 
 The writings of Quisne, Turgot, and the friends of those 
 authors, are of a serious kind ; but they laboured under the 
 same disadvantage with Montesquieu ; their writings abound 
 with moral maxims of Government, but are rather directed 
 to economise and reform the Administration of the Govern- 
 ment, than the Governmont itself. 
 
 But all those writings, and many others, bad their weight ; 
 and by the different manner in which they treated the sub- 
 ject of Government, Montesquieu, by his judgment and 
 knowledge of laws, Voltaire by his wit, Rousseau and Ray- 
 nal by their animation, and Quisne and Turgot by their 
 moral maxims and systems of economy, readers of every class 
 met with something to their taste, and a spirit of political 
 enquiry began to diffuse itself through the Nation at the 
 time the dispute between England and the then col*dhies of 
 America broke out. 
 
 In the war which France afterwards engaged in, it is very 
 well known that the Nation appeared to be before-hand 
 with the French Ministry. Each of them had its' view. But 
 those views were directed to different objects ; the/one 
 sought liberty, and the other retaliation on England. Th»
 
 51 RIGHTS OF MAK. 
 
 French officers and soldiers who, after this, went to Ame- 
 rica, were eventually placed in the school of freedom, and 
 learned the practice, as well as the principles of it by 
 heart. 
 
 As it was impossible to separate the military events which 
 took place in America from the principles of the American 
 Revolution, the publication of those events in France, neces- 
 sarily connected themselves with the principles that pro- 
 duced them. Many of the facts were in themselves prin- 
 ciples; such as the Declaration of American Independence, 
 and the treaty of alliance between France and America, 
 which recognized the Natural Flights of Man, and justified 
 resistance to oppression. 
 
 The then Minister of France, Count Vergennes, was not 
 the friend of America; and it is both justice and gratitude to 
 say, that it was the Queen of France who gave the cause of 
 America a fashion at the French Court. Count Vergennes 
 was the personal and social friend of Doctor Franklin ; and 
 the Doctor had obtained, by his sensible gracefulness, a sort 
 of influence over him: but with respect to principles Count 
 Vergennes was a despot. 
 
 The situation of Dr. Franklin as Minister from America 
 to Fiance should betaken into the chain of circumstances. 
 The diplomatic character is of itself the narrowest sphere of 
 society that man can act in* It forbids intercourse by a re- 
 ciprocity of suspicion ; and a diplomatic is a sort of uncon- 
 nected atom, continually repelling and repelled. But this 
 was not the case with Dr. Franklin. He was not the diplo- 
 matic of a Court, but of MAN. His character as a philoso- 
 pher had been long established, and his circle of society in 
 France was universal. 
 
 Count Vergennes resisted, for a considerable time, the 
 publication of the American Constitutions in France,translated 
 into the French language; but even in this he was obliged 
 to give way to the public opinion, and a sort of propriety in 
 admitting to appear what he had undertaken to defend. 
 The American Constitutions were to liberty what grammar 
 is to language. They define its parts of speech, and practi- 
 cally construct them into syntax. 
 
 The peculiar situation of the then Marquis de la Fayette is 
 another link in the great chain. He served in America as an 
 American officer under a commission of Congress, and by the 
 universality of his acquaintance, was in close friendship with 
 the civil Government of America, as well as with the mili- 
 tary line. He spoke the language of the country, entered
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. ' 5£ 
 
 into the discussions on the principles of Government, and 
 ■was always a welcome friend at any election. 
 
 When the war closed, a vast reinforcement to the cause 
 of liberty spread itself over France, by the return of the 
 French officers and soldiers. A knowledge of the practice 
 was then joined to the theory ; and all that was wanting to 
 give it real existence, was opportunity. Man cannot, pro- 
 perly speaking, make circumstances for his purpose, but be 
 always has it in his power to improve them when they oc- 
 cur. And this was the case in France. 
 
 M. Neckar was displaced in May, 1781 ; and by the ill- 
 management of the finances afterwards, and particularly dur- 
 ing the extravagant administration of M. Calonne, the reve- 
 nue of France, which was nearly twenty-four millions ster- 
 ling per year, was become unequal to the expenditure, not 
 because the revenue had decreased, but because the expences 
 had increased, and this was the circumstance which the 
 Nation laid hold of to bring forward a Revolution. The 
 English Minister, Mr. Pitt, has frequently allnded to the 
 state of the French finances in his budgets, without under- ' 
 standing the subject. Had the French Parliaments been as 
 ready to register edicts for new taxes, as an English Parlia- 
 ment is to grant them, there had been no derangement in 
 the finances, nor yet any Revolution; but this will better 
 explain itself as I proceed. 
 
 It will be necessary here to show how taxes were former- 
 ly raised in France. The King, or rather, the Court or 
 Ministry, acting under the use of that name, framed the 
 edicts for taxes at their own discretion, and sent them to the 
 Parliaments to be registered ; for until they were registered 
 by the Parliaments, they were not operative. Disputes had 
 long existed between the Court and the Parliament witn re- 
 spect to the extent of the Parliament's authority on this 
 head. The Court insisted that the authority of Pariiamen'- 
 went no further than to remonstrate or shew reasons against 
 the tax, reserving to itself the right of determining whether 
 the reasons were w r ell or ill-fouuded; and in cor. sequence 
 thereof, either to withdraw the edict as a matu r of elioiee, 
 or to order it to be enregistered as a matter ol authority. 
 The Parliaments on their part insisted, that they had not 
 only a right to remonstrate, but to reject ; and on this ground 
 they were always supported by the Nation. 
 
 But, to return to the Order of my narrative: M. Calonne 
 wanted money ; and as he knew the sturdy disposition of 
 the Parliaments with respect to new taxes, he ingeniously
 
 53 RIGHTS OF MAM. 
 
 sought either to approach them by a more gentle method 
 than that of direct authority, or to get over their heads by 
 a manoeuvre. And, for this purpose, he received the pro- 
 ject of assembling a body of men from the several provinces 
 under the style of an " Assembly of the Notables," or men of 
 note, who met in 17S7, and who were either to recommend 
 taxes to the Parliament, or to actasa Parliament themselves. 
 An Assembly under this name had been called in 1687. 
 
 As we are to view this as the first practical step towards 
 the Revolution, it will be proper to enter into some particu- 
 lars respecting it. The Assembly of the Notables has in 
 some places been mistaken for the States-general, but was 
 wholly a different body ; the States-general being always by 
 election. The persons who composed the Assembly of the 
 Notables were all nominated by the King, and consisted of 
 one hundred and forty members. But as M. Caloune could 
 not depend upon a majority of this Assembly in his favour, 
 lie very ingeniously arranged them in such a manner as to 
 make forty-four a majority of one hundred and forty. To 
 effect this, he disposed of them into seven separate commit- 
 tees, of twenty members each. Every general question was 
 to be decided, not by a majority of persons, but by a majo- 
 rity of committees; and as eleven votes would make a ma- 
 jority in a committee, and four committees a majority of 
 seven, M. Calonne had good reasons to conclude, that as for- 
 tyfour would determine any general question, he could not 
 be out-voted. But all his plans deceived him, and in the 
 event became his overthrow. 
 
 The then Marquis de la Fayette was placed in the second 
 committee, of which Count D'Artois was president ; aud as 
 money-matters were the object, it naturally brought into view 
 every circumstance connected with it. M. de la Fayette 
 made a verbal charge against Calonne, for selling crown lands 
 to the amount of two millions of livres, in a manner that 
 appeared to be unknown to tiie King. The Count D'Artois 
 (as if to intimidate, for the Bastille was then in being) asked 
 the Marquis, if he would render the charge in writing ? He 
 replied that he would. The Count D'Artois did not demand 
 it, but brought a message from the King to that purport. 
 M. de la Fayette then delivered in his charge in writing, to 
 be given to the King, undertaking to support it. No farther 
 proceedings were had upon this affair; but M. Calonne was 
 soon after dismissed by the King, and set off to England. 
 
 As M. de la Fayette, from the experience he had seen in 
 America, was better acquainted with the science of civil
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 54 
 
 Government than the generality of the members who com- 
 posed the Assembly of the Notables, could then be ; the 
 brunt of the business fell considerably to his share. The 
 plan of those who had a Constitution in view, was to con- 
 tend with the Court on the ground of taxes, and some of 
 them openly professed their object. Disputes frequently 
 arose between Count D'Artois and M. de la Fayette upon 
 various subjects. With respect to the arrears already incur- 
 red, the latter proposed to remedy them, by accommodating 
 the expences to the revenue, instead of the revenue to the 
 expences; and as objects of reform, he proposed to abolish 
 the Bastille, and all the State-prisons throughout the Nation 
 (the keeping of which was attended with great expeuce) 
 and to suppress lettres de cachet. But those matters were not 
 then much attended to ; and with respect to lettres de cachct\ 
 a majority of the Nobles appeared to be in favour of them. 
 
 On the subject of supplying the treasury by new taxes, the 
 Assembly declined taking the matter on themselves, con- 
 curring in the opinion that they had not authority. In a 
 debate on this subject, M. de la Fayette said, that raising 
 money by taxes, could only be done by a National Assem- 
 bly, freely elected by the People, and acting as their repre- 
 sentatives. Do you mean, said the Count D'Artois, the 
 States-general ? M. de la Fayette replied, that he did. Will 
 you, said the Count D'Artois, sign what you say, to be given 
 to the King? The other replied, that he would not only do 
 this, but that he would go farther, and say, that the effec- 
 tual mode would be, for the King to agree to the establish- 
 ment of a Constitution. 
 
 As one of the plans had thus failed, that of getting the 
 Assembly to act as a Parliament, the other came into view, 
 that of recommending. On this subject, the Assembly 
 agreed to recommend two new taxes to be enregistered by 
 the Parliament, the one a stamp-tax, and the other a terri- 
 torial tax, or sort of land-tax. The two have been estimat- 
 ed at about five millions sterling, per annum. We have now to 
 turn our attention to the Parliaments, on whom the busmr^ 
 was again devolving. 
 
 The Archbishop of Thoulouse (since Archbishop of Sen*, 
 and now a Cardinal) was appointed to the administration of 
 the finances, soon after the dismissal of Calonne. lie was 
 also made Prime Minister, an oflice that did not always exist 
 in France- When this office did not exist, the chief of each 
 of the principal departments transacted business immediate- 
 ly with the King; but when a Prime Minister wasappoii:'-
 
 55 RIGHTS OP MAN. 
 
 fid, they did, business only with him. The Archbishop 
 arrived to more state authority than any Minister since the 
 Dukede Choiseuil, and the Nation was strongly disposed in 
 his favour; but by a line of conduct scarcely to be accounted 
 for, he perverted every opportunity, turned out a despot, and 
 sunk into disgrace, and a Cardinal. 
 
 The Assembly of the Notables having broke up, the new 
 Minister sent the edicts for the two new taxes recom- 
 mended by the Assembly to the Parliaments, to be enr«gis- 
 tered. They of course came first before the Parliament of 
 Paris, who returned for answer, Thai with such a revenue as 
 the Nation then supported, the name of taxes ought not to be 
 mentioned^ hut for the purpose of reducing them ; and threw 
 both the edicts out.* 
 
 On this refusal, the Parliament was ordered to Versailles, 
 where, in the usual form, the King held, what under the old 
 Government was called, a Bed of Justice. And the two edicts 
 were enregistered in presence of the Parliament, by an order 
 of state, in the manner mentioned in page 62. On this, the 
 Parliament immediately returned to Paris, renewed their 
 session in form, and ordered the enregistering to be struck 
 out, declaring that every tiling done at Versailles was illegal. 
 All the Members of Parliament were then served with let- 
 tres dc cadet, and exiled toTrois; but as they continued 
 as inflexible in exile as before, and as vengeance did not sup- 
 ply the place of taxes, they were after a short time recalled 
 to Paris. 
 
 The edicts were again tendered to them, and the Count 
 D'Artois undertook to act as representative to the King- 
 For this purpose, he came from Versailles to Paris, in a train 
 of procession ; and the Parliament were assembled to receive 
 him. But show and parade had lost their influence in 
 France'; and whatever ideas of importance he might set off 
 with, he had to return with those of mortification and dis- 
 appointment. On alighting from his carriage to ascend the 
 steps of the Parliament Mouse, the crowd (which was numer- 
 ously collected} threw out trite expressions, saying, " This 
 " is Monsieur D'Artois, who wants more of our money to 
 spend." The marked disapprobation which he saw, im- 
 pressed him with apprehensions: and the \vox<\aux arms [To 
 
 * When the English Minister, Mr. Pitt, mention? the French 
 finances .-igain in the English Parliament, it would be well that he 
 noticed this as an example
 
 RIGHTS OF MAX. . 53 
 
 arms) was given out by the officer of the guard who attended 
 bim. It was so loudly vociferated; that it echoed through 
 the avenues of the house, and produced a temporary confu- 
 sion. I was then standing in one of the apartments through 
 which he had to pass, and could not avoid reflecting how 
 wretched is the condition of a disrespected man. 
 
 He endeavoured to impress the Parliament by great words, 
 and opened his authority by saying, '* The King, our Lon'. 
 and Master." The Parliament received him very coolly, 
 and with their usual determination not to eoregiister the taxes. 
 And in this manner the interview ended. 
 
 After this a new subject took place. In the various de- 
 bates and contests that arose between the Court and the Par- 
 liaments on the subject of taxes, the Parliament of Paris at 
 last declared, that although it had been customary for Par- 
 liaments to enregister edicts fur taxes as a matter of conve- 
 nience, the right belonged only to the States-general ; and 
 that, therefore, the Parliaments could no longer with pro- 
 priety, continue 10 debate on what it had not authority to 
 act. The King, after this, came to Paris, and held a meet- 
 ing with the Parliament, in which he continued from ten in 
 the morning, till about six in the evening; and in a manner 
 that appeared to proceed from him, as if unconsulted upon 
 with the Cabinet or the Ministry, gave his word to the Par- 
 liament, that the States-general should be convened. 
 
 But after this, another scene arose, on a ground different 
 from all the former. The Minister and the Cabinet were 
 averse from calling the States-general. They well knew, 
 i£the States-general were assembled, that themselves must 
 fall. And as the King had not mentioned anytime, they hit on 
 a project calculated to elude, without appearing to op- 
 pose. 
 
 For this purpose, the Court set about making a sort of 
 Constitution itself. It was principally the work of M. La- 
 moignan, keeper of the seals, who afterwards shot himself. 
 The new arrangement consisted in establishing a body under 
 the name of a Cour Plcniere, or full Court, in which were in- 
 vested all the powers that the Government might have oc- 
 casion to make use of. The persons composing this Court 
 to be nominated by the King; the contended right of taxa- 
 tion was given up on the part of the King, and a new crimi- 
 nal code of laws, and law proceedings, was substituted in' the 
 room of the former. The thing, in many points, contained 
 better principles than those upon which the Government 
 had hitherto been administered. But with respect to the
 
 57 IlIGHTS OF -MAN. 
 
 Cour Pleniere, it was no other than a medium through 
 which despotism was to pass, without appearing to act di- 
 rectly from itself. 
 
 The Cabinet had high expectations from their new con- 
 trivance. The persons who were to compose the Cour Ple- 
 niere, were already nominated ; and as it was necessary to 
 carry a fair appearance, many of the best characters in the 
 Nation were appointed among the number. It was to com- 
 mence on the 8th of May, 1788. But an opposition arose to 
 it, on two gronnds— -the one as to principle, the other as to 
 form. 
 
 On the ground of principle it was contended, that Govern- 
 ment had not a right to alter itself; and that if the practice 
 was once admitted, it would grow into a principle, and be 
 made a precedent for any future alterations the Government 
 might wish to establish : that the right of altering the Go- 
 vernment was a National Right, and not a right of Govern- 
 ment. And on the ground of form, it was contended, that 
 the Cour Pleniere was nothing more than a large Cabinet. 
 
 The then Dukes de la Rochefoucault, Luxenbourgh, de 
 Noailles, and many others, refused to accept the nomina- 
 tion, And strennously opposed the whole plan. When the 
 edict for establishing this new Court was sent to the Parlia- 
 ments to be enregistered, and put into execution, they re- 
 sisted also. The Parliament of Paris not only refused, but 
 denied the authority ; and the contest renewed itself between 
 the Parliament and the Cabinet more strongly than ever. 
 While the Parliament were sitting in debate on this subject, 
 the Ministry ordered a regiment of soldiers to surround the 
 House, and form a blockade. The Members sent out for 
 beds and provision, and lived as in a besieged citadel; and as 
 this had no effect, the commanding officer was ordered to 
 enter the Parliament House and seize tliem, which he did, 
 and some of the principal Members were shut, up in different 
 prisons. About the same time a deputation of persons ar- 
 rived from the Province of Brittauny, to remonstrate against 
 the establishment of the Cour Pleniere ; and those the Arch- 
 bishop sent to the Bastille. But the spirit of the Nation 
 was not to be overcome; and it was so fully sensible of the 
 strong ground it had taken, that of withholding taxes, that 
 it contented itself with keeping up a sort of quiet resistance, 
 which effectually overthrew all the plans at that time form- 
 at that time formed against it. The project of the Cour 
 Pleniere was at last obliged to be given up, and the Prime 
 Minister not long afterwards followed its fate, and M. Neckar 
 was recalled into office
 
 RIGHTS OF MAS. 58 
 
 The attempt to establish the Cow Plcniere, had an effect 
 upon the Nation, which itself did not perceive. It was a 
 sort of new form of Government, that insensibly serv«d to 
 put the old one out of sight, and to unhinge it from the su- 
 perstitious authority of antiquity. It was Government 
 dethroning Government ; and the old one, by attempting to 
 make a new one, made a chasm. 
 
 The failure of this scheme renewed the subject of convening 
 the States-General ; and this gave rise to a series of politics. 
 
 There was no settled form for convening the States-Gene- 
 ral. AH that it positively meant, was a deputation from 
 what was then called the Clergy, the Noblesse, and the Com- 
 mons ; but their numbers, or their proportions had not been 
 always the same. They had been convened only on extra- 
 ordinary occasions, the last of which was in UU 4; their 
 numbers were then in equal proportions, and they voted by 
 orders. 
 
 It could not well escape the sagacity of M. Neckar, that 
 the mode of 1614 would answer neither the purpose of the 
 then Government, nor of the Nation. As matters were at 
 that time circumstanced, it would have been too contentious 
 to argue upon any thing. The debates would have been 
 endless between privileges and exemptions, in which neither 
 the wants of Government, nor the wishes of the Nation for 
 a Constitution would have been attended to. 
 
 But as he did not chuse to take the decision upon him- 
 self, he summoned again the Assembly of the Notables, 
 and referred it to them. 
 
 This body was in general interested in the decision, being 
 chiefly of the Aristocracy and of the high paid clergy; and 
 they decided in favour of the mode of 1C514. 
 
 This decision was against the sense of the Nation, and 
 also against the wishes of the Court; for the Aristocracy 
 opposed itself to both, and contended for privileges indepen- 
 dent of either. 
 
 The subject was then taken up by the Parliament, who 
 recommended, that the number of the Commons should be 
 equal to the other two; and that they should all sit in one 
 house, and vote in one body. 
 
 The number finally determined upon was twelve hundred ; 
 sis hundred to be chosen by the Commons, (and this was 
 less than their proportion ought to huve been, when their 
 worth and consequence is considered on a National scale), 
 three hundred by the Clergy, and three hundred by the 
 Aristocracy. But with respect, to the mode of assembling
 
 3£ RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 themselves, whether together or apart, or the manner in 
 which they should vote, these matters were referred.* 
 
 The election that followed, was not a contested election, 
 but an animated one. The candidates were not men, but 
 principles. Societies were formed in Paris, and committees 
 of correspondence and communication established through- 
 out the Nation, for the purpose of enlightening the people, 
 and explaining to them the principles of civil Government ; 
 and so orderly was the election conducted, that it did not 
 give rise even to the rumour of tumult. 
 
 The Staies-General was to meet at Versailles, in April, 
 1780, but did not assemble till May. They situated them- 
 selves in three separate chambers; or rather the Aristocracy 
 and the Clergy withdrew each into a separate chamber. 
 
 The majority of the Aristocracy claimed what they called 
 
 * Mr. Burke, (and I must take the liberty of telling him, he is 
 very unacquainted with French affairs) speaking on this subject, 
 says, "The first thing^that struck uie in the calling the States- 
 General, was a great departure from the ancient course :" — and a 
 little further op, he says, •« From the moment I read the list, I saw 
 distinctly, and very ntarly as it has happened, all that was to fol- 
 low." 
 
 Mr. Burke certainly did not see all that was to follow. I en- 
 deavoured to impress upon him as well before as after the States- 
 General met, that there would be a Revolution ; but was not able 
 to make him see it, neither would he believe it. How then he could 
 distinctly see all the parts, when the whole was out of sight, is be- 
 yond my comprehension. 
 
 And with respect to the " departure from the ancient course," 
 besides the natural weakness of the remark, it shews that he is un- 
 acquainted with circumstances. The departure was neccessary, 
 from the experience had upon it, that the ancient cause was a bad one. 
 The States-General of 1014, were called at the commencement of 
 the civil war, in the minority of Louis the Thirteenth, but by the 
 clash of arranging them by orders, they increased the]] confusion 
 they were called to compose. 
 
 The author of L'Intrigue du Cabinet, (Intrigue of the Cabinet) 
 who wrote before any Revolution was thought of in France, speak- 
 ing of the States-General of 1614, says — 
 
 " They h Id the public in the greatest suspense five months; 
 and by the questions agitated therein, and the heat wr.h which they 
 were put, it appears that the great (les grands) thought more to 
 gratify their particular passions, than to procure the good of the 
 Nation ; and the whole time passed away in altercations, ceremo- 
 uits, and parade." — L'Intrigue du Cabinet, vol. i, p. 239.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. GO 
 
 i 
 
 the privilege of votingas a separate body, and of giving their 
 consent or negative in that manner ; and many of the 
 Bishops, and the high-beneficed Clergy, claimed the same 
 privilege on the part of their order. 
 
 The Tiers Etat, as they were then called, disowned any 
 knowledge of artificial orders, and artificial privileges: and 
 they were not only resolute on this point, but somewhat 
 disdainful. 
 
 They began to consider Aristocracy as a kind of fungus 
 growing out of society, that could not be admitted even a9 
 a branch of it: and from the disposition the Aristocracy 
 had shewn, by upholding Lettres de Cachet, and in sundry 
 other instances, it was manifest that no Constitution could 
 be formed, by admitting men in any other character thau as 
 National men. v « 
 
 After various altercations on this head, the Tien Etat, or 
 Commons, as they were then called, declared themselves, 
 on a motion made for that purpose, by the Abbe Sieyes, 
 the representatives of the nation ; and that the two 
 . orders could be considered but as deputies of corporations, 
 and could only have a deliberative voice but when they 
 assembled in a National character With the National repre- 
 sentatives. 
 
 This proceeding extinguished the style of JZtats Generaux t 
 or States-General, and erected into the style it now bears, 
 that of L' slssemb/ee National* t or National Assembly. 
 
 This motion was not made in a precipitate manner. It 
 was the result of cool deliberation, and concerted between 
 the National representatives, aud the patriotic members of 
 the two chambers, who saw into the folly, mischief, and in- 
 justice of artificial privileged distinctions. 
 
 It was become evident, that no Constitution, worthy of 
 being called by that name, could be established ou any 
 thing less than a National ground. The Aristocracy had 
 hitherto opposed the despotism of the Court, and affected 
 the language of patriotism ; but it opposed it as its rival, (as 
 the English Barons opposed King John) and it now opposed 
 the Nation from the same motives. 
 
 On carrying this motion, the National representatives, as 
 bad been concerted, sent an invitation to the chambers, 
 to unite with them in a National character, and proceed to 
 business. 
 
 A majority of the Clergy, chiefly of the parish priests, 
 withdrew from the clerical chamber, and joined the Nation; 
 and forty-five from the other chamber joined in tike manner.
 
 61 RIGHT? or M^JT. 
 
 There is a sort of secret history belonging to this last cir- 
 cumstance, which is necessary to its explanation. It was 
 not judged prudent that all the patriotic members of the 
 chamber styling itself the Nobles, should quit it at once ;-,.and 
 in consequence of this arrangement, they drew off by de- 
 grees, always leaving some, as well to reason the case, as to 
 watch the suspected. 
 
 In a little time, the numbers encreased from forty-five to 
 eighty, and soon after to a greater number; which, with a 
 majority of the Clergy, and the whole of the National repre- 
 sentatives, put the mal-contents into a very diminutive con- 
 dition. 
 
 The King, who, very different from the general class call- 
 ed by that name is a man pf a good heart, shewed himself 
 disposed to recommend an union of the three chambers on 
 the ground the .National Assembly had taken; but the 
 mal-contents exerted themselves to prevent it; and began 
 now to have another object in view. 
 
 Their numbers consisted of a majority of the Aristocrati- 
 cal Chamber, and a minority of the Clerical Chamber, chief- 
 ly of Bishops and high-beneficed clergy ; and these meij 
 were determined to put every thing to issue, as well by 
 strength, as by stratagem. 
 
 They had no objection to a Constitution ; but it must be 
 such a one as themselves should dictate, and suited to their 
 own views and peculiar situations. 
 
 On the other hand, the Nation disowned knowing any 
 thing of them but as citizens; and was determined to shut 
 out all such upstart pretensions. 
 
 The more aristocracy appeared, the more it was despised ; 
 there was a visible imbecility and want of intellect in the 
 majority — a sort of /e ne sais quoi, that while it affected to 
 be more than Citizen was less than Man. It lost ground 
 from contempt more than from hatred ; and was rather jeered 
 at as an ass, than dreaded as a lion. This is the general cha- 
 racter of Aristocracy, or what are called Nobles, or Nobility, 
 or rather No-ability, in all countries. 
 
 The plan of the mal-contents consisted now of two. 
 things; either to deliberate and vote by chambers, (or 
 orders) more especially on all questions respecting a constitu- 
 tion, (by which the Aristocratical Chamber would have had 
 a negative on any article of the Constitution) ; or, in* case 
 they could not accomplish this object, to overthrow tl e 
 National Assembly entirely. 
 
 To effect one or other of these objects, they now began--
 
 RIGHTS OF MAS. 6*2 
 
 to cultivate a friendship with the despotism they had 
 hitherto attempted to rival, and the Count d'Artois became 
 their chief. 
 
 The King, who has since declared himself deceived into 
 their measures hUd, according to the old form a Bed of 
 Justice, in which he accorded to the deliberation and vote 
 par tele (by head) upon several subjects ; but reserved the 
 deliberation and vote upon all questions respecting a Con- 
 stitution to the three chambers separately. 
 
 This declaration of the King was made against the advice 
 of M. Neck,ar, who now began to perceive that he was 
 growing out of fashion at Court, and that another minister 
 was in contemplation. 
 
 As the form of sitting in separate chambers was yet ap- 
 parently kept up, though essentially destroyed, the National 
 representatives, immediately after this declaration of the 
 King, resorted to their own chambers to consult on a pro- 
 test against it ; and the minority of the Chamber calling 
 itself the Nobles, who had joined the National cause, retired 
 to a private house to consult in like manner. 
 
 The mal-contents had by this time concerted their mea- 
 sures with the Court, which Count d'Artois undertook to 
 conduct; and as they saw from the discontent which the 
 declaration excited, and the opposition making against it, 
 that they could not obtain a controul over the intended 
 9 ou stitution by a separate vote, they prepared themselves 
 lor their final object — that of conspiring against the Na- 
 tional Assembly, and overthrowing it. 
 
 The next morning, the doo r of the Chamber of the Na- 
 tional Assembly was shut against them, and guarded by 
 troops, and the members were refused admittance, 
 
 On this, they withdrew to a tennis-ground in the neigh- 
 borhood of Versailles, as the most convenient place they 
 could find, and after renewing their session, they took an oath, 
 never to separate from each other, under any circumstance 
 whatever, death excepted, until they had established' a 
 Constitution. 
 
 As the experiment of shutting up the house had no other 
 effect than that of producing a closer connection in the 
 members, it was opened again the next day, and the public 
 business re-commenced in the usual place. 
 
 We are now to have in view the formation of the new 
 Ministry, which was to accomplish the overthrow of the, 
 National Assembly. 
 
 But as force would be necessary, orders were issued to
 
 63 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 assemble thirty thousand troops : the command of which 
 was given to Bioglio, one of the new intended Ministry, 
 who was recalled from the country for this purpose. 
 
 But as some management was also necessary, to keep tins 
 plan concealed till the moment it should be ready for exe- 
 cution, it is to this policy that a declaration made by 
 Count d'Artois must be attributed, and which it is here 
 proper to introduce. 
 
 It could not but occur, that while the mal-contents con- 
 tinued to resort to their Chambers, separate from the Na- 
 tional Assembly, more jealousy would be excited than if 
 they were mixed with it; and that the plot might be 
 suspected. 
 
 But, as they had taken their ground, and now wanted a 
 pretext for quitting it, it was necessary that one should be 
 devised. 
 
 This was accomplished in the declaration made by the 
 Count d'Artois. — " That if they took a part in the National 
 Assembly, the life of the King would be endangered ;" on 
 which they quitted their Chambers, and mixed with the 
 Assembly in one body. 
 
 At the time this declaration was made, it was generally 
 treated as a piece of absurdity in Count d'Artois; and cal- 
 culated merely to relieve the outstanding members of the 
 two chambers, from the diminutive situation ihey were put 
 in ; and if nothing more had followed, this conclusion would 
 ha?e been good. 
 
 But as things best explain themselves by their events, this 
 apparent union was only a cover to the machinations which 
 were secretly going on ; and the declaration accommodated 
 it.self to answer that purpose. 
 
 In a little time the National' Assembly found itself sur- 
 rounded by troops, and thousands more were daily arriving. 
 On this a very strong declaration was made by the Na- 
 tional Assembly to the King, remonstrating on the impro- 
 priety of the measure, and demanding the reason. 
 
 The King, who was not in the secret of this business, as 
 himself afterwards declared, gave substantially for answer, 
 that he had no other object in view, than to preserve the 
 public tranquillity, which appeared to be very much dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 Hut in a few days from this time, the plot unravelled 
 itself. M. Neckar, and the Ministry were displaced, and a 
 new one formed, of the enemicB of the revolution ; and
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. ' 64 
 
 Broglio with between twenty-five and thirty thousand 
 foreign troops, was arrived to support them. 
 
 The mask was now thrown off, and matters were come to 
 a crisis. The event was, that in the space of three days, 
 the new ministry and their abettors found it prudent to fly 
 the nation: the Bastille was taken, and Broglio, and his 
 foreign troops dispersed, as is already related in the former 
 part of this work. 
 
 There are some curious circumstances in the history of 
 this short-lived administration, and this short-lived attempt 
 at a counter revolution. 
 
 The palace of Versailles, where the Court was sitting, 
 was not more than four hundred yards distant from the hall 
 where the National Assembly was sitting. The two places 
 were at this moment like the separate head-quarters of two 
 combatant armies; yet the Court was as perfectly ignorant 
 of the information which had arrived from Paris to the Na- 
 tional Assembly, as if it had resided at an hundred miles 
 distance. 
 
 The then Marquis de la Fayette, who (as has been already 
 mentioned) was chosen to preside in the National Assembly, 
 on this particular occasion, named, by order of the Assem- 
 bly, three successive deputations to the King, on the dny, 
 and up to the evening when the Bastille was taken, to in- 
 form and confer with him on the state of affairs; but the 
 Ministry, who knew not so much as that it was attacked, 
 precluded all communication, and were solacing themselves 
 how dexterously they had succeeded; but in a few hours 
 the accounts arrived so thick and fast that they had to start 
 from their desks and run. Some set oft" in one disguise, and 
 some in another ; and none in their own character. Their 
 anxiety now was to outride the news, lest they should be 
 stopt, which though it flew fast, flew not so fast as them- 
 selves. 
 
 It is worth remarking, that the National Assembly 
 neither pursued these fugitive conspirators, nor took any 
 notice of them, norsought to retaliate in any shape whatever. 
 Occupied with establishing a Constitution founded ou 
 the Rights of Man, and the Authority of the People, the 
 only authority on which Government has a right to exist in 
 any country, the National Assembly felt none of those mean 
 passions which mark the character of impertinent Govern- 
 ments, founding themselves on their own authority, or ou 
 the absurdity of hereditary fuccrssiou. It is the faculty
 
 6£ RIGHTS VT MAN. 
 
 of the human mind to become what it contemplate*, and to 
 act in unison with its object. 
 
 The conspiracy being thus dispersed, one of the first 
 works of the National Assembly, instead of vindictive pro- 
 clamations, as has been the case with other Governments, was 
 to publish a Declaration of the Rights of Man, as the basis 
 on which the new Constitution was to be built ; and which 
 is here subjoined. 
 
 DECLARATION OF THE RIGHTS OF MAN, 
 AND OF CITIZENS, 
 
 BY THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Ti;e Representatives of the People of France, formed 
 into a National Assembly, considering that ignorance, 
 neglect, or contempt of human rights, are the sole causes 
 of public misfortunes, and corruptions of Government, 
 have resolved to set forth, in a solemn declaration, these 
 natural imprescriptible, and inalienable rights: that this 
 declaration being constantly present to the minds of the 
 members of the body social, they may be ever kept attentive 
 to their rights and to their duties; that the acts of the 
 legislative and executive powers of Government, being 
 capable of being every moment compared with the end of 
 political institutions, may be the more respected: and also, 
 that the future claims of the citizens, being directed by sim- 
 ple and incontestible principles, may alwavs tend to the 
 maintenance of the general happiness. 
 
 For these reasons the National Assembly doth recognize 
 and declare, in the presence of the Supreme Being, and with 
 the hope of his blessing and favour, the following sacked 
 Rights of Men and Citizens. 
 
 I. Men are born, and always continue free, and equal in 
 rerpect of their rights. Civil distinctions, therefore, can be 
 founded only on public utitliy. 
 
 II. The end of all political associations, \& the preserva-
 
 RIGHTS OP MAN. 6G 
 
 tion of the Natural Rights of Man, and the-e right3 are 
 Liberty, Property, Security, and Resistance of Oppression. 
 
 III. The Nation is essentially the source of all sovereignty, 
 nor can any individual, nor any body of men, be entitled to 
 any authority which is not expressly derived from it. 
 
 IV. Political Liberty consists in the power of doing what- 
 ever doe9 not injure another. The exercise of the Natural 
 Rights of every man, has no other limits than those which 
 are necessary to secure to every other man the free exercise 
 of the same rights ; and these limits are determinable only 
 the law. 
 
 V. The law ought to prohibit only actions hurtful to 
 society. What is not prohibited by the law should not be 
 hindered ; nor should any man be compelled to do that 
 which the law does not require. 
 
 VI. The law is an expression of the will of the commu- 
 nity. All citizens have a right to concur, either personally 
 or by their representatives in its formation. It should be 
 the same to all, whether it protects or punishes ; and all, 
 bein<* equal in its sight, are equally eligible to all honours, 
 places, and employments, according to their different 
 abilities, without any other distinction than that created 
 by their virtues and talents. 
 
 VII. No man should be accused, arrested, or held in 
 confinement, except id cases determined by the law, and 
 according to the forms which it has prescribed. All who 
 promote, solicit, or execute, or 'Cause to be executed, arbi- 
 trary orders ought to be punished; and every citizen called 
 upon, for apprehended by virtue of the law, ought im- 
 mediately to obey, and renders himself culpable by a re- 
 sistance. 
 
 VIII. The law ought to impose no other penalties, but 
 •uch. as are absolutely and evidently necessary; and no one 
 ought to be punished but in virtue of a law promulgated 
 before the offence, and legally applied. 
 
 IX. Kvery man being presumed innocent, till he has 
 been convicted, whenever his detention becomes indispen- 
 •ible, all rigour to him, more than is necessary to secure 
 his person, ought to be provided against by the law. 
 
 X. No man ought to be molested on account of his opi- 
 nions, not even on account of his religious opinions 
 provided, his avowal of them does not disturb the public 
 order established by the laws. 
 
 XI. The unrestrained communication of his thoughts 
 and opinions, being one of the most precious Rights of
 
 67 RIGHTS OP UA9. ' 
 
 Man, every citizen may speak, write, and publish freely, 
 provided he is responsible for the abuse of this liberty in 
 cases determined by the law. 
 
 XII. A public force being necessary, to give security to 
 the Rights of Men and of citizeus, that force is instituted 
 for the benefit of the community, and not for the particular 
 benefit of the persons with whom it is entrusted. 
 
 XIII. A common contribution being necessary for the 
 support of the public force, and for defraying the other 
 expences of Government, it ought to be divided equally 
 among the members of the community, according to their 
 abilities. 
 
 XIV. Every citizen has a right, either by himself, or by 
 his representative, to a free voice in determining the neces- 
 sity of public contributions, the appropriation of them, 
 and their amount, mode of assessment, and duration. 
 
 XV. Every community has a right to demand of its 
 agents, an account of their conduct. 
 
 XVI. Every community, in which a separation of powers, 
 and a security of rights is not provided for, wants a Coi> 
 stitution. 
 
 XVII. The right to property being inviolable and sacred, 
 no one ought to be deprived of it, except in cases of evi- 
 dent public necessity, legally ascertained, and on condition 
 of a previous just indemnity. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE DECLARATION OF 
 RIGHTS. 
 
 The three first articles comprehend in general terms, the 
 whore of a Declaration of Rights. All th« succeeding 
 articles either originate from them, or follow as elucida- 
 tions. The 4th, 6th, and 6th, define more particularly 
 what is only generally expressed in the 1st, 2d, and 3d. 
 
 The 7th, £th,9th, 10th, and Hth articles, are declaratory 
 of principles upon which laws shall be constructed, confor- 
 mable to the Rights already declared. 
 
 But it is questioned by some very good people in France, 
 as well as in other countries, whether the 10th article 
 sufficiently guarantees the right it is intended to accord 
 with. Besides which, it takes oft' from the divine dignity
 
 RIGHTS OF MAX. O'S 
 
 of religion, and weakens its operative force upon the mind 
 to make it a subject of human lawsJF It then presents 
 itself to man, like light intercepted by a cloudy medium, 
 in which the source of it is obscured from his sight, and he 
 sees nothing to reverence in the dusky ray.* 
 
 The remaining articles, beginning with the twelfth, are 
 substantially contained in the principles of the preceding 
 articles; but in the particular situation which France then 
 was, having to undo what was wrong, as well as to set up 
 what was right, it was proper to be more particular than 
 what in another condition of things would be necessary. 
 
 While the Declaration of Rights was before the National 
 Assembly, some of its members remarked, that if a Decla- 
 ration of Rights was published, it should be accompanied by 
 a Declaration of Duties. 
 
 That observation discovered a mind that reflected, and 
 it only erred by not reflecting far enough. A Declaration 
 of Rights is by reciprocity, a Declaration of Duties also. 
 Whatever is my right as a man, ig also the right of ano- 
 ther ; and it becomes my duty to guarantee, as well as to 
 possess. 
 
 The three first articles are the basis of Liberty, as well 
 individual as National ; nor can any country be called free, 
 whose Government does not take its beginning from the 
 principles they contain, and continue to preserve them 
 
 * There is a single idea, which, if it strikes rightly upon the 
 mind, either in a legal or a religious sense, will prevent any roan 
 •r any body of men, or any Government from going wrong on 
 the subject %f religion ; which is, that before any human institu- 
 tion of Government was known in the world, there existed, if I 
 may so express it, a compact between God and Man, from the 
 beginning of time : and, that as the relation and condition which 
 man in his individual person stands in towards his Maker cannot 
 fee changed or any ways altered, by any human laws, or any 
 kuman authority, that religious devotion, which is a partoftiu3 
 compact, cannot so much as be made a subject of human laws ; 
 and that all laws must conform themselves to this prior existing 
 compact, and not assum to make the compact conform to the laws, 
 •which besides being human, are subsequent thereto. The Hrst 
 act of man, when he looked around and saw himself a creature 
 which he did not make, and a world furnished for his reception, 
 must have been devotion ; and devotion must ever continue *a- 
 cred to every individual man, as it appears right to him, and 
 Governments do mischief by interfering.
 
 69 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 pure; and the whole Declaration of Rights is of more 
 value to the world", and will do more good, than all the 
 laws and statutes that have yet been promulgated. 
 
 In the declaratory exordium which prefaces the Declara- 
 tion of Rights, we see the solemn and majestic spectacle of 
 a Nation opening its commission under the auspices of its 
 Creator, to establish a Government; a scene so new, and so 
 transcendently unequalled by any thing in the European 
 world, that the name of a Revolution is diminutive of 
 its character, and it rises into a REGENERATION OF 
 MAN. 
 
 What are the present Governments of Europe, but a 
 scene of iniquity and oppression ? What is that of England ? 
 Do not its own inhabitants say, it is a 'maiket where 
 every man has his price; and where corruption is the 
 common tratlic, at the expence of a deluded People? No 
 wonder, then, that t he - French Revolution is traduced. 
 Had it confined itseif merely to the destruction of flagrant 
 despotism, perhaps Mr. Burke and some others had been 
 silent. Their cry now is, ' It is gone too far!' that is, it 
 lias gone too far for them. It stares corruption in the face, 
 and the venal tribe are all alarmed. Their fear discovers 
 itself in their outrage, and they are but publishing the 
 groans of a wounded vice, i 
 
 But from such opposition, the French Revolution, instead 
 of suffering, receives homage. The more it is struck, the 
 more sparks it will emit ; and the fear is, that it will not 
 be struck enough. It has nothing to dread from attacks: 
 Truth has given it an establishment; and Time will record 
 it with a name as lasting as his own. 
 
 Having now traced the progress of the French Revolu- 
 tion through most of its principal stages, from its com- 
 mencement to the taking of the Bastille, and its establish- 
 ment by the Declaration of Rights, I will close the subject 
 with the energetic apostrophe of M. tie la layette. 
 
 " MAY THIS GREAT MONUMENT RAISED TO 
 LIBERTY, SERVE AS A LESSON TO THE OPPRES- 
 SOR, AND AN EXAMPLE TO THE OPPRESSED !"* 
 
 * See Page 6 of this work. Since the taking of the Bastille, 
 the occurrences have been published ; but the matteis recorded 
 in this narrative are prior to that period, and some of them, ys 
 may be easily seen, can be but very little known.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. ?♦ 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS CHAPTER. 
 
 To prevent interrupting the argument in the preceding 
 part of this work; or the narrative that follows it, I reserved 
 some observations to be thrown together into a miscel- 
 laneous chapter ; by which variety might not be censured 
 for confusion. 
 
 Mr. Burke's book is all miscellany. His intention was to 
 make an attack on the French Revolution; but instead of 
 proceeding with an orderly arrangement, he has stormed it 
 with a mob of ideas tumbling over and destroying one 
 another. 
 
 But this confusion and contradiction in Mr. Burke's 
 book is easily accounted for. — When a man in a long 
 cause attempts to steer his course by any thing else than 
 some polar truth or principle, he is sure to be lost. It is 
 beyond the compass of his capacity, to keep all the parts of 
 an argument together, and make them unite in one issue, 
 by any other means than having this guide always in view. 
 Neither memory nor invention will supply the want of it. 
 The former fails him, and the latter betrays him. . 
 
 Notwithstanding the nonsense, for it deserves no better 
 name, that Mr. Burke has asserted about hereditary rightc, 
 and hereditary succession, and that a Nation has not a right 
 to chuse a Government for itself, it happened to fall in h » 
 way to give some account of what Government is. 
 
 Government, says he, is a contrivance of human wisdom. 
 Admitting that Government is a contrivance of humau 
 wisdom, it must necessarily follow, that hereditary succes- 
 sion, and hereditary rights, can make no part of it, because 
 it is impossible to make the wisdom hereditary ; and on 
 the other hand, that cannot be a wise contrivance, which in 
 its operation may commit the Government of the Nation to 
 the wisdom of an ideot. 
 
 The ground which Mr. Burke now takes, is fatal to every 
 part of his cause. The argument changes from hereditary 
 right to hereditary wisdom; aud the question is, — Who i« 
 the wisest man ? 
 
 He must now shew that every one in the line of heredi- 
 tary succession was a Solomon, or his title is not good to 
 be a King. 
 
 What a stroke has Mr. Butke now made. To use a
 
 Tl 1I6HTS OF UAti. 
 
 sailor's phrase, be has swabbed the deck, and scarcely left 
 a name legible in the list of Kings ; and he has mowed 
 down the House of Peers, with a »cythe as formidable as 
 death and time. 
 
 But Mr. Burke appears to have been aware of this re- 
 tort ; and he has taken care to guard against it, by makimr 
 Government not only to be a contrivance of -human wisdom, 
 but a monopoly of wisdom. 
 
 He pats the Nation, as fools, on the one side ; and places 
 his Government of wisdom, all wise men of Gotham, on the 
 other side ; and he then proclaims, and says, that — *' Men 
 have a right that their wants should be provided for by 
 this wisdom." Having thus made proclamation, he next 
 proceeds to explain to them what their wants are, and also 
 what their rights are. 
 
 In this he has succeeded dextrously, for he makes their 
 wants to be a want of wisdom; but as this is but cold 
 comfort, he then informs them, that they have a right, 
 not to any of the wisdom, but to be governed by it; and in 
 order to impress them with a solemn reverence for this 
 monopoly-Government of wisdom, and of its vast capacity 
 for all purposes, possible or impossible, right or wrong, be 
 proceeds With astrological mysterious importance, to tell 
 them its powers in these words :— - 
 
 " The rights of men, in Governments, are their advan- 
 tages ; and these are often in balances between differences 
 of good ; and in compromises sometimes between good and 
 evil ; and sometimes between evil and evil. Political reason 
 is a computing principle; adding — substracting— multiply- 
 ing — and dividing, morally, and not metaphysically or ma- 
 thematically, true moral demonstrations." 
 
 As the wondering audience, whom Mr. Burke supposes 
 himself talking to, may not understand all this learned 
 jargon, I will undertake to be its interpreter. 
 
 The meaning then, good people, of all this, is, that 
 Government is governed by wo principle whatever; that it 
 can make evil good, or good evil, just as -it pleases. In 
 short, that Government is arbitrary puvcr. 
 
 But there are some things winch Mr* Burke has for- 
 gotten. 
 
 First, He has not shewn where the wisdom came from ; 
 and 
 
 Secondly, He has not shewn by what authority it first 
 began to act. 
 
 In the manner he introduces the matter, it is either Go-
 
 RIGHT* OP NA.3. T£ 
 
 verument stealing wisdom, or wisdom stealing Government. 
 It is without au origin, and its powers without authority. 
 In short, it is usurpation. 
 
 Whether it be from a sense of shame, or from a con- 
 sciousness of some radical defect in a Government neces- 
 sary to be kept out of sight ; or from both, or from any 
 other cause, I undertake not to determine ; but so it is, that 
 a monarchical reasoner never traces Govemmeut to its source, 
 or from its source : it is one of the Shiklwletlm by which 
 he may be known. A thousand years hence, those wuo 
 shall live in America, or in France, will look back with 
 contemplative pride on the origin of their Governments, 
 and say—' This was the work of our glorious ancestors!* 
 But what can a monarchical talker say ? What has he to 
 exult in? Alas, he has nothing! A certain something 
 forbids him to look back to a beginning, lest some robber, 
 or some Robin Hood should rise from the long obscurity of 
 time, and say, / am the origin. Hard as Mr. Burke la- 
 boured the Regency Bill, and hereditary succession two 
 years ago, and much as he dived for precedents, he still had 
 not boldness enough to bring up William of Normandy, and 
 say, There is the head of the list ! there is the fountain of 
 honor ! the son of a prostitute, and the pjunderer of the 
 English Nation ! 
 
 The opinions of men with respect to Governments are 
 changing very fast in all countries. The resolutions of 
 America and France have thrown a beam of light over the 
 w4>rld, which reaches into man. The enormous expence of 
 Governments have provoked people to think, by making 
 them feel ; and when once the veil begins to rend, it admits 
 not of repair. Ignorance is of a peculiar nature; once 
 dispelled, it is impossible to re-establjsh it. It is not origi- 
 nally a thing of itself, but is only the absence of knowledge; 
 and though man may be kept ignorant, he cannot be made 
 ignorant. 
 
 The mind in discovering truth, acts in the same manner 
 as it acts through the eye in discovering objects ; when once 
 any object has been seen, it is impossible to put the mind 
 back to the same condition it was in before it saw it. 
 
 Those who talk of a counter-revolution in Fiance, Bhew 
 how little they understand of man. Tuere does not exist 
 in the compass of language, an arrangement of words to 
 express so much as the means of effecting a countcr-revohu 
 turn. The means must be au obliteration of knowledge;
 
 73 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 and it has never yet been discovered, how to make a man 
 nnknow his knowledge, of unthink his thoughts. 
 
 Mr. Burke is labouring in vain to stop the progress of 
 knowledge; and it comes with the worse grace from him, 
 as there is a certain transaction known in the city, which 
 tenders him suspected of being a pensioner in a fictitious 
 name. This may account for some strange doctrine he has 
 advanced in his book, which, though he points it at the 
 Kevolution- Society, is effectually directed against the whole 
 Nation. 
 
 f* The Kin? of England," says he, " holds his Crown (for 
 it does not belong to the Nation, according to Mr. Burke) 
 in contempt of the choice of the Revolution Society, who 
 have not a single vote for a King among them either indi- 
 vidually or collectively ; and his Majesty's heirs,, each in 
 their time and order, will come to the crown with the same 
 contempt of their choice, with which his Majesty has suc- 
 ceeded to that which he now wears." 
 
 As to who is King in England or elsewhere, or whether 
 there is any King at all, or whether the people chuse a 
 Cherokee Chief, or n Hessian Hussar for a King, it is not a 
 matter that I trouble myself about — be that to themselves ; 
 but. with respect to the doctrine, so far as it relates to the 
 Rights of Men and Nations, it is as abominable as any 
 thing ever uttered in the most enslaved country under 
 Heaven. Whether it sounds worse to my ear, by not being 
 accustomed to hear such despotism, than what it does to the 
 ear of another person, I am not so well a judge of; but of 
 its abominable principle lam at no loss to judge. 
 
 It is not the Revolution Society, that Mr. Burke means'; 
 it is the Nation, as well in its original as in its represen- 
 tative character; and he has taken care to make himself 
 understood, by saying that they have not a vote either 
 collectively or individually. Tiie Revolutionary Society 
 is composed of citizens ol all denominations, and of mem- 
 bers of both the Houses of Parliament : and consequently, if 
 there be not a right to vote in any of the characters, there 
 can be no right to any, either in the Nation, or in its Par- 
 liament. TliMi ought to he a caution to every country, how 
 it imports foreign families to be Kings; It is somewhat 
 curious to observe that although the people of England- 
 have been in the habit of talking about Kfngs, it is always 
 a foreign House of Kings; hating Foreigners, yet governed 
 by them :— rlt is now the House of Brunswick, one of Cuff 
 petty tribes of Germany.
 
 RIGHT* OF MAN. 74 
 
 It has hitherto keen the practice of the English Parlia- 
 ment*, to regulate what was called the succession, taking 
 it for granted, that the Nation then continued to accord to 
 the form of annexing a monarchical branch to its Govern- 
 ment; for without this, the Parliament could not have had 
 the authority to have aent either to Holland or to Hanover, 
 or to impose a King upon the Nation agaiust its will. And 
 this must be the utmost limit to which Parliament can so 
 upon the case; but the right of the Nation goes to the 
 whole case, because it has the right of changing its whole 
 form of Government. The right of a Parliament is only a 
 right in trust, a right by delegation, and that but from a 
 very small part of the Nation ; and one of its Houses has 
 not even this. But the right of the Nation is an original 
 right, as universal as taxation. The Nation is the pay- 
 master of every thing, and every thing must conform to its 
 general will. 
 
 I remember taking notice of a speech in what is called 
 the English House of Peers, by the then Earl of Shelburne, 
 and I think it was at the time he was Minister, which is 
 applicable to this case. I do not directly charge my memory 
 with every particular; hut the words and the purport, as 
 nearly as I remember, were these: That the form of a 
 Government was a matter wholly at the will of a Nation, at 
 all times: that if it chose a monarchical form, it had a right 
 to have it so ; and if it afterwards chose to be a Republic, 
 it had a right to be a Republic, and to gay to a King, " We 
 have no longer any occasion for you." 
 
 When Mr. Burke says that " His Majesty's heirs and 
 successors, each in their time and order, will come to the 
 crown with the same contempt of their choice with which 
 his Majesty has succeeded to that he wears," it is saying 
 too much even to the humblest individual in the country, 
 part of whose daily labour goes towards making up the 
 million sterling a year, which the country gives the person 
 it styles a King. Government with insolence, is despotism ; 
 but when contempt is added, it becomes worse ; and to 
 pay for contempt, is the excess of slavery. This species 
 of Government comes from Germany; and reminds me of 
 what one of the Brunswick soldiers told me, who wai taken 
 prisoner by the Americans in the late war : " Ah 1" said he, 
 " America is a line free country, it is worth the people's 
 fighting for; I know the difference by knowing my own: 
 in my country, if the Prince says, Kat straw, we eat straw." 
 God help that country, thought I, be it England, or else-
 
 75 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 where, whose liberties, or whose properties are to he pro- 
 tected by German principles of Government, and Princes 
 of Brunswick ! 
 
 As Mr. Burke sometimes speaks of England, sometimes 
 of France, and sometimes of the world, and of Government 
 in general, it is difficult to answer his book without appa- 
 rently meeting him on the same ground. Although princi- 
 ples of Government are general subjects, it is next to 
 impossible, in many cases to separate them from the idea 
 of place and circumstance; and the more so when cir- 
 cumstances are put for arguments, which is frequently the 
 case with Mr. Burke. 
 
 In the former part of his book, addressing himself to the 
 people of France, he says, *' No experience has taught us, 
 ' (meaning the English)," that in any other course, or method 
 than that an hereditary crown, can our liberties be regularly 
 perpetuated and preserved sacred as our hereditary right." 
 I ask Mr. Burke, who is to take them away? M.dela 
 Fayette, in speaking to France, says, " For a Nation to be 
 free, it is sufficient that she wills it." But Mr. Burke re- 
 presents England as wanting capacity to take care of itself, 
 and that its liberties must be taken care of by a King- 
 holding it in " contempt." If England is sunk to this, it 
 is preparing itself to eat straw, as in Hanover, or in Bruns- 
 wick. But besides the folly of the declaration, it happens 
 that the fabts are all against Mr. Buike, It was by the 
 Government being hereditary, that the liberties of the 
 people were endangered. Charles I. and James II. are 
 instances of this truth; yet neither of them went so far as 
 to hold the Nation in contempt. 
 
 As it is sometimes of advantage to the people of one 
 country, to hear what those of other countries have to say 
 respectingit.it is possible that the people of France may 
 'learn something from Mr. Burke's book, and that the people 
 (of England may also learn something from the answers it 
 will occasion. When Nations fall cut about freedom, a 
 wide field of debate is opened. The argument commences 
 with the rights of war, without its evils ; and as knowledge 
 is the object contended for, the parly that sustains the 
 defeat obtains a prize. 
 
 Mr. Burke talks about what he calls an hereditary crown, 
 as if it were some production of Nature ; or as if, like 
 Time, it had a power to operate, not only independently, 
 bul in spite of man; or as if it were a thing, or a subject 
 universally consented to. Alas! it has none of those pro- 
 perties, but is the reverse of them all. It U a thing in
 
 RiaHTi OF MAM. N *§ 
 
 imagination, the propriety of which is more than doubted, 
 and the legality of which in a few years will be denied. 
 
 But, to arrange this matter in a clearer view than what 
 general expressions can convey, it will be necessary to 6tate 
 the distinct heads, under which , what is called, an heredi- 
 tary crown, or, more properly speaking, an hereditary suc- 
 cession to the Government of a Nation, can be considered ; 
 which are — 
 
 First, The right of a particular Family to establish itself. 
 
 Secondly, The right of a Nation to establish a particular 
 Family. 
 
 With respect to the first of these heads, that of a Family 
 establishing itself with hereditary powers, on its own au- 
 thority, and independent of the consent of a Nation, all 
 men will concur in calling it despotism; and it would be 
 tresspassing on their understanding to attempt to prove it. 
 
 But the second head, that of a Nation establishing a 
 particular Family with hereditary powers, does not present 
 itself as despotism on the first reflection; but if men will 
 permit a second reflection to take place, and carry that 
 reflection forward but one remove out of their own persons 
 into their offspring, they will then see that hereditary suc- 
 cession becomes in its consequences the same despotism to 
 others. It operates to preclude the consent of the suc- 
 ceeding generation ; and the preclusiou of consent, is des- 
 potism. * 
 
 When the person who shall be at any time in possession of 
 a Government, or those whostand in succession to him, shall 
 say to a Nation, — I hold this power in contempt of you,— 
 it signifies not upon what authority he pretends to say it. It 
 in no relief, but an aggravation, to a person in slavery, to 
 reflect that he was sold by his parent ; and as that which 
 heightens the criminality of an act, cannot be produced to 
 prove the legality of it, hereditary succession cannot be 
 established as a legal thing. 
 
 In order to arrive at a more perfect decision on this head, 
 it will be proper to consider the generation which under- 
 takes to establish a Family with hereditary powers, apart 
 and separate from the generations which are to follow ; and 
 also to consider the character in which the first generation 
 acts with fespect to succeeding generations. 
 
 The generation which first selects a person, and puts him 
 at the- head of its Government, either with the title of King 
 or any other distinction, acts its own choice, be it wise, 
 •r foolish, as free agent for itself, J>
 
 ffr RIGHTS OF MAW. 
 
 The person so set up, is not hereditary, but select- 
 ed and appointed; and the generation who sPts him 
 up does not live under an hereditary Government, but 
 under a Government of its own choice and establishment. 
 
 Were the generation who sets him up, and the person so 
 set up, to live forever, it never could become hereditary 
 succession ; and, of consequence, hereditary succession can 
 only follow on the death of the first parries. 
 
 As therefore hereditary succession is out of the question 
 with respect to the first generation, we have now to consider 
 the character, in which that generation acts with respect to 
 the commencing generation, and to all succeeding ones. 
 
 It assumes a character, to which it has neither fight nor 
 title. It changes itself from a legislator to a testator, and 
 affects to make its will, which is to have operation after 
 the demise of the makers, to bequeath the Government; 
 and it not only attempts to bequeath, but to establish on 
 the succeeding generation, a new and different form of 
 Government to that under which itself lived. Itself, as is 
 elready observed, lived not under an hereditary Government, 
 but under a Government of its own choice and establishment; 
 and now it attempts, by virtue of a will and testament, 
 (and which it has not authority to make) to take from the 
 commencing generation, and all future ones, the rights and 
 free agency by which itself acted. 
 
 But, exclusive of the right which any generation has to 
 act collectively as a testator, the objects to which it applies 
 in this case, are not within the compass of any law, or of 
 any will or testament. 
 
 The rights of men in society, are neither deviseable, nor 
 transferable, nor anuihilable, but are descendable only ; and 
 it is not in the power of any generation to intercept finally, 
 and cut off the descent. 
 
 If the present generation, or any other, are disposed to 
 be slaves, it does not lessen the right of the succeeding 
 generations to be free. Wrongs cannot have a legal descent. 
 
 When Mr. Burke attempts to maintain, that the English 
 Nation did, at the Revolution of 10*88, most solemnly re- 
 nounce and abdicate their Rights, for themselves, and their 
 posterity for ever, he speaks a language that merits not 
 yeply ; and which can only excite contempt for his prosti- 
 tute principles, or pity for his ignorance. 
 
 In whatever light hereditary succession, as growing out 
 of the will and testament of some former generation, pre-
 
 RI6HTS OF MAN. ?ft 
 
 sents itself, it is an absurdity. A. cannot make a will to 
 take from B. the property of B. and give it to C. — Yet this. 
 . is the manner i« which what is called hereditary succession 
 by law operates. 
 
 A certain former generation made a will, to take away 
 the rights of the commencing generation, and all future 
 ones, and convey those rights to a third person, who after- 
 wards comes forward and tells them, in Mr. Burke's lan- 
 guage, that they have no rights — that their rights are 
 already bequeathed to him — and that he will govern in 
 contempt of tlsein! — From such principles, and such igno- 
 rance, Good Lord deliver the world ! 
 
 But, after all, what is this metaphor called a crown ? Or, 
 rather, what is monarchy ? Is it a thing— or is it a nam-: — 
 oris it a fraud ? Is it a" contrivance of human wisdom," — 
 or of human craft, to obtain money from a Nation, uuder 
 specious pretences ? Is it a thing necessary to a Nation? 
 If it be, in what does that necessity consist, what services 
 does it perform, what is its business, and what are its 
 merits? Does the virtue consist in the metaphor, or in the 
 man ? Doth the goldsmith that makes the crown, make the 
 virtue also? Doth itoperate like Fortunatus's wishing-cap # 
 or Harlequin's wooden sword ? Doth it make a man a con- 
 juror? In fine, what is it? 
 
 It appears to be a something going much out of fashion j \l 
 falling into ridicule, and rejected in some countries, both as J^ 
 unnecessary, and expensive. 
 
 In America, it is considered as an absurdity; and in 
 France it has so far declined, that the goodness of the man, 
 and the respect lor his personal character, are the only things 
 that preserve the appearance of its existence 
 
 If Government be what Mr. Burke describes it, — a con- 
 trivance of human wisdom — I ask him if wisdom was at 
 such a low ebb in England, that it was become necessary 
 to import it from Holland, and from Hanover? But I will 
 do the country the justice to say, that was not thexase; aud 
 even if it was, it mistook the cargo. 
 
 The wisdom of every country, when properly exerted, is 
 sufficient for all its purposes; and there could appear no 
 more real occasiou in England to have *ent for a Dutch 
 Stadtholder, or a German Elector, than there was in Ame- 
 rica to have done a similar thing. If a country does not 
 understand its own affairs, how is a foreigner to understand 
 them, who knows neither its laws, its manners, nor its lan- 
 guage ? Ii there existed a man so transcendantiy wise above
 
 79 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 all others, that his wisdom was necessary to instruct a Na- 
 tion, some reason might be offered for monarchy ; but when 
 we cast our eyes about a country, and observe how every . 
 part understands its own affairs ; and when we look around 
 the world, and see that of all men in it the race ot Kings 
 are the most insignificant in capacity, our reason cannot fail 
 to ask us — What are those men kept for? 
 
 If there is any thing in monarchy which we people of 
 America do not understand, I wish Mr. Burke woule be so 
 kind as to inform us. I see, in America, a Government 
 extended over a country ten times as large as England, and 
 conducted with regularity, for a fortieth part of the expence 
 which Government costs in England. 
 
 If I ask a man in America, if jje w&3 ts a King, he retorts, 
 and asks me if I take him for an icfiot. How is it that this 
 difference happens? Are we more, or less, wise than others ? 
 I see, in America, the generality of people living in a >tyle of 
 plenty unknown in monarchical countries ; and I see that the 
 principle of its Government, which is that of the equal 
 Rights of Man, is making a rapid progress in the world. 
 
 If monarchy is a useless thing, why is it kept up any 
 where? And if a necessary thing, how can it be dispensed 
 with ? That civil Government is necessary, all civilized Na- 
 tions will agree; but civil Government is republican Go- 
 vernment. All that part of the Government of England, 
 which begins with the office of constable, and proceeds 
 through the department of magistrate, quarter session, and 
 general assize, including trial by jury, is republican Govern- 
 ment. Nothing of monarchy appears in any part of it, ex- 
 cept the name which William the Conqueror imposed upon 
 the English, that of obliging them to call him, Their Sove- 
 reign Lord, the King. 
 
 It is easy to conceive, that a band of interested men, such 
 as Placemen, Pensioners, Lords -of ihe Bed-chamber, Lords 
 of the Kitchen, Lords of the Necessary-house, and the Lord 
 knows what hesides. can find as mauy reasons for monaichy 
 as their salaries, paid at the expence of the country, amount 
 to: but if I ask the farmer, the manufacturer, the merchant, 
 the tradesman, and dowu through all the occupations of hfe, 
 to the common labourer, what service monarchy is to him, 
 he can give me no answer. If I ask him what monarchy is, 
 he believes it is something like a sinecure. 
 
 Notwithstanding the taxes of England amount to almost 
 seventeen millions year, said to be for the expences of Go- 
 vernment, it is still evideut, ihat the sense of the Nation is
 
 RIGHTi OP MAX. 
 
 so 
 
 left to govern itself, and does govern itself by magistrates 
 and juries, almost at its own charge, on republican princi- 
 ples, exclusive of the expence of taxes. The salaries of the 
 judges are almost the only charge that is paid out of the 
 revenue. 
 
 Considering that all th« internal Government is exf cnted 
 by the people, the taxes of England ought to be the lightest 
 of any Nation in Europe; instead of which, they are the 
 contrary. As this cannot be accounted for on the score of 
 civil Government, the subject necessarily extends itself to 
 the monarchical part. 
 
 When the people of England sent for George the First, 
 (and it would puzzle a wiser man than Mr. Burke to disco- 
 ver for what he could be wanted, or what service he could 
 render,) they ought at least to have conditioned for the aban- 
 donment of Hanover. Besides the endless German intrigues 
 that must follow from a German Elector being King of Eug- 
 land, there is a natural impossibility of uniting in the same 
 person the principles of Freedom, and the principles of Des- 
 potism; or, as it is usually called-in England, abitrary 
 power. 
 
 A German Elector is in his Eelectorate, a Despot. How 
 then could it be expected, that he should be attached to 
 principles of liberty in one country, while his interest in 
 another was lobe supported by despotism? The union 
 cannot exist; and it might easily have been foreseen, thst 
 German Electors would make German Kings; or, in Mr. 
 Burke's words, " assume Government with contempt." 
 
 The English have been in the habit of considering a King 
 of England only in the character in which he appears to 
 them ; — whereas, the same person, while the connection 
 Jasts, has a home seat in another country, the interest of 
 which is different to their own, and the principles of the 
 Governments in opposition to each other. To sucti a person, 
 England will appear as a town residence, and the Electorate 
 as the* estate. 
 
 The English may wish, as I believe they do, success to 
 the principles of liberty, in France, or in Germany ; but a 
 German Elector trembles for the fate of despotism in lire 
 electorate; an.! the Duchy of Mecklenhurgh, where the 
 present Queen's Family governs, is under tue same wretched 
 state of arbitrary power, and the people in slavish vas- 
 salage. 
 
 There newr was a time when it became the English to 
 
 watch continental intrigues more circumspectly than at the 
 
 f
 
 • 1 RIGHTS OP MAN. 
 
 present moment, and to distinguish the politics of the Elec- 
 torate from the politics of the Nation. 
 
 The Revolution of France has entirely changed the 
 ground with respect to England, and France, as Nations; 
 but the German despots, with Prussia at their head, are com- 
 bining against liberty; and the fondness of Mr; Pitt for 
 office, and the interest which all his family connections have 
 obtained, do not give sufficient security against this in- 
 trigue. 
 
 As every thing which passes in the world becomes matter 
 for history, I will now quit this subject, and take a concise 
 Teview of the state of parties and politics in England, as Mr. 
 Burke has done in France. 
 
 Whether the present reign commenced with contempt, 
 I leave to Mr. Burke ; certain, however, it is, that it had 
 strongly that appearance. The animosity of the English 
 Nation, it is very well remembered, ran high; and, had the 
 true principles of liberty been as well understood then, as 
 they now promise to be, it is probable that the Nation 
 would not have patiently submitted to so much. 
 
 George the First, and Second, were sensible of a rival in the 
 remains of the Stuarts ; and, as they could not but consider 
 themselves as standing on their good behaviour, they had 
 the prudence to keep their German principles of Goverw- 
 ment to themselves; but as the Stuart family wore away, 
 the prudence became less necessary. 
 
 The contest between rights, and what were called prero- 
 gatives, continued to heat the Nation tiil some time after 
 the conclusion of the American war, when all at once it fell 
 a calm: — execration exchanged itself for applause, and 
 Court popularity sprung up like a mushroom in the night. 
 
 To account for this sudden transition, it is proper to ob- 
 serve, that there are two distinct species of popularity ; the 
 one excited by merit, the other by resentment. As the Na- 
 tion had formed itself into two parties, and each was extol- 
 ling the merits of its parliamentary champions, lo^, and 
 against prerogative, .nothing could operate to give a more 
 general shock than an immediate coalition of the champions 
 themselves. 
 
 The partisans of each, being thus suddenly left in the 
 lurch, and mutually heated with disgust of the measure, 
 felt no other relief than uniting iu a common execration 
 against both. 
 
 A higher stimulus of resentment being thus excited, than 
 what the contest on prerogatives had occasioned, the Na-
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. t'2 
 
 lion quitted all former objects of rights and wrongs, 
 and sought only that of gratification. The indignation 
 at the coalition so effectually superseded th<f indigua- 
 tion against the Court, as to extinguish it; arid "with- 
 out any change of principles on the part of the Court, 
 the same people who had reprobated its despotism, united 
 with it, to revenge themselves on the coalition Parliament. 
 The case was not which they liked best — but which they 
 hated most; — and that least hated, passed for loved. 
 
 The dissolution of the coalition Parliament, as it afforded 
 the means of gratifying the resentment of the Nation, 
 could not fail to be popular: and from hence arose the 
 popularity of the Court. 
 
 Transitions of this kind exhibit a Nation under the 
 Government of temper, instead of a fixed and steady prin- 
 ciple ; and having once committed itself, however rashly, 
 it feels itself urged along to justify by continuance, its first 
 proceeding. — Measures, which at other times, it would 
 censure, it now approves, and acts persuasion upon itself to 
 suffocate its better judgment. 
 
 On the return of a new Parliament, the new Minister, Mr. 
 Pitt, found himself secure in a majority ; and the Nation 
 gave him credit, not out of regard to himself, but because 
 it had resolved to do it, out of resentment to another. 
 He introduced himself to public notice, by a proposed 
 Reform of Parliament, which, in its operation, would have 
 amounted to a public justification of corruption. The 
 Nation was to be at the expence of buying up the rotten- 
 boroughs, whereas it ought to punish the persons who deal 
 in the traffic. 
 
 Passing over the two bubbles of the Dutch business, and 
 the Million a year to sink the National debt, the matter 
 which most presents itself, is the affair of the Regency. 
 
 Never, in the course of my observation, was delusion 
 more successfully acted, nor a Nation more completely de- 
 ceived. But to make this appear, it will be necessary to go 
 over the circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Fox had stated, in the House of Commons, that the 
 Prince of Wales, as heir in succession, had a right in him- 
 self to assume trie Government. 
 
 This was opposed by Mr. Pitt ; and so far as the opposi- 
 tion was confined to the doctrine, it was just. But the 
 principles which Mr. Pitt maintained on the contrary side, 
 were as bad, or worse in their extent, than those of Mr. 
 Fox ; because they went to establish an aristocracy over the
 
 ?-'J ' RIGHTS OF JUN. 
 
 N'ation, and over the small representation it has iu the 
 House of Commons. 
 
 Whether the English form of Government be good, or 
 bad, is not, in this case, the question ; but, taking it as it 
 stands, without any regard to its merits, or demerits, Mr. 
 Pitt was farther from the point than Mr. Fox. 
 
 It is supposed to consist of three parts. While, therefore, 
 the N'ation is disposed to continue this form, the parts have 
 a National standing, independent of each other, and are not 
 the creatures of each other. Had Mr. Fox passed through 
 Parliament, and said the person alluded to claimed on the 
 ground of the Nation, Mr. Pitt must then have contended 
 what he called the right of the Parliament, against the right 
 of the Nation. 
 
 By the appearance which the contest made, Mr. Fox took 
 the hereditary ground, and Mr. Pitt the Parliamentary 
 ground; but the fact is, they both took hereditary ground, 
 and Mr. Pitt took the worst of the two. 
 
 What is called the Parliament, is made up of two houses; 
 one of which is more hereditary, and more beyond the 
 controul of the Nation, than what the crown, as it is called, 
 is supposed to be. It is an hereditary aristocracy, assuming 
 and asserting indefeasible, irrevocable rights and authority, 
 wholly independent of the Nation. Where, then, was the 
 merited popularity of exalting this hereditary power over 
 another hereditary power less independent of the Nation 
 than what itself assumed to be; and of absorbing the rights 
 of the Nation into a House -over which it has neither elec- 
 tion, nor controul ? 
 
 The general impulse of the Nation was right, but it 
 acted without reflection. It approved the opposition made 
 to the right set up by Mr. Fox, without perceiving that ]VJr. 
 Pitt was supporting another indefeasible right, more remote 
 iroru the Nation in opposition to it. 
 
 With respect to the House of Commons, it is elected but 
 by a small part of the Nation: but were the election as uni- 
 versal as taxation, which it ought to be, it would still be only 
 the organ of the Nation, and cannot possess inherent rights, 
 When the National Assembly of France resolves a matter, 
 the resolve is made in right of the Nation ; but Mr. Pitt, 
 on all National questions, so far as they refer to the House 
 of Commons, absorbs the rights of the Nation into the 
 organ, and makes the organ into a Nation ; and the Nation 
 itself into a cypher. 
 
 In a few words, the question on the Regency, was a ques- 
 tion on a million a year, which is appropriated to the exe-
 
 bjohts of j;a*- $*> 
 
 cutive department; and Mr. Pitt could not possess himself 
 of any management of this sum, w ithout setting up the 
 supremacy of Pailiament; and when this was accomplished, 
 it was indifferent: who should be Regent, as he must be 
 Regent at his own cost. 
 
 Among the curiosities which this contentious debate 
 afforded, was that of making the Great Seal into a King; 
 the affixing of which to an act, was to be royal authority! 
 If, therefore, royal authority is a Great Seal, it consequently 
 is in itself nothing ; and a good Constitution would be of 
 infinitely more value to the Nation, than what the three 
 nominal powers, as they now stand, are worth. 
 
 The continual use of the word Constitution in the English 
 Parliament shews there is none; and that the whole is 
 merely a form of Government without a Constitution, and 
 constituting itself with what powers it pleases. 
 
 If there were a Constitution, it could certainly be re- 
 ferred to; and the debate on any Constitutional point, 
 would terminate by producing the Constitution. One 
 member says, this is Constitution— and another says, tluit 
 is Constitution. To-day it is one thing, and to-morrow it 
 is something else — while the maintaining the debate proves 
 that there is none. 
 
 Constitution is now the cant word of Parliament, turning 
 itself to the ear of the Nation. Formerly, it was the uni- 
 versed supremacy of Parliament — the omnipotence of Par- 
 liament; — but since the progress of liberty in France, 
 those phrases have a despotic harshness in their note ; and 
 tl^e English Parliament have catched the fashion from the 
 National Assembly, but without, the substance, of speaking 
 of the Constitution. 
 
 As the present generation of the people in England did 
 not make the Government, they are not accountable for Any 
 of its defects ; but that, sooner or later, it must come into 
 their hands to undergo a Constitutional reformation, is as 
 certain as that the same thing has happened in France. 
 
 If France, with a revenue of nearly twenty-four millions 
 sterling ;' with an extent of rich and fertile country, above 
 four times larger than England ; with a population of 
 twenty-four millions of inhabitants to support taxation; 
 with upwards of ninety millions sterling of gold and silver 
 circulating in the Nation, and with a debt less than the 
 present debt of England — still found it necessary, from 
 whatever cause, to come to a settlement of its affairs, it 
 solve* the problem of funding for both countries.
 
 55 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 It is out of the question to say, how long what is called 
 the English Constitution has lasted, and to argue from 
 thence, how long it is to last. The question is, how long 
 can the funding system last? It is a thing of but modern 
 invention, and has not yet continued beyond the life of a 
 man; yet in that short space, it has so far accumulated, 
 that together with the current expences, it requires an 
 amount of taxes, equal to the whole rental of -the Nation 
 in acres, (o defray the annual expenditure. That a Go- 
 vernment could not always have gone on, by the same system 
 that has been followed for the last seventy years must be 
 evident to every man; and for the same reason it cannot 
 always goon. 
 
 The funding system is not money ; neither is it, properly 
 speaking, credit. It in effect, creates upon paper the sum 
 which it appears to borrow, and lays on a tax to keep the 
 imaginary capital, alive by the payment of interest, aiid 
 sends the annuity to market to be sold for paper already in 
 circulation. 
 
 J.f any credit is given, it is to the disposition of the people 
 to pay the tax, and not to the Government which lays it on. 
 When this disposition expires, what is supposed to be the 
 credit of Government expires with it. The instance 
 of France under her former Government, shews that it 
 is impossible to compel the payment of, taxes by force, 
 when a whole Nation is determined to take its stand upon 
 that ground. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in his review of the finances of France, states 
 the quantity of gold and silver in France, at about eighty- 
 eight millions sterling. 
 
 In doing this, he has, I presume, divided by the difference 
 of exchange, instead of the standard of twenty-four livres 
 to*a pound sterling; for M. Neckar's statement, from which 
 Mr. Burke's is taken, is two thousand two hundred millions 
 of livres, which is upwards of ninety-one millions and an 
 half sterling. 
 
 M. Neckar in France, and Mr. George Chalmers, of the 
 office of trade and plantation in England, of which Lord 
 Hawkesbury is president, published nearly about the same 
 time (1786) an account of the quantity of money in each 
 Nation, from the returns of the Mint of each Nation. 
 
 Mr. Chalmers, from the returns of the English Mint at 
 the Tower of London, states the quantity of money in Kng- 
 land, including Scotland and Ireland, to be twenty millions 
 sterling.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 86" 
 
 M. Neckar says, that the amount of money in France, re- 
 coined from the old coin which was called in, was two thou- 
 sand five hundred millions of livres, upwards of one hundred 
 and four millions sterling; and, after deducting for waste, 
 and what may be in the West Indies, and other possible cir- 
 cumstances, states the circulating quantity at home, to be 
 ninety-one millions and an half sterling; but taking it as Mr. 
 Burke has put it, it is sixty-eight millions more than the 
 National quantity in England. 
 
 That the quantity of money in France cannot be under 
 this sum, may at once be seen from the state of the French 
 levenue, without referring to the records of the French Mint 
 for proofs. The revenue of France, prior to the Revolution, 
 was nearly twenty-four millions sterling; and as paper had 
 then no existence in France, the whole revenue was collect- 
 ed upon gold and silver; and it would have been impossible 
 to have collected such a quantity of revenue, upon a less 
 National quantity than M. Neckar has stated. - 
 
 Before the establishment of paper in England, the reve- 
 nue was about a fourth part of the National amount of gold 
 and silver, as may be known by referring to the revenue prior 
 to King William ; and the quantity of money stated to be 
 in the Nation at that time, which was nearly as much as it 
 is now. 
 
 It can be of no real service to a Nation to impose upon 
 itsrlf, or permit itself to be imposed upon ; but the preju- 
 dices of some, and the imposition of others, have always re- 
 presented France has a Nation possessing but little money, 
 —whereas the quantity is not only more than four times 
 what the quantity is in England, but is considerably greater 
 on a proportion of numbers. 
 
 To account for this deficiency on the part of England, 
 some reference should be bad to the English system of fund- 
 ing. It operates to multiply paper, and to substitute it in 
 the room of money, in various shapes; and the more paper 
 is multiplied, the more opportunities are afforded to export 
 the specie ; and it admits of a possibility, by extending it to 
 small notes, of increasing paper till there is no money left. 
 
 I know this is not a pleasant subject to English readers ; 
 but ihe matters I am going to mention, are so important in 
 themselves, as to require the attention of men interested in 
 money transactions of a public nature. 
 
 There is a circumstance stated by M. Neckar, in his trea- 
 tise.on the administration of the finances, which has never 
 been attended to in England ; but which forms the only ba-
 
 S7 1U>HTS OP MAN. 
 
 sis whereon to estimate the quantity of money* (gold and 
 silver) which ought to b€ in every Nation in Europe, to pre- 
 serve a relative proportion with other Nations. 
 
 Lisbon and Cadiz are the two ports into which (money) 
 gold and silver from South America are imported, and which 
 afterwards divides and spreads itself over Europe by means 
 of commerce, and increases the quantity of money in all 
 parts of Europe. 
 
 If, therefore, the amount of the annual importation into 
 Europe can be known, and the relative proportion of the 
 commerce of the several Nations by which it is distributed 
 can be ascertained, they give a rule sufficiently true, to as- 
 certain the quantity of money which ought to be found in 
 any Nation at any given time. 
 
 M. Neckar shews from the registers of Lisbon and Cadiz, 
 that the importation of gold and silver into Europe, is fi.ve 
 millions sterling annually. He has not taken it on a single 
 year, but on an average of fifteen succeeding years, from 
 1763 to 1777, both inclusive; in which time, the amount 
 was one thousand three hundred million iivres, which is 
 seventy-five millions sterling. 
 
 From the commencement of the Hanover succession in 
 1714, to the time Mr. Chalmers published, is seventy-two 
 years; and the quantity imported into Europe, in that time, 
 would be three hundred and sixty millions sterling. 
 
 If the foreign commerce of Great Britain be stated a,t a 
 sixth part of what the whole foreign commerce of Europe 
 amounts to, (which is probably an inferior estimation to 
 what the gentlemen at the Exchange would allow) the pro- 
 portion which Britain should draw by commerce of this sum, 
 to keep herself' on a proportion with the rest of Europe, 
 would be also a sixth part, which is sixty millions sterling; 
 and if the same allowance for waste and accident be made 
 for England, which M. Neckar makes for France, the quan- 
 tity remaining after these deductions would be fifty. two 
 millions; and this sum ought to have been in the Nation 
 (at the time Mr. Chalmers published) in addition to the 
 sum which was in the Nation at the commencement of the 
 Hanover succession, and to have made in the whole, at least, 
 sixty-six millions sterling; instead of which there were but 
 twenty millions, which is forty-six millions below its pro- 
 portionate quantity. 
 
 As the quantity of gold and silver imported into Lisbon and 
 Cadiz,i8 more exactly ascertained than that of any other com- 
 modity imported into England ; and as the quantity of money
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. BS 
 
 coined in the Tower of London if; still more positively 
 known, the leading facts do nol admit of controvt 
 Either, therefore, the commerce of England ' s unproductive 
 of profit; or, the gold and silver which it brings in, leak 
 continually away by unseen means, at tiie average rate of 
 about three-quarters of a million a year; which, in the 
 course of seventy-two years, accounts for the deficiency, 
 and its absence is supplied with paper.* 
 
 * Whether the English commerce does not bring in money, 
 or whether the Government sends it out after it is brought in, is a 
 matter which the parties concerned can best explain ; but that the 
 deficiency exists is not in the power of either to disprove. While 
 Dr. Price, Mr. Eden, (now Auckland) Mr. Chalmers, and others, 
 were debating whether the quantity of money in E'dand was greater 
 or less than at the Revolution, the circumstance was not adverted 
 to, that since the Revolution, there cannot have been less than four 
 hundred millions sterling imported into Europe; and, therefore, 
 the quantity in England, ought at least to have been four times 
 greater than it was at the Revolution, to be on a proportion with 
 the rest of Europe. What England is now doing by paper, is what 
 she would have been able to have done by solid money, if gold and 
 silver had come into 1^he Nation in the proportion it ought, or had 
 not been sent out ; and she is endeavouring to restore by paper 
 the balance she has lost by money. It is certain, that the gold and 
 silver which arrives annually in the register-ships to Spain and Por- 
 tugal does not remain in those countries. Taking the value half in 
 gold, and half in silver, it is about lour hundred tons annually ; 
 and from the number of ships and galloons employed in the trade of 
 bringing those metals from South America to Portugal and Spain, 
 the quantity sufficiently proves itself, without referring to the re- 
 gister*, hi the situation England now is, it is impossible she can 
 increase in money. High taxes not only lessen the property of the 
 individuals, but they lessen also the money capital of a Naiion, by 
 induciug smuggling, which can only be carried on by gold and 
 silver. I3y the politics which the British Government havecarric I 
 on with the inland powers of Germany and the Continent, it has 
 made an enemy of all the maritime powers, and is there fore obliged 
 to keep up a large navy ; but though the navy is built in Midland, 
 the naval 3tores must be purchased from abroad, and that from 
 countries where the greatest part must be paid for in'gold and Oli- 
 ver. Some fallacious rumours have been set afioat in England, to 
 induce a belief of money ; and, among others, that of the French 
 lefugecs bringing great quantities. The idea is ridiculous. The 
 general part of the money in France is silver ; and it wonid t;ike 
 upwards <jf twenty of the largest broad wheel waggon*, with ten
 
 89 RIGHTS OP MAM. 
 
 The Revolution of France is attended with many novel 
 circumstances, not only in the political sphere, but in the 
 circle of money transactions. 
 
 Among others, it shews, that a Government may be in a 
 state of insolvency, and a Nation rich. So far as the fact is 
 confined to the late Government of France, it was insolvent; 
 because the Nation would no longer support its extravagance ; 
 and, therefore, it could no longer support itself — but with 
 respect to the Nation, all the means existed. 
 
 A Government may be said to be insolvent, every time it 
 applies to a Nation, to discharge its arrears. The insolven- 
 cy of the late Government of France, and the present Go- 
 vernment of England, differed in no other respect than as 
 the dispositions of the people differ. The people of France 
 refused their aid to the old Government; and the people of 
 England submit to taxation without enquiry. 
 
 What is called the crown in England, has been insolvent 
 several times ; the last of which, publicly known, was in 
 May 1777, wheu it applied to the Nation to discharge up- 
 wards of 600,0001. private debts, which otherwise it could 
 not pay. \ 
 
 It was the error of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Burke, and all those un- 
 acquainted with the affairs of France, to confound the 
 French Nation with the French Government. 
 
 The French Nation, in effect, endeavoured to render the 
 late Government insolvent, for the purpose of taking Go- 
 vernment into its own hands ; and it reserved its means for 
 the support of the new Government. In a country of such 
 
 horses each, to remove one million sterling in silver. Is it then 
 to be supposed, that a tew people, fleeing on horseback, or 
 in post-chaUes, in a secret manner, and having the French Cus-tom- 
 House to pass, and the sea to cross, could bring even a sufficien- 
 cy for their own expencts ? When millions of money are spoken 
 of, it should be recollected, that such sums can only accumulate in 
 a country by slow degrees, and a long procession of time. The 
 most frugal system that England coujd now adopt, would not reco- 
 ver, in a century, the balance she has lost in money since the com- 
 mencement of the Hanover Succession. She is seventy millions 
 behind France, and she must be in some considerable proportion 
 behind every country in Europe, because the returns of the English 
 Mint do not shew an increase of money, while the registers of Lis- 
 bon and Cadiz shew an European increase of between three and 
 four hundred millions sterling.
 
 RroitTS OP MAN. 
 
 vast extent, oiul population ;is France., tbe natural means 
 cannot be wanting; and the political means appear the 
 instant the Nation \s dispose.! to permit them. When Mr. 
 Burke, in a speech ra«t winter id the British Parliament, 
 cast his eyes over tiie map of Etfro'pef, and saw a chasm 
 that once was France, he talked like a dreamer of ttr*ams. 
 The same natural V ranee existed as before, and all the 
 natural means existed with it. The oniy chasm was that 
 which the extinction of despotism had left ; and which 
 was to be filled up with a Constitution moiv formidable in 
 resources, than the power which hadexpir*. 1. 
 
 Although the French Nation rendered the late Govern- 
 ment insolvent, it did not permit the insolvency to act 
 towards the creditors; and the creditors considering the 
 Nation as the real paymaster, and the Government only as 
 the agent, rested themselves on the Nation, in preference to 
 the Government. 
 
 This appears greatly to disturb Mr. Burke, as the prece- 
 dent is fatal to the poiicy by which Governments have 
 supposed themselves secure. They have contracted debts, 
 with a view of attaching what is called the monied interest 
 of a Nation to their support; but the example in France 
 shews, that the permanent security of the creditor is in th* 
 Nation, and not in the Government; and that in all possible 
 Revolutions that may happen in Governments, the means 
 aie always with the Nation, and the Nation always in 
 existence. 
 
 Mr. Burke argues, that the creditors ought to have abided 
 the fate of the Government which they trusted ; but the 
 National Assembly considered them as the creditors of 
 the Nation, and not of the Government — of the master, and 
 not of the steward. 
 
 Notwithstanding the late Government could not dis- 
 charge the current expences, the present Government has 
 paid off a great part of the capital. This has been accom- 
 plished by two means; the one by lessening the expeuces 
 of Government, and the other by the sale of the monastic 
 and ecclesiastical landed estates. 
 
 The devotees, and penitent debauchees, extortioners, and 
 misers, of former days, to ensure themselves a better world 
 than that which they were about to leave, had bequeathed 
 immense property in trust, to the priesthood for pious uses, and 
 the priesthood kept it for themselves. The National Assembly 
 has ordered it to ba sold, for the good of the whole Nation, 
 and the priesthood to be decently provided for.
 
 91 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 In consequence of th* Revolution, the annual interest of 
 the debt, of Fiance, will be reduced at least six millions 
 sterling, by paying oft* upwards of one hundred millions of 
 the capital : which, with lessening the former expences of 
 Government at least three millions, will place France in a 
 situation worthy the imitation of Europe. 
 
 Upon a whole review of the subject, how vast is the 
 contrast! While Mr. Burke has been talking of a general 
 bankruptcy in France, the National Assembly has been 
 paying off the capital of its debt ; and while the taxes have 
 encreased near a million a^ year in England, they have 
 lowered several millions a year in France. 
 
 Not a word has either Mr. Burke, or Mr. Pitt said about 
 French affairs, or the state of- the French finances, in the 
 present session of Parliament. The subject begins to be 
 too well uuderstood, and imposition serves no longer. 
 
 There is a general enigma running through the whole of 
 Mr. Burke's book. He writes in a rage against the National 
 Assembly, but what is he enraged about ? If his assertions 
 were as true as the*y are groundless, and that France, 
 by her Revolution, had annihilated her power, and be- 
 come what he calls a chasm, it might excite the grief of 
 a Frenchman, considering himself as a National man, and 
 provoke his rage against the National Assembly ; but why 
 should it excite the rage of Mr. Burke? Alas? it is not the 
 Nation of France that Mr. Burke means, but the COURT; 
 and every Court in Europe, dreading the same fate, is in 
 mourning. He writes neither in the character of an En- 
 glishman, nor a Frenchman; but in the fawning character 
 of that creature, known in all countries, and a friend to 
 none — a Courtier. Whether it be the Court of Versailles, 
 or the Court of St. James's, or Carlton- House, or the Court 
 in Expectation, signifies not; for the caterpillar principles of 
 all Courts, and Courtiers, arealike. They form a common 
 policy throughout Europe, detached and separate from the 
 interest of Nations: and white they appear to quarrel, they 
 agree to plunder. Nothing can be more terrible to a Court, 
 or a Courtier, than the Revolution of France. That which 
 is a blessing to Nations, is bitterness to them ; and as their 
 existence depends on the duplicity of a country, they 
 tremble at the approach of principles, and dread ihe pre- 
 cedent that threatens their overthrow.
 
 KIUHTS OF WAX. Q% 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Reason, and Ignorance, the opposites of each other, 
 influence the great bulk of mankind. If either of these 
 can be rendered sufficiently extensive in a country, the 
 machinery of Government goes easily on. Reason obeys 
 itself; and ignorance submits to whatever is dictated to it. 
 
 The two modes of Government which prevail in the 
 world, are — 
 
 First, Government by election and representation. 
 
 Secondly, Government by hereditary succession. 
 
 The former is generally known by the name of a re- 
 public ; and the latter by that of monarchy and aristocracy. 
 
 Those two distinct and opposite forms, erect themselves 
 on the two distinct and opposite bases of Reason and Ig- 
 norance. 
 
 As the exercise of Government requires talents and abili- 
 ties, and as talents and abilities cannot have hereditary 
 descent, it is evident that hereditary succession requires a 
 belief from man to which his reason cannot subscribe, and 
 which can only be established upon his ignorance; and the 
 more ignorant any country is, the better it is fitted for this 
 species of Government. 
 
 On the contrary, Government in a well-constituted re- 
 public, requires no belief from man beyond what his reason 
 can give. 
 
 He sees the rationale of the whole system, its origin and 
 its operation ; and as it is best supported when best under- 
 stood, the human faculties act with boldness, and acquire 
 under this form of Government, a gigantic manliness. 
 
 As therefore each of those forms acts on a different base, 
 the one moving freely by the aid of Reason, the other by 
 Ignorance; we have next to consider, what it is that gives 
 motion to that species of Government which is called 
 Mixed Government; or, as it is sometimes ludicrously 
 styled, a Government of this, that and t'other. 
 
 The moving power in this species of Government, is 
 of necessity, Corruption. However imperfect election and 
 representation may be, in Mixed Governments, they still 
 give exercise to a greater portion of reason than is conve- 
 nient to the hereditary part; and therefore it becomes 
 necessary to buy the reason up.
 
 f)3 BIGHTS OF MAK. 
 
 A Mixed Government is an imperfect every thing; 
 cementing and soldering the discordant parts together by 
 corruption, to act as a whole. 
 
 Mr. Burke appears highly disgusted, that France, since 
 she had resolved on a Revolution, did not adopt what he 
 calls, " A British Constitution ;" and the regretful manner 
 in which he expressed himself on this occasion, implies a 
 suspicion that the British Constitution needed something to 
 keep its defects in countenance. 
 
 In Mixed Governments there is no responsibility ; the 
 parts cover each over till responsibility is lost ; and the cor- 
 ruption which moves the machine,* contrives at the same 
 time its own G&cape. When it is laid down as a maxim, 
 that a King can do no wrong, it places him in a state of 
 similar security with that of ideots, and persons insane, 
 and responsibility is out of the question with respect to 
 himself. 
 
 It then descends upon the Minister, who shelters himself 
 under a majority in Parliament; which by places, pensions, 
 and corruption, he can always dbmmthd: and that majority 
 justifies itself by the same authority with which it protects 
 the Minister. 
 
 In this rotatory motion, responsibility is thrown oif from 
 the parts, and from the whole. 
 
 When there is a part in a Government which ran do no 
 wrong, it implies that it does nothing; and is only the 
 machine of another power, by whose advice and direction 
 it acts. 
 
 What is supposed to be the King in a Mixed Govern- 
 ment, is the Cabinet; and as the Cabinet is always a part of 
 the Parliament, and the members justifying in one character 
 •what they advise, and act in another, a Mixed Government 
 becomes a continual enigma ; entailing -upon a country, by 
 the quantity of corruption necessary to solder the parts, 
 the expence of supporting all the forms of Government at 
 once; and finally resolving itself injo a Government by 
 Committee: in which the advisers, the actors, the ap- 
 provers, the justifiers, the persons responsible, and the 
 persons not responsible, are the same persons. 
 
 By this pantomimical contrivance, and change of scene 
 and character, the parts help each other out in matters 
 which neither of them singly would assume to act. 
 
 When money is to be obtained, the mass of variety ap- 
 parently dissolves, and a profusion of Parliamentary praises 
 , passes between the parts. Each admires- tfith astonish-
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. Ql 
 
 merit, the wisdom, the liberality, the disinterestedness, of the 
 other ; and all of them breathe a pitying sigh at the heavy 
 burthens of the Nation. 
 
 But in a well constituted republic, nothing of this solder- 
 ing, praising, and pitying, can take place* The representa- 
 tion being equal throughout I he country, and complete in 
 itself, however it may he arranged into legislative and exe- 
 cutive, they have ail one and the same natural source. 
 
 The parts are not foreigners to each other, like democracy, 
 aristocracy, and monarchy. 
 
 As there are no discordant distinctions, there is nothing 
 to corrupt by compromise, nor confound by contrivance. 
 
 Public measures appeal of themselves to the understand- 
 ing of the Nation, and resting on their own merits, disowu 
 any flattering application to vanity. 
 
 The continual whine of lamenting the burthen of taxes, 
 however successfully it may be practised in Mixed Govern- 
 ments, is inconsistent with the sense and spirit of a re- 
 public. If taxes are necessary, tiny are of course advan- 
 tageous; but if they require an apology, the apology itself 
 implies an impeachment. 
 
 Why, then, is Man thus imposed upon? Or, why doc< 
 he impose upon himself? 
 
 When men are spoken of as Kings, and Subjects; or when 
 Government is mentioned under the distinct, or combined 
 heads of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, what, is it 
 that reasoning Man is to understand by the terms ? If 
 there really existed in the world two, or more, distii*.t and 
 separate elements of human power, we should then see the 
 several origins to which those terms would descriptively 
 apply ; but as there is but one species of man, there can be 
 but one element of human power ; and that element is man 
 himself. Monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, arc but 
 creatures of imagination ; and a thousand such m;.y be con- 
 trived, as well as three. 
 
 From the Revolutions of America and Frame, and the 
 symptoms that have appeared in otln r rountries, it is evi- 
 dent, that the opinion of the world is"chan;jing with respet t 
 to systems of Government, and that Revolutions are not 
 within the compass of political calculations. 
 
 The progress of time and circumstance*, which men 
 assign to the accomplishment ftf great changes, is too me-
 
 9 J RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 chanical to measure the force of the mind, and the rapidity 
 of" reflection, by which Revolutions are generated. All the 
 old Governments have received a shock from those that 
 already appear; and which were once more improbable, 
 and are a greater subject of wonder, than a general Revolu- 
 tion in Europe would be now. 
 
 When we survey the wretched condition of Man, under 
 the monarchical and hereditary systems of Government, 
 dragged from his home by one power, or driven by another, 
 and impoverished by taxes more than by enemies, it be- 
 comes evident that those systems are bad, and that a general 
 Revolution in the principle and construction of Government 
 is necessary. 
 
 What is Government more than the management of the 
 affairs of a Nation? It is not, and from its nature 
 cannot be, the property of any particular man or family ; 
 but of the whole community, at whose expence it is sup- 
 ported ; and though by force, or contrivance, it has been 
 usurped into an inheritance, the usurpation cannot alter 
 the right of things. 
 
 Sovereignty, as a matter of right, appertains to the 
 Nation only, and not to any individual; and a Nation has 
 at all times an inherent indefeasible right to abolish any 
 form of Government it fiuds inconvenient, and establish 
 such as accords with its interest, disposition, and happiness. 
 The romantic, and barbarous distinction of men into Kings 
 and Subjects, though it may suit the condition of Courtiers, 
 cannot that of Citizens ; and is exploded by the principle 
 upon which Governments are now founded. Every Citizen 
 is a member of the sovereignty, and as such can acknow- 
 ledge no personal subjection; and his obedience can be 
 only to the laws. 
 
 When men think of what Government is, they must neces- 
 sarily suppose it to possess a knowledge of all the objects and 
 matters upon which its authority is to be exercised. In this 
 view of Government, the republican system, as established 
 by America, an 1 France, operates to embrace the whole 
 of a Nation; and the knowledge necessary to the interest of 
 all the parts, is to be found in the centre, which the parts 
 by representation form. But theoid Governments are on a 
 construction that excludes knowledge ns well as happiness. 
 Government by Monks, who know nothing of the world bt- 
 yond the walls of a convent, is as consistent as Government 
 by Kings. 
 
 What were formerly called Revolutions, were little mor*
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 96 
 
 than a change of persons, or an alteration of local circum- 
 stances. They rose, and fell, like things of course, and had 
 nothing in their existence or their fate that could influence 
 beyond the spot that produced them. But what we now see 
 in the world from the Revolution of America and France, 
 is a renovation of the general order of things, a system of 
 principles as universal as truth and the existence of man; 
 and combining moral, with political happiness, and National 
 prosperity. 
 
 /. Men are born, and always continue free, and eqxial in re* 
 spect of their rights. Civil distinctions, therefore, can be found- 
 ed only on public utility. 
 
 I J. The end of all political associations is the preservation of 
 the natural, and imprescriptible Rights of Man ; and these 
 Rights are liberty, property, security, and resistance of op- 
 pression. 
 
 II T. The Nation is, essentially, the source of all Sove- 
 reignty; nor can any individual, or any' body of men, 
 be entitled to any authority which is not expressly derived 
 from it. 
 
 In these principles, there is nothing to throw a Nation 
 into confusion, by inflaming ambition. They are calculated 
 to call forth wisdom and abilities, and to exercise them for 
 the public good, and not for the emolument or aggrandize- 
 ment of particular descriptions of men, or families. Mo- 
 narchical sovereignty, the enemy of mankind, and the source 
 of misery, is abolished ; and sovereignty itself is restored to 
 its natural and original place — the Nation. Were this the 
 case throughout Europe, the cause of wars would be taken 
 away. 
 
 It is is attributed to Henry the Fourth of France, a man of 
 an enlarged and a benevolent heart, that he proposed^ about 
 the year 1020, a plan for abolishing war in Europe. The 
 plan consisted in constituting an European Congress, or, as 
 the French Authors style it, a Pacific Republic; by appoint- 
 ing delegates from the several Nations, who were to act as 
 a Court of Arbitration, in any disputes that might arise be- 
 tween Nation, and Nation. 
 
 Had such a plan been adopted at the time it was pro- 
 posed, the taxes of England and France, as two of the par* 
 ties, would have been at least ten millions sterling annually 
 to each Nation less than they vveje uc the commencement of 
 the French Revolution. 
 
 To conceive a cause why such a plan has not been adopted, 
 and that instead of a Congress for the purpose of preventing war,
 
 <>7 RIGHTS OP MAN. 
 
 it has been called only to terminate a war, after a fruitless 
 ex pence of several years, it will be necessary to consider the 
 interest of Governments as a distinct interest to that of 
 Nations. 
 
 Whatever is the cause of taxes to a Nation, becomes also 
 the means of revenue to a Government. Every war terminates 
 with an addition of taxes, and consequently, with an addition 
 of revenue; and in any event of war, in the manner they are 
 now commenced and concluded, the power and interest of 
 Governments are increased. War, therefore, from its produc- 
 tiveness, as it easily furnishes the pretence of necessity for 
 taxes, and appointments to places, and offices, becomes a 
 principal parr, of the system of old Governments ; and to 
 establish any modi to abolish war, however advantageous it 
 might he to Nations, would he to take from such Govern- 
 ment the most lucrative of its branches. The frivolous 
 matters upon which war is made, shew the disposition 
 and avidity oi'Governments to uphold the system of war, 
 and betray the motives upon which they act. 
 
 Why are not Republics plunged into war, but because the 
 nature of their Government does not admit of an interest 
 distinct from that of the Nation ? Even Holland, though an 
 ill-constructed Republic, and with a commerce extending 
 over the world, existed nearly a century without war; and 
 the instant the form of Government was changed in France, 
 the republican principle? of peace and domestic piosperity, 
 and economy, arose with the new Government ; and the same 
 consequences would follow the same causes in other 
 Nations. 
 
 As war is the system of Government on the old construc- 
 tion, the animosity which Nations reciprocally entertain, is 
 nothing more than what the policy of their Governments 
 excite, to keep up the spirit of the system. Each Govern- 
 ment accuses the other of perfidity, intrigue, and ambi- 
 tion, as a means of heating the imagination of their respec- 
 tive Nations, and incensing them to hostilities. Man is not 
 the enemy of Man, but through the medium of a false sys- 
 tem of Government. Instead, therefore, of exclaiming 
 against the ambition of Kings, the exclamation should be 
 directed against, the principles of such Governments; and, 
 instead of seeking to reform tin individual, the wisdom of a 
 Nation should apply itse!i*to reform the system. 
 
 Whether the forms and maxims of Governments which are 
 still in practice, were adapted to the condition of the world
 
 RIGHTS OK MAX. 98 
 
 at the period they were established, is not in this case the 
 question. The older they are, the less correspondence can 
 they have with the present state of things. 
 
 Time, and change of circumstances and opinions, have 
 the same progressive effect in rendering modes of Govern- 
 ment obsolete, as they have upon customs and manners. 
 
 Agriculture, commerce, manufactures, and the tranquil 
 arm, by which the prosperity of Nations is best promoted, 
 require a different system of Government, and a different 
 species of knowledge to direct its operations, than what 
 might have been required in the former condition of the 
 world. 
 
 As it is not difficult to perceive, from the. enlightened 
 state of mankind, that hereditary Governments are verging 
 to their decline, a;id that Revolutions on the broad basis of 
 National sovereignty, and Government by representation, are 
 making their way in Europe, it whould be an act of wisdom 
 to anticipate their approach, and produce Revolutions by 
 reason and accommodation, rather than commit them to the 
 issue of convulsions. 
 
 From what we now see, nothing of reform in the political 
 world ought to be held improbable. It is an age of Re?o- 
 iutions, in which every thing may be looked for. 
 
 The intrigue of Courts, by which the system of war is 
 kept up, may provoke a confederation of Natious to abolish 
 it; and an European Congress, to patronise the progress of 
 free Government, and promote the civilization of Nations 
 with each other, is an event nearer in probability, than once 
 were the Revolutions and Alliance of Frauce and America. 
 
 t;y» of part mr, first.

 
 THE 
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN, 
 
 PART THE SECOND , 
 
 COMBINING 
 
 PRINCIPLE AND PRACTICE. 
 
 BY THOMAS PAINE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY W. T. SHERWIN, 183, FLEET STREET. 
 1817.
 
 
 
 
 
 t
 
 TO 
 
 M. DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 After an acquaintance of nearly fifteen years, in difficult 
 situations in America, and various consultations in Europe, 
 I feel a pleasure in presenting to you this small treatise, in 
 gratitude for your services to my beloved America, and as a 
 testimony of my esteem for the virtues, public and private., 
 which I know you to possess. 
 
 The only point upon which I could ever discover that we 
 differed, was not as to principles of Government, but as to 
 timi. For my own part, I think it equally as injurious to 
 good principles to permit them to linger, as to push them 
 on too fast. That which you suppose accomplishable in 
 fourteen or fifteen years, I may believe practicable in a 
 much shorter period. Mankind, as it appears to me, are 
 always ripe enough to understand their true interest, pro- 
 vided it be presented clearly to their understanding, and 
 that in a manner not to create suspicion by any thing like 
 self-design, nor offend by assuming too much. Where we 
 would wish to reform we must not reproach. 
 
 When the American Revolution was established, I felt a 
 disposition to sit serenely down and enjoy the calm. It did 
 not appear to me that any object could afterwards arise grwit 
 enough to make me quit tranquillity, and feel as I had felt 
 before. But when principle, and not place, is the energetic 
 cause of action, a man, I find, is every where the same.
 
 To M. De La Fayette. 
 
 I am now once more in the public world ; and as I have 
 net a right to contemplate on so many years of remaining 
 life as you have, I am resolved to labour as fast as I can ; 
 and as I am anxious for your aid and your company, I wish 
 you to hasten your principles and overtake me. 
 
 If you make a campaign the ensuing spring, which it is 
 most probable there will be no occasion for, I will come and 
 join you. Should the campaign commence, I hope it will 
 terminate in the extinction of German despotism, and in 
 establishing the freedom of Germany. When France shall 
 be surrounded with Revolutions, she will be in peace and 
 safety, and her taxes, as well as those of Germany, will 
 consequently become less. 
 
 Your sincere, 
 
 Affectionate Friend, 
 
 THOMAS PAINE. 
 London, Feb. 9, 1792.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 • 
 
 When I began the chapter entitled the " Conclution" in 
 the former part of the RIGHTS OF MAN, published last 
 year, it was my intention to have extended it to a greater 
 length; but in casting the whole matter in my mind which 
 I wished to add, I found that I must either make the work 
 too bulky, or contract my plan too much, I, therefore, 
 brought it to a close as soon as the subject would admit, 
 and reserved what I had further to say to another oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 Several other reasons contributed to produce this deter- 
 mination. I wished to know the manner in which a work, 
 written in a style of thinking and expression different to 
 what had been customary in England, would be received 
 before I ventured farther. A great field wns opening to the 
 view of mankind by means of the French Revolution. Mr. 
 Burke's outrageous opposition thereto brought the contro- 
 versy into England. He attacked principles which he 
 knew (from information) I would contest with him, because 
 they are principles which I believe to be good, and which I 
 have contributed to establish, and conceive myself bound to 
 defend. Had he not urged the controversy, I had most 
 probably been a silent man. 
 
 Another reason for deferring the remainder of the Work 
 was, that Mr. Burke promised in his first publication to 
 renew the subject at another opportunity, and to make a 
 comparison of what he called the English and French 
 Constitutions. I therefore held myself in reserve for him. 
 He has published two Works since, without doing this; 
 which he certainly would not hare omitted, had the com- 
 parison been in hi6 favour.
 
 tl PREFACE. 
 
 In his last Work, " His Appeal from the new to t\e old 
 Whigs," he has quoted about ten pages from the Rights of 
 Man, and having given himself the trouble of doing this, 
 says, " he shall not attempt in the smallest degree to re- 
 fute them," meaning the principles therein contained. I 
 am enough acquainted with Mr. Burke to know, that he 
 would if he could. But instead of contesting them, he 
 immediately after consoles himself with saying, that *' h« 
 has done his part." — He has not done his part. He has not 
 performed his promise of a comparison of Constitutions. 
 He started the controversy, he gave the challenge, and has 
 fled from it; and he is now a case in point with his own 
 opinion, that, " the age of chivalry is gone f" 
 
 The title, as well as the substance of his last Work, liis 
 " Appeal" is his condemnation. Principles mu6t stand on 
 their 6wn merits, and if they are good they certainly will. 
 To put them under the shelter of other men's authority, as 
 Mr. Burke has done, serves to bring them into suspicion. 
 Mr. Burke is not very fond of dividing his honours, but in 
 this case he is artfully dividing the disgrace. But who ar« 
 those to whom Mr. Burke made his appeal? A set o£ 
 childish thinkers, and half-way politicians born in the last 
 century; men who went no farther with any principle than 
 as it suited their purpose as a party ; the Nation was always 
 left out of the question ; and this has been the'characterof 
 every party from that day to this. The l^ation sees 
 nothing in such Works, or such politics worthy its attention. 
 A little matte/ will move a party, but it must be something 
 great that moves a Nation. 
 
 Though 1 see nothing in Mr. Burke's Appeal worth tak- 
 ing much notice pf, there is, however, one expression upon 
 which I shall offer a few remarks. — After quoting largely 
 from the Rights'rf Man, and declining to contest the prin- 
 ciples contained in that work, he says, "This will most 
 probably be done, [if such writings shall he thought to deserve 
 anf other refutation than that of criminal justice) by others 
 who may think with Mr. Burke, and with the same zeal.
 
 PREFACB. V.. 
 
 In the first place, it has not yet been done by any body 
 Not less, I believe, than eight or ten pamphlets, intended at 
 answers to the former parts of the " Rights of Man," have 
 been published by different persons, and not one of them, to 
 my knowledge, has extended to a second edition, nor are? 
 even the titles of them so much as generally remembered. 
 AbI am averse to unnecessarily multiplying publications, I 
 have answered none of them. And as I believe that a man 
 may write himself out of reputation, when no body else can 
 do it, I am" careful to avoid that rock. 
 
 But as I would decline unnecessary publications on the 
 one hand, so would I avoid every thing that might appear 
 like sullen pride on the other. If Mr. Burke, or any person 
 on his side the question, will produce an answer to the 
 " Rights of Man," that shall extend to an half, or even to a 
 fourth part of the number of copies to which the Rights of 
 Man extended, I will reply to his work. But until this be 
 done, I shall so far take the sense of the public for my guide, 
 (and the world knows I am not a flatterer) that what they 
 do not think worth while to read, is not worth mine to an- 
 swer. I suppose the number of copies to which part of the 
 Mights of Man extended, taking England, Scotland, and Ire- 
 land, is not less than between forty and fifty thousand. 
 
 I now come to remark on the remaining part of the quo- 
 tation I have made from Mr. Burke. 
 
 *f If," says he, " such writings shall be thought to deserve 
 any other refutation than that of criminal justice." 
 
 Pardoning the pun, it must be criminal justice indeed, that 
 Bhould condemn a work as a substitute for not being able to 
 Tefute it. The greatest condemnation that could be passed 
 upon it, would be a refutation. But in proceeding by the 
 method Mr. Burke alludes to, the condemnation would, in 
 the final event, pass upon the criminality of the process, and 
 not upon the work; and, in this case, I had rather be the 
 author, than be either the judge, or the jury, that should 
 condemn it. 
 
 But to come at once to the point. I have differed from 
 fome professional gentlemen on the subject of prosecutions,
 
 *Hi PREFACE. 
 
 and I since find they are falling into my opinion, which 1 
 will here state as fully, but as concisely as I can. 
 
 I will first put a case with respect to any law, and then 
 compare it with a Government, or with what in England is, 
 or has been, called a Constitution. 
 
 It would be an act of despotism, or what in England is 
 called arbitrary power, to make a law to prohibit investigat- 
 ing the principles, good^ or bad, on which such a law, 
 or any other is founded. 
 
 If a law be bad, it is one thing to oppose the practice of 
 it, but it is quite a different thing to expose its errors, to 
 reason on its defects, and to shew cause why it should be 
 repealed, or why another ought to be substituted in its 
 place. I have always held it an opinion (making it also my 
 practice) that it is better to obey a bad law, making use at 
 the same time, of every argument to shew its errors 
 and procure its repeal, than forcibly to violate it; because 
 the precedent of breaking a bad law might weaken the force, 
 and lead to a discretionary violation, of those which are 
 good. 
 
 The case is the same with respect to principles and forms 
 of Government, or to what are called Constitutions and the 
 parts of which they are composed. 
 
 It is for the good of Nations, and not for the emolument 
 or aggrandizement of particular individuals, thatGovernment 
 ought to be established, and that mankind are at the ex- 
 pence of supporting it. The defects of every Government 
 and Constitution, both as to principle and form, must, on a 
 parity of reasoning, be as 'open to discussion as the defects 
 of a law, and it is a duty which every man owes to society 
 to point them out. When those defects, and the means of 
 remedying them, are generally seen by a Nation, that Na- 
 tion will reform its Government or its Constitution in the 
 one case, as the Government repealed or reformed the law in 
 the other. The operation of Government is restricted to the 
 making and the administering of laws ; but it is to a Nation 
 that the right of forming or reforming, generating or regene- 
 rating Constitutions aud Governments belong; and, couse-
 
 PREFACE. i* 
 
 quently, those subjects, as subjects of investigation, are al- 
 ways before a country as a matter of right, and cannot, with- 
 out invading the general rights of the country, be made sub- 
 jects for prosecution. On this ground I will meet Mr. Burke 
 whenever he please. It is better that the whole argument 
 should come out, than to seek to stifle it. It was himself 
 that opened the controversy, and he ought not to desert it. 
 
 I do not believe that Monarchy and Aristocracy will con- 
 tinue seven years longer in any of the enlightened countries 
 in Europe. If better reasons can be shewn for them than 
 against them, they will stand; if the contrary, they will not. 
 Mankind are not now to be told they shall not think, or 
 they shall not read ; and publications that go no farther than 
 to investigate principles of Government, to invite men to 
 reason and to reflect, and to shew the errors and excellencies 
 of different systems, have a right to appear. If they do not 
 excite attention, they are not worth the trouble of a prose, 
 cution ; and if they do, the prosecution will amount to no- 
 thing, since it canuot amount to a prohibition of reading. 
 This would be a sentence on the public, instead of the au- 
 thor, and would also be the most effectual mode of making 
 or hastening revolutions. 
 
 On all cases that apply universally to a Nation, with re- 
 spect to systems of Government, a jury of twelve men is not 
 com peteo£t6 decide. Where there are no witnesses to be 
 examine!!, no facts to be proved, and where the whole mat- 
 ter is before the whole public, and the merits or demerits 
 of it resting on their opinion ; and where there is nothing 
 to be known in a Court, but what every body knows out of 
 it, every twelve men is equally as good a jury a9 the other, 
 and would most probably reverse each other's verdict; or 
 from the variety of their opinions, not be able to form one. 
 It is one case, whether a Nation approve a work, or a plan ; 
 but is quite another case, whether it will commit to any 
 such jury the power of determining whether (hat Nation 
 have a right to, or shall reform its Government, or-not. I 
 mention those cases, that Mr. Burke may 6ee I have not
 
 X *RBFAC*f. 
 
 written on Government without reflecting on what is Law, 
 as well as on what are Rights. — The only effectual jury hi 
 such cases would be, a convention of the whole Nation 
 fairly elected ; for in all such cases the whole Nation is tiie 
 vicinage. If Mr. Burke will propose such a jury, I will wave 
 Ell privileges of being the citizen of any other country, and, 
 defending its principles, abide the issue, provided he will do 
 the same; for my opinion is, that his work and his princi- 
 ples would be condemned instead of mine. 
 
 As to the prejudices which men have from education and 
 habit, in favour of any particular form or system of Govern- 
 ment, those prejudices have yet to stand the test of reason 
 and reflection. In fact, such prejudices are nothing. No 
 man is prejudiced in favour of a thing, knowing it to be 
 ■wrong. He is attached to it on the belief of its being right ; 
 and when he sees it is not so, the prejudice will be gone. 
 We have but a defective idea of what prejudice is. It might 
 be said, that until men think for themselves, the whole is 
 prejudice, and not opinion; for that only is opinion which is 
 the result of reason and reflection. I offer this remark, that 
 Mr. Burke may not confide too much in what has been the 
 customary prejudices of the country. 
 
 . I do not believe that the people of England have ever been 
 fairly and candidly dealt by. They have been imposed upon 
 by parties, and by men assuming the character of leaders. 
 It is time that the Nation should rise above those trifles. 
 It is time to dismiss that inattention which has so long been 
 the encouraging cause of stretching taxation to excess. It 
 is time to dismiss all those songs and toasts which are cal- 
 culated to enslave, and operate to suffocate reflection. On 
 all such subjects, men have but to think, and they will 
 neither act wrong, nor be misled. To say that any people 
 are not, fit for freedom, is to make poverty their choice, and 
 to say they had rather be loaded with taxes than not. If 
 such a case could be proved, it would equally prove, that 
 those who govern are not fit to govern them, for they are t 
 part of the same National mass.
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 But admitting Governments to be changed all over Europe, 
 it certainly may be done without convulsion or revenge. 
 It is not worth making changes or revolutions, unless it be 
 for some great National benefit; and when this shall appear 
 to a Nation, the danger will be, as in America and France, 
 to those who oppose; and with this reflection I close my 
 Preface. 
 
 THOMAS PAINE. 
 London, Feb.9th t 1W2.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Of Society and Civilization. 
 
 CHAPTER JI. 
 Of the Origin of the present Old Government!. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Of the new and old Systems of Governments. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Of Constitutions. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Ways and Means of reforming the political Condition of 
 » Europe, interspersed with Miscellaneous Observations. 
 
 Appendix.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 ffl 
 
 PART II. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 What Archimedes said of the mechanical powers, may 
 be applied to Reason and Liberty ; " Had we" said hq, 
 a place to stand upon, we might rahe the world." 
 
 The Revolution of America presented in politics what 
 was only theory in mechanics. So deeply rooted were all 
 the Governments of the old world, and so effectually had 
 the tyranny and the antiquity of habit established itself 
 over the mind, that no beginning could be made in Asia, 
 Africa, or Europe, to reform the political condition of Man. 
 Freedom had been hunted round the globe ; reason was 
 considered as rebellion; and the slavery of fear had made 
 men afraid to think. 
 
 But such is the irresistible nature of truth, that all it 
 asks, and all it wants, is the liberty of appearing.' The sun 
 needs no inscription to distinguish him from darkness; and 
 no sooner did the American Governments display them- 
 selves to the world, than despotism felt a shock, and man 
 began to contemplate redress. 
 
 The Independence of America, considered merely as a 
 separation from England, would have been a matter of 
 but little importance, had it not been accompanied by a 
 Revolution in the principles and practice of Governments. 
 She made a stand, not for herself only, but for the world, 
 and looked beyond the advantages herself could receive. 
 Even the Hessian, though hired to fight against her, may 
 live to bless his defeat ; and i-itfgland, condemning the vici- 
 onsaess of its Government, rejoice in its miscarriage.
 
 14 RIGHTS OF MAN. Pa*T II. 
 
 As America was the only spot in the political world, 
 where the principles of universal reformation could begin, 
 80 also was it the best in the natural world. Au assemblage 
 of circumstances conspired, not only to give birth, but to 
 add gigantic maturity to its principles. The scene which 
 that country presents to the eye of a spectator, has some- 
 thing in it which generates and encourages great ideas. 
 Nature appears to him in magnitude. The mighty, objects 
 he beholds, act upon his mind by enlarging it, and he 
 partakes of the greatness he contemplates. — Its first settler* 
 were emigrants from different European Nations, and of 
 diversified professions of religion, retiring from the Govern- 
 mental persecutions of the old world, and meeting in the 
 new, not as enemies, but as brothers. The wants which 
 necessarily accompany the cultivation of a wilderness, pro- 
 duced among them a state of society, which countries, long 
 harassed by the quarrels and intrigues of Governments, had 
 neglected to cherish. In such a situation Man becomes 
 what he ought. He sees his species, not with the inhuman 
 idea of a natural enemy, but as kindred ; and the example 
 shews to the artificial world, that Man must go back to 
 Nature for information. 
 
 From the rapid progress which America mnkes in every 
 species of improvement, it is rational to conclude, that if 
 the Governments of Asia, Africa, and Europe, had begun 
 on a principle similar to that of America, or had not been 
 very early corrupted therefrom, those countries must, by 
 this time, have been in a far superior condition to what 
 they are. Age after age has passed away, for no other 
 purpose than to behold their wretchedness. — Could we 
 suppose a spectator who knew nothing of the world, and 
 who was put into it merely to make his observations, he 
 ■would take a great part of the old world to be new^ just 
 struggling with the difficulties and hardships of an infant 
 settlement. He could not suppose that the hordes of 
 miserable poor, with which old countries abound, could be 
 any other than those who had not yet had time to provide 
 for themselves. Little would he think they were the con- 
 sequence of what in such countries is called Government. 
 
 If, from the more wretched parts of the old world, we 
 look at those which are in an advanced stage of improve- 
 ment, we still find the greedy hand of Government thrust- 
 ing itself into every corner and crevice of industry, and 
 grasping the spoil of the multitude. Invention is continually 
 exercised, to furnish new pretences for revenue and tax-
 
 / 
 
 IfiTRO. RIGHTS OF MAX. £> 
 
 ation. It watches prosperity as its prey, and permits none 
 to escape without a tribute. 
 
 As revolutions have begun, (and as the probability ;s 
 always greater against a thiug beginning, than of proceed u.,; 
 after it has begun,) it is natural to expect that other revolu- 
 tions will follow. The amazing and still increasing ex- 
 pences with which old Governments; are conducted, the 
 numerous wars they engage in, or provoke, the embarrass- 
 ments they throw in the way of universal civilization and 
 commerce, and the oppression and usurpation they practise 
 at home, have wearied out the patience, and exhausted the 
 property of the world. In such a situation, and with the 
 examples already existing, revolutions are to be looked for. 
 They are become subjects of universal conversation, and 
 may be considered as the Order of the Day. 
 
 If systems of Government can be introduced, less exp< n- 
 sive, and more productive of general happiness, than those 
 which have existed, all attempts to oppose their progress 
 will, in the end, be fruitless. Reason, like time, will make 
 its own way, and prejudice will fall in a combat with in- 
 terest. If universal peace, civilization, and commerce, are 
 ever to be the happy lot of man, it cannot be accomplished 
 but by a Revolution in the system of Governments. All 
 the monarchical Governments are military. War is their 
 trade; plunder and revenue their objects. While such 
 Governments continue, peace has not the absolute security 
 of a day. What is the history of ail monarchical Govern- 
 ments, but a disgustful picture of human wretchedness, and 
 the accidental respite of a few years* repose ? Weaned with 
 war, and tired with human butchery, ihey sat down to rest, 
 and called it peace. This certainly is not the condition 
 that Heaven intended for Man; and if this he monarchy, 
 well might monarchy be reckoned among the sins of the 
 Jews. 
 
 The revolutions which formerly took place in the world, 
 bad nothing in them that interested the bulk of mankind. 
 They extended only to a change of persons and measures, 
 but not of principles, and rose or fell among the common 
 transactions of the moment. What we now behold, may 
 not improperly be called a " counter revolution." Conquest 
 and tyranny, at some early period, dispossessed Man of his 
 Rights, and he is now recovering them. And as the tide of 
 all human affairs has its ebb and How in directions contrary 
 to each other, so also is it in this. Government founded on 
 z moral theory, on a system of universal peace, on the ittdc-
 
 16 
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 Par* II 
 
 feasible hereditary Rights of Man, is now revolving from west 
 to east, by a stronger impulse than the Government of the 
 6W0rd revolved from east to west. It interests not particular 
 individuals, but Nations, in its progress, and promises a 
 new era to the human race. 
 
 The danger to which the success of revolutions is most 
 exposed, is that of attempting them before the principles on 
 which they proceed, and the advantages to result from 
 them, are sufficiently seen and understood. Almost every 
 thing appertaining to the circumstances of a Nation, has 
 "been absorbed and confounded under the general and 
 mysterious word Government. Though it avoids taking 
 to its account, the errors it commits, and the mischiefs it 
 occasions, it fails not so arrogate to itself whatever has the 
 appearance of prosperity. It robs industry of its honours, 
 by pedanticly making itself the cause of its effects ; and 
 purloins from the general character of j\[an, the merits that 
 appertain to him as a social being. 
 
 It may, therefore, be of use in this day of revolutions, to 
 discriminate between those things which are the effect of 
 Government, and those which are not. This will best be 
 done by taking a review of society and civilization, and the 
 consequences resulting therefrom, as things distinct from 
 ■what are called Governments. By beginning with this inves- 
 tigation, we shall be able to assign effects to their proper 
 cause, and analyze the mass of common errors. 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 n'* 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ ■
 
 Chap. I, ■ riohts op man. 17 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of Society and Civilization. 
 
 Great part of that order which reigns among mankind, 
 is not the effect of Government. It has its origin in the 
 principles of society and the natural Constitution of Man. 
 It existed prior to Government, and would exist if the for- 
 mality of Government were abolished. The mutual depen- 
 dence and reciprocal interest which Man has upon Man, 
 and all the parts of a civilized community upon each other, 
 create that great chain of connection which holds it to-, 
 gether. The landlord, the farmer, the manufacturer, the 
 merchant, the tradesman, and every occupation, prospers, 
 by the aid which each receives from the other, and from the 
 whole. Common interest regulates their concerns, andL 
 forms their law ; and the laws which common usage ordains, 
 have a greater influence than the laws of Government. In, 
 fine, society performs for itself almost every thing which is 
 ascribed to Government. 
 
 To understand the nature a/id quantity of Government 
 proper for Man, it is necessary to attend to his character. 
 As Nature created him for social life, she fitted him for the 
 station she intended. In all cases, she made his natural 
 wants greater than his individual powers. No one man is; 
 capable, without the aid of society, of supplying his own 
 wants ; and those wants, acting upon every individual, im- 
 pel the whole of them into society, as naturally as gravitation 
 acts to a centre. 
 
 But she has gone farther. She has not only forced Mare 
 into society, by a diversity of wants, which the reciprocal aid 
 of each other can supply, but she has implanted i.» him a 
 system of social affections, which though not necessary to 
 his existence, are essential to his happiness. There is no> 
 period in life when this love for society ceases to act. It 
 begins and ends with our being. 
 
 If we examine, with attention, into the composition and 
 constitution of Man, the diversity of his wants, and the di- 
 versity of talents in different men for reciprocally accommo-
 
 18 bights OP man. Part II. 
 
 dating Hie wants of each other, his propensity to society, 
 and, consequently, to preserve the advantages resulting from 
 it, we shall easily discover, that a great part of what is 
 callfd Government is mere imposition. 
 
 Government is no farther necessary than to supply the 
 few cases to which society and civilization are not conve- 
 niently competent; and instances are not wanting to shew, 
 that every thing which Government can usefully add thereto, 
 has been performed by the common consent of society, 
 without Government. 
 
 For upwards of two years, from the commencement of 
 the American war, and to a longer period in several of the 
 American States, there were no established forms of Govern- 
 ment. The old Governments had been abolished, and the 
 country was too much occupied in defence, to employ its 
 attention in establishing new Governments ; yet during this 
 interval, order and harmony were preserved as inviolate as in 
 any country in Europe. There is a natural aptness in Man, 
 and more so in society, because it embraces a greater variety 
 of abilities and resource, to accommodate itself to whatever 
 situation it is in. The instant formal Government is abo- 
 lished, society begins to act. A general association takes 
 place, and common interest produces common security. 
 
 So far is it from being true, as has been pretended, that 
 the abolitiou of any formal Government is the dissolution of 
 society, that it acts by a contrary impulse, and brings the 
 latter the closer together. All that part of its organization 
 which it had committed to its Government, devolves again 
 upon itself, and acts through its medium. When men, as 
 well from natural instinct, as from reciprocal benefits, have 
 habituated themselves to social and civilized life, there is 
 always enough of its principles in practice to carry them 
 through any changes they may find necessary or conveuient 
 to make in their Government. In short, Man is so naturally 
 a creature of society, that it is almost impossible to put him 
 out of it. 
 
 Formal Government makes but a small part of civilized 
 life ; and when even the best that human wisdom can devise 
 is established, it is a thing more in name and idea, than iu 
 fact. It is to the great and fundamental principles of society 
 and civilization — to the common usage universally con- 
 sented to, and mutually and reciprocally maintained — to the 
 V unceasing circulation of interest, which, passing through its 
 million channels, invigorates the whole mass of civilized 
 JMan — it is to these things, infinitely more than to any thing
 
 Chap. I. RIOHTi of mam. 19 
 
 which even the best instituted Government can perform, 
 that the safety and prosperity of the individual and of the 
 whole depends. 
 
 The more perfect civilization is, the less occasion has it 
 for Government, because the more does it regulate its own 
 affairs, and govern itself; but so contrary is the practice of 
 old Governments to the reason of the case, that theexpences 
 of them increase in the proportion they ought to diminish. 
 It is but few general laws that civilized life requires, and 
 those of such common usefulness, that whether they are 
 enforced by the forms of Government or not, the effect will 
 be nearly the same. If we consider what the principles are 
 that first condense men into society, and what the motives 
 that regulate their mutual intercourse afterwards, we shall 
 find, by the time we arrive at what is called Government, 
 that nearly the whole of the business is performed by the 
 natural operation of the parts upon each other. 
 
 Man, with respect to all those matters, is more a creature 
 of consistency than he is aware, or that Governments would 
 wish him to believe. All the great laws of society are laws 
 of nature. Those of trade and commerce, whether with re- 
 spect to the intercourse of individuals, or of Nations, are 
 laws of mutual and reciprocal interest. They are followed 
 and obeyed, because it is the interest of the parties so to do, 
 and not on account of any formal laws their Governments 
 may impose or interpose. 
 
 But how often is the natural propensity to society dis- 
 turbed or destroyed by the operations of Government. When. 
 the latter, instead of being engrafted on the principles of the 
 former, assumes to exist for itself, and acts by partialities; 
 of favour and oppression it becomes the cause of the mis- 
 chiefs it ought to prevent. 
 
 If we look back to the riots and tumults, which at various 
 times have happened in England, we shall find, that they 
 did not proceed from the want of a Government, but that 
 Government was itself the generating cause; instead of 
 consolidating society it divided it; it deprived it of its na« 
 tural cohesion, and engendered discontents and disorders, 
 which otherwise would not have existed. In those associ- 
 ations which men promiscuously form for the purpose of 
 trade, or of any concern, in which Government is totally 
 out of the question, and in which they act merely on the 
 principles of society, we see how naturally the various par- 
 ties unite ; and this shews, by comparison, that Govern- 
 ments, so far from being always the cause or means of or-
 
 20 RIGHTS Of MAJT. PaRT II, 
 
 'der, are often the destruction of it. The riots of l 780 had 
 no other source than the remains of those prejudices, which 
 the Government itself had encouraged. But with respect 
 to England there are also other causes. 
 
 Excess and inequality of taxation, however disguised in 
 the means, never tail to appear in their effects. Asa great 
 mass of the community are thrown thereby into poverty 
 and discontent, they are constantly on the brink of commo- 
 tion ; and deprived, as they unfortunately are, of the means 
 of information, are easily heated to outrage. Whatever the 
 apparent cause of any riots may be, the real one is always 
 want of happiness. It shews, that something is wrong in 
 the system of Government, that injures the felicity by which 
 society is to be preserved. 
 
 But as fact is superior to reasoning, the instance of Ame- 
 rica presents itself to confirm these observations. — If there 
 be a country in the world, where concord, according to Com- 
 mon calculation, would be least expected, it is America. 
 Made up, as it is, of people from different Nations*, accus- 
 tomed to different forms and habits of Government, speaking 
 different languages, and more different in their modes of 
 worship, it would appear that the union of such a people 
 was impracticable ; but by the simple operation of con- 
 structing Government on the principles of society and the 
 "Rights of Man, every difficulty retires, and all the parts 
 are brought into cordial unison. There the poor are not 
 oppressed, the rich are not privileged. Industry is not 
 mortified by the splendid extravagance of a court rioting 
 at its expence. Their taxes are few, because their Go- 
 vernment is just; and. as there is nothing to render them 
 wretched, there is nothing to engender riots and tumults. 
 
 * That part "of America which is generally called New-England, 
 including New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode-Island, and Con* 
 necticiit, is peopled chiefly bv English descendants. In the State 
 . of New York, about half are Dutch, the rest English, Scotch, and 
 Irish. In New Jersey, a mixture of English and Dutch, with some 
 Scotch and Irish. In Pennsylvania, about one third are English, 
 another Germans, and the remainder Scotch and Irish, with some 
 Swedes* The States to the Southward have a greater proportion 
 of English than the middle States, but in all of them there is a 
 mixture ; and besides those enumerated, there are a considerable 
 number of French, and some few of all the European Nations lying 
 on the coast. The most numerous religious denomination are the 
 Presbyterians ; but no one sect is established above another, and 
 all men are equally citizens.
 
 tun*. I. nrcnTs o* u&v. *i 
 
 A metaphysical man, like Mr. Burke, would have tor- 
 tured his invention to discover how such a people could be 
 governed. He would have supposed that some must be 
 manageo* by fraud, others by force, and all by some contri- 
 vance; that genius must be hired to impose upon ignorance, 
 and shew and parade, to fascinate the vulgar. Lost in the 
 abundance of his researches, he would have resolved and 
 re-resolved, and finally overlooked the plain and easy road 
 that lay directly before him. 
 
 One of the great advantages of the American Revolution 
 has been, that it led to a discovery of the principles, and 
 laid open the imposition, of Governments. All the revo- 
 lutions till then had been worked within the atmosphere of 
 a Court, and never ou the great floor of a Nation. The 
 parties were always of the class of Courtier* ; and whatever 
 was their rage for reformation, they carefully preserved the 
 fraud of the profession. 
 
 In all cases they took care to represent Government as a 
 thing made up of mysteries, which only themselves under- 
 stood ; and they hid from the understanding of the Nation, 
 the only thing that was beneficial to know, namely, That 
 Government is nothing more than a National association acting 
 upon (he principles of society. 
 
 Having thus endeavoured to shew, that the social and 
 civilized state of man is capable of performing within itself, 
 almost every thing necessary to its protection and Govern- 
 ment, it will be proper, on the other hand, to take a review 
 of the present old Governments, and examine whether their 
 principles and practice are correspondent thereto.
 
 ** MIGHTS OF MAS. PART JI. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the Origin of the Present Old Governments. 
 
 It is impossible that such Governments as have hitherto 
 existed in the world, could have commenced by any other 
 means than a total violation of every principle, sacred and 
 moral. The obscurity in which the origin of all the present 
 old Governments is buried, implies the iniquity aud disgrace 
 with which they began. The origin of the present Govern- 
 ment of America and France will ever be remembered, be- 
 cause it is honourable to record it; but with respect to the 
 rest, even flattery has consigned them to the tomb of time, 
 without an inscription. It could have been no difficult 
 thing in the early and solitary ages of the world, while the 
 chief employment of men was that of attending flocks and 
 herds, for a banditti of ruffians to overrun a country, and 
 lay it under contributions. Their power being thus estab- 
 lished, the chief of the band contrived to lose the name of 
 Robber in that of Monarch ; and hence the origin of Mo- 
 narchy and Kings. 
 
 The origin of the Government of England, so far as 
 Telates to what is called its line of monarchy being one of 
 the latest, is, perhaps, the best recorded. The hatred 
 which the Norman invasion and tyranny begat, must have 
 been deeply rooted in the Nation, to have outlived the con- 
 trivance to obliterate it. Though not a Courtier will talk 
 of the Curfew-bcll, not a village in England has forgotten it. 
 Those bands of robbers having parcelled out the world, 
 and divided it into dominions, began, as is naturally the 
 case, to quarrel with each other. What at first was obtained 
 by violence, was considered by others as lawful to be taken, 
 and a second plunderer succeeded the first. They alter- 
 nately invaded the dominions which each had assigned to 
 himself, and the brutality with which they treated each 
 other explains the original character of monarchy. It was 
 ruffian torturing ruffian. The conqueror considered the 
 conquered, not as his prisoner, but his property. He led 
 him in triumph rattling in chains, and doomed him at plea- 
 sure, to slavery or death, As time obliterated the history
 
 Chap. II. rights of man. 43 
 
 of their beginning, their successors assumed new appear- 
 ances to cut oir the entail of their disgrace, but their prin- 
 ciples and objects remained the same. What, at first, was 
 plunder, assumed the softer name of revenue; and the 
 power originally usurped, they affected to inherit. 
 
 From such beginning of Governments, what could be ex- 
 pected, but a continental system of war and extortion ? It 
 has established itself into a trade. The vice is not peculiar 
 to one more than to another, but is the common principle of 
 all. There doe9 not exist within such Governments suffi- 
 cient stamina whereon to engraft reformation; aiul the 
 shortest, easiest, and most effectual remedy, is to begin 
 anew on the ground of the oration. 
 
 What scenes of horror, what perfection of iniquity, pre* 
 sent themselves in contemplating the character, and review- 
 ing the history of such Governments'. If we would deli- 
 neate human nature with a baseness of heart, and hypocrisy 
 of countenance, that reflection would shudder at, and huma- 
 nity disown, it is Kings, Courts, and Cabinets, that must sit 
 for the portrait. Man, naturally as he is, with all his faults 
 about him, is not up to the character. 
 
 Can we possibly suppose that if Governments had origi- 
 nated in a right principle, and had not an interest in pur- 
 suing a wrong one, that the world could have been in the 
 wretched and quarrelsome condition we have seen it ? What 
 inducement has the farmer, while following the plough, to 
 Jay aside his peaceful pursuit, and go to war with the farmer 
 of another country ? or what inducement has the manufac- 
 turer ? What is dominion to them, or to any class of men in a 
 Nation ? Does it add an acre to any man's estate, or raise 
 its value ? Are not conquest and defeat each of the same 
 price, and taxes the never-failing consequence? — Though, 
 this reasoning may be good to a Nation, it is not to to a 
 Government. War is the Pharo table of Governments, and 
 Nations the dupes of the games. 
 
 If there is any thing to wonder at in this miserable scene 
 of Governments, more than might be expected, it is the 
 progress which the peaceful arts of agriculture, manufac- 
 ture and commerce have made, beneath such a long accu- 
 mulating load of discouragement and oppression. It serves 
 to shew, that instinct in animals does not act with stronger 
 impulse, than the principles of society and civilization ope- 
 rate in man. Under all discouragements, he pursues his 
 object, and yields to nothing but impossibilities.
 
 *4 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the Old and New Systems of Government, 
 
 Nothing can appear more contradictory than the prin- 
 ciples on which the old Governments began, and the condi- 
 tion to which society, civilization, and commerce, are capa- 
 ble of carrying mankind. Government on the old system, is 
 an assumption of power, for the aggrandizement of itself; 
 on the new, a delegation of power, for the common benefit 
 of society. The former supports itself by keeping up a sys- 
 tem of war ; the latter promotes a system of peace, as the 
 true means of enriching a Nation. The one encourages 
 National prejudices ; the other promotes universal society, 
 as the means of universal commerce. The one measures its 
 prosperity, by the quantity of revenue it extorts ; the other 
 proves its excellence, by the small quantity of taxes it re- 
 quires. 
 
 Mr. Burke has talked of old and new whigs. If he can 
 amuse himself with childish names and distinctions, I shall 
 not interrupt his pleasure. It is not to him, but to the Abbe 
 Sieyes, that I address this chapter. I am already engaged 
 to the latter gentleman, to discuss the subject of Monar- 
 chical Government ; and as it naturally occurs in comparing 
 theoldaudnew systems, I make this the opportunity of 
 presenting to him my observations. I shall occasionally 
 take Mr. Burke in my way. 
 
 Though it might !>e proved that the system ofGovern- 
 ment now called the new, is the most ancient in principle 
 ©fall that have existed, being fouuded on the original inhe- 
 rent Rights of Man : yet, a6 tyranny and the sword have 
 suspended the exercise of those rights for many centuries 
 past, it serves better the purpose of distinction to call it the 
 new, than to claim the right of calling it the old. 
 
 The first general* distinction between those two systems, 
 is, that the one now called the old is hereditary, either in 
 whole or in part ; and the new is entirely repretentativc. It 
 rejects all hereditary Government: 
 
 First, as being an imposition on mankind,
 
 CUAP. III. M0HT8 OF MAN. 25 
 
 Secondly, As inadequate to the purposes for which Go- 
 vernment is necessary. 
 
 With respect to the first of these heads — It cannot be 
 proved by what right hereditary Government could begin : 
 neither does there exist within the compass of mortal power 
 a right to establish it. Man has no authority over posterity 
 in matters of personal right; and therefore, no man, or body 
 of men, had, or can have, a right to set up hereditary Go- 
 vernment, Were even ourselves to come again into exis- 
 tence, instead of being succeeded by posterity, we have not 
 now the right of taking from ourselves the rights which 
 would then be ours. On what ground, then, do we pretend 
 to take them from others ? 
 
 With respect to the second head, that of being inadequate 
 to the purposes for which Government is necessary, we have 
 only to consider what Government essentially is, and com- 
 pare it with the circumstances to which hereditary succes- 
 sion is subject. 
 
 Government ought to be a thing always in full maturity. 
 It ought to be so constructed as to be superior to all the ac- 
 cidents to which individual man is subject; and therefore, 
 hereditary succession, by being subject to them all, is the 
 most irregular and imperfect of all the systems of Govern- 
 ments. 
 
 We hare heard the Rights of Man called a levelling sys- 
 tem ; but the only system to which the word levelling is 
 truly applicable, is the hereditary monarchical system. It is 
 a system of mental levelling. It indiscriminately admits 
 every species of character to the same authority. Vice and 
 virtue, ignorance and wisdom, in short, every quality, good 
 or bad, is put on the same level. Kings succeed each other, 
 notas rationals, but as animals. It signifies not what their 
 mental or moral characters are. Can we then be surprised 
 at the abject state of the human mind in monarchical coun- 
 tries, when the Government itself is formed on such an ab- 
 ject levelling system ? — It has no fixed character. To-day 
 it is one thing; to-morrow it is something else. It changes 
 with the temper of every succeeding individual, and is sub- 
 ject to all the varieties of each. It is Government through 
 the medium of passions and accidents. It appears under all 
 the various characters of childhood, decrepitude, dotage, a 
 thing at nurse, in leading-strings, or in crutches. It reverses 
 the wholesome order of nature. It occasionally puts chil- 
 dren over men, and the conceits of non-age over wisdom 
 and experience. In short, we cannot ccuceive a more ridi-
 
 26* RIGHTS OF MAN. 1'aBT'U. 
 
 culous figure of Government, than hereditary succession, in 
 all its cases, presents. 
 
 Could it be made a decree in nature, or an edict registered 
 in Heaven, and man could know it, that virtue and wisdom 
 should invariably appertain to hereditary succession, the ob- 
 jections to it would be removed; but when we see that 
 Nature acts as if she disowned and sported with the here- 
 ditary system ; that the mental characters of successors, in 
 all countries, are below the average of human understand- 
 ing ; that one is a tyrant, another an ideot, a third insane, 
 and some all three together, it is impossible to attach con- 
 fidence to it, when reason in man has power to act. 
 
 It is not to the Abbe Sieyes that I need apply this rea- 
 soning; he has already saved me that trouble, by giving 
 his own opinion upon the case. " If it be asked," says be, 
 •" what is my opinion with respect to hereditary right, I 
 answer, without hesitation, That, in good theory, an here- 
 ditary transmission of any power or office, can never nccord 
 with the laws of a true representation. Hereditaryship is, 
 in this sense, as much an attaint upon principle, as an 
 outrage upon society. But let us," continues he, " refer to 
 the history of all elective monarchies and principalities: Is 
 there one in which the elective mode is not worse than the 
 hereditary succession ?" 
 
 As to debating on which is the worst of the two, is ad- 
 mitting both to be bad ; and herein we are agreed. The 
 preference which the Abbe has given, is a condemnation of 
 the thing he prefers. Such a mode of reasoning on such a 
 subject is inadmissible, because it finally amounts to aa 
 accusation upon Providence, as if she had left to man no 
 other choice with respect to Government than between two 
 evils, the best of which he admits to be " an attaint upon 
 principle, find an outrage upon society" 
 
 Passing over, for the present, all the evils and mischiefs 
 which monarchy has occasioned in the world, nothing can 
 more effectually prove its uselessness in a state of civil Go- 
 vernment, than making it hereditary. Would we make any 
 office hereditary that required wisdom and abilities to fill 
 it? and where wisdom and abilities are not necessary, such 
 an office, whatever it may be, is superfluous or insignificant. 
 
 Hereditary succession is a burlesque upon monarchy. It 
 puts it in the most ridiculous light, by presenting it as an 
 office, which any child or ideot may fill. It requires some 
 talents to be a common mechanic; but to be a King* re- 
 quires only the animal figure of a man — a sort of breathing
 
 Chap. III. rights ot mah. 27 
 
 automaton. This sort of superstition may last a few years 
 more, but it cannot long resist the awakened reason and 
 interest of Man. 
 
 As to Mr. Burke, he is a stickler for monarchy, not alto- 
 gether as a pensioner, if he is one, which I believe, but as a 
 political man. 
 
 He has taken up a contemptible opinion of mankind, who, 
 in their turn, are taking up the same of him. He considers 
 them as a herd of beings that must be governed by fraud, 
 effigy, and shew ; and an idol would be as good a figure of 
 monarchy with him, as a man. I will, however, do him the 
 justice to say, that, with respect to America, he has been 
 very complimentary. He always contended, at least in my 
 hearing, that the people of America were more enlightened 
 than those of England, or any of any country in Europe; 
 and that therefore the imposition of shew was not necessary 
 in their Governments. 
 
 Though the comparison between hereditary and elective 
 monarchy, which the Abbe has made, is unnecessary to the 
 case, because the representative system rejects both ; yet, 
 were I to make the comparison, I should decide contrary to 
 what he has done. 
 
 The civil wars which have originated from contested 
 hereditary claims, are more numerous, and have been more 
 dreadful, and of longer continuance, than those which have 
 been occasioned by election. All the civil wars in France 
 arose from the hereditary system ; they were either pro- 
 duced by hereditary claims, or by the imperfection of the 
 hereditary form, which admits of regencies, or monarchies 
 at nurse. With respect to England, its history is full of 
 the same misfortunes. The contests for succession between 
 the houses of York and Lancaster, lasted a whole century ; 
 and others of a similar nature, have renewed themselves since 
 that period. Those of 1715 and 1745, were of the same 
 kind. The succession war for the Crown of Spain, em- 
 broiled almost half Europe. The disturbances in Holland 
 are generated from the hereditaryship of the Stadtholder. 
 A Government calling itself free, with an hereditary office, 
 is like a thorn in the flesh, that produces a fermentation 
 which endeavours to discharge it. 
 
 But I might go further, and place also foreign wars, of 
 whatever kind, to the same cause. It is by adding the evil 
 of hereditary succession to that of monarchy, that a perma- 
 nent family interest is created, whose constant objects are 
 dominion and revenue. Poland, though an elective mo-
 
 2* RIGHTS OE MAN.. PART. II. 
 
 parchy, has had fewer wars than those which are hereditary ; 
 and it is the only Government that has made a voluntary 
 essay, though but a small one, to reform the condition of the 
 country. 
 
 Having thus glanced at a few of the defects of the old, or 
 hereditary systems of Government, let us compare it with 
 the new or representative system. 
 
 The representative system takes society and civilization 
 for its basis ; nature, reason, and experience for its guide. 
 
 Experience, in all ages, and in all countries, has demon- 
 strated, that it is impossible to controul Nature in her dis- 
 tribution of mental powers. She gives them as she pleases. 
 Whatever is the rule by which she, apparently to us, scat- 
 ters them among mankind, that rule remains a secret to 
 Man. It would be as ridiculous to attempt to fix the here- 
 ditaryship of human beauty, as of wisdom. Whatever wis- 
 dom constituently is, it is like a seedless plant ; it may be 
 reared when it appears, but it cannot be voluntarily pro- 
 duced. There is always a sufficiency somewhere in the 
 general mass of society for all purposes; but with respect tp 
 the parts of society it is continually changing its place. It 
 rises in one to-day, in another to-morrow, and has most 
 probably visited in rotation every family of the earth, and 
 again withdrawn. 
 
 As this is the order of nature, the order of Government 
 must necessarily follow it, or Government will, as we see it 
 does, degenerate into ignorance. The hereditary system, 
 therefore, is as repugnant to human wisdom, as to human 
 rights; and is as absurd, as it is unjust. 
 
 As the republic of letters brings forward the best literary 
 productions, by giving to genius a fair and universal chance ; 
 »o the representative system of Government is calculated to 
 produce the wisest laws, by collecting wisdom from where 
 it can be found. I smile to myself when I contemplate the 
 ridiculous insignificance into which literature and all the 
 sciences would sink, were they made hereditary; and I 
 carry the same idea into Governments. An hereditary 
 governor is as inconsistent as an hereditary author. I know 
 not whether Homer or Euclid had sons ; but 1 will venture 
 an opinion, that if they had, and bad left their works unfi- 
 nished, those sons could not have completed them. 
 
 Do we need a stronger evidence of the absurdity of here- 
 ditary Government, than is seen in the descendants of those 
 men, in any line of life, who once were famous? Is there 
 scarcely an instance in which there is not a total reverse of
 
 Chap. III. rights of man. 30 
 
 the character? It appears as if the tide of mental faculties 
 flowed as far as it could in certain channels, and then for- 
 sook its course, and arose in others. How irrational then is 
 the hereditary system wtjich establishes channels of power, 
 in company with which wisdom refuses to flow! By conti- 
 nuing this absurdity, Man is perpetually in contradiction 
 with himself; he accepts, for a King, or a Chief Magistrate, 
 or a Legislator, a person whom he would not elect for a Con- 
 stable. 
 
 It appears to general observation, that revolutions create 
 genius and talents; but those events do no more than bring 
 them forward. There is existing in Man, a mass of sense 
 lyinftin a dormant state, and which, unless something ex- 
 cites it to action, will descend with him, in that condition, 
 to the grave. As it is to the advantage of society that the 
 whole of its faculties should be employed, the construction 
 of Government ought to be such as to bring forward, by a 
 quiet and regular operation, all thatextent of capacity which 
 never fails to appear in revolutions. 
 
 This cannot take place in the insipid state of hereditary 
 Government, not only hecause it prevents, but because it 
 operates to benumb. When the mind of a Nation is bowed 
 down by any political superstition in its Government, such, 
 as hereditary succession is, it loses a considerable portion of 
 its powers on all other subjects and objects. Hereditary suc- 
 cession requires the same obedience to ignorance, as to wis- 
 dom ; and when once the mind can bring itself to pay this 
 indiscriminate reverence, it descends below the stature of 
 mental manhood. It is fit to be great only In little things. 
 It acts a treachery upon itself, and suffocates the sensations 
 that urge the detection. 
 
 Though the aocient Governments present to us a mise- 
 rable picture of the condition of Man, there is one which 
 above all others exempts itself from the general description. 
 I mean the Democracy of the Athenians. We see more to 
 admire, and less to condemn, in that great, extraordinary 
 people, than in any thing which history affords. 
 
 Mr. Burke is so little acquainted with constituent princi- 
 ples of Government, that he confounds Democracy and Repre- 
 sentation together. Representation was a thing unknown in 
 the ancient Democracies. In those the ma<s of the People 
 met and enacted laws (grammatically speaking) in the first 
 person. Simple Democracy was no other than the common- 
 hall of the acients. It signifies the form, as well as the pub- 
 lic principle of the Government. As these Democracies
 
 30 RrGHTS OF MAN. Part II 
 
 increased in population, and the territory extended, the sim- 
 ple democratical form became unwieldy and impracticable; 
 and as the system of representation was not known, the con- 
 sequence was, they either degenerated convulsively info 
 Monarchies, or became absorbed into such as then existed. 
 Had the system of Representation been then understood, as 
 it now is, there is no reason to believe that those forms of 
 Government, now called Monarchical and Aristoc'ratical, 
 would ever have taken place. It was the want of some 
 method to consolidate the parts of society, after it became* 
 too populous, and too extensive for the simple Democratical 
 form, and also the lax and solitary condition of shepherds 
 and herdsmen in other parts of the world, that afforded op- 
 portunities to those unnatural modes of Government to 
 begin. 
 
 As it is necessary to clear away the rubbish of errors, into 
 which the subject of Government has been thrown, I shall 
 proceed to remark on some others. 
 
 It has always been the political craft of Courtiers and 
 Court-Governments, to abuse something which they called 
 Republicanism ; but what Republicanism was, or is, they 
 never attempt to explain. Let us examine a little into this 
 case.. 
 
 The only forms of Government are, the Democratical, 
 the Aristocratical, the Monarchical, and what is now called 
 the Representative. 
 
 What is called a republic, is not any particular form of 
 Government. It is wholly characteristical of the purport, 
 matter, or object for which Government ought lobe insti- 
 tuted, and on which it is to be employed, ues-pi/blica, the 
 public affairs, or the public good; or, literally translated, 
 the public thing. It is a word of a good original, referring 
 to what ought to be the character and business of Govern- 
 ment; and in this sense it is naturally opposed to the word 
 'Monarchy, which has a base original signification. It. mean* 
 'arbitrary power in au individual person ; in the exercise of 
 which, himself, and not the res-pub/ica, is the object. 
 
 Every Government that does not act on the principle of a 
 Republic, or in other words, that does not make the res- 
 jubtica its whole and sole object, is not a good Government. 
 Republican Government is no other than Government esta- 
 blished and conducted for the interest of the public, as well 
 individually as collectively. It is not necessarily connected 
 with any particular form, but it most naturally associates 
 •tvith the representative form, as being best calculated to se-
 
 Chap. III. hights of man. 31 
 
 cure the end for which a Nation is at the expence of sup- 
 porting it. 
 
 Various forms of Government have affected to style them- 
 selves a republic. Poland calls itself a republic, which is 
 an hereditary aristocracy, with what is called an elective 
 monarchy. Holland calls itself a republic, which is chiefly 
 aristocratical, with an hereditary Stadthoklership. But the 
 Government of America, which is wholly on the system of 
 representation, is the only real Republic in character and in 
 practice, that now exists. Its Government has no other ob- 
 ject than the public business of the Nation, and therefore it 
 is properly a republic; and the Americans have taken care 
 that this, and noother, shall always be the object of their 
 Government, by their rejecting every thing hereditary, and 
 establishing Government on the system of representation 
 only. 
 
 Those who have said that a republic is not nforni o£ 
 Government calculated for countries of great extent, mis- 
 took, in the first place; the business of a Government, for a 
 form of Government; for the res-publica equally appertain* 
 to every extent of territory and population. And, in the 
 second place, if they meant any thing with respect to form, 
 it was the simple Democratical form, such was the mode of 
 Government in the ancient Democracies, in which there was 
 no representation. The case, therefore, is not, that a repub- 
 lic cannot be extensive, but that it cannot be extensiv.e on 
 the simple Democratical form ; and the question naturally 
 presents itself, lihnt is the best form of Government for con- 
 ducting the ues-publica, or the public business of a 
 Nut ion, after it becomes too extensive and populous for the sim- 
 ple democratical form? 
 
 It cannot be Monarchy, because Monarchy is subject, to an 
 objection of the same amount to which the simple Demo- 
 cratical form was subject. 
 
 It is probable that an individual may lay down a system 
 of principles, on which Government shall be constitutionally 
 established to any extent of territory. This is no more thau 
 an operation of the mind, acting by its own powers. But 
 the practice upon those principles, as applying to the va- 
 rious and numerous circumstances of a Nation, its agricul- 
 ture, manufacture, trade, commerce, &c. &c. requires a 
 knowledge of a different kind, and which can be had only 
 from the various parts of society. It is an assemblage of 
 practical knowledge, which no one individual can possess; 
 and therefore the Monarchical form i« as much limited, in
 
 Jj$ RIGHTS OF MAN. . PART. II. 
 
 useful practice, from the incompetency of knowledge, as was 
 the Democratical form, from the multiplicity of population. 
 The one degenerates, by extension, into confusion ; the 
 other, into ignorance and incapacity, of which all the great 
 Monarchies are an evidence. The Monarchical form, tuere- 
 fore.could not be a substitute for the Democratical, because 
 it has equal inconveniencies. 
 
 Much less could it when made hereditary. This is the 
 most effectual of all forms to preclucTe knowledge. Neither 
 could the high Democratical mind have voluntarily yielded 
 itself to be governed by children and ideots, and all the 
 motley insignificance of character, which attends such a 
 mere animal system, the disgrace and the reproach of Reason , 
 and of Man. . 
 
 As to the Aristocratical form, it has the same vices and 
 defects with the Monarchical, except .that the chance of 
 abilities is better from the proportion of numbers, but there 
 is still no security for the right use and application of them*. 
 
 Referring, then, to the original simple Democracy, it 
 affords the true data from which Government on a large 
 scale can hegin. It is incapable of extension, not from its- 
 principle, but from the inconvenience of its form ; and Mo- 
 narchy arid Aristocracy, from their incapacity. Retaining, 
 then, Democracy as the ground, and rejecting the corrupt- 
 " systems of Monarchy and Aristocracy, the Representative 
 system naturally presents itself; remedying at once the 
 defects of the simple Democracy .as to form, and the inca- 
 pacity of the other two with respect to knowledge. , 
 
 Simple Democracy was society governing itself without 
 the aid of secondary means. By ingrafting Representation, 
 upon Democracy, we arrive at a system of Government ca- 
 pable of embracing and confederating all the various in- 
 terests and every extent of territory and population; and 
 that also with advantages as much superior to hereditary 
 Government, as the republic of letters is to hereditary lite- 
 rature. 
 
 It is on this system that the American Government is 
 founded. It is Representation ingrafted upon Democracy, 
 ft has fixed the form by a scale parallel in all case9 to the 
 extent of the principle. What Athens was in miniature. 
 
 * For a character of Aristocracy, the reader is referred to Right* 
 of Man, Part I. page 3$.
 
 CilAP. III. RIUHTS OF MAN. 35 
 
 Artier tea will be in magnitude. The one was the wonder of 
 the ancient World ; the otiier is becoming the admiration, 
 the model of the present. It is the easiest of a! i the forms 
 of GowrnmfU to be understood, and the most eligible in 
 practice ; and excludes at once the ignorance and insecurity 
 of 'the hereditary mode, and the iucouvenience of the simple 
 Democracy. 
 
 It is impossible to conceive a system of Government capa- 
 ble of actmg over such an extent of territory, and such a 
 -circle of interests, as is immediately produced by the opera- 
 tion of Representation. Fiance, great and populous as it is, 
 is but a spot in the capaciousness of the system. It adapts 
 -itself to all possible cases. It is preferable to simple Demo- 
 cracy even in smaH territories. Athens, by Representation, 
 would haveoutrivalled her own Democracy. 
 
 That which is called Government, or rather that which 
 we Ought to conceive Government to be, is no more than 
 som< j common centre, in which all the parts of society unite. 
 Tiiis cannot be accomplished by any method so conducive 
 to the various interests of the community, as by the Repre- 
 sentative system. It concentrates the knowledge necessarv 
 to the interest of the parts, and of the whole. It places 
 Government in a state of constant maturity. It is, as has 
 been already observed, never young, never old. It is subject 
 neither to nonage, nor dotage. It is never in the cradle, nor 
 on crutches. It admits not of a separation between know- 
 ledge and pevver, and is superior, as Government always 
 ougbt to be, to all the accidents of individual Man, and is 
 t toe re-fore superior to what is called Monarchy. 
 
 A Nation is not a body, the figure of whid) is to be re- 
 presented by the human body; but is like a body contained 
 within a circle, having a common centre, in which every 
 radius meets: and that centre is formed by Representation. 
 To connect. Representation with what is called Monarchy, is 
 eccentric Government. Representation is of itself the dele- 
 gated Monarchy of a Nation, ami cannot debase itself by 
 dividing it with another. • 
 
 Mi. Burke has two or three times, in his Parliamentary 
 speeches, and in his publications, made uee of a jingle of 
 words that convey no ideas. Speaking of Government, he 
 says, " It is better to have Monarchy for its basis, and Re- 
 publicanism for its corrective, than Republicanism for its 
 basis, and Monarchy for its corrective." — If he means that 
 it is better to correct folly with wisdom, than wisdurru wirl*
 
 34 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART 1 1. 
 
 folly, I will no otherwise contend with him, than that it 
 would be much better to reject the folly entirely. 
 
 But what is this thing which Mr. Burke calls Monarchy ? 
 Will he explain it ? All men can understand what Represen- 
 tation is; and that it must necessarily include a variety of 
 knowledge and talents. But, what security is there lor the 
 same qualities on the part of Monarchy ? or, when this Mo- 
 narchy is a child, where then is the wisdom ? What does 
 it know about Government? Who then is the Monarch, or 
 where is the Monarchy ? If it is to be performed by a Regency, 
 it proves it to be a farce. A Regency is a mock species of 
 Republic, and the whole of Monarchy deserves no better de- 
 scription. It is a thing as various as imagination can paint. 
 It has none of the stable character that Government ought 
 to possess. Every succession is a revolution, and every re- 
 gency a counter-revolution. The whole of it is a scene of 
 perpetual Court cabal and intrigue, of which Mr. Burke is 
 himself an instance. To render Monarchy consistent with 
 Government, the next in succession should not be born a 
 child, but a man at once, and that man a Solomon. It is 
 ridiculous that Nations are to wait, and Government be in- 
 terrupted, till boys grow to men. 
 
 Whether I have too little sense to see, or too much to be 
 imposed upon ; whether I have too much or too little pride, 
 Or of any thing else, I leave out of the question; but certain 
 it is, that what is called Monarchy, always appears to me a 
 6illy, contemptible thing. I compare it to something kept 
 behind a curtain, about which there is a great deal of bustle 
 and fuss, and a wonderful air of seeming solemnity; but 
 when by any accident, the curtain happens to be open, and 
 the company see what it is, they burst into laughter. 
 
 In the representative system of Government, nothing of 
 this can happen. Like the Nation itself, it possesses a per- 
 petual stamina, as well of body as of mind, and presents 
 itself on the open theatre of the world in a fair and manly 
 manner. Whatever are its excellences or its defects, they 
 are visible to all. It exists not by fraud andmystery; it 
 deals not in cant and sophistry; but inspires a language, 
 that, passing from heart to heart, is felt and understood. 
 
 We must shut our eyes against reason, we must basely 
 degrade our understanding, not to see the folly of what is 
 called Monarchy. Nature is orderly in all her works; but 
 this is a mode of Government that counteracts nature. It 
 turns the progress of the hurnan faculties upside down, Xt
 
 CHAP. III. RIGHTS OF MAN. So 
 
 subjects age to be governed by children, and wisdom by 
 folly. 
 
 On the contrary, the Representative system is always pa- 
 rallel with the order and immutable laws of nature, and 
 meets the reason of .Man in every part. For example; 
 
 In the American federal Government, more power is dele- 
 gated to the President of the United States, than to any 
 other individual member of Congress. He cannot, therefore, 
 be elected to this office under the age of thirty- five years. 
 By this time the judgment of Man becomes matured, and he 
 lias lived long enough to be acquainted with men and things, 
 and the country with him. — But on the Monarchical plan, 
 (exclusive of the numerous chances there are against every 
 JVlan born into the world, of drawing a prize in the lottery 
 of human faculties), the next in succession, whatever he 
 may be, is put at the head of a Ration, and of a Govern- 
 ment, at the age of eighteen years. Does this appear tike 
 an act of wisdom ? Is it consistent with the proper dignity 
 and the manly character of a Nation? Where is the pro- 
 priety of calling such a lad the father of the People ? — In all 
 other cases, a person is a minor until the age of twenty-one 
 years. Before this period, he is not trusted with the ma- 
 nagement of an acre of land, or with the heritable property 
 of a flock of sheep, or an herd of swine; but, wonderful 
 to tell ! he may, at the age of eighteen years, be trusted with 
 a Nation. 
 
 That Monarchy is all a bubble, a mere Court artifice to 
 procure money, is evident, (at least to me), in every charac- 
 ter in which it can be viewed. It would be impossible, on 
 the rational system of representative Government, to make 
 out a bill of expences to such an enormous amount as this 
 deception admits. Government is not of itself a very charge- 
 able institution. The whole expence of the federal Govern- 
 ment of America, founded, as I have already said, on , the 
 system of Representation, and extending over a country 
 nearly ten times as large as England, is but six hundred 
 thousand dollars, or one hundred and thirty-five thousand 
 pounds sterling. 
 
 I presume, thai no Man in his sober senses, will compare 
 the character of any of the kings of Europe with that of Ge- 
 neral Washingron. Yet, in France, and also in England, 
 the expence of the Civil List only, for the support of one 
 Man, is eight times greater than the whole expence of the 
 federal Government in America. To assign a reason for 
 this, appears almost impossible. The generality of people
 
 36" RIGHTS OP MAN. Part II. 
 
 in America, especially the poor, are more able to pay taxes, 
 than the generality of people either in France or England. 
 
 In the Representative system, the reason for every thing 
 must publicly appear. Every Man is a proprietor in Go- 
 vernment, and considers it a necessary part of his business 
 to understand. It concerns his interest, because it affects 
 his property. He examines the cost and compares it with 
 the advantages ; and above all, he does not adopt the 
 slavish custom of following what in other Governments are 
 called LEADERS. 
 
 It can only be by blinding the understanding of Man, and 
 making him believe that Government is some wonderful 
 mysterious thing, that excessive revenues are obtained. 
 Monarchy is well calculated to ensure this end. It is the 
 Popery of Government; a thing kept to amuse the igno- 
 rant, and quiet them into taxes. 
 
 The Government of a free country, properly speaking, is 
 not in the persons, but in the laws. The enacting of those 
 requires no great expence; and when they are administered, 
 the whole of civil Government is performed — the rest is all 
 Court contrivance. 
 
 But the case is, that the Representative system diffuses 
 such a body of knowledge throughout a Nation, on the 
 subject of Government, as to explode ignorance and pre- 
 clude imposition. The craft of Courts cannot be acted on 
 that ground. There *is no place for mystery ; no where for 
 it to begin. Those who are not in the Representation, 
 know as much of the nature of business as those who are. 
 An affectation of mysterious importance would there be 
 scouted. Nations can have no secrets ; and the secrets of 
 Courts, like those of individuals, are always their defects.
 
 Chap. IV, rights of man. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 Of Constitutions. 
 
 That men mean distinct and separate things when they 
 speak of Constitutions and of Governments, is evident; or 
 why, are those terms distinctly and separately used ? A Con- 
 stitution is not the 'act of a Government, but of a People 
 constituting a Government; and a Government without a 
 Constitution, is power without a right. 
 
 All power exercised over a Nation, must have some be- 
 ginning. It must be either delegated or assumed. There 
 are no other sources. All delegated power is trust, and all 
 assumed power is usurpation. Time does not alter the 
 nature and quality of either. 
 
 In viewing this subject, the case and circumstance of Ame- 
 rica present themselves as in the beginning of a world ; and 
 our enquiry into the origin of Government is shortened, by 
 referring to the facts that have arisen in our own day. We 
 have no occasion to roam for information into the obscure 
 field of antiquity, nor hazard ourselves upon conjecture. 
 We are brought at once to the point of seeing Government 
 begin, as if we had lived in the beginning of time. The 
 real volume, not of history, but of facts, is directly before 
 us, unmutilatcd by contrivance, or the errors of tradition. 
 
 I will here concisely state the commencement of the 
 American Constitutions; by which the difference between 
 Constitutions and Governments will sufficiently appear. 
 
 It may not be improper to remind the reader, that the 
 United States of America consist of thirteen separate States, 
 each of which established a Government for itself, after the 
 Declaration of Independence, done the fourth of July 1776. 
 Each State acted independently of the rest, in forming its 
 Government; but the same general principle pervades the 
 whole. When theseveral State Governments were formed, 
 they proceeded to form the federal Government, that acts 
 over the whole in all matters which concern the interest of 
 the whole, or which relate to the intercourse of the several
 
 $S Rights ot max. Part If. 
 
 States with each otner, or with foreign Nation*. I will 
 begin with giving an instance from one of the State Go- 
 vernments, (that of Pennsylvania), and then proceed to the 
 federal Government. 
 
 The State of Pennsylvania, though nearly of the same 
 extent of territory as England, was then divided into only 
 twelve counties. Each of those counties had elected a 
 committee at the commencement of the dispute with the 
 English Government ; and as the City of Philadelphia, 
 which also had its committee, was the most central for 
 intelligence, it became the centre of communication to the 
 several county committees. When it became necessary to 
 proceed to the formation of a Government, the committee 
 of Philadelphia proposed a conference of all the county 
 committees, to be held in that city, and which met the 
 latter end of July 1776. 
 
 Though these committees had been elected by the People, 
 they were not elected expressly for the purpose, ner invested 
 with the authority of forming a Constitution; and as they 
 could not, consistently with the American idea of Rights, 
 assume such a power, they could only confer upon the 
 matter, and put it into a train of operation. The conferees, 
 therefore, did no more than state the case, and recommend 
 to the several counties to elect six representatives for each 
 county, to meet in aConvention atPhiladelphia,with powers 
 to form a Constitution, and propose it for public conside- 
 ration. 
 
 This Convention, of which Betijamin Franklin was presi- 
 dent, having met and deliberated, and agreed upon a Con- 
 stitution, they next ordered it to be published, not as a thing 
 established, but for the consideration of the whole People, 
 their approbation or rejection, and then adjourned to a 
 stated time. When the time of adjournment was expired, 
 the Convention re-assembled ; and as the general opinion of 
 the People in approbation of it was then known, the Con- 
 stitution was signed, sealed, and proclaimed on the autho- 
 rity of the People ; and the original instrument deposited as 
 a public record. The Convention then appointed a day for 
 the general election of the representatives who were to 
 compose the Government, and the time it should com- 
 mence; and having done this, they dissolved, and returned 
 to their several homes and occupations. 
 
 In this Constitution were laid down, first, a Declaration 6f 
 Rights. Then followed the form which the Government 
 should have, and the powers it should possess — the authu-
 
 Chap. IV. rights of man. 39 
 
 rity of the Courts of Judicature, and of Juries — the manner 
 in whic !i ructions should be conducted, and the proportion 
 of reprei- itative* to the number of electors — the time 
 which eac.j succeeding assembly should continue, which 
 was one year.— the mode of levying, and accounting for the 
 expenditure, of public money — of appointing public olli- 
 cers, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 No article of this Constitution could be altered or in- 
 fringed at the discretion of the Government that was to 
 ensue. It was to that Government a law. But as it would 
 have been unwise to preclude the benefit of experience, 
 and in order also to prevent the accumulation of errors, if 
 any should be found, and to preserve an unison of Govern- 
 ment with the circumstances of the State at all times, the 
 Constitution provided, that, at the expiration of every seven 
 years, a Convention should be elected, for the express pur- 
 pose of revising the Constitution, and making alterations, 
 additions, or abolitions therein, if any socli should be found 
 necessary. 
 
 Here we see a regular process — a Government issuing out 
 of a Constitution, formed by the People in their oriental 
 character ; and that Constitution serving, not only as an 
 authority, but as a law of controul to the Government. It 
 was the political Bible of the State. Scarcely a family was 
 without it. Every member of the Government had a copy ; 
 and nothing was more common when any debate arose on 
 the principle of a Bill, or on the extent of any species of 
 authority, than for the members to take the printed Con- 
 stitution out of their pocket, and read the chapter with 
 which such matter in debate was connected. 
 
 Having thus given an instance from one of the States, I 
 will shew the proceedings by which the federal Constitu- 
 tion of the United States arose and was formed. 
 
 Congress, at its two first meetings, in September 1774, 
 and May 1775, was nothing more than a deputation 
 from the legislatures of the several provinces, afterward* 
 States ; and had no other authority than what arose from 
 common consent, and the necessity of its acting as a puhr 
 lie body. In every thing which related to the internal atJaiis 
 of America, Congress went no farther than to issue recom- 
 mendations to the several provincial assemblies, who at dis- 
 cretion adopted them or not. Nothing on the part, 
 of Congress was compulsive; yes, in this situation, it was 
 more faithfully and affectionately obeyed, than was any 
 Government in Europe. This instance, like that of the Na-
 
 40 RIGHTS OF 5U.V. Part IP 
 
 tional Assembly of France, sufficiently shews, that the 
 strength of Goverment does not consist in any thing within 
 itself, but in the attachment of a Nation, and the interest 
 which the People feel in supporting it. When this is lost. 
 Government is but a child in power ; and though,, like the 
 old Government of France-, it may harrass individuals for a 
 while, it but facilitates its own fall. 
 
 After the Declaration of Independence, it became consist- 
 ent with the principle on which representative Government 
 is founded, that the authority of Congress should be defined 
 and established. \Vhether that authority should be more 
 or less than Congress then discretionaily, exercised, was not 
 the question. It was merely the rectitude of the 
 measure. 
 
 For this purpose, the act called the act of confederation, 
 which was a sort of imperfect federal Constitution), was pro- 
 posed, and, after long deliberation, was concluded in the 
 year 1781. It was not the act of Congress, because it is 
 repugnant to the principles of representative Government 
 that a body should give power to itself. Congress first in- 
 formed the several States of the powers which it conceived 
 were necessary to be invested in the Union, to enable it to 
 perform the duties and services required from it ; and the 
 States severally agreed with each other, and concentrated in 
 Congress those powers. 
 
 It may not be improper to observe, that in both those in- 
 stances (the one pf Pennsylvania, and the other of the Uni- 
 ted States), there is no such thing as the idea of a compact 
 between the People on ope side, and the Government on the 
 other. The compact was that of the People with each other 
 to produce and constitute a Government. To suppose that 
 any Government can be a party in a dompact with the 
 whole People, is to suppose it to have existence before it 
 can have a right to exist. The only instance in which a 
 compact can take place between the Pe >ple and those who 
 exercise the Government, is, that the People shall pay them, 
 while they chuse to employ them. 
 
 Government is not a trade which any man or body of met) 
 has a right to set up and exercise for his or their own emo- 
 lument, but is altogether a trust, in right of those by whom, 
 that trust is delegated, and by whom it is always resume- 
 able. It has of itself no rights; they are altogether duties. 
 
 Having thus given two instances of the original forma- 
 tion of a Constitution, I will shew the manner in which, 
 130th have been changed since their first establishment.
 
 Ch A.F. IV- RUJIITS OF MAN. 41 
 
 The powers vested in the Governments of the several 
 States, by the State Constituti 3, were found, upon expe- 
 rience, to be too great ; an.! those vested iu the federal Go- 
 vernment, by the act of confederation, too little. The 
 defect was not in the principle, but in the distribution of 
 power. 
 
 Numerous publications, in pamphlets and in the news- 
 papers, appeared, on the propriety and necessity of new 
 modelling the federal Government. After some time of 
 public discussion, carried on through the channel of. the 
 press, and in conversations, the State of Virginia, experi- 
 encing some inconvenience with respect to commerce, pro- 
 posed holding a continental conference ; in consequence of 
 which, a deputation from five or six of the State Assemblies 
 met at Anapolis in Maryland, in 1780. This meeting, not 
 conceiving itself sufficiently authorised to go into the busi- 
 ness of a reform, did no more than state their general opi- 
 nions of the propriety of the measure, and recommend that 
 a Convention of all the States should be held \ixt ycj. fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 This Convention met at Philadelphia in May 17S7, of 
 which General Washington was elected President. He was 
 not at that time connected with any of the State Govern- 
 ments, or with Congress. He delivered up his commission 
 when the war ended, and since then had lived a private 
 citizen. 
 
 The convention went deeply into all the subjects ; and 
 having, after a variety of debate and investigation, agreed 
 among themselves upon the several parts of a federal Con- 
 stitution, the next qirestiou was, the manner of giving it 
 authority and practice. 
 
 For this purpose, they did not, like a cabal of Courtiers,' 
 send for a Dutch Stadtholder, or a German Elector; but 
 they referred the whole matter to the sense and interest of 
 the country. 
 
 They first directed, that the proposed Constitution should 
 be published. Secondly, that each State should elect a 
 Convention, expressly for the purpose of taking it into con- 
 sideration, and of ratifying or rejecting it; and that as soon 
 as the approbation and ratification of any nine States should 
 be given, those States should proceed to the election of 
 their proportion of meirrbers to the new federal Govern- 
 ment ; and that the operation of it should then begin, and 
 the former federal Government cease.
 
 4*2 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II, 
 
 The several States proceeded accordingly to elect their 
 Conventions. Some of those Conventions ratified the Con- 
 stitution by very large majorities, and two or three unani- 
 mously. In others there were much debate and division of 
 opinion. In the Massachusetts Convention, which met at 
 Boston, the majority was not above nineteen or twenty, in 
 about three hundred members; but such is the nature of 
 representative Government, that it quietly decides all mat- 
 ters by majority. After the debate in the Massachusetts 
 Convention was closed, and the vote taken, the objecting 
 members, rose, and declared, ** That though they had argued 
 and voted against it, because certain parts appeared to them 
 in a different light to what they appeared to other members ; 
 yet, as the vote had decided in favour of the Constitution as 
 proposed, they should give it the same practical support as if 
 they had voted for it." 
 
 As soon as nine States had concurred, (and the rest fol- 
 lowed in the order their Conventions were elected), the old 
 fabric of the federal Government was taken down, and the 
 new one erected, of which General Washington is Presi- 
 dent. In this place I cannot help remarking, that the 
 character and services of this gentleman are sufficient to 
 put all those men called Kings to shame. While they are 
 receiving from the sweat and labours of mankind, a prodi- 
 gality of pay, to which neither their abilities nor their 
 services can entitle them, he is rendering every service in 
 his power, and refusing every pecuniary reward. He ac- 
 cepted no pay as Commander in Chief; he accepts none as 
 President of the United States. 
 
 After the new federal Constitution was established, the 
 State of Pennsylvania, conceiving that some parts of its own 
 Constitution required to be altered, elected a Convention 
 for that purpose. The proposed alterations were pub- 
 lished, and the people concurring therein, they were 
 established. 
 
 In forming those Constitutions, or in altering them, little 
 or no inconvenience took place. The ordinary course of 
 things was not interrupted, and the advantages have been 
 much. It is always the interest of a far greater Dumber of 
 People in a Nation to have things right, than to let them 
 remain wrong : and when public matters are open to debate, 
 and the public judgment free, it will not decide wrong, 
 unless it decides too hastily. 
 
 In the two instances of changing the Constitutions, the
 
 CilAF. IV. RIGHTS OF MAN. 43 
 
 Government then in being were not actors either way. Go- 
 vernment has no right to make itself a party in any debate 
 respecting the principles or modes of forming, or of chang- 
 ing Constitutions. It is not for the benefit of those who 
 exercise the powers of Government, that Constitutions, and 
 the Governments issuing from them, are established. In 
 all those matters, the right of judging and acting are in 
 those who pay, and not in those who receive. 
 
 A Constitution is the property of a Nation, and not of 
 those who exercise the Government. All the Constitutions 
 of America are declared to be established on the authority 
 of the People. In France, the word Nation is used instead 
 of the People; but in both cases, a Constitution is a thing 
 antecedent to the Government, and always distinct there- 
 from. 
 
 In England, it is not difficult to perceive that every thing 
 has a Constitution, except the Nation. Every society and 
 association that is established, first agreed upon a number of 
 original articles, digested into form, which are its Constitu- 
 tion. It then appointed its officers, whose powers and au- 
 thorities are described in that Constitution, and the Govern- 
 ment of that society then commenced. Those officers, by 
 whatever name they are called, have no authority to add to, 
 alter, or abridge the original articles. It is only to the con- 
 stituting power that this right belongs. 
 
 From the want of understanding the difference between a 
 Constitution and a Government, Dr. Johnson, and a'l the 
 writers of his description, have always bewildered them- 
 selves. They could not but perceive, that there must neces- 
 sarily be a controuling power existing somewhere, and thev 
 placed this power in the discretion of the persons exercising 
 the Government, instead of placing it in a Constitution 
 formed by the Nation. When it is in a Constitution, it has 
 the Nation for its support, aud the natural and the political 
 controuling powers are together. The laws which are en- 
 acted by Governments, controul men only as individuals, but 
 the Nation, through its Constitution, controuls the whole 
 Government, and has a natural ability so to do. The final 
 controuling power, therefore, and the original constituting 
 power, are one and the same power. 
 
 Dr. Johnson could not have advanced such a position in 
 any country where there was a Constitution; and he if 
 himself an evidence, that no such thing as a Constitution exl 
 i»ts in England. — But it may be put as a question, not, im- 
 proper to be investigated, That if a Constitution, does not
 
 
 41 it i guts of man. Part II« 
 
 exist, bow came the idea of its existence so generally esta- 
 blished ? 
 
 In order to decide this question, it is necessary to consi- 
 der a Constitution in both its' cases : — First, as creating a 
 Government and giving it powers. Secondly, as regulating 
 ami restraining the powers so given. 
 
 If we begin with William, of Normandy, we find that the 
 Government of England was originally a tyranny, founded 
 on an invasion and conquest of the country. This being 
 admitted, it will then appear, that the exertion of the Na- 
 tion, at different periods, to abate that tyranny, and render 
 it less intolerable, has been credited for a Constitution. 
 
 Magna Charta, as it was called, (it is now like an alma- 
 nack of the same date,) was no more than compelling the 
 Government to renounce a part of its assumptions. It did 
 i!Ot create and give powers to Government in the manner a 
 Constitution does; but was, as far as it went, of the nature 
 of a re-conquest, and not of a Constitution; for could the 
 Nation have totally expelled the usurpation, as France has 
 done its despotism, it would then have had a Constitution 
 to form. 
 
 The history of the Edwards and Henries, and up to the 
 commencement of the Stuart*, exhibits as many instances of 
 tyranny as could be acted witnin the -limits to which the 
 Nation had restricted it. The Stuarts endeavoured to pass 
 those limits, juul their fate is well knowu. -In all those in- 
 stances we see nothing of a Constitution, but only of re- 
 strictions on assumed power. 
 
 After this, another William, descended fromthe.same 
 stock, and claiming from the same origin, gained pos- 
 .session; and of the two evils, James and IVilliam, the Na- 
 tion preferred what it thought the least; since, from these 
 circumstances, it must take one. The Act, called the Bill of 
 Rights, comes here into view. What is it but a bargain, 
 which the parts of the Government made with each other 
 to divide powers, profits, and privileges? You shall have 
 so much, and . I will have the rest; and with respect to the 
 Nation, it s*iid, for your share, you shah 'have the. Right of 
 Petitioning. This being the case, the Bill of Rights is more 
 properly a bill of wrongs, and of insult. As to what is 
 called the Convention Parliament, it was a thing that made 
 itself, and then made the authority by which it acted. A. 
 lew persons got together, and called themselves by that 
 earned Several of them had never been elected, and none 
 of them for the purpose.
 
 CllAP. IV. RIGHTS OP MAN. 45 
 
 From the time of William, a species of Government arose, 
 issuing out of this coalition Bill of Rights, and more so, 
 since the corruption introduced at the Hanover succession, 
 by the agency of Walpole, that can be described by no 
 other name than a despotic legislation. Though the parts 
 may embarrass each other, the whole has no bounds ; and 
 the only Right it acknowleges out of itself is the Right of 
 Petitioning. Where then is the Constitution either that 
 gives or that restrains power? 
 
 It is not because a part of the Government is elective, that 
 makes it less a despotism, if the persons so elected, possess 
 afterwards, as a Parliament, unlimited powers. Election, in 
 this case, becomes separated from representation, and the 
 candidates are canditates for despotism. 
 
 I cannot believe that any Nation, reasoning on its own 
 Rights, would have thought of calling those things a Consti- 
 tution, if the cry of Constitution had not been set up by the 
 Government. It has got into circulation like the words bore 
 and quoz, by being chalked up in the speeches of Parlia- 
 ment, as those words were on window-shutters and door- 
 posts; but whatever the Constitution may be in other 
 respects, it has undoubtedly been the most productive ma- 
 chine of taxation that was ever invented. The taxes in France, 
 under the new Constitution, are not quite thirteen shillings 
 per head*, and the taxes in England, under what is called 
 its present Constitution, are forty-eight shillings and six- 
 pence per head, men, women, and children, amounting to 
 nearly seventeen millions sterling, besides the expence of 
 collection, which is upwards of a million more. 
 
 In a country like England, where the whole of the Civil 
 Government is executed by the People of every town and 
 country, by means of parish officers, magistrates, quarterly 
 sessions, juries, and assize, without any trouble to what is 
 
 * The whole amount of the Assessed Taxes of Frauce, for the 
 present year, is three hundred millions of livres, which is twelve 
 millions and an half sterling; and the Incidental Taxes are esti- 
 mated at three millions, making in the whole fifteen millions and 
 an half ; which, among twenty-four millions of People, is not quite 
 thirteen shillings per head. France has lessened her taxes li 
 the Revolution, nearly nine millions sterling annually. Befora 
 the Revolution, the City of Paris paid a duty of upwards of thirty 
 per cent, on all articles brought into the Ci^y. This tax was col- 
 lected at the City gates. It was taken off 'on the tirst of last May, 
 and the gates taken down. 

 
 46' RIGHTS OP MAS. PART II. 
 
 called the Government, or any other expence to the Reve- 
 nue than the salary of the Judges, it isastonishing how such 
 a mass of taxes can be employed. Not even the internal 
 defence of the country is paid out of the Revenue. On all 
 occasions, whether real or contrived, recourse is continually 
 had to new loans and to new taxes. No wonder, then, that a 
 machine of Government so advantageous to the advocates of 
 a Court, should be so triumphantly extolled! No wonder, 
 that St. James's or St. Stephen's should echo with the con- 
 tinual cry of Constitution ! No wonder, that the French 
 Revolution should be r'e probated, and the res-publica treated 
 with reproach! The Red Book of England, like the Red 
 Book of France, will explain the reason*. 
 ' I will now, by way of relaxation, turn a thought or two to 
 •Mr. Burke. I ask his pardon for neglecting him so long. 
 
 " America," says he, (in his speech on the Canada Con- 
 stitution Bill)" never dreamed of such absurd doctrine as 
 the Rights of Man." 
 
 Mr. Burke is such a bold presumer, and advances his as- 
 sertions and his premises with such a deficiency of judg- 
 ment, that, without troubling ourselves about principles of 
 Philosophy or Politics, the mere logical conclusions they 
 produce, are ridiculous. For instance, 
 
 If Governments, as Mr. Burke asserts, are not founded on 
 the Rights of Max, and are founded on any rights at all, 
 they consequently must he founded on the rights of some- 
 thing that is not man. What then is that something? 
 
 Generally speaking, we know of no other creatures that 
 inhabit the earth than Man and Beast; and in all cases, 
 where only two things offer themselves, and one must be ad- 
 mitted, a negation proved on any one, amounts to an affir- 
 mative on theother; and therefore, Mr. Burke, by proving 
 again6t the Rights of Man, proves in behalf of the Beast ; 
 and consequently proves that Government is a Beast : and as 
 difficult things sometimes explain each other, we now sea 
 the origin of keeping/ wild beasts in the Tower; for they 
 certainly can be of no other use than to shew the origin of 
 the Government. They are in the place of a Constitution. 
 O John Bull, what honours thou hast lost by not being a 
 wild beast! Thou mightest on Mr. Burke's system, have 
 been in the Tower for life. 
 
 * What was called t]ie livre rovge, or the Red Book, in France, 
 was not exactly similar to the Court Caleudar in England ; but it 
 suffiti^ntly shewed how a great part of the taxes was lavished.
 
 CUAP. IV. RIGHTS OP MAH. 47 
 
 If Mr. Burke's orguments have not weight enough to keep 
 one serious, the fault is less mine than his; and a9 lam 
 willing to make an apology to the readfcr for the liberty I 
 have taken, I hope Mr. Burke will also make his for giving 
 the cause. 
 
 Having thus paid Mr. Burke the compliment ofremem- 
 bering him, I return to the subject. 
 
 From the want of a Constitution in England to restrain 
 and regulate the wild impulse of power, many of the laws 
 are irrational and tyrannical, and the administration of then 
 vague and problematical. 
 
 The attention of the Government of England, (for I 
 rather chuse to call it by this name, than the English Go- 
 vernment) appears, since its political connexion with Ger- 
 many, to have been so completely engrossed and absorbed 
 by foreign affairs, and the means of raising taxes, that it 
 seems to exist for no other purposes. Domestic concerna 
 are neglected ; and with respect to regular law, there is 
 scarcely such a thing. 
 
 Almost every case now must be determined by some pre- 
 cedent, be that precedent good or bad, or whether it pro- 
 perly applies or not: and the practice is becom * so general, 
 as to suggest a suspicion, that it proceeds from a deepec 
 policy than at first sight appears. 
 
 Since the Revolution of America, and more so since that 
 of France, this preaching up the doctrine of precedents, 
 drawn from times and circumstances antecedent to those 
 events, has been the studied practice of the English Go- 
 vernment. The generality of those precedents are founded 
 on principles and opinions, the reverse of what they oughb 
 to be ; and the greater distance of time they ate drawn from, 
 the more they are to be suspected. But by associating those 
 precedents with a superstitious reverence for ancient things, 
 as Monks shew relics and call them Holy, the generality ot" 
 mankind are deceived into the design. Governments now 
 act as if they were afraid to awaken a single reflection in 
 Man. They arc softly leading him to the sepulchre of 
 precedents, to deaden his faculties and call his attention 
 from the scene of Revolutions. They feel that he is arriving 
 at knowledge faster than they wish, and their policy of pre- 
 cedents is the barometer of their fears. This Political 
 Popery, like the Ecclesiastical Popery of old, has had its 
 day, and i* hastening to its exit. The ragged relic and 
 the antiquated precedent ; the Monk and the Monarch, 
 will moulder together. 
 
 Goverurjaerjt by precedent, without any regard to the
 
 4S RIGHTS OT MAN. JPAST II. 
 
 principle of the precedent, is one of the vilest systems that 
 can be set up. In numerous instances, the precedent ought 
 to operate as a warning, and not as an example, and re- 
 quires to be shunned instead of imitated ; but instead of 
 this, precedents are taken in the lump, and put at once for 
 Constitution and for Law. 
 
 Either the doctrine of precedents is policy to keep a Man 
 in a state of ignorance, or it is a practical confession that 
 ■wisdom degenerates in Governments as Governments in- 
 crease in age, and can only hobble along by the stilts and 
 crutches of precedents. How is it that the same persons 
 >vho would proudly be thought wiser than their prede- 
 cessors, appear at the same time only as the ghosts of de- 
 parted wisdom? How strangely is antiquity treated! To 
 answer some purposes it is spoken of as the time of dark- 
 ness and ignorance, and to answer others, it is put for the 
 light of the world. 
 
 If the doctrine of precedents is to be followed, the ex- 
 pences of Government need not continue the same. Why 
 pay men extravagantly, who have but little to do ? If 
 every thing that can happen is already in precedent, legis- 
 lation is at an end, and precedent, like a dictionary, deter- 
 mines every case. Either, therefore, Government has ar- 
 rived at its dotage, and requires to be renovated, or all the. 
 occasions for exercising its wisdom have occurred. 
 
 We now see all over Europe, and particularly in England, 
 the curious phenomenon of a Nation looking one way, and 
 Si Government the other — the one forward and the other 
 backward. If Governments are to go on by precedent, while 
 Nations go on by improvement, they must at last come t<? 
 a final separation; and the sooner, and the more civilly they 
 determine this point, the better*. ^ 
 
 * In England the improvements in agriculture, useful arts, ma- 
 nufacture*, and commerce, have been made in opposition to the 
 genius of its Government, which is that of following precedents. It 
 is from the enterprize and industry of the individuals, and their 
 numerous associations, in which, tritely speaking, Government is 
 neither pillow nor bolster, that these improvements have proceeded. 
 No man thought about the Government, or who was in, or who was 
 out, when he was planning or executing those things ; and all he 
 had to hope, with respect to Government, was, that it would let 
 Aim alone. Three or four very silly Ministeiial news-papers are 
 continually offending against the spirit of National improvement : 
 by ascribing it to a Minister. They may with as much truth ascribe 
 this book to u Minister,
 
 Chap. IV. rights of ma y. 49 
 
 Having thus spoken of Constitutions generally, as things 
 distinct from actual Governments, let us proceed to consider 
 the parts of which a .Constitution is composed. 
 
 Opinions differ more on this subject, than with respect to 
 the whole. That a Nation ought to have a Constitution, as 
 n rule for the conduct of its Government, is a simple ques- 
 tion in which all men, not directly Courtiers, wiil agree. It 
 is only on the component parts that questions and opinions 
 multiply. 
 
 But this difficulty, like every other, will diminish when 
 put into a train of being rightly understood. 
 
 The first thing is, that a Nation has a right to establish 
 a Constitution. 
 
 Whether it exercises this right in the most judicious 
 manner at first, is quite another case. It exercises it agree- 
 nbly to the judgment it possesses ; and by continuing to do 
 so, all errors will at last he exploded. 
 
 When this right is established in a Nation, there is no 
 fear that it will be employed to its own injury. A Nation 
 can have no interest in being wrong. 
 
 Though all the Constitutions of America are on one ge- 
 neral principle, yet no two of them are exactly alike in their 
 component parts, or in the distribution of the powers which 
 they give to the actual Governments, Some are more, and 
 others less complex. 
 
 In forming a Constitution, it is first necessary to consider 
 what are the ends for which Government is lrecessary ? Se- 
 condly, what are the best means, and the least expensive, 
 for accomplishing those ends ? 
 
 Government is nothing more than a National association ; 
 and the object of this association is the good of all, as well 
 individually as collectively. Every Man wisheg to pursue 
 his occupation, and to enjoy the fruits of his labours, and the 
 produce of his property in peace and safely, and with the 
 least possible expence. When these things are accom- 
 plished, all the objects for which Government ought to be 
 established are answered. 
 
 It has been customary to consider Government under three 
 distinct general heads. The legislative, the executive, and 
 the judicial. 
 
 But if we permit our judgment to act unincumbered by 
 the habit of multiplied terms, we can perceive no more than 
 two divisions of power, of which Civil Government is com- 
 posed, namely, that of legislating or enacting laws, and that 
 of executing or administering tkem. Every thing, therefore
 
 $0 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART IL 
 
 appertaining to Civil Government, classes itself under one or 
 other of these two divisions. 
 
 So far as regards the execution of tlje laws, that which is 
 called the Judicial power, is strictly and properly the exe- 
 cutive power of every country. It is that power to which 
 every individual has appeal, and which causes the laws to 
 be executed; neither have we any other clear idea with re- 
 spect to the official execution of the laws. In England, 
 and also in America and France, this power begins with the 
 Magistrate, and proceeds up through all the Courts of Judi- 
 cature. 
 
 I leave to Courtiers to explain what is meant by calling 
 Monarchy the executive power. It is merely a name in 
 which acts of Government are done ; and any other, or none 
 at all, would answer the same purpose. Laws have neither 
 more nor less authority on this account. It must be from 
 the justness of their principles, and the interest which a 
 Nation feels therein, that they derive support; if they re- 
 quire any other than this, it is a sign that something in the 
 system of Government is imperfect. Laws difficult to be 
 executed cannot be generally good." 
 
 With resp°ct to the organization of the legislative power, 
 different modes have been adopted in different countries. In 
 America it is generally composed of two houses. In France 
 it consists but of one, but in both countries it is wholly by 
 representation. 
 
 The case is, that mankind (from the long tyranny of as- 
 sumed power) have had so few opportunities of making the 
 necessary trials on modes and principles of Government, in 
 order to discover the best, that Government is but now begin- 
 ning to be known, and experience is yet wanting to determine 
 many particulars. 
 
 The objections against two houses, are, first, that there is 
 an inconsistency in any part of a whole legislature, coming 
 to a final determination by vote on any matter, whilst f/*af 
 matter, with respect to that whole, is yet only in a train of 
 deliberation, and consequently open to new illustrations. 
 
 Secondly, That by taking the vote on each, as a separate 
 body, it always admits of the possibility, and is often the 
 case in practice, that the minority governs the majority, and 
 that, in some instances, to a degree of great inconsistency. 
 
 Thirdly, That two Houses arbitrarily checking or con- 
 trouling each other is inconsistent; because it cannot be 
 proved, on the principles of just representation, that either 
 should be wiser or better thau the other. They may check
 
 Chap. IV. rights of man. £l 
 
 in the wrong as well as in the right, — and therefore, to give 
 the power where we cannot give the wisdom to use it, nor 
 be assured of its being rightly used, renders the hazard at 
 least equal to the precaution*. 
 
 The objection against a single House is, that it is always 
 in a condition of committing itself too soon. — But it should 
 at the same time be remembered, that when there is a Con- 
 stitution which defines the power, and establishes the prin- 
 ciples within which a legislature shall act, there is already a 
 more effectual check provided, and more powerfully operat- 
 ing, than any other check can be. For example : 
 
 Were a Bill to be brought into any of the Americnn le- 
 gislatures, similar to that which was passed into an act by 
 the English Parliament, at the commencement of George 
 the First, to extend the duration of the assemblies to a 
 longer period than they now sit, the check is in the Constitu- 
 tion, which in effect say«, Thus far shalt thou go andno far- 
 ther. 
 
 But in order to remove the objection against a single 
 House, (that of acting with too quick an impulse,) and at 
 the same time to avoid the inconsistencies, in some cases 
 absurdities, arising from two Houses, the following method 
 has been proposed as an improvement on both. 
 
 First, To have but one representation. 
 
 Secondly, To divide that representation, by lot, into two 
 or three parts. 
 
 Thirdly, That every proposed Bill, shall be first debated 
 in those parts by succession, that they may become 
 hearers of each other, but without taking any vote. After 
 
 * With respect to the two Houses, of which the English Parlia- 
 ment is composed, tfley appear to be effectually influenced into 
 one, and, as a legislature, to have no temper of its own. The Mi- 
 nister, whoever he at any time may be, touches itaswitli an opium 
 wand, and it sleeps obedience. 
 
 But if we look at the distinct abilities of the two Houses, the dif- 
 ference wi!' api; a' so gnat, as to shew the inconsistency of placing 
 power whe* there can he no certainty of the judgment to us» it. 
 AV retched as the state of representation is in England, it is inan-% 
 hood compared with wl at is called the House of Lords ; and %<* 
 little is this nicknamed House regarded, that the People scarcely 
 enquire at any time what it is doing. It appears also to be most 
 under influence, and the furthest removed from the general in- 
 terest of the Nation.
 
 $* RIGHTS OF MAN. Part II. 
 
 which the whole representation, to assemble for a general 
 debate and determination by vote. 
 
 To this proposed improvement has been added another, 
 for the purpose of keeping the representation in a state of 
 constant renovation; which is, that one-third of the repre- 
 sentation of each county, shall go out at the expiration of 
 one year, and the number replaced by new elections. — 
 Another third at the expiration of the second year replaced 
 in like manner, and every third year to be a general election*. 
 
 But in whatever manner the separate parts of a Consti- 
 tution maybe arranged, there is one general principle that 
 distinguishes freedom from slavery, which is, that all here- 
 ditary Government over a People is to them a species of slavery, 
 and Representative Government i% freedom: 
 
 Considering Government in the only light in which it 
 should be considered, that of a National Association; 
 it ought to be so constructed as not to be disordered by any 
 accident happening among the parts; and, therefore, no ex- 
 traordinary power, capable of producing such an eiFect, 
 should be lodged in the hands of any individual. The death, 
 sickness, absence, or defection, of any one individual in a 
 Government, ought to be a matter of no more consequence, 
 with respect to the Nation, than if the same circumstance 
 had taken place in a Member of the English Parliament, or 
 the French National Assembly. 
 
 Scarcely any thing presents a more degrading character of 
 National greatness, than its being thrown into confusion by 
 any thing happening to, or acted by, an individual ; and the 
 ridiculousness of the scene is often increased by the natural 
 .significance of the person by whom it is occasioned. Were 
 a Government so constructed, that it. could not go on unless 
 a goose or gander were present in the Semite, the difficulties 
 ■would be just as great and a* real on the flight or sickness of 
 the goose, or the gander, as if it were called a King. We 
 jaugh at individuals for the silly difficulties they make to 
 themselves, without perceiving, that the greatest of all ridi- 
 culous things are acted in Governments!. 
 
 * As to the state of representation in England, it is too absurd 
 lobe reasoned upon. Almost all the represented parts are decreas- 
 ing in population, and the unrepresented parts are increasing. A 
 general Convention of the Nation is necessary to take the whole 
 state of its Government into consideration. 
 
 t It is related that in the Canton of Berne, in Switserland, it had 
 been customary, from time immemorial, to keep a bear at the pub-
 
 Chap. IV. rights of mav. 53 
 
 All the Constitutions of America are on a plan that ex- 
 cludes the childish embarrassments which occur in Monar- 
 chical countries. No suspension of Government can there 
 take place for a moment, from any circumstance whatever. 
 The system of representation provides for every thing, and 
 is the only system in which Nations and Governments caw 
 always appear in their proper character. 
 
 As extraordinary power ought not to be lodged in the 
 hands of any individual, so ought there to be no appropria- 
 tions of public money to any person, beyond what his ser- 
 vices in a state may be worth. It signifies not whether a 
 Man be called a President, a King, an Emperor, a Senator, 
 or by any other name, which propriety or folly may devise, 
 or arrogance assume ; it is only a certain service he can 
 perform in the State; and the service of any such individual 
 in the rotineof office, whether such office be called Monar- 
 chical, Presidential, Senatorial, or by any other name or ti- 
 tle, can never exceed the value of ten thousand pounds a 
 year. All the great services that are done in the world are 
 performed by volunteer characters, who accept nothing for 
 them ; but the rotine of office is always regulated to such a 
 general standard of abilities as to be within the compass of 
 numbers in every country to perform, and therefore cannot 
 merit very extraordinary recompence. Government, says 
 Swift, is a plain thing, and Jilted to the capacity of many 
 heads. 
 
 It is inhuman to talk of a million sterling a year, paid out 
 of the public taxes of any country, for the support of any 
 
 lrc expence, and -the People had been taught to believe, that if they 
 hud not a bear they should all be undone. It happened some 
 years ago, that the bear, then in being, was taken sick, and died 
 too suddenly to have his place immediately supplied with another. 
 During this interregnum the People discovered, that the corn grew, 
 and the vintage flourished, and the sun and moon continued to rise 
 and set, and every thing went on the same as before, and, taking 
 courage from these circumstances, they resolved not to keep any 
 more bears ; for, said they, " a bear is a very voracious, expensive 
 animal, and we were obliged to pull out his claws, lest he should 
 hurt the citizens." 
 
 The story of the bear of Berne was related in some of the French 
 news-papers, at the time of the flight of Louis XVI. and the appli- 
 cation of it to Monarchy could not be mistaken in France; but it 
 seems, that the Aristocracy of Berne applied it to themselves, and 
 have since prohibited the reading of French news-papers,
 
 54 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 individual, whilst thousands who are forced to contribute 
 thereto, are pining with waut, and struggling with misery. 
 Government does not consist in a contrast between prisons 
 and palaces, between poverty and pomp ; it is not instituted 
 to rob the needy of his mite, and increase the wretchedness 
 of the wretched. — But of this part of the subject I shall 
 speak hereafter, and confine myself at present to political 
 observations. 
 
 When extraordinary power and extraordinary pay are 
 allotted to any individual in a Government, he becomes 
 the centre, round which every kind of corruption generates 
 and forms. Give to any Man a million a year, and add 
 thereto the power of creating and disposing of places, at 
 the expence of a country, and the liberties of that country 
 are no longer secure. What is called the splendor of a 
 throne is no other than the corruption of the State. It is 
 made up of a band of Parasites, living in luxurious indo- 
 lence, out of the public taxes. 
 
 When once such a vicious system is established it be- 
 comes the guard and protection of all inferior abuses. The 
 Man who is in the receipt of a million a year is the last per- 
 son to promote a spirit of Reform, lest, in the event, it 
 should reach to himself. It is always his interest to defend 
 inferior abuses, as so many out-works to protect the Citadel; 
 and in this species of political fortification, all the parts have 
 such a cdmmon dependence that it is never to be expected 
 they will attack each other*. 
 
 * It is scarcely possible to touch on any subject, that will not. 
 suggest an allusion to some corruption in Governments. The simile 
 of '*• fortifications ," unfortunately involves with it a circumstance, 
 •which is directly in point with the matter above alluded to. 
 
 Among the numerous instances of abuse which have- been acted 
 or protected by Governments, ancient or modern, there is not * 
 greater than that of quartering a man and his heirs upon the pub- 
 lic, to be maintained at its expence. 
 
 Humanity dictates a provision for the poor ; but by what right, 
 moral or political, does any Government assume to say, that the 
 person called the Duke of Richmond, shall be maintained by the 
 public ? Yet, if common report is true, not a beggar in London 
 can purchase his wretched pittance of coal, without paying towards 
 the Givil List of the Duke of Richmond. .Were the whole produce 
 of this imposition but a shilling a year, the iniquitous principle 
 would be stjll the same ; but when it amounts, as it is said to dc.
 
 Chap. IV. rights of mav. £5 
 
 Monarchy would not have continued so many ages in the 
 ■world, iiad it not been for the abuses it protects. It is the 
 master- fraud, which shelters all others. By admitting a 
 participation of the spoil, it makes itself frjends; and 
 when it ceases to do this, it will cease to be the idol of 
 Courtiers. 
 
 As the principle on which Constitutions are now formed, 
 rejects all hereditary pretensions to Government, it also 
 rejects all that catalogue of assumptions known by the name 
 of Prerogatives. 
 
 If there is any Government where Prerogatives might with 
 apparent safety be entrusted, to any individual, it is in the 
 federal Government of America. The President of the 
 United States of America is elected only for four years. 
 He is not only responsible in the general sense of the word, 
 but a particular mode is laid down in the Constitution for 
 trying him. He cannot be elected under thirty- five years 
 of age ; and lie must be a native of the Country. 
 
 In a comparison of these cases with the Government of 
 England, the difference when applied to the latter amounts 
 to an absurdity. In England the person who exercises 
 Prerogative is often a foreigner ; always half a foreigner, 
 and always married to a' foreigner. He is never in full 
 natural or political connection with the Country, is not re- 
 sponsible for any thing, and becomes of age at eighteen 
 years; yet such a person is permitted to form foreign 
 alliances, without even the knowledge of the Nation, and to 
 make war and peace without its consent. 
 
 But this is not all. Though such a person cannot dis- 
 pose of the Government, in the manner of a Testator, he 
 dictates the marriage connections, which, in effect, accom- 
 plishes a very great part of the same end. He cannot 
 directly bequeath half the Government to Prussia, but he 
 can form a marriage partnership that will always produce 
 the same thing. Under such circumstances, it is happy for 
 
 to no less than twenty thousand pounds per aim. the enormity is 
 too serious to be permitted to remain. — This is one oi the effects of 
 Monarchy and Aristocracy. 
 
 In stating this case, I am led by no 'personal dislike. Though 
 I think it mean in any man to live upon the public, the vice ori- 
 ginates in the Government ; and so general is it become, that 
 whether the parties are in the Ministry or in the Opposition, it makes 
 no difference ; they are sure of the guarantee of each other.
 
 50 RIGHTS OF MAX. PaRT. if. 
 
 England that she is not situated on the Continent, or she 
 might, like Holland, fall under the dictatorship of Prussia. 
 Holland, by marriage, is as effectually governed by Prussia, 
 as if the old tyranny of bequeathing the Government had 
 been the means. 
 
 The Presidency in America, (or, as it is sometimes called, 
 the Executive,) is the onty office from which a foreigner is 
 excluded, and in England it is the only one to which he is 
 admitted. A foreigner cannot be a Member of Parliament, 
 but he may be what is called a King. If there is any reason 
 for excluding foreigners, it ought to be from those offices 
 where mischief can be most acted, and where by uniting 
 every bias of interest and attachment, the trust is best 
 secured. 
 
 But as Nations proceed in the great business of forming 
 Constitutions, they will examine with more precision into 
 the nature and business of that department which is called 
 the Executive. What the Legislative and Judicial depart- 
 ments are, everyone can see; but with respect to what, in 
 Europe, is called the Executive, as distinct from those two, 
 it is either a political superfluity, or a chaos of uuknown 
 things. 
 
 Some kind of official department to which reports shall 
 be made from the different parts of the Nation, or from 
 abroad, to be laid before the National Representatives, is all 
 that is necessary; but there is no consistency in calling this 
 Executive; neither can it be considered in any other light 
 than as inferior to the Legislative. The sovereign authority 
 in any Country is the power of making laws, and every 
 thing else is an official department. 
 
 Next to the arrangement of the principles and the orga- 
 nization of the several parts of a Constitution, is the provi- 
 sion to be made for the support of the persons to whom the 
 Nation shall confide the Administration of the Constitu- 
 tional powers. 
 
 A Nation can have no right to the time and services of 
 any person at his own expence, whom it may chuse to em- 
 ploy or entrust in any department whatever; neither can 
 any reason be given for making provision for the support of 
 any one part of a Government and not for the other. 
 
 But, admitting that the honour of being entrusted with 
 any part of a Government, is to be considered a sufficient 
 reward, it ought to be bo to every person alike. If the 
 Members of the Legislature of any country are to serve at 
 their own expence, that which is called the Executive,
 
 Chap. IV. rights of man. "57 
 
 whether Monarchical, or by any other name, ought to serve 
 in like manner. It is inconsistent to pay the one, and ac- 
 cept the service of the other gratis. 
 
 In America, every department in the Government is 
 decently provided for; but no one is extravagantly paid. 
 Every Member of Congress, and of the Assemblies, is allowed 
 a sufficiency for his expences. Whereas in England, a most 
 prodigal provision is made for the support of one part of tiki 
 Government, and uone for the other, the consequence of 
 which is, that the one is furnished with the means of cor- 
 ruption, and the other is put into the condition of being 
 corrupted. Less than a fourth part of such cxpence, ap- 
 plied as it is in America, would remedy a great part of the 
 corruption. 
 
 Another reform in the American Constitution, is the ex- 
 ploding all oaths of personality. The oath of allegiance in 
 America is to the Nation only. The putting any individual 
 as a figure for a Nation is improper. The happiness of a 
 Nation is the superior object, and therefore the intention of 
 an oath of allegiance ought not to be obscured by being 
 figuiatively taken, to, or in the name of, any person. The 
 oath, called the Civic oath, in France, viz. " the Natiofi, 
 the Law, and the King" is improper. If taken at all, it 
 ought to be as in America, to the Nation only. The law 
 may or may not be good; but, in this place it can have no 
 other meaning, than as being conducive to the happiness of 
 the Nation, and therefore is included in it. The remainder 
 of the oath is improper, on the ground, that all personal 
 oaths ought to be abolished. They are the remains of 
 tyranny on one part, and slavery on the other; and the 
 name of the Citato it ought not to be introduced to wit- 
 uess the degradation of his Creation; or if taken, as is 
 already mentioned, as figurative of the Nation, it is in this 
 place redundant. But whatever apology may be made for 
 oaths at the first establishment of a Government, they ought 
 not to be permitted afterwards. If a Government requires 
 the support of oath, it is a sign that it is not worth sup- 
 porting, and ought not to be supported. Make Government 
 what it ought to be, and it will support itself. 
 
 To conclude this part of the subject : — One of the greatest 
 improvements that has been made for the perpetual security 
 and progress of Constitutional liberty, is the provision 
 which the new Constitutions make for occasionally revisit):', 
 altering, and amending them. 
 The principle upon which Mr. Burke formed hie Poli-
 
 5S , RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 tical Creed, that " of binding and controuling posterity to the 
 end of time, and of renouncing and abdicating the rights of all 
 posterity, for ever," is now become too detestable to make a 
 subject of debate; and therefore, I pass it over with no 
 other notice than exposing it. 
 
 Government is but now beginning to be known. Hither^ 
 to it has been the mere exercise of power, which forbad all 
 effectual enquiry into rights, and grounded itself wholly on 
 possession. While the enemy of liberty was its judge, the 
 progress of its principles must have been small indeed. 
 
 The Constitutions of America, and also that of France, 
 have either affixed a period for their revision, 01 "laid down 
 the mode by which improvements shall be made. It is, 
 perhaps, impossible to establish any thing that combines 
 principles with opinions and practice, which the progress of 
 circumstances, through a length of years, will not in some 
 measure derange, or render inconsistent ; and, therefore, to 
 prevent inconveniences accumulating, till they discourage 
 Reformations or provoke Revolutions, it is best to provide 
 the means of regulating them as they occur. The Rights 
 of Man are ttoe Rights of all generations of Men, and cannot 
 be monopolized by any. That which is worth following, 
 is followed for the sake of its worth; and it is in that its 
 security lies, and not in any conditions with which it may 
 be encumbered. When a man leaves property to his heirs, 
 he does not connect it with an obligation that they shall 
 accept it. Why then should we do otherwise with respect 
 to Constitutions? 
 
 The best Constitution that could now be devised, con- 
 sistent with the condition of the present moment, may be 
 farshort of that excellence which a few years may afford. 
 There is a morning of reason rising upon Man on the sub- 
 ject of Government, that has not appeared before. As the 
 barbarism of the present old Government expires, the moral 
 condition of Nations with respect to each other will be 
 changed. Man will not be brought up with the savage idea 
 of considering his species as his enemy, because the accident 
 of birth gave the individuals existence in countries distin- 
 guished by different names: and as Constitutions have 
 always some relation to external as well as to domestic cir- 
 cumstances, the means of benefiting by every change, foreign 
 or domestic, should be a part of every Constitution. 
 
 We already see an alteration in the National disposition 
 of England and France towards each other, which, when we. 
 look back to only a few years, is itself a Revolution. Who
 
 C'lIAP. IV. RIGHTS OF HAN. 59 
 
 could have foreseen, or who would have believed, that a 
 French National Assembly would ever have been a popular 
 toast in England, or that a friendly alliance of the two 
 Nations should become the wish of either? It shews, that 
 Man, were he not corrupted by Governments, is naturally 
 the friend of Man, and that human nature is not of itself 
 vicious. The spirit of jealousy and ferocity, which the 
 Governments of the two countries inspired, and which they 
 rendered subservient to the purpose of Taxation, is now 
 yielding to the dictates of reason, interest, and humanity. 
 The trade of Courts is beginning to be understood, and the 
 affectation of mystery, with all the artificial sorcery by 
 which they imposed upon mankind, is on the decline. It 
 has received its death- wound ; and though it may linger, it 
 will expire. 
 
 Government ouo;ht to be as much open to improvement 
 as any thing which appertains to Man, instead of which it 
 has been monopolized from age to age, by the most igno- 
 rant and vicious of the human race. Need we any other 
 proof of their wretched management, than the excess of 
 debts and taxes with which every Nation groans, and the 
 quarrels into which they have precipitated the world ? 
 
 Just emerging from such a barbarous condition, it is too 
 soon to determine to what extent of improvement Govern- 
 ment may yet be carried. For what we can foresee, all 
 Europe may forjn but one great Republic," and Man be free 
 of the whole,.
 
 6© RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IV AYS and MEANS of improving the condition of Europe, 
 interspersed with Miscellaneous Observations. 
 
 In contemplating a subject that embraces with equatorial 
 magnitude the whole region of humanity, it is impossible 
 to confine the pursuit in one single direction. It takes 
 ground on every character and condition that appertains to 
 Man, and blends the individual, the Nation, and the world. 
 
 From a small spark, kindled in America, a flame has 
 arisen, not to be extinguished. Without consuming, like 
 the Ultima Ratio Regum, it winds in progress from Nation 
 to Nation, and conquers by a silent operation. Man finds 
 himself changed, he scarcely perceives how. He acquires 
 a knowledge of his Rights by attending justly to his in- 
 terest, and discovers in the event, that the strength and 
 powers of Despotism consist wholly in the fear of resisting 
 it, and that, in order " to be free, it is sufficient that he wills it" 
 
 Having in all the preceding parts of this work endea- 
 voured to establish a system of principles as a basis, on 
 which Governments ought to be erected ; I shall proceed 
 in this, to the ways and means of rendering them into prac- 
 tice. But in order to introduce this part of the subject 
 with more propriety, and stronger effect, some preliminary 
 observations deducible from, or connected with, those prin- 
 ciples are necessary. 
 
 Whatever the form or Constitution of Government may 
 be, it ^ught to have no other object than the general happi- 
 ness. When, instead of this, it operates to create and 
 increase wretchedness in any of the parts of Society, it is a 
 wrong system, and Reformation is necessary. 
 
 Customary language has classed the condition of Man 
 under the two descriptions of civilized and uncivilized life. 
 To the one it has ascribed felicity and affluence; to the 
 other, hardship and want. But however our imagination 
 may be impressed by painting and comparison, it is never-
 
 Chap. V. bights of man. (Jl 
 
 theless true, that a great portion of mankind, in what are 
 called civilized countries, are in a state of poverty and 
 wretchedness, far below the condition of an Indian. I speak 
 not of one country, but of all. It is so in England, it is so> 
 all over Europe. Let us enquire into the cause. 
 
 It lies not in any natural defect in the principles of civi- 
 lization, but in preventing those principles having an uni- 
 Tersal operation ; the consequence of which is, a perpetual 
 system of war and expence, that drains the country, and 
 defeats the general felicity of which civilization is capable. 
 
 All the European Governments (France now excepted) 
 are constructed not on the principle of Universal Civiliza- 
 tion, but on the reverse of it. So far as those Governments 
 relate to each other, they are in the same condition as we. 
 conceive of savage, uncivilized life ; they put themselves 
 beyond the law as well of God as of Man, and are, with 
 respect to principle and reciprocal conduct, like so many- 
 individuals in a state of Nature. 
 
 The inhabitants of every country, under the civilization 
 of laws, easily civilize together, but Governments being yet 
 in an uncivilized state, and almost continually at war, they 
 pervert the abundance which civilized life produces to cany 
 on the uncivilized part to a greater extent. By thus engraft- 
 ing the barbarism of Government upon the internal civiliza- 
 tion of a country, it draws from the latter, and more espe- 
 cially from the poor, a great portion of those earnings, which 
 should be applied to their own subsistence and comfort. — 
 Apart from all reflections of morality and philosophy, it is 
 a melancholy tact, that more than one-fourth of the labouc 
 of mankind is annually consumed by this barbarous 
 system. 
 
 What has served to continue this evil, is the pecuniary- 
 advantage, which all the Governments of Europe have 
 found in keeping up this state of uncivilization. It affords 
 to them pretences for power, and revenue, for which there 
 would be neither occasion nor apology, if the circle of civi- 
 lization were rendered complete. Civil Government alone, 
 or the Government of laws, is not productive of pretences 
 for many taxes; it operates at homej directly under the 
 eye of the country, and precludes the possibility of much 
 imposition. But when the scene is laid in the uncivilized 
 contention of Governments, the field of pretences is en- 
 larged, and the country, being no longer a judge, is open to 
 «very imposition, which Governments please to act. 
 
 Not a thirtieth, icarcely a fortieth, part of the taxes
 
 S2 RIGHTS OF MAN. PaRT H 
 
 which are raised in England are either occasioned by, or 
 applied, to the purposes of Civil Government. It is not difh- 
 cult to see, that the whole which the actual Government 
 does in this respect, is to enact laws, and that the country 
 administers and executes them, at its own expence by 
 means of Magistrates, Juries, Sessions, and Assize, over and 
 abeve the taxes which it pays. 
 
 In this view of the case, we have two distinct characters 
 of Government ; the one the Civil Government of laws, 
 ■which operates at home, the other the Court or Cabinet 
 Government, which operates abroad, on the rude plan of 
 uncivilized life; the one attended with little charge, the 
 other with boundless extravagance; and so distinct are the 
 two, that if the latter were to sink, as it were by a sudden 
 opening of the earth, and totally disappear, the other would 
 not be deranged. It would still proceed, because it is the 
 common interest of the Nation that it should, and all the 
 means are in the practice. 
 
 Revolutions, then, have for their object, a change in the 
 moral condition of Governments, and with this change the 
 burthen of public taxes will lessen, and civilization will be 
 left to the enjoyment of that abundance, of which it is now 
 deprived. 
 
 In contemplating the whole of this subject, I extend my 
 Views into the department of Commerce. In all my pub- 
 lications, where the matter would admit, I have been an ad- 
 vocate for Commerce, because I am a friend to its effects. 
 It is a pacific system, operating to cordialize mankind, by- 
 rendering Nations, as well as individuals, useful to each 
 other. As to mere theoretical Reformation, I have never 
 preached it up. The most effectual process is that of im- 
 proving the condition of Man by means of his interest; and 
 it is on this ground I take my stand. 
 
 If Commerce were permitted to act to the universal 
 extent it is capable, it would extirpate the system of war, 
 and produce a Revolution in the uncivilized state of Govern- 
 ments. The invention of Commerce has arisen since those 
 Governments began, and is the greatest approach towards 
 universal civilization, that has yet been made by any means 
 not immediately flowing from moral principles. 
 
 Whatever has a tendency to promote the civil intercourse 
 of Nations, by an exchange of benefits, is a subject as 
 worthy of Philosophy as Politics. Commerce is no other 
 than the traffic of two individuals, multiplied on a scale of 
 numbers; and by the same rule that nature intended the
 
 Chap. V. rights of man. <J3 
 
 •utercourse of two, she intended that of all. For this pur- 
 pose she has distributed the materials of Manufactures and 
 Commerce, in various and distant parts of a Nation and of the 
 world : and as they cannot be procured by war so cheaply 
 or so coiamodiously as by Commerce, she has rendered the 
 latter the means of extirpating the former. 
 
 As the two are nearly the opposites of each other, conse- 
 quently, the uncivilized state of European Governments is 
 injurious to Commerce. Every kind of destruction or em- 
 barrassment serves to lessen the quantity, and it matters but 
 little in what part of the Commercial world the reduction 
 begins. Like blood, it cannot be taken from any of the 
 parts, without being taken from the whole mass in circula- 
 tion, and all partake of the loss. When the ability in any 
 Nation to buy is destroyed, it equally involves the seller- 
 Could the Government of England destroy the Commerce 
 of all other Nations, she would most effectually ruin her 
 own. I 
 
 It is possible that a Nation may be the carrier for the 
 world, but she cannot be the merchant. She cannot be the 
 seller and the buyer of her own merchandise. The ability 
 to buy must reside out of herself; and, therefore, the pros- 
 perity of any Commercial Nation is regulated by the pros- 
 perity of the rest. If they are poor, she cannot be rich, and 
 her condition, be it what it may, is an index of the height 
 of the Commercial tide in other Nations. 
 
 That the principles of Commerce, and its universal ope- 
 ration may be understood, without understanding the prac- 
 tice, is a position that reason will not deny ; and it is on this 
 ground only that I argue the subject. It is one thing in the 
 counting-house, in the world it is another. With respect to 
 its operation it must necessarily be contemplated as a reci- 
 procal thing; that only one half its powers resides -withia 
 the Nation, and that the whole is as effectually destroyed 
 by destroying the half that resides without, as if the destruc- 
 tion had been committed on that which is within ; for 
 neither can act without the other. 
 
 Z When in the last, as well as in former wars, the Commerce 
 of England sunk, it was because the general quantity was 
 lessened every where : and it now rises, because Commerce 
 is in a rising state in every Nation. If England, at this day, 
 imports and exports more than at any former period, the 
 Nations with which she trades must necessarily do the 
 same; her imports are their exports, and vice versa. 
 There can be no such thing as a Nation flourishing alone
 
 64. BIGHTS OF MAN. PaRT II. 
 
 in Commerce ; she can only participate ; and the destruc- 
 tion of it in any part must necssarily affect all. When, 
 therefore, Governments are at war, ttie attack is made upou 
 the common -stock of Commerce, and the consequence is 
 the same as if each had attacked his own. 
 
 The present increase of Commerce is not to be attributed 
 to Ministers, or to any political contrivances, but to its own 
 Batural operations in consequence of peace. The regular 
 markets had been destroyed, the channels of trade broken 
 up, the high road of the seas infested with robbers of every 
 Nation, and the attention of the world called to other ob- 
 jects. Those interruptions have ceased, and peace has 
 restored the deranged condition of things to their proper 
 order.* 
 
 It is worth remarking, that every Nation reckons the 
 balance of trade in its own favour; and therefore something 
 must be irregular in the common ideas upon this subject. 
 
 The fact, however, is true, according to what is called a 
 balance ; and it is from this cause that Commerce is uni- 
 versally supported. Every Nation feels the advantage, or it 
 ■would abandon the practice: but the deception lies in the 
 mode of making up the accounts, and in attributing what 
 are called profits to a wrong cause. 
 
 Mr. Pitt has sometimes amused himself, by shewing what 
 he called a balance of trade from the Custom-House books. 
 This mode of calculation, not only affords no rule that is 
 true, but one that is false. 
 
 In the first place, Every cargo that departs from tha 
 Custom-House, appears on the books as an export ; and, 
 according to the Custom-House balance, the losses at sea, 
 and by foreign failures, are all reckoned on the side of profit, 
 because they appear as exports. 
 
 Secondly, Because the importation by the smuggling 
 trade does not appear on the Custom-House books, ta 
 arrange against the exports. 
 
 * In America, the increase of Commerce is greater in proportio» 
 than in England. It is, at this time, at least one half more than at 
 any period prior to the Revolution. The greatest number of ves- 
 sels cleared out of the port of Philadelphia, before the commence- 
 ment of the war, was between eight and nine hundred. In the 
 year 1788, the number was upwards of twelve hundred. As th« 
 .State of Pennsylvania is estimated as an eighth part of the United 
 States in population, the whole number n mstls must n«w }*d 
 nearlv tea thousand.
 
 •«i.P. V. RIGHTS OF MAK. 65 
 
 No balance, therefor?, as applying to superior advantages, 
 can be drawn from these documents; and if we examine 
 the natural operation of Commerce, the idea is fallacious ; 
 and if true, would soon he injurious. The great support of 
 Commerce consists in the balance being a level of benetits 
 among all Nations. 
 
 Two merchants of different Nations trading together, will 
 both become rich, and each makes the balance in his own 
 favour ; consequently, they do not get rich out of each 
 other; and it is the same with respect to the Nations in 
 which they reside. The case must be, that each Nation 
 must get rich out of its own means, and increases those 
 riches by something which it procures from another in ex- 
 change. 
 
 If a merchant in England sends an article of English 
 manufacture abroad, which costs him a shilling at home, 
 and imports something which sells for two, he makes a 
 balance of one shiiiing in his own favour: but this is not 
 gained out of the foreign Nation or the foreign merchant, 
 for he also does the same by the article he receives, and 
 neither hat a balance of advantage upon the other. The 
 original value of the two articles in their proper countries 
 were but two shillings; but by changing their places, they 
 acquire a new idea of value, equal to double what they had 
 at iirst, and that increased value is equally divided. 
 
 There is no otheru ise a balance on foreign than on do- 
 mestic Commerce. The merchants of London and New- 
 castle trade on the same principles, as if they resided in 
 different Nations, and make their balances in the same 
 manner: yet London does not get rich out of Newcastle, 
 any more than Newcastle out of London ; but coals, the 
 merchandize of Newcastle, have an additional value at Lon- 
 don, and London merchandize has the same at Newcastle. 
 
 Though the principle of ail commerce is the same, the 
 domestic, in a National view, is the part the most bene- 
 ficial; because the whole of the advantages, on both sides, 
 rests within the Nation; whereas, in foreign Commerce, it 
 is only a participation of one half. 
 
 The most unprofitable ol all Commerce is that connected 
 with foreign dominion. To a few individuals it may be 
 beneficial, merely because it is Commerce ; but to the 
 Nation it is a loss. The expence of maintaining dominion 
 more than absorbs the profits of any trade. It does not 
 increase the general quantity in the world, but operate* to 
 lessen it j and a greater mass would be afloat by retf-quiah-
 
 66 rights of max". Part II. 
 
 ing dominion, the participation without the expence would 
 be more valuable than a greater quantity with it. 
 
 But it is impossible to engross Commerce by dominion ; 
 and therefore it is still more fallacious. It cannot exist in 
 -confined channels, and necessarily breaks out by regular 
 or irregular means, that defeat the attempt ; and to succeed 
 •would be still worse. France, since the Revolution, has 
 been more than indifferent as to foreign possessions; and 
 other Nations will become the same, when they investigate 
 the subject with respect to Commerce. 
 
 To the expence of dominion is to be added that of Navies, 
 and when the amount of the two are subtracted from the 
 profits of Commerce, it will appear, that what is called the 
 balance of trade, even admitting it to exist, is not enjoyed 
 "by the Nation, but absorbed by the Government. 
 
 The idea of having Navies for the protection of Com- 
 merce is delusive. It is putting the means of destruction 
 for the means of protection. Commerce needs no other 
 protection than the reciprocal interest which every Nation 
 feels in supporting it — it is common stock — it exists by a 
 balance of advantages to all ; and the only interruption it 
 meets, is from the present uncivilized state of Governments, 
 and which it is its common interest to Reform.* 
 
 Quitting this subject, I now proceed to other matters. — 
 As it is necessary to include England in the prospect of a 
 general Reformation, it is proper to enquire into the defects 
 of its Government. It is only by each Nation Reforming 
 its own, that the whole can be improved, and the full benefit 
 of Reformation enjoyed. Only partial advantages can flow 
 from partial Reforms. 
 
 France and England are the only two countries in Europe 
 ■where a Reformation in Government could have successfully 
 begun. The one secure by the ocean, and the other by the 
 immensity of it3 internal strength, could defy the malignity 
 of foreign despotism. But it is with Revolutions as with 
 Commerce, the advantages increase by their becoming gene- 
 Tal, and double to either what each would receive alone. 
 
 * When I saw Mr. Pitt's mode of estimating the balance of trade, 
 in one of his Parliamentary speeches, he appeared to tne to know 
 nothing of the nature and interest of Commerce; and no Man has 
 more wantonly tortured it than himself. During a period of peace, 
 it has been- havocked with the calamities of war. Three times ha* 
 it v,een thrown into stagnation, and the vessels unmanned by ini- 
 pressu?, withiu less than four years of pence,
 
 Chap. V. rights of man. 07 
 
 As a new system is now opening to the view of the world, 
 the European Courts are plotting to counteract it. Alli- 
 ances, contrary to all former systems, are agitating, and a 
 common interest of Courts is forming against the common 
 interest of Man. This combination draws a line that runs 
 throughout Europe, and presents a cause entirely new, as 
 to exclude all calculations from former circumstances. 
 While Despotism warred with Despotism, Man had no 
 interest in the contest; but in a cause that unites the 
 Soldier with the Citizen, and Nation with Nation, the 
 Despotism of Courts, though it feels the danger, and medi- 
 tates revenge, is afraid to strike. 
 
 No question has arisen within the records of History that 
 pressed with the importance of the present. It is not 
 whether this or that party shall be in or not, or Whig or 
 Tory, or high or low shall prevail ; but whether Man shall 
 inherit his Rights, and universal civilization take place ? 
 Whether the fruits of his labours shall be enjoyed by him- 
 self, or consumed by the profligacy of Governments? 
 Whether robbery shall be banished from Courts, and 
 wretchedness from Countries? 
 
 When, in countries that are called civilized, we see age 
 going to the workhouse and youth to the gallows, some- 
 thing must be wrong in the system of Government. It 
 would seem, by the exteiior appearance of such countries, 
 that all was happiness; but there lies hidden from the. eye 
 of common observation, a mass of wretchedness that lias 
 scarcely any other chance, than to expire in poverty or 
 infamy. Its entrance into life is marked with the presage of 
 its fate ; and until this is remedied, it is in vain to punish. 
 
 Civil Government does not consist in axecutions; but in 
 making that provision for the instruction of youth, and the 
 support of age, as to exclude, as much as possible, profli- 
 gacy from the one, and despair from the other. Instead of 
 this, the resources of a country are lavished upon Kings, 
 upon Courts, upon Hirelings, Impostors, and Prostitutes; 
 and even the poor themselves, with all their wants upon 
 them, are compelled to support the fraud that oppresses 
 them. 
 
 Why is it, that scarcely any are executed but the poor? 
 The fact is a proof, among other things, of a wretchedness 
 in their condition. Bred up without morals, and cast upon 
 the world without a prospect, they are the exposed sacrilice 
 of vice and legal barbarity. The Millions that are super- 
 fluously wasted upon Governments, are more than sufficieat
 
 68 xights or man. Part II. 
 
 to reform those evils, and to benefit the condition of every 
 jMan in a Nation, not included within the purlieus of a 
 Court. This I hope to make appear in the progress of 
 this work. 
 
 It is the nature of compassion to associate with misfor- 
 tune. In taking up this subject I seek no recompence- — I 
 fear no consequence. Fortified with that proud integrity, 
 that disdains to triumph or to yield, I will advocate the 
 Rights of Man. 
 
 It is to tny advantage that I have served an apprentice- 
 ship to life. I know the value of moral instruction, and I 
 Jiave seen the danger of the contrary. 
 
 At an early period, little more than sixteen years of age, 
 jaw and adventurous, and heated with the false heroism of 
 a master,* who had served in a man of war, I began the 
 career of my own fortune, and entered on board the Terrible, 
 Privateer, Captain Death. From this adventure I was hap- 
 pily prevented by the affectionate and moral remonstrance 
 of a good father, who, from his own habits of life, being of 
 the Quaker profession, must begin to look upon me a* lost. 
 But the impression, much as it affected at the time, began 
 to wear away, and I entered afterwards in the King of 
 Prussia Privateer, Capt. Mendez, and went with her to sea. 
 Yet, from such a beginning, and with all the inconvenience 
 of early life against me, I am proud to say, that with a per- 
 severance undismayed by difficulties, a disinterestedness 
 that compelled respect, I have not only contributed to raise 
 a new Empire in the world, founded on a new system of 
 Government, but I have arrived at an eminence in political 
 literature, the most difficult of all lines to succeed and excel 
 in, which Aristocracy, with all its aids, has not been able to 
 reach or to rival. 
 
 Knowing my own heart, and feeling myself, as I now do, 
 superior to all the skirmish of party, the inveteracy of in- 
 terested or mistaken opponents, I answer not to falsehood 
 or abuse, but proceed to the defects of the English Govern- 
 ment.f , 
 
 * Rev. William Knowles, master of the grammar school of Thet- 
 ford, in Norfolk. 
 
 f Politics and 6elf-interest have been so uniformly connected, 
 that the world, from being so often deceived, has a right to be sus- 
 picious of public characters: but with regard to myself, I am 
 perfectly easy on this bead. I did not, at my first setting out in
 
 Chap. V. bights of man. €9 
 
 I begin with Charters and Corporations. 
 It is a perversion of terms to say, that a Charter gives 
 Rights. It operates by a contrary effect, that of taking 
 
 public life, nearly seventeen years ago, turn my thoughts to sub- 
 jects of Government from motives of interest ; and my conduct 
 from that moment to this, proves the fact. I saw an opportunity, 
 in which I thought 1 could do some good, and I followed exactly 
 what my heart dictated. I neither read hooks, nor studied other 
 peope's opinions. I thought for myself. The case was this : 
 
 During ihe suspension of the old Governments in America, both 
 prior to, and at the breaking out of hostilities, I was struck with 
 the order and decorum with which every thiug was conducted ; 
 and impressed with the idea, that a little more th;«n what society 
 naturady performed, was all the Government that was necessary; 
 and that Monarchy and Aristocracy were tVau :s and impositions 
 upon mankind. On these principles I published the pamphlet 
 Common Stnse. The success it met with was beyond any thing 
 since the invention of printing. I gave the copy-right to every 
 State in the Union, and the demand ran to not less than one hun- 
 dred thousand copies. I continued the subject in the same manner, 
 under the title of the Crisis, till the complete establishment of the 
 Revolution. 
 
 After the Declaration of Independence, Congress unanimously, 
 and uuki.own to me, appointed me Secretary in the foreign depart- 
 ment. This was agreeable to me, because it gave me the oppor- 
 tunity of seeing into the abilities of foreign Courts, and their 
 manner of doing business. But a misunderstanding arising 
 be' ween Congress and me, respecting one of their Commissioners 
 then in Europe, Mr. Silas Deane, I resigned the office, and declined, 
 at the same time, the pecuniary offers made by the Ministers of 
 France and Spain, M. Gerard and Don Juan Mirralles. 
 
 I had by this time so completely gained the ear and confidence 
 of America, and my own Independence was become so visible as 
 to give me a range in political writing, beyond, perhaps, what any 
 man ever possessed in any country ; and what is more extraordi- 
 nary, I held it undiminished to the end of the war, and enjoy it in 
 the same manner to the present moment. As my object was not 
 myself, I set out with the determination, and happily with the dis- 
 position, of not being moved by praise or censure, friendship or 
 calumny, nor of being drawn from my purpose by any personal 
 altercation ; and the Man who cannot do this, is not fit for a public 
 character. 
 
 When the war ended, I went from Philadelphia to Borden-Town, 
 on the east bank of the Delaware, where I have a small place. 
 Congress was at this time a. Prince-Town, fifteen miles distant; 
 and General Washington had taken his head-quarters at Rocky- 
 Hill, within the neighbourhood of Congress, tor the purpose of
 
 70 RIGHTS OF MAN". PART IT; 
 
 Rights away. Rights are inherently in all the inhabitants ; 
 but Charters, by annulling those rights in the majority, 
 leave the right by exclusion in the hands of a few. If 
 
 resigning up his commission, (the object for which he accepted it 
 being accomplished,) and of retiring to private lift?. While he was 
 on this business, he wrote me the letter which 1 here subjoin. 
 
 Rocky-Hill, Sept. 10, 1783. 
 I have learned since I have been at this place, that you are at 
 Bordeu-Town. Whether for the sake of retirement or economy, 
 I now not, Be it for either, for both, or whatever it may, if you 
 will come to this place, and partake with me, I shall be exceedingly 
 happy to see you at it. 
 
 Your presence may remind Congress of your past services to this 
 country ; and if it is in my power to impress them, command my 
 best exertions with freedom, as they*vill be renderedjcheerfully by 
 one who entertains a lively sense of the importance of your works, 
 and who, with much pleasure, subscribes himself, 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 G. WASHINGTON. 
 
 During the war, in the latter end of the year 1780, I formed to 
 myself a design of coming over to England ; and communicated it 
 to General Greene, who was then in Philadelphia, on his route to 
 the southward, General Washington being then at too great a dis- 
 tance to communicate with immediately. I was strongly impressed 
 with the idea, that if I could get over to England, without being 
 known, and only remain in safety till I could get out a publication, 
 that I could open the eyes of the country with respect to the mad- 
 ness and stupidity of its Government. I saw that the parties in 
 Parliament had pitted themselves as far as they could go, and 
 could make no new impressions on each other. General Greene 
 entered fully into my views; but the affair of Arnold and Andre 
 happening just after, he changed his mind, and under strong- 
 apprehensions for my safety, wrote very pressingly to me from 
 Annapolis, in Maryland, to give up the design, which, with some 
 Teluctance, I did. Soon after this I accompanied Col. Lawrens, 
 son of Mr. Lawrens, who was then in the Tower, to Frame, on 
 business from Congress. We landed at L'Orient; and while I 
 remained there, he being gone forward, a,circumstance occurred, 
 that renewed my former desipn. An English packet from Fal- 
 mouth to New York, with the Government dispatches on board, 
 •was brought into L'Oritnt. That a packet should be taken, is no 
 extraordinary thing; but that the despatches should be taken with 
 it, will scarcely be credited, as they are always slung at the cabin 
 window, in a bair loaded with cannon-ball, and ready to be- sunk 
 at a moment. The fact, however, is as I have stated it, for the
 
 Chap. V. iiohts op man. 71 
 
 Charters were constructed so as to express in direct terms, 
 •* that every inhabitant, who is not a Member of a Corporation, 
 shall not exercise the Right of voting" such Charters would, 
 in the face, be Charters, not of Rights, but of exclusion. 
 The effect is the same under the form they now stand ; and 
 the only persons on whom they operate, are the persons 
 whom they exclude. Those whose Rights are guaranteed, 
 by not being taken away, exercise no other Rights, than as 
 members of the community they are entitled to without a 
 Charter; and, therefore, all Charters have no other than an 
 indirect negative operation. They do not give rights to 
 A, but they make a difference in favour of A by taking 
 away the right of B, and consequently are instruments of 
 injustice. 
 
 But Charters and Corporations have a more extensive evil 
 effect, than what relates merely to elections. They are 
 sources of endless contentions in the places where they ex- 
 ist; and they lessen the common Rights of National so- 
 ciety. A native of England, under the operation of these 
 Charters and Corporations, cannot be said to be an English- 
 man iu the full sense of the word. He is not free of the Na- 
 tion, in the same manner that a Frenchman is free of 
 France, and an American of America. His rights are cir- 
 cumscribed to the town, and, in some cases, to the parish 
 of his birth; and all other parts, though in his native land, 
 
 despatches came into my hands, and I read them. The capture, 
 as I was informed, succeeded by the following stratagem : — The 
 Captain of the Madame privateer, who spoke English, on coming 
 up with the packet, passed himself for the captain of an English 
 frigate, and invited the captain of the packet on board*; which, 
 when done, he sent some of his own hands back, and secured the 
 mail. But, be the circumstance of the capture what it may, I 
 epeak with certainty as to the Government despatches. They 
 were sent up to Paris, to Count Vergennes. and when Colonel 
 Lawrens and myself returned to America, wc took the originals to 
 Congress. 
 
 By these dispatches I saw into the stupidity of the English 
 Cabinet, far more than I otherwise could have done, and I renewed 
 my former design. But Col. Lawrens was so unwilling to return 
 alone ; more especially, as among other matters, we had a charge 
 of upwards of two hundred thousand pounds sterling in money, 
 that I gave up to his wishes, and finally gave up my plan. But I 
 *m now certain, that if I could have executed it, it would not have 
 been altogether un§uccessful.
 
 72 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 are to him as a foreign country. To acquire a residence in 
 these, he must undergo a local naturalization by purchase, 
 or he is forbidden or expelled the place. This species of 
 feudality is kept up to aggrandize the corporations at the 
 ruin of towns; and the effect is visible. 
 
 The generality of Corporation towns are in a 6tate of so- 
 litary decay, and prevented from further ruin, only by some 
 circumstance in their situation, such as a navigable river, 
 or a plentiful surrounding country. As population is one 
 of the chief sources of wealth, (for without it land itself has 
 no value,) every thing which operates to prevent it must 
 lessen the value of property ; and as Corporations have not 
 only this tendency, but directly this effect, they cannot but 
 be injurious. If any policy were to be followed, instead of 
 that of general freedom to every person to settle where he 
 chose, (as in France or America,) it would be more consis- 
 tent to give encouragement to new comers, than to preclude 
 their admission by exacting premiums from them*. 
 
 The persons most immediately interested in the abolition 
 of Corporations, are the inhabitants of the towns where 
 Corporations, are established. The instances of Manchester, 
 Birmingham, and Sheffield, shew, by contrast, the injury 
 ■which those Gothic Institutitutions are to property and 
 commerce. A few examples may be found, such as that 
 of London, whose natural and commercial advantage, ow- 
 ing to its situation on the Thames, is capable of bearing up 
 against the political evils of a Corporation ; but in almost 
 all other cases the fatality is too visible to be doubted or 
 denied. 
 
 -* It is difficult to account for the origin of Charter and Corpo- 
 ration towns, unless we suppose them to have arisen out of, or been 
 connected with, some species of garrison service. The times in 
 which they began justify this idea. The generality of those towns 
 have been garrisons ; and the Corporations were charged with the 
 care of the gates of the towns, when no military garrison \vas pre- 
 sent. Their refusing or granting admission to strangers, which has 
 produced the customs of giving, selling and buying freedom, has 
 more of the nature of garrison authority than Civil government. 
 Soldiers are free of all Corporations throughout the Nation, by the 
 same propriety that every soldier is free of every garrison, and no 
 other persons are. He can follow any employment:, with the per- 
 mission of his officers, in any Corporation town throughout the 
 Nation. . -
 
 Chap. V. rights of man. 73 
 
 Though the whole Nation is not so directly affected by 
 the depression oi property in Corporation towns as the in- 
 habitants themselves, it partakes of the consequence. By 
 lessening the value of property, the quantity of National 
 commerce is curtailed. Every Man is a customer in propor- 
 tion to his ability ; and as all parts of a Nation trade with 
 each other, whatever affects any of the parts, must neces- 
 sarily communicate to the whole. 
 
 As one of the Houses of the English Parliament is, in a 
 great measure, made up of elections from these Corpora- 
 tions; and as it is unnatural that a pure stream should flow 
 from a foul fountain, its vices are but a continuation of the 
 vices of its origin. A Man of moral honour and good poli- 
 tical principles, cannot submit to the mean drudgery and 
 disgraceful arts, by which such elections are carried. To 
 be a successful candidate, he must be destitute of the qua- 
 lities that constitute a just legislator, and being thus disci- 
 plined to corruption by the mode of entering into Parlia* 
 ment, it is nut to be expected that the Representative should 
 be better than the Man. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in speaking of the English Representation, has 
 advanced as bold a challenge as ever was given in the days 
 of Chivalry. " Our Representation," says he, " has been 
 found perfectly adequate to aft the purposes for which a Repre- 
 sentation of the People can be desired or devised. I defy," 
 continues he, " the enemies of our Constitution to shew the 
 contrary." 
 
 This declaration from a Man who has been in constant 
 opposition to all the measures in Parliament the whole of 
 bis political life, a year or two excepted, is most extraordi- 
 nary ; and, comparing him with himself, admits of no other 
 alternative, than that he acted against his judgment as a 
 Member, or has declared contrary to it as an Author. 
 
 But it is not in the Representation only that defects lie, 
 and therefore I proceed in the next place to the Aristocracy. 
 
 What is called the House of Peers, is constituted on a 
 ground very similar to that, against which there is a law in 
 other cases. It amounts to a combination of persons in one 
 common interest. No reason can be given, why an House 
 of Legislation should be composed entirely of men whose 
 occupation consists in letting landed property, than why it 
 should be composed of those who hire, or of brewers, or 
 bakers, or any other separate class of men. 
 
 Mr. Burke calls this House," the great ground and pillar 
 of security to the landed interest." Let us examine this idea.
 
 74 * RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 What pillar of security does the landed interest require 
 more than any other interest in the State, or what right has 
 it to a distinct and separate Representation from the general 
 interest of a Nation? The only use to be made of this 
 power, (and which it has always made,) is to ward off 
 taxes from itself, and throw the burthen upon such articles 
 of consumption by which itself would be least affected. 
 
 That this has been the consequence, (and will always be 
 the consequence of constructing Governments on combina- 
 tions,) is evident with respect to England, from the history 
 of its taxes. 
 
 Notwithstanding taxes have encreased and multiplied 
 upon every article of common consumption, the land-tax, 
 which more particularly affects this " pillar," has diminish- 
 ed. In 1788, the amount of the land-tax was o£l,950,000, 
 which is half a million less than it produced almost an hun- 
 dred years ago*, notwithstanding the rentals are in many 
 instances doubled since that period. 
 
 Before the coming of the Hanoverians, the taxes were di- 
 vided in nearly equal proportions between the land and ar- 
 ticles of consumption, the land bearing rather the largest 
 share: but since that era, nearly thirteen millions annually 
 of new taxes have been thrown upon consumption. The 
 consequence of which has been a constant increase in the 
 number and wretchedness of the poor, and in the amount of 
 the poor-rates. Yet here again the burthen does not fall in 
 equal proportions on the Aristocracy with the rest of the 
 community. Their residences, whether in town or country, 
 are not mixed with the habitations of the poor. They live 
 apart from distress, and the ex pence of relieving it. It is in 
 manufacturing towns and labouring villages that those bur- 
 thens press the heaviest ; in many of which it is one class of 
 poor supporting another. 
 
 Several of the most heavy and productive taxes are 60 
 contrived, as to give an exemption to this Pillar, thus stand- 
 ing in in its own defence. The tax upon beer brewed for 
 sale does not aflect the Aristocracy, who brew their own 
 beer free of this duty. It falls only on those who have not 
 cohveniency or ability to brew, and who must purchase it in 
 small quantities. But what will mankind think of the jus- 
 tice of taxation, when they know, that this tax alone, from 
 
 , * See Sir John Sinclair's History of the Revenue. The land-tax 
 in 1646 was $2,473,499.
 
 Chap. V. bights or man. 7^ 
 
 which the Aristocracy are from circumstances exempt, is 
 nearly equal to the whole of the land-tax, being in tlteyear 
 1788, and it is not less now than i01 ,666,1 32, and with its 
 proportion of the taxes on malt and hops, it exceeds it. — That 
 a single article, thus partially consumed, and that chiefly by 
 the working part, should be subject to a tax, equal to that 
 on the whole rental of a Nation, is, perhaps, a fact not to be 
 paralleled in the Histories of Retenues. 
 
 This is one of the consequences resulting from an House 
 of Legislation, composed on the ground of a combination of 
 common interest; for whatever their separate politics as to 
 parties may be, in this they are united. Whether a com- 
 bination acts to raise the price of any article for sale, or the 
 rate of wages ; or whether it acts to throw taxes from itself 
 upon another class of the community, the principle and the 
 effect are the 6ame; and if the one be illegal, it will be dif- 
 ficult to shew that the other ought to exist. 
 
 It is no use to say, that taxes are first proposed in the 
 House of Commons; for as the other House has always a 
 negative, it cart always defend itself; and it would be ridi- 
 culous to suppose that its acquiescence in the measures to 
 be proposed were not understood before hand. Besides 
 which, it has obtained so much influence by Borough-traffic, 
 and so many of its relations and connections are distributed 
 on both sides of the Commons, as to give it, besides an abso- 
 lute negative in one House, a preponderancy in the other, in 
 all matters of common concern. 
 
 It is difficult to discover what is meant by the landed 
 interest , if it does not mean a combination of Aristocratical 
 land-holders, opposing their own pecuniary interest to that 
 of the farmer, and every branch of trade, commerce, and ma- 
 nufacture. In all other respects it is the only interest that 
 needs no partial protection. • It enjoys the general protec- 
 tion of the world. Every individual, high or low, is in- 
 terested in the fruits of the earth; men, women, and chil- 
 dren, of all ages and degrees, will turn out to assist the 
 farmer, rather than a harvest should not be got in; and 
 they will not act thus by any other property. It is theonlv 
 one for which the common prayer of mankind is put up, and 
 the only one that can never fail from the want of means. It 
 is the interest, not of the policy, but of the existence of man, 
 < and when it ceases, he must cease to be. 
 
 No other interest in a Nation stands on the same united 
 support. Commerce, manufactures, arts, sciences, and 
 every thing else, compared with this, are supported but in
 
 TO BIGHTS or MAN. PART II. 
 
 parts. Their prosperity or their decay has not the same 
 universal influence. When the vallies laugh and sing, it is 
 not the farmer only, but all creation that rejoice. It is a 
 prosperity that excludes all envy; and this cannot be said 
 of any thing else. 
 
 Why then does Mr. Burke talk of this House of Peers, as 
 the pillar of the landed interest? Were that pillar to sink 
 into the earth, the same landed property would continue, 
 and the same ploughing, sowing, and reaping would go on. 
 The Aristocracy are not the farmers who work the land, 
 and raise the produce, but are the mere consumers of the 
 rent; and when compared with the active world are the 
 droues, a seraglio of males, who neither collect the honey 
 nor form the hive, but exist only for lazy enjoyment. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in his First Essay, called Aristocracy, " the 
 Corinthian capital of polished society." Towards completing 
 the figure, he has now added the pillar ; but still the base 
 is wanting ; and whenever a Nation chuses to act a Sampson, 
 not blind, but bold, down go the Temple of Dagon, the 
 Lords, and the Philistines. 
 
 If a House of Legislation is to be composed of men of one 
 class, for the purpose of protecting a distinct interest, all 
 the other interests should have the same. The inequa- 
 lity, as well as the burthen of taxation, arises from admitting 
 it in one case, and not in all. Had there been an House 
 of Farmers, there had been no game laws; or an House 
 of Merchants and Manufacturers, the taxes had neither been 
 so unequal nor so excessive. It is from the power of tax- 
 ation being in the hands of those who cau throw so great a 
 part of it from their own shoulders, that it has ragtd without 
 a check. 
 
 Men of small or moderate estates are more injured by the 
 taxes being thrown on articles of consumption, than they 
 are eased by warding it from landed property, for the follow- 
 ing reasons : 
 
 First, They consume more of the productive taxable 
 articles, in proportion to their property, than those of large 
 estates. 
 
 Secondly, Their residence is chiefly in towns, and their 
 property in houses; and the encrease of the poor- rales, oc- 
 casioned by taxes on consumption, is in much greater pro- 
 portion than the land-tax has been favoured. In Birming- 
 ham, the poor-rates are not less than seven shillings in the 
 pound. From this, as already observed^ the Aristocracy 
 are in a great measure exempt.
 
 Chap. V. sights of max. 77 
 
 These are but a part of the mischiefs flowing from the 
 wretched scheme of an House of Peers. 
 
 As a combination, it can always throw a considerable 
 portion of taxes from itself; and as an hereditary House, 
 accountable to nobody, it resembles a rotten borough, 
 whose consent is to be courted, by interest. There are but 
 few of its Members, who are not in some mode or other par- 
 ticipators, or disposers of the public money. One turns a 
 candle-holder, or a lord in waiting; another a lord of the 
 bed-chamber, a groom of the stole, or any insignificant no- 
 minal office, to which a salary is annexed, paid out of the 
 public taxes, and which avoids the direct appearance of 
 corruption. Such situations are derogatory to the character 
 of Man ; and where they can be submitted to, honour 
 cannot reside. 
 
 To ail these are to be added the numerous dependants, 
 the long list of younger branches and distant relations, who 
 are provided for at the public expence: in short, were art 
 estimation to be made of the charges of Aristocracy to a 
 Nation, it would be found nearly equal to that of supporting 
 the poor. The Duke of Richmond alone (and there are cases 
 similar to his) takes away as much for himself as would 
 maintain two thousand poor and aged persons. Is it, then, 
 any wonder, that under such a system of Government, taxes 
 and rates have multiplied to their present extent? 
 
 In stating these matters, I speak an open and disinterested 
 language, dictated by no passion but that of humanity. To 
 me, who have not only refused otters, because I thought 
 them improper, but have declined rewards I might with re- 
 putation have accepted, it is no wonder that meanness and 
 imposition appear disgustful. Independence is my happi- 
 ness, and I view things as they are, without regard to place 
 or person ; my country is the world, and my religion is to do 
 good. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in speaking of the Aristocratical law of pri- 
 mogeniture, says, " it is the standing la-W of our landed in- 
 heritance ; and " which, without question, has a tendency, 
 and I think," continues he, " a happy tendency, to preserve 
 a character pf weight and consequence." 
 
 Mr. Burke may call this law what he pkases, but huma- 
 nity and impartial reflection will denounce it a law of brutal 
 injustice. Were we not accustomed to the daily practice, 
 and did we only hear of it as the law of some distant part of 
 the world, we should conclude that the legislators of such 
 countries had not yet arrived at a state of civilization.
 
 78 RIGHTS OF MAS. Part II, 
 
 As to its preserving a character of weight andconsequence,, 
 the case appears to me directly the reverse. It is an attaint 
 upon character; a sort of privateering on family property. 
 It may have weight among dependant tenants, but it gives 
 none on a scale of National, and much less of Universal cha- 
 racter. Speaking for myself, my parents were not able to 
 give me a shilling, beyond what they gave me in education; 
 and to do this they distressed themselves: yet, I possess 
 more of what is called consequence, in the world, than any 
 one in Mr. Burke's catalogue of Aristocrats. 
 
 Having thus glanced at some of the defects of the two 
 Houses of Parliament, I proceed to what is called theCrown, 
 upon which I shall be very concise. 
 
 It signifies a nominal othceofa million sterling a year, 
 the business of which consists in receiving the money. Whe- 
 ther the person be wise or foolish, sane or insane, a native 
 or a foreigner, matters not. Every Ministry acts upon the 
 same idea, that Mr. Burke writes, namely, that the people 
 must be hoodwinked, and held in superstitious ignorance 
 by some bugbear or other; and what is called the Crown 
 answers this purpose, and therefore it answers all the pur- 
 poses to be expected from it. This is more than can be said 
 of the other two branches. The hazard to which this olhce 
 is exposed in all countries, is not from any thing that can 
 happen to the Man, but from what may happen to the Na- 
 tion — the danger of its coming to its senses. 
 
 It has been customary to call the crown the executive 
 power, and the custom is contiuued, though the reason hag 
 ceased. 
 
 It was called the executive, because the person whom it 
 signified used, formerly, to sit in the character of a judge, 
 in administering or executing the laws. The tribunal were 
 then a part of the Court. The power, therefore, which n 
 now called the judicial, is what was called the executive; 
 and, consequently, one or other of the terms is redundant, 
 and one of the offices useless. When we tpeak of the crown 
 now, it means nothing; it signifies neither a judge nor a 
 general : besides which, it is the Laws that govern, and not 
 the Man. The old terms are kept up, to give an appearance 
 of consequence to empty forms: and the only effect they 
 have is that of increasing ex pences. 
 
 Before I proceed to the means of rendering Governments 
 more conducive to the general happiness of mankind, than 
 they are at present, it will not be improper to take a review 
 •f the progress of taxation in England,
 
 Chap. V. rights of man. 79 
 
 It is a general idea, that when taxes are once laid on, 
 they are never taken off". However true this may hare been 
 of late, it was not always so. Either, therefore, the people 
 of former times were more watchful over Government than 
 those of the present, or Government was administered with, 
 less extravagance. 
 
 It is now seven hundred years since the Norman con- 
 quest, and the establishment of what is called the crown. 
 Taking this portion of time in seven separate periods of one 
 hundred years each, the amount of the annual taxes, at each, 
 period, will be as follows: — 
 
 Annual amount of taxes levied by William the 
 
 Conqueror, beginning in the year 1066 - ,£400,000 
 Annual amount of taxes at one hundred years from 
 
 the conquest, (1166) - - 200,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at two hundred years from 
 
 the conquest, ( 1 266) - 150,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at three hundred years 
 
 from the conquest, (1366) - - 130,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at four hundred years 
 
 from the conquest, (1466) - - 100,000 
 
 These statements, and those which follow, are taken from. 
 Sir John Sinclair's History of the Revenue; by which it 
 appears, that taxes continued decreasing for four hundred 
 years, at the expiration of which time they were reduced 
 three-fourths, viz. from four hundred thousand pounds to 
 one hundred thousand. The people of England of the pre- 
 sent day, have a traditionary and historical idea of the 
 bravery of their ancestors; but whatever their virtues or 
 their vices might have been, they certainly were a people 
 who would not be imposed upon, and who kept Govern- 
 ment in awe as to taxation, if not as to principle. Though 
 they were not able to expel the Monarchical usurpation, 
 they restricted it to a republican economy of taxes. 
 
 Let us now review the remaining three hundred year9. 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at five hundred years from 
 
 the conquest, (1566) - - .£500,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at six hundred years from 
 
 the conquest, (1666) - - 1,800,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at the present time, 
 (1791) - - - 17,000,000 
 
 The difference between the first four hundred years and 
 the last three, is so astonishing, as to >varrant an opinion,
 
 SG Rl«UTS Off MAN. PaUT II 
 
 that the National character of the English has changed. It 
 •would liave been impossible to have dragooned the former 
 English, into the excess of taxation that now exists; and 
 when it is considered that the pay of the army, the navy, 
 and of all the revenue officers, is the same now as it was 
 above a hundred years ago, when the taxes were not above 
 a tenth part of what they are at present, it appears impos- 
 sible to account for the enormous increase and expenditure, 
 on any other ground, than extravagance, corruption, and 
 intrigue*. 
 
 * Several of the Court newspapers have of late made frequent 
 mention of Wat Tyler. That his memory should be traduced by 
 Court sycophants, and all those who live on the spoil of a public, 
 is not to be wondered at. He was, however, the means of check- 
 ing the rage and injustice of taxation in his time, and the Nation 
 owed much to his valour. The history is concisely this: — In the 
 time of Richard the second, a poll-tax was levied, of one shilling 
 per head, upon every person in the Nation, of whatever estate or 
 condition, on poor as well as rich, above the age of fifteen years. 
 3f any favour was shewn in the law, it was to the rich rather than 
 to the poor; as no person should be charged more than twenty 
 shillings for himself, family, and servants, though ever so nume- 
 rous; while all other families, under the number of twenty, were 
 charged per head. Poll-taxes had always been odious ; but this 
 being also oppressive and unjust, it excited, as it naturally must, 
 universal detestation among the poor and middle classes. The 
 person known by the name of Wat Tyler, whose proper name was 
 Walter, and a tyler by trade, lived at Deptford. The gatherer 
 of the poll-tax, on coming to his house, demanded tax for one of 
 bis daughters, whom Tyler declared wa9 under the age of fifteen. 
 The tax-gatherer insisted on satisfying himself, and began an in- 
 decent examination of the girl, which enraging the father, he 
 struck him with a hammer, that brought him to the ground, and 
 was the l cause of his death. 
 
 This circumstance served to bring the discontents to an issue. 
 The inhabitants of the neighbourhood espoused the cause of Tyler, 
 who in a few days was joined, according to some histories, by up- 
 wards of fifty thousand men, and chosen their chief. With thi« 
 force he u arched to London, to demand an abolition of the tax, 
 and a redress of other grievances. The Court, finding itself in, a 
 forlorn condition, and unable to make resistance, agreed, with 
 Richard at its head, to hold a conference with Tyler in Smithrield, 
 making many fair professions, Coui tier-like, of its disposition to 
 redress the oppressions. While Richard and Tyler were in con- 
 versation on these matters, each being on horseback, Walworth 
 then Mayor of London, and one of ihe creatures of the Court, 
 watched an opportunity, and, [ike a cowardly .assassin, stabbed
 
 €iIAp. V. RIGHTS OF MAX. 8J 
 
 With the Revolution of 169S, and more so since the 
 Hanover succession, came the destructive system of conti- 
 nental intrigues, and the rage for foreign wars and foreign 
 dominion ; systems of such secure mystery that the expenees 
 admit of no accounts; a single line stands for millions. To 
 what excess taxation might have extended, had not the 
 French It. -volution contributed to break up the system, and 
 put an end to pretences, is impossible to say. Viewed, as 
 tiiat Revolution ought to be, as the fortunate means ofles- 
 sening the load of taxes of both countries, it is of as much 
 importance to England as to France; and, if properly im- 
 proved to all the advantages of which it is capable, and to 
 which it leads, deserves as much celebration in one country 
 as the other. 
 
 In pursuing this subject, I shall begin with the matter 
 that first presents itself, that of lessening the burthen of 
 taxes; and shall then add such matters and propositions, 
 respecting the three countries of England, France, and Ame- 
 rica, as the present prospect of things appears to justify: I 
 mean, an alliance of the three, for the purposes that will be 
 mentioned in their proper place. 
 
 What has happened may happen again. By the state- 
 ment before shewn of the progress of taxation, it is seen, 
 that taxes have been lessened to a fourth part of what they 
 had formerly been. Though the present circumstance do 
 not. admit of the same reduction, yet it admits of such a be- 
 ginning, as may accomplish that end in less time, than in 
 the former case. 
 
 The amount of taxes for the year, ending at Michaelmas 
 178S, was as follows: 
 
 Land-tax, - - - £1,930,000 
 
 Customs, -- - - 3,7Si),274 
 
 Carried over £ 5,73i),$74 
 
 Tyler with a dagger; and two or three others falling upon him, 
 lie was instantly sacrificed. 
 
 Tyler appears to have 1 been an intrepid di -interested man, with 
 respect to himself. All his proposals made to Richard, were o.i a 
 more just and public ground, than those which had been made to 
 John by the Barons ; and notwithstanding the sycophai.cy of his- 
 torians, and men like Mr. Burke, who seek to g'.wss over abu»e ac- 
 tion of the Court by traducing Tyler, his fame will outlive their 
 falsehood. If the Barons merited a monument to be «rvct*d in 
 Runnymede, Tyler merits one in Sinithfie'd,
 
 m RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II'. 
 
 Brought over - 5,739,274 
 
 Excise, (including ale and new malt,) - 6,751,727 
 
 Stamps - - 1,278,214 
 
 Miscellaneous taxes and incidents, - 1,803,755 
 
 £15,572,970 
 
 Since the year 1778, upwards of one million, new taxes 
 have been laid on, besides the produce from the lotteries ; 
 and as the taxes have in general been more productive since 
 than before, the amount may be taken, in round numbers, at 
 17,000,000. 
 
 N. B. The expence of collection and the drawbacks, 
 which together amount to nearly two millions, are paid out 
 of the gross amount ; and the above is the nett sum paid 
 into the Exchequer. 
 
 This sum of seventeen millions is applied to two different 
 purposes; the one to pay the interest of the National 
 debt, the other to the current expences of each year. 
 About nine millions are appropriated to the former; and 
 the remainder, being nearly eight millions, to the latter. 
 As to the million, said to be applied to the reduction of the 
 debt, it is so much like paying with one hand and taking 
 out with the other, as not to merit much notice. 
 
 It happened, fortunately for France, that she possessed 
 National domains for paying off her debt, and thereby les- 
 sening her taxes : but as this is not the case in England, 
 lier reduction of taxes can only take place by reducing 
 the current expences, which may now be done to the 
 amount of four or five millions annually, as will hereafter 
 appear. When this is accomplished, it will more than 
 counterbalance the enormous charge of the American war; 
 and the saving will be from the same source from whence 
 the evil arose. . - 
 
 As to the National debt, however heavy the interest may 
 be in taxes; yet, as it serves to keep alive a capital, useful 
 to commerce, it balances by its effects a considerable part 
 of its own weight; and as the quuntity of gold and silver in 
 England is, by some means or other, short of its proper 
 proportion*, (being not more than twenty millions, where- 
 as it should be sixty,) it would, besides the injustice, be bad 
 policy to extinguish a capital that serves to supply that de- 
 
 * Foreign intrigue, foreign wars, and foreign dominions, will in 
 a gTeat measure account for the deficiency.
 
 Chap. V. rights cf mam. S3 
 
 feet But with respect to the current expence, whatever ia 
 saved therefrom is gain. The excess may serve to keep 
 corruption alive, but it has no re-action on credit and com- 
 merce, like the interest of the debt. 
 
 It is now very probable, that the English Government (I 
 do not mean the Nation) is unfriendly to the French Revo- 
 lution. Whatever seives to expose the intrigue and lessen 
 the influence of Courts, by lessening taxation, will be un- 
 welcome to those who feed upon ^he spoil. Whilst the. 
 clamour of French intrigue, arbitrary power, popery, and 
 wooden shoes could be kept up, the Nation was easily al- 
 lured and alarmed into taxes. Those days are now past ; 
 deception, it is to be hoped, has reaped its last harvest, and 
 better times are in prospect for both countries, and for the 
 world. 
 
 Taking it for granted, than an alliance may be formed be- 
 tween England, France, and America, for the purposes 
 hereafter to be mentioned, the National expences of France 
 and England may consequently be lessened. The same 
 fleets and armies will no longer be necessary to either, and 
 the reduction can be made ship tor ship on each side. But 
 to accomplish these objects, the Governments must neces- 
 sarily be fitted to a common and correspondent principle. 
 Confidence can never take place, while an hostile disposi- 
 tion remains in either, or where mystery and secrecy on 
 one side, is opposed to candour and openness on the 
 other. 
 
 These matters admitted, the National expences might be 
 put back, for the sake of a precedent, to what they were at 
 6ome period when France and England were not enemiex. 
 This, consequently, must be prior to the Hanover succes- 
 sion, and also to the Revolution of lrJ88*. The first in- 
 
 * I happened to be in England at the celebration of the cente- 
 nary of the devolution of IG88. The characters of William and 
 Mary have always appeared to me detestable ; the one seeking to 
 destroy his uncle, and the other her father, to get possesion of 
 power themselves , yet, as the Nation was disposed to think tome- 
 thing ot that event, I felt hurt at seeing it ascribe the whole repu- 
 tation of it to a man who had undertaken it as a job, and who, 
 besides what he otherwise got, charged 000,004)1. for the expence 
 of the little fleet that brought him from Holland. George the 
 First acted the same close-fisted part as William had done, and 
 bought the Duchy of Bremen with the money he got from Eng- 
 and, 250,0001. over and above his pay as King; and having thut
 
 84 RIGHTS OF MAN. PaRT I I 
 
 stance that presents itself, antecedent to those dates, is in 
 the very -wasteful and profligate times of Charles the Second, 
 at -which time England and France acted as allies. If I 
 liave chosen a period of great extravagance, it will serve to 
 shew modern extravagance, in a still worse light; espe* 
 cially as the pay of the Navy, the Army, and the Revenue „ 
 officers has notencreased since that time. 
 
 The peace establishment was then as follows : — See Sir 
 John Sinclair's History of the Revenue. 
 
 Navy, ... 300,000 
 
 Army, - - - 212,000 
 
 Ordnance, - 40,000 
 
 Civil List, - 462,115 
 
 £1,014,115 
 
 The Parliament, however, settled the whole annual peace 
 establishment at 1,200,000*. If we go back to the time of 
 Elizabeth, the amount of all the taxes was but half a mil- 
 lion, yet the Nation sees nothing during that period, that 
 reproaches it with want of consequence. 
 
 All circumstances then taken together, arising from the 
 French Revolution, from the approaching harmony and 
 reciprocal interest of the two Nations, the abolition of 
 Court intrigue on both sides, and the progress of know- 
 ledge in the science of Government, the annual expendi- 
 ture might be put back to one million and an half, viz. 
 
 Navy, - . - 500,000 
 
 Army, - - 500,000 
 
 Expences of Government, - 500,000 
 
 £1,500,000 
 
 purchased it at the expence of England, added it to his Hanoverian 
 dominions for his own private profit. In fact, every Nation that 
 does not govern itself, it governed as a job. England has been 
 the prey of jobs ever since the Revolution. 
 
 * ChariVs, like his predecessors and successors, finding that war 
 was the harvest of Governments, engaged in a war with the Dutch, 
 the expence of which encre-ised the annual expenditure to 
 £1,800,000, as stated under the date of 1666; but the peace esta- 
 blishment was but .£1,200,000.
 
 Chap. V- rights of mas. 85 
 
 Even this sum is six times greater than the expences of 
 Government are in America, yet the Civil internal Govern- 
 ment in England, (I mean that administered by means of 
 quarter sessions, juries, aud assize, and which, in fact, is 
 nearly the whole, and performed by the Nation,) is less 
 expence upon the Revenue, than the same species and 
 portion of Government is in America. 
 
 It is time that Nations should be rational, and not be 
 governed like animals, for the pleasure of their riders. To 
 read the History of Kings, a man would be almost inclined 
 to suppose that Government consisted in stag-hunting, and 
 that every Nation paid a million a year to a huntsman. 
 Man ought to have pride, or shame enough to blush at being 
 thus imposed upon, aud when he feels his proper charac- 
 ter, he will. Upon all subjects of this nature, there is often 
 passing in the mind, a train of ideas he has not yet accus- 
 tomed himself to encourage and communicate. Restrained 
 by something that puts on the character of prudence, he 
 acts the hyprocrite upon himself as well as to others. It is, 
 however, curious to observe how soon this spell can be dis- 
 solved. A single expression, boldly conceived and uttered, 
 will sometimes put a whole company into their proper feel- 
 ings; and whole Nations are acted upon in the same manner. 
 
 As to the oilices of which any Civil Government may be 
 composed, it matters but little by what names they are de- 
 scribed. In the routine of business, as before observed, 
 whether a man be styled a President, a King, an Emperor, 
 a Senator, or any thing else, it is impossible that any ser- 
 vice he can perform, can merit from a Nation more than 
 ten thousand pounds a year; aud as no man should be 
 paid beyond his services, so every man of a proper heart 
 will not accept more. Public money ought to be touched 
 with the most scrupulous consciousness of honour. It is 
 riot the produce of riches only, but of the hard earnings of 
 labour and poverty. It is drawn even from the bitterness 
 of want and misery. Not a beggar passes, or perishes in 
 the streets, whose mite is not in that mass. 
 
 Were it possible that the Congress of America, could be 
 so lost to their duty, and to the interest of their consti- 
 tuents, as to offer General Washington, as President of 
 America, a million a year, he would not, and he could not, 
 accept it. His sense of honour is of another kind. It has 
 cost England almost seventy millions sterling, to maintain 
 a family imported from* abroad, of very inferior capacity 
 to thousands in the Nation; and scarcely a year has passed
 
 86 
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 Part II. 
 
 that has not produced some new mercenary application. 
 Even the physicians bills have been sent to the public to be 
 paid. No wonder that jails are crowded, and taxes and 
 poor-rates encreased. Under such systems, nothing is to 
 be looked for but what has already happened; and as to 
 reformation, whenever it come, it must be from the \ation, 
 and not from the Government. 
 
 T© shew that the sum of five hundred thousand pounds is 
 more than sufficient to defray all the expences of Govern- 
 ment, exclusive of navies and armies, the following esti- 
 mate is added for any country of the same extent as 
 England. 
 
 In the first place, three hundred Representatives, fairly 
 elected, are sufficient for all the purposes to which legis- 
 lation can apply, and preferable to a large number. They 
 may be divided into' two or three houses, or meet in one, 
 as in France, or in any manner a Constitution shall direct. 
 
 As representation is always considered, in free countries, 
 as the most honourable of all stations, the allowance made 
 to it is merely to defray theexpence which the Representa- 
 tives incur by that service, and not to it as an office. 
 
 If an allowance, at the rate of five 
 hundred pounds per ann. be made 
 to every representative, deducting 
 for non-attendance, the expence, if 
 the whole number attended for six 
 months, each year, would be ' - 
 
 The official departments cannot rea- 
 sonably exceed the following num- 
 ber, with the salaries annexed : 
 
 Three offices, at ten thousand pounds 
 each, - 
 
 Ten ditto, - 
 
 Twenty ditto, 
 
 Forty ditto, 
 
 Two hundred ditto, 
 
 Three hundred ditto, 
 
 Five hundred ditto, 
 
 Seven hundred ditto, 
 
 If a Nation, chuse, it can deduct four per cent, from all 
 ©Bices, and makt one of twenty thousand per ann. 
 
 £75,000 
 
 - 
 
 30,000 
 
 at o£5000 each 
 
 50,000 
 
 at £2000 each 
 
 40,000 
 
 at £1000 each 
 
 40,000 
 
 at £ 500 each 
 
 100,000 
 
 at£ 200 each 
 
 60,000 
 
 at£ 100 each 
 
 50,000 
 
 at £ 75 each 
 
 52,500 
 
 £497,500
 
 Chap. V. bights or mak. 87 
 
 All revenue officers are paid out of the monies they col- 
 lect, and therefore are not in this estimation. 
 
 The foregoing is not offered as an exact detail of offices, 
 >>ut to shew the number and rate of salaries which rive hun- 
 dred thousand pounds will support; and it will, on experi- 
 ence, be found impracticable to find business sufficient to 
 justify even this expence. As to the manner in which office 
 business is now performed, the chiefs, in several offices, such 
 as the post office, and certain offices in the exchequer, &c. 
 do little more than sign their names three or four times a 
 year; and the whole duty is performed by under clerks. 
 
 Talcing, therefore, one million and an half as a sufficient 
 peace establishment for all the honest purposes of Govern- 
 ment, which is three hundred thousand pounds more than 
 the peace establishment in the profligate and prodigal time* 
 of Charles the Second, (notwithstanding, as has been already 
 observed, the pay and salaries of the army, navy, and the 
 revenue officers, continue the same as at that period,) there 
 will remain a surplus of upwards of six millions out of the 
 present current expences. The question then will be, how 
 to dispose of this surplus. 
 
 Whoever has observed the manner in which trade and 
 and taxes twist themselves together, must be sensible of the 
 impossibility of sepaiating them suddenly. 
 
 First. Because the articles now on hand are already 
 charged with the duty, and the reduction cannot take place 
 on the present stock. 
 
 Secondly. Because, on all those articles on which the 
 duty is charged in the gross, such as per barrel, hogshead, 
 hundred weight, or tun, the abolition of the duty does not 
 admit of being divided down so as fully to relieve the con- 
 sumer, who purchases by the pint, or the pound. The last 
 duty laid on strong beer and ale, was three shillings />er 
 barrel, which, if taken off, would lessen the purchase only 
 half a farthing per pint, and consequently, would not reach 
 to practical relief. 
 
 This being the condition of a great part of the taxes, it 
 will be necessary to look for such others as are free from 
 this embarrassment, and where the relief will be direct and 
 visible, and capable of immediate operation. 
 
 In the first place, then, the poor-rates are a direct tax 
 which every house-keeper feels, and who knows also, to a 
 farthing, the sum which he pays. The national amount of 
 the whole of the poor-rates is not positively known, but 
 can be procured. Sir John Sinclair, in his History of the
 
 89 JtJGHTS OF MAN. PAST II. 
 
 Revenue, has stated it at £2,100,587. A considerable part 
 of which is expended in litigations, in which the poor, in- 
 stead of being relieved, are tormented. The expence, 
 however, is the same to the parish, from whatever cause 
 it arises. 
 
 In Birmingham, the amount of the poor-rates is fourteen 
 thousand pounds a year. This, though a large sum, is 
 moderate, compared with the population. Birmingham is 
 said to contain seventy thousand souls, and on a proportion 
 of seventy thousand to fourteen thousand pounds poor-rates, 
 the national amount of the poor-rates, taking the popula- 
 tion of England at seven millions, would be but one million 
 four hundred thousand pounds. It is, therefore, most pro- 
 bable, that the population of Birmingham is over-rated. 
 Fourteen thousand pounds is the proportion upon fifty 
 thousand souls, taking two millions of poor-rates as the 
 national amount. 
 
 Be it, however, what it may, it is no other than the con- 
 sequence of the excessive burthen of taxes, for, at the time 
 ■when the taxes were very low, the poor were able to main- 
 tain themselves ; and there were no poor-rates.* In the 
 present, state of things, a labouring man, with a wife and 
 two or three children, does not pay less than between seven 
 and eight pounds a year in taxes. He is not sensible of 
 this, because it is disguised to him in the articles which he 
 buys, and he thinks only of their dearness ; but as the taxes 
 take from him, at least a fourth part of his yearly earnings, 
 he is consequently disabled from providing for a family, 
 e>j:ecially if himself, or any of them are afflicted with 
 sickness. 
 
 The first step, therefore, of practical relief, would be to 
 abolish the poor-rates entirely, and in lieu thereof, to make- , 
 a remission of the taxes of the poor of double the amount of 
 the present poor-rates, viz. four millions annually out of the 
 surplus taxes. By this measure, the poor will be benefitted 
 two millions, and the house-keepers two millions. This 
 alone would be equal to a reduction of one hundred and 
 twenty millions of the National debt, and consequently 
 equal to the whole expence of the Ameiican war. 
 
 It will then remain to be considered, which is the most 
 effectual mode of distributing this remission of four millions. 
 
 * Poor-rates began about the time of Henry the Eighth, whett 
 the taxes began to encrease, and they have encreased N as the taxes 
 encreascd erer since.
 
 Chap. V. eights op mik. «9 
 
 It is easily seen, that the poor are generally composed of 
 large families of children, and old people past their labour. 
 If these two classes are provided for, the remedy will so far 
 reach to the full extent of the case, that what remains will 
 be incidental, and, hi a great measure, fall within the 
 compass of benefit clubs, which, though of humble 
 invention, merit to be ranked among the best of modern 
 institutions. 
 
 Admitting England to contain seven millions of souls; if 
 one-fifth thereof are of that class of poor which need sup- 
 port, the number will be one million four hundred thousand. 
 Of this number, one hundred and forty thousand wdl be 
 aged poor, as will be hereafter shewn, and for which a dis- 
 tinct provision will be proposed. 
 
 There will then remain one million two hundred and 
 sixty thousand, which, at five souls to each family, amount 
 to two hundred and fifty-two thousand families, rendered 
 poor from the expence of children and the weight of taxes. 
 
 The number of children under fourteen years of age, in 
 each of tho>e families, will be found to be about five to 
 every two families; some having two, and others three; 
 •ome one, and others four ; some none, and others five ; but 
 it rarely happens that more than five are. under fourteen 
 years of age, and after this age they are capable of service or 
 of being apprenticed. 
 
 Allowing five children (under fourteen years) to every two 
 families, 
 
 The number of children will be - „ 630,000 
 
 The number of parents were they all living, ? , . . ^ 
 would be - - - - -J o04 > 000 
 
 It is certain, that if the children are provided for, the 
 parents are relieved of consequence, because it is from 
 the expence of bringing up children that their poverty 
 arises. 
 
 Having thus ascertained the greatest number that can be 
 supposed to need support on account of young families, I 
 proceed to the mode of relief or distribution, which is, 
 
 To pay as a remission of taxes to every poor family, out 
 of the surplus taxes, and in room of poor-rates, four pounds 
 a year for every child under fourteen years of age; enjoin- 
 ing the parents of such children to send them to school, to 
 learn reading, writiug, and common arithmetic; the minis- 
 ters of every parish, of every denomination, to certify joint-
 
 90 RIGHT* OF MAN. PART IL 
 
 \y to an office, for that purpose, that this duty is per- 
 formed. 
 
 The amount of this expence will be, 
 For six hundred and thirty thousand children, 
 at four pounds per ami. each .£2,520,000 
 
 By adopting this method, not only the poverty of the 
 parents will be relieved, but ignorance will be banished from 
 the rising generation, and the number of poor will hereafter 
 become less, because their abilities, by the aid of education, 
 will be greater. Many a youth, with good natural genius, 
 who is apprenticed to a mechanical trade, such as a car- 
 penter, joiner, millwright, shipwright, blacksmith, &c. is 
 prevented getting forward the whole of his life, from the 
 want of a little common education when a boy. 
 
 I now proceed to the case of the aged. 
 
 I divide age into two classes. First, the approach of age 
 beginning at fifty. Secondly, old age commencing at sixty. 
 
 At fifty, though the mental faculties of man are in full 
 vigour, and his judgment better than at any preceding date, 
 the bodily powers for laborious life are on the decline. He 
 cannot bear the same quantity o'f fatigue as at an earlier 
 period. He begins to earn less, and is less capable of 
 enduring wind and weather; and in those more retired 
 employments where much sight is required, he fails apace, 
 and sees himself, like an old horse, beginning to be turned 
 adrift. 
 
 At sixty his labour ought to be over, at least from direct 
 necessity. It is painful to see old age working itself to 
 death, in what are called civilized countries, for daily 
 bread. 
 
 To form some judgment of the number of those above 
 fifty years of age, I have several times counted the persons 
 I meet in the streets of London, men, women, and children, 
 and have generally found that the average is about one in 
 •ixteen or seventeen. If it be said that the aged persons do 
 not come much in the streets, so neither do infants ; and 
 a great proportion of grown children are in schools, and in 
 work-shops as apprentices. Taking then sixteen for a 
 divisor, the whole number of persons in England, of fifty 
 years and upwards of both sexes, rich and poor, will be four 
 hundred and twenty thousand. 
 
 The persons to be provided for out of this gross number 
 
 will be, husbandmen, common labourers, journeymen of
 
 Cuap. V. itttuTs or ma*. $1 
 
 every trade and their wives, sailors, and disbanded soldiers, 
 worn out servants of both sexes, and poor widows. 
 
 There will be also a considerable number of middling 
 tradesmen, who having lived decently in the former part of 
 life, begin, as age approaches, to lose their business, and at 
 last fall to decay. 
 
 Besides these, there will be constantly thrown off from 
 the revolutions ©f that wheel, which no man can stop, nor 
 regulate, a number from every class of life connected with 
 commerce and adventure. 
 
 To provide for all those accidents, and whatever else may 
 befal, I take the number of persons, who at one time or other 
 of their lives, after fifty years of age, may feel it necessary 
 or comfortable to be better supported, than they can sup- 
 port themselves, and that not as a matter of grace and 
 favour, but of right, at one third of the whole number, 
 which is one hundred and forty thousand, as stated in page 
 S9, and for whom a distinct provision was proposed to be 
 made. If there be more, society, notwithstanding the shew 
 and pomposity of Government, is in a deplorable condition 
 in England. 
 
 Of this one hundred and forty thousand, I take one half, 
 seventy thousand, to be of the age of fifty and under sixty, 
 and the other half to be sixty years and upwards. — Having 
 thus ascertained the probable proportion of the number of 
 aged persons, I proceed to the mode of rendering their con- 
 dition comfortable, which is, 
 
 To pay every such person of the age of fifty years, and 
 until he arrive at the age of sixty, the sum of six pounds 
 per ann. out of the surplus taxes ; and ten pounds per ann. 
 during life after the age of sixty. The expence of which 
 will be, 
 
 Seveuty thousand persons at £ G per ann. - 420,000 
 Seventy thousand ditto at £ 10 per ann. - 700,000 
 
 £ 1,120,000 
 
 This support, as already remarked, is not of the nature of 
 a charity, but of a right. Every person in England, male 
 and female, pays on an average in taxes, two pounds eight 
 shillings and sixpence per ann. from the day of his (or her) 
 birth; and, if the expence of collection be added, he pays 
 two pounds eleven shillings and sixpence; consequently, at 
 the end of fifty years he has paid one hundred and twenty- 
 eight pounds fifteen shillings ; and at sixty, one hundred
 
 Oi RIGHTS OT MAN. PART IL 
 
 and fifty- four pounds ten shillings. Converting, therefore, 
 his (or her) individual tax into a tontine, the mouey he. shall 
 receive after fifty years, is but little more than t'.ie legal 
 interest of the net money he has paid ; the rest is made up 
 from those whose circumstances do not require them to 
 draw such support, and the capital of hoth defrays the 
 expences of Government. It is on this ground that I have 
 extended the probable claims to one third of the number of 
 aged persons in the Nation. — Is it then better that the lives 
 of one. hundred and forty thousand aged persons be rendered 
 comfortable, or that a million a year of public money be 
 expended on any one individual, and him often of the most 
 worthless or insignificant character? Let reason and jus- 
 tice, let honour and humanity, let even hypocrisy, syco- 
 phancy, and Mr. Burke, let George, let Louis, Leopold, 
 "Frederic, Catherine, Cornwallis, or Tippoo Saib, answer 
 the question.* 
 
 The sum thus remitted to the poor will be, 
 To two hundred and sixty-two thousand poor 
 families, containing six hundred and thirty 
 
 thousand children, ' 2,520,000 
 
 To one hundred and forty thousand aged persons, 1,120,000 
 
 £ 3,040,000 
 
 * Reckoning- the taxes by families, five to a family pays on an 
 average, 121. 17s. Od, per ami. to this sum are to beaddedthe poor- 
 rates. Though all pay taxes in the articles they consume, all do 
 not pay poor-rates. About two millions are exempted ; some as not 
 being house-keepers,_others as not being able, and the poor them- 
 selves who receive the relief. The average, therefore, of poor-rates 
 on the remaining number, is forty shillings lor every family of five 
 persons, which makes the whole average amount of taxes and rates, 
 141. 17s. Cd. For six persons 171. 17s. For seven persons, 
 201. 16s. 6d. 
 
 The average of taxes in America, under the new and representa- 
 tive system of Government, including the interest of the debt con- 
 tracted in the war, and taking the population at four millions of 
 souls, which it now amounts to, and it is daily encreasing, is five 
 shillings per head, men, women, and children. The difference, 
 therefore, between the two Governments, is as under, 
 
 For a family of five persons 
 
 For a family of six persons 
 
 For a family of seven persons - 
 
 England. 
 
 America. 
 
 /. s. d. 
 
 /. s. d. 
 
 14 17 
 
 .15 
 
 17 17 
 
 i ia o 
 
 20 10 
 
 1 15
 
 Chap. V. rights of maic. 93 
 
 There will then remain three hundred and sixty thousand 
 pounds out of the four millions, part of which may be ap- 
 plied as follows: 
 
 After all the above cases are provided for, there will still 
 be a number of families, who though not properly <>f the 
 class of poor, yet find it difficult to give education to their 
 children; and such children, under such a case, would be ia 
 a worse condition than if their parents were actually poor. 
 A Nation under a well-regulated Government, should per- 
 mit none to be uninstructed. It is Monarchical and Aris- 
 tocratical Government only that requires ignorance for its 
 support. 
 
 Suppose then, four hundred thousand children t^ be in 
 this condition, which is a greater number than ought to be 
 supposed, after the provision already made, the method 
 will be, 
 
 To allow for each of those children ten shillings a year 
 for the expence of schooling, for six years each, which will 
 give them six months schooling each year, and half a crown 
 a year for paper and spelling books. 
 
 The expence of this will be annually* £ 250,000. 
 
 There will then remain one hundred and ten thousand 
 pounds. 
 
 Notwithstanding the great modes of relief which the best, 
 instituted and best principled Government may devise, there 
 /ill still be a great number of smaller cases, which it is 
 geod policy as well as beneficence in a Nation to consider. 
 
 Were twenty shillings to be given immediately on the 
 birth of "a child, to every woman who should make the de- 
 
 * Public schools do not answer the general purpose of the poor. 
 They are chiefly in corporation towns, from winch the country 
 towns and villages are excluded ; or, if admitted, the distance occa- 
 sions a great loss of time. Education, to be useful to the poor, 
 should be on the spot ; and the best method, I believe, to accom- 
 plish this, iato enable the parents to pay the expence themselves. 
 There ate always persons of both sexes to be found in every village, 
 especially when growing into years, capable of such an under- 
 taking. Twenty children, at ten shillings each, (and that not 
 more than six mouths each year) would be as much r.s soraw 
 livings amount to in the remote parts of England ; and there are 
 often distressed clergymen** widows to w horn such an income 
 would be acceptable. Whatever is given on this account to chil- 
 dren, answers two purposes, t6 them it is education, to thoie wh» 
 •duenfe them it is a livelihood,
 
 54 XIGHTS OF MAN. PaRT II. 
 
 roand, and none will make it whose circumstances do not 
 
 require it, it might relieve a great deal of instant distress. 
 There are about two hundred thousand births yearly in 
 
 England ; and if claimed by one fourth, 
 
 The amount would be £ 50,000 
 
 And twenty shillings to every new-married couple who 
 
 should claim in like manner, 
 
 This would not exceed the sum of - - .£20,000 
 
 Also twenty thousand pounds to be appropriated to 
 defray the funeral expences of persons, who, travelling for 
 •work, may die at a distance from their friends. By reliev- 
 ing parishes from this charge, the sick stranger will be 
 Letter treated. 
 
 I shall finish this part of the subject with a plan adapted 
 to the particular condition of a metropolis, such as London. 
 
 Cases are continually occurring in a metropolis, different 
 to those which occur in the country, and for which a dif- 
 ferent, or rather an additional mode of relief is necessary. 
 In the country, even in large towns, people have a know- 
 ledge of each other, and distress never rises to that extreme 
 height it sometimes does in a metropolis. There is no such 
 thing in the country as persons, in the literal sense of the 
 "word, starved to death, or dyirlg with cold from the want 
 of a lodging. Yet such cases, and others equally as 
 miserable, happen in London. 
 
 Many a youth comes up to London full of expectations, 
 and with little or no money, and unless he get immediate 
 employment, he is already half undone; and boys bred up 
 in London, without any means of a livelihood, and as it 
 often happens of dissolute parents, are in a still worse con- 
 tion ; and servants long out of place are not much better off. 
 In short, a world of little cases are continually arising, 
 which busy or affluent life knows not of, to open the first 
 door to distress. Hunger is not among the postponeable 
 wants, and a day, even a few hours, in such a condition, is 
 often the crisis of a life of ruin. 
 
 These circumstances, which are the general cause of the 
 little thefts and pilferings that lead to greater, may be pre- 
 vented. There yet remain twenty thousand pounds out of 
 the four millions of surplus taxes, which, with another fund 
 hereafter to be mentioned, amounting to about twenty 
 thousand pounds more, cannot be better applied than to 
 this purpose. The plan then will be, 
 First, To erect two or more buildings, or take some
 
 Ch\p.V. rights of maw. 9j 
 
 already erected, capable of containing at least six thousand 
 persons, and to have in each of these places as many kinds 
 of employment as can be contrived, so that «'very person 
 vrho shall come may find something which he or she can do. 
 Secondly, To receive all who shall come, without enquir- 
 ing who or what they are. The only condition to be, that 
 for so much, or so many hours work, each person shall 
 receive so many meals of wholesome food, and a warm 
 lodging, at least as good as a barrack. That a certain por- 
 tion of what each person's work shall he worth shall be 
 reserved, and given to him, or her, on their going away ; 
 and that each person shall stay as long, or as short time, or 
 come as often as he or she chuse, on these conditions. 
 
 If each person staid three months, it would assist by rota- 
 tion twenty-four thousand persons annually, though the real 
 number, at all times would be but six thousand. By esta- 
 blishing an asylum of this kind, persons to whom temporary 
 distresses occur, would have an opportunity to recruit 
 themselves, and be enabled to look out for better employ- 
 ment. Allowing that their labour paid but one half the 
 expence of supporting them, after reserving a portion of 
 their earnings for themselves, the sum of forty tuousaud 
 pouuds additional, would defray all other charges for even a 
 greater number than six thousand. 
 
 The fund very properly convertible to this purpose, in 
 addition to the twenty thousand pounds, remaining of the 
 former fund, will be the produce of the tax upon coals, so 
 iuiquitously and wantonly applied to the support of the 
 Duke of Richmond. It is horrid that any man, more espe- 
 cially at the price coals now are, should live on the distresses 
 of a community; and any Government permitting such an 
 abuse, deserves to be dismissed. This fund is said to be 
 about twenty thousand pounds per annum. 
 
 I shall now conclude this plan with enumerating the 
 several particulars, and then proceed to other matters. 
 
 The enumeration is as follows : , 
 
 First, Abolition of two millions of poor-rates. 
 
 Secondly, Provision for two hundred and fifty-two thou- 
 sand poor families. 
 
 Thirdly, Education for one million and thirty thousand 
 children, 
 
 Fourthly, Comfortable provision for one hundred and 
 forty thousand aged persons. 
 
 Fifthly, Donation of twenty shillings each for fifty 
 thousand births.
 
 96 JtiGHTS or maw. Part II. 
 
 Sixthly, Donation of twenty shillings each for twenty 
 thousand marriages. 
 
 Seventhly, Allowance of twenty thousand pounds for the 
 funeral expenccs of persons travelling for work, and dying 
 at a distance from their friends. 
 
 Eighthly, Employment, at all times, for the casual poor 
 in the Cities of London and Westminster. 
 
 By the operation of this plan, the poor laws, those instru- 
 ments of civil torture, will be superceded, and the wasteful 
 expence of litigation prevented. The hearts of the humane 
 ■will not be shocked by ragged and hungry children, and 
 persons of seventy and eighty years of age begging for bread. 
 The dying poor Will not be dragged from place to place to 
 "breathe their last, as a reprisal of parish upon parish. 
 "Widows will have a maintenance for their children, and not 
 be carted away, on the death of their husbands, like culprits 
 and criminals; and children will no longer be considered as 
 encreasing the distresses of their parents. The haunts of 
 the wretched will be known, because it will be to their 
 advantage; and the number of petty crimes, the offspring 
 of distress and poverty, will be lessened. The poor, as well 
 as the rich, will then be interested in the support of Govern- 
 ment, and the cause and apprehension of riots and tumults 
 ■will cease. Ye who sit in ease, and solace yourselves in 
 plenty, and such there are in Turkey and Russia, as well as 
 in England, and wJio say to yourselves, "*Are we not well 
 off," have ye thought of these things? When ye do, ye 
 will cease to speak and feel for yourselves alone. 
 
 Tbe plan is easy in practice. It does not embarrass trade 
 by a sudden interruption in the order of* taxes, but effects 
 the relief by changing the application of them ; and the 
 money necessary for the purpose can be drawn from the 
 excise collections, which are made eight times a year in 
 every market town in England. 
 
 Having now arranged and concluded this subject, I pro- 
 ceed to the next. 
 
 Taking the present current expences at seven millions and 
 an half, which is the least amount they are now at, there 
 will remain (after the sum of one million and an half he 
 taken for the new current expences, and four millions for 
 the before-mentioned service) the sum of two millions ; part 
 of which to be applied as follows: 
 
 Though fleets and armies, by an alliance with Fiance, 
 ■will, in a great measure, become useless, yet the persons 
 •who have devoted themselves to thoie services, and have
 
 Chap. V. rights o* ma.h. OX 
 
 thereby unfitted themselves for other lines of life, are not to 
 be sufferers by the means that make others happy. They 
 are a different description of men to those who form or hang 
 about a Court. 
 
 A part of the army will remain at least for some years, 
 and also of the navy, for which a provision is already made 
 in the former part of this plan, of one million, which is 
 almost half a million more than the peace establishment 
 of the army and navy in the prodigal times of Charles the 
 Second. 
 
 Suppose then fifteen thousand soldiers to be disbanded, 
 and that an allowance be made to each of three shillings * 
 week during life, clear of all deductions, to be paid in the 
 same manner as the Chelsea College pensioners are paid, and 
 for them to return to their trades and their friends ; and 
 also that an addition of fifteen thousand sixpences per week 
 be made to the pay of the soldiers who shall remain ; the 
 annual expence will be, 
 
 To the pay of fifteen thousand dis- 
 banded soldiers, at three shillings per 
 week, > - - - £117,000 
 
 Additional pay to the remaining sol- 
 diers, - - - -\ 19,500 
 
 Suppose that the pay to the officers of 
 the disbanded corps be of the same 
 amount as the sum allowed to the 
 men - - - 117,000 
 
 253,500 
 
 To prevent bulky estimations, admit 
 the same sum to the disbanded navy 
 as to the army, and the same in- 
 crease of pay, - 253,500 
 
 Total £ 507,000 
 
 Every year some part of this sum of half a million (I 
 omit the odd seven thousand pounds for the purpose of 
 'keeping the account unembarrassed) will fall in, and the 
 -whole of it in time, as it is on the ground of life annuities", 
 except the increased pay of twenty-nine thousand pounds. 
 As it falls in, a part of the taxes may be taken off; for in- 
 stance, when thirty thousand pounds fall in, the duty on 
 liops may be wholly taken off; and as other parts fall in,
 
 9? RIGHTS OF man. Part II. 
 
 the duties on candies and soap may be lessened, till at last 
 they will totally cease. 
 
 There now remains at least one million and a half of sur- 
 plus taxes. 
 
 The tax on houses and windows is one of those direct 
 taxes, which, like the poor-rates, is not confounded with 
 trade; and, when taken off, the relief will be instantly felt. 
 This tax falls heavy on the middling class of people. 
 
 The amount of this tax by the returns of 17S8, was, 
 
 Houses and windows by the act of 1776\ 3Sr»,45 v Q 11 7 
 Ditto ditto by the act of 1779, 130,739 14 5 
 
 Total £616,191) 
 
 If this tax be struck off, there will then remain about one 
 million of surplus taxes, and as it is always proper to keep 
 a sum in reserve, for incidental matters, it may be best not 
 to extend reductions further, in the first instance, but to con- 
 aider what may be accomplished by other modes of Reform. 
 
 Among the taxes most heavily felt is the commutation- 
 tax. I shall, therefore, oiler' a plan for its abolition, by 
 substituting another in its place, which will effect three 
 objects at- once ; 
 
 First, That of removing the burthen to where it can best 
 be borne. 
 
 Secondly, Restoring justice among families by a distribu- 
 tion of property. 
 
 Thirdly, Extirpating the overgrown influence arising 
 from the unnatural law of primogeniture, and which is ona 
 of the principal sources of corruption at elections. 
 
 The amount of the commutation-tax by 
 the returns of 1788, was, - - .£771,6*57 
 
 When taxes are proposed, the country is amused by the 
 plausible language of taxing luxuries. One thiug is called 
 a luxury at one time, and something else at another; but 
 the real luxury does not consist in the article, but in the 
 means of procuring it, and this is always kept out of sight. 
 
 I know not why any plant or herb of the fieM should be 
 a greater luxury in one country than another, but an over- 
 grown estate is a luxury at all time9, and as such is the 
 proper object of taxation. It is, therefore, right to take 
 those kind tax-making gentlemen up on their own word, 
 and argue on the principle themselves have laid down, that 
 of taxing lu.mriu, If they, or their champion Mr, Burke,
 
 CilAP. V, RIGHTS OF MAK. 09 
 
 who, I fear, is growing out of date, like the man in armour, 
 can prove that an estate of twenty, thirty, or forty thousand 
 pounds a year is not a luxury, I will give up the argument. 
 
 Admitting that any annual sum, say for instance, ope 
 thousand pounds, is necessary or sufficient for the support 
 of a family, consequently the second thousand is of the 
 nature of a luxury, the third still more so, and by proceed- 
 on, we shall at last arrive at a sum that may not improperly 
 be called a prohibitable luxury. It would not be impolitic 
 to set bounds to property acquired by industry, and there* 
 fore it is right to place the prohibition beyond the probable 
 acquisition to which industry can extend ; but there ought 
 to be a limit to property, or the accumulation of it, by 
 bequest. It should pass in some other line. The richest ia 
 every Nation have poor relations, and those often very near 
 in consanguinity. 
 
 The following table of progressive taxation is constructed 
 on the above principles, and as a substitute for the commu- 
 tation-tax. It will reach the point of prohibition by a. 
 regular operation, and thereby supercede the AristocraticaL 
 law of primogeniture. 
 
 TABLE I. 
 
 A tax on all estates of the clear yearly value of fifty 
 pounds, after deducting the land-tax, and up 
 
 , u s. d. 
 
 To £500 - - . - 3 per pound 
 
 From 500 to 1000 - - 6 per pound 
 
 On the second thousand - - 9 per pound 
 
 On the third ditto - - 10 per pound 
 
 On the fourth ditto - - if) per pound 
 
 On the fifth ditto - - 2 per pound 
 
 On the sixth ditto - - 3 per pound 
 
 On the seventh ditto - - 4 0. per pound 
 
 On the eighth ditto - - 5 per pound 
 
 On the ninth ditto - - 6 per pound 
 
 On the tenth ditto - - 7 per pound 
 
 On the eleventh ditto - - 8 per pound 
 
 On the twelfth ditto - - 9 per pound 
 
 On the thirteenth ditto - - 10 per pound 
 
 On the fourteenth ditto - » 11 per pound 
 
 On the fifteenth ditto - - 12 per pound 
 
 On the sixteenth ditto - - 13 per pound 
 
 On the seventeenth ditto - - 14 per pound
 
 100 RIGHTS OF MAK. PART II, 
 
 J. d. 
 
 On the eighteenth ditto - - 15 per pound 
 
 On the nineteenth ditto - - 10' per pound 
 
 On the twentieth ditto - - 17 per pound 
 
 On the twenty-first ditto - - IS per pound 
 
 On the twenty-second ditto - 10 per pound 
 
 On the twenty-third ditto - - 20 per pound 
 
 The foregoing table shews the progression per pound on 
 every progressive thousand. The following table shews the 
 amount of the tax on every thousand separately, and in the 
 last column, the total amount of all the separate sums 
 collected. 
 
 TABLE II. 
 
 d. £ s. d. 
 
 An estate of £ 50 per ann. at 3 per pound pays 12 (5 
 
 100 3 15 
 
 200 3 2 10 O 
 
 300 3 3 15 O 
 
 400 3 5 
 
 500 3 7 5 
 
 After 5007. — the tax of sixpence per pound takes place on 
 the second 500/. — consequently an estate of 1000/. per arm. 
 pays 21/. 15 j. and so on. 
 
 /. 
 
 Tor the 1st 500 at 
 
 2d 500 at 
 
 2d 1000 at 
 
 3d 1000 at 
 
 4th 1000 at 
 
 5th 1000 at 
 
 6th 1000 at 
 
 7th 1000 at 
 
 8th 1000 at 
 *>th 1000 at 
 10th 1000 at 
 11th 1000 at x 8 
 12th 1000 at 9 
 13th 1000 at 10 
 14th 1000 at 11 
 15th 1000 at 12 
 16th 1000 at 13
 
 
 
 750 
 
 
 
 6 130 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 800 
 
 
 
 6930 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 850 
 
 
 
 7780 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 000 
 
 
 
 80'80 
 
 > 
 
 
 
 950 
 
 
 
 9630 
 
 5 
 
 Chap. V. bights of max. 101 
 
 /. s. d. I. s. I. s. 
 
 17th 1000 at 14 700 5380 5 
 
 iStU 1000 at 15 
 lftthlOOOat 16 
 20th 1000 at 17 
 21st 1000 at 15 
 
 22d 1000 at 19 
 
 23d 1000 at 20 1000 10G30 5 
 
 At the twenty-third thousand the tax becomes twenty shil- 
 lings in the pound, and consequently every thousand beyond 
 that sum can produce no profit but by dividing the estate. Yet 
 formidable as this tax appears, it will not, I believe, produce 
 so much as the commutation tax ; should it produce more, 
 it ought to be lowered to that amount upon estates under 
 two or three thousand a year. 
 
 On small and middling estates it is lighter (as it is intended 
 to be) than the commutation tax. It is not till after seve* 
 or eight thousand a year that it begins to be heavy. The 
 object is not so much the produce of the tax, as the justice 
 of the measure. The Aristocracy has screened itself too 
 much, and this serves to restore a part of the lo.-^t equilibrium. 
 
 As an instance of its screening itself, it is only necessary 
 to look back to the first establishment of the excise laws, at 
 what is called the Restoration, or the coming of Charles the 
 Second. The Aristocratical interest then in power, com- 
 muted the feudal services itself was under by laying a tax 
 on beer brewed for sale; that is, they compounded with 
 Charles for an exemption from those services for themselves 
 and their heirs, by a tax to be paid by other people. The 
 Aristocracy do not purchase beer brewed for sale, but brew 
 their own beer free of the duty, and if any commutation at 
 that time were necessary, it ought to have been at the ex- 
 pence of those for whom the exemptions from those services 
 were intended*; instead of which it was thrown on an 
 entire different class of men. 
 
 But the chief object of this progressive tax (besides the 
 justice of rendering taxes more equal than they are) is, as 
 
 * The tax on beer brewed for sale, from which the Aristocracy 
 are exempt, is almost one million more than the present commuta- 
 tion tax, being by the returns of 1788, l,6Go,1521. and eonse-. 
 quently they ought to take on themselves the amount of the 
 commutation tax, as they are already exempted from one which i« 
 almost one million greater.
 
 102 EIGHTS OF MAS. PART II. 
 
 already stated, to extirpate the overgrown influence arising 
 from the unnatural law of primogeniture, and which is one 
 of the principal sources of corruption at elections. 
 
 It would be attended with no good consequences to 
 enquire how such vast estates as thirty, forty, or fifty thou- 
 sand a year could commence, and that at a time when com- 
 merce and manufactures were not in a state to admit of 
 such acquisitions. Let it be sufficient to remedy the evil by 
 putting them in a condition of descending again to the com- 
 munity, by the quiet means of apportioning them among all 
 the heirs and heiresses of those families. This will be the 
 more necessary, because hitherto the Aristocracy have 
 quartered their young children and connections upon the 
 public in useless posts, places, and offices, which when 
 abolished, will leave them destitute, unless the law of pri- 
 mogeniture be also abolished or superceded. 
 
 A progressive tax will, in a great measure, effect this 
 object, and that as a matter of interest to the parties most 
 immediately concerned, as will be seen by the following 
 table; which shews the nett produce upon every estate, after 
 subtracting the tax. By this it will appear, that after an 
 estate exceeds thirteen or fourteen thousand a year, the 
 remainder produces but liitle profit to the holder, and con- 
 sequently will pass either to the younger children, or to 
 other kindred. 
 
 TABLE III. 
 
 Shewing the nett produce of every estate from one thou- 
 sand to twenty-three thousand pounds a year. 
 
 No. of thousands Total tax Nett produce, 
 per ann. subtracted. 
 
 oL oC «£» 
 
 1000 21 979 
 
 2000 59 1941 
 
 3000 109 2891 
 
 4000 184 381(5 
 
 5000 284 471<3 
 
 0000 434 5566 
 
 7000 634 6366 
 
 8000 8S0 7120 
 
 9000 1180 7820 
 
 10,000 1530 8170 
 
 11,000 1930 9070 
 
 12,000 2380 9620 
 
 13,000 2880 10,120
 
 CujlT. V. rights of maw. 103 
 
 14,000 
 
 3430 
 
 10,570 
 
 15,000 
 
 4030 
 
 10,970 
 
 16,000 
 
 4GSO 
 
 11,320 
 
 17,000 
 
 5380 
 
 11,620 
 
 18,000 
 
 6J30 
 
 11,170 
 
 19,000 
 
 6930 
 
 12,170 
 
 20,000 
 
 7780 
 
 12,220 
 
 21,000 
 
 S6«0 
 
 12,320 
 
 22.000 
 
 9(530 
 
 12,370 
 
 23,000 
 
 10,630 
 
 12,370 
 
 . N. B. The odd shillings are dropped in this table. 
 
 According to this table, an estate cannot produce more 
 than 12,3701. clear of the land tax and the progressive tax, 
 and therefore the dividing such estates will follow as a mat- 
 ter of family interest. An estate of 23,0001. a year, divided 
 into five estates of four thousand each, and one of three, 
 will be charged only 11291. which is but five per cent, but 
 if held by one possessor will be charge 10,6301. 
 
 Although an enquiry into the origin of those estates be 
 unnecessary, the continuation of them in their present state 
 is another subject. It is a matter ot national concern. As 
 hereditary estates, the law has created the evil, and it ought 
 also to provide the remedy. Primogenitureought to beabo- 
 lished, not only because it is unnatural and unjust, but be- 
 cause the country suffers by its operation. By cutting off 
 (as before observed) the younger children from their proper 
 portion of inheritance, the public is loaded with the expence 
 of maintaining them; and the freedom of elections violated 
 by the overbearing influence which this unjust monopoly of 
 family property produces. Nor is this all. It occasions a 
 waste of national property. A considerable part of the 
 land of the country is rendered unproductive by the °reat 
 extent of parks and chases which this law serves to keep up, 
 and this at a time when the annual production of grain is 
 not equal to the national consumption*. — In short, the evils 
 of the aristocratical system are so great and numerous, so 
 inconsistent with every thing that is just, wise, natural, and 
 beneficent, that when they are considered, there ought not 
 to be a doubt that many, who are now classed under that 
 description, will wish to see such a system abolished. 
 
 See the reports on the corn trade.
 
 104 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 "What pleasure can they derive from contemplating the 
 exposed condition* and almost certain beggary of their 
 younger offspring ? Every aristocratical family has an ap- 
 pendage of family beggars hanging round it, which in a few 
 ages, or a few generations, are shook off, and console 
 themselves with telling their tale in alms-houses, work- 
 houses, and prisons. This is the natural consequence of 
 aristocracy. The peer and the beggar are often of the same 
 family. One extreme produces the other: to make one 
 rich many must be made poor; neither can the system be 
 supported by other means. 
 
 There are two classes of people to whom the laws of Eng- 
 land are particularly hostile, and those the most helpless; 
 younger children and the poor. Of the former I have just 
 spoken: of the latter I shall mention one instance out of 
 the many that might be produced, and with which I shall 
 close this subject. 
 
 Several laws are in existence for regulating and limiting 
 workmen's wages. Why not leave them as free to make 
 their own bargains, as the law-makers are to let their farms 
 and houses? Personal labour is all the property they have. 
 Why is that little, and the little freedom they enjoy to be 
 infringed? But the injustice will appear stronger, if we 
 cousider the operation and effect of such laws. When wages 
 are fixed by what is called a law, the legal wages remain 
 stationary, while every thing else is in progression; and as 
 those who make that law, still continue to lay on new taxes 
 by other laws, they encrease the expence of living by one 
 law, and take away the means by another. 
 
 But if those gentlemen law-makers and tax-makers 
 thought it right to limit the poor pittance which personal 
 labour can produce, and on which a whole family is to be 
 supported, they certainly must feel themselves happily in- 
 dulged in a limitation on their own part, of not less than 
 twelve thousand a year, and that of property they never ac- 
 quired, (nor probably any of their ancestors) and of which 
 they have made so ill a use. 
 
 Having now finished this subject, I shall bring the seve- 
 ral particulars into one view, and then proceed to other 
 matters. 
 
 The first Eight Articles are brought forward from 
 
 page 96. 
 
 1. Abolition of two millions of poor-rates. 
 
 2. Provision for two hundred and fifty-two thousand poor
 
 Chap. V. Eights of man. 10i 
 
 families, at the rate of four pounds per head for each child 
 under fourteen years of age; which, with the addition of 
 twohundrsd and fifty thousand pounds, provides also edu- 
 cation for one million and thirty thousand children. 
 
 3. Annuity of six pounds (per ann.) each tor ail poor per- 
 sons, decayed tradesmen, or others (supposed seventy thou- 
 sand) of the age of fifty years, and until sixty. 
 
 4. Annuity of ten pounds each for life for all poor per- 
 sons, decayed tradesmen, and others (supposed seventy 
 thousand) of the aye of sixty years. 
 
 5. Donation of twenty shillings each for fifty thousand 
 births. 
 
 6. Donation of twenty shillings each for twenty thousand 
 marriages. 
 
 7. Allowance of twenty thousand pounds for the funeral 
 expences of persons travelling for work, and dying at a dis- 
 tance from their friends. 
 
 8. Employment at all times for the casual poor in the 
 cities of London and Westminster. 
 
 Second Enumeration. 
 
 9. Abolition of the tax on houses and windows. 
 
 10. Allowance of three shillings per week for life to fifteeH 
 thousand disbanded soldiers, and a proportionable allow- 
 ance to the officers of the disbanded corps. 
 
 If. Encrease of pay to the remaining soldiers of 19,5001. 
 annually. 
 
 12. The same allowance to the disbanded navy, and the 
 same encrease of pay, as to the army. 
 
 13. Abolition of the commutation tax. 
 
 14. Plan of a progressive tax, operating to extirpatethe 
 unjust and unnatural law of primogeniture, and the vicious 
 influence of the aristocratical system*. 
 
 * "When enquiries are made into the condition of the poor, vari- 
 ous degrees of distress will most probably be found, to render a 
 different arrangement preferable to that which is already promoted. 
 Widows with families will be in greater want than where there are 
 husbands living. There is also a difference in the expence of living 
 in different counties ; and more so in fuel. 
 
 Suppose then fifty thousand extraordinary caaes, at 
 
 the ratt of 101. per family per ann. - - 500,000 
 
 100,000 Families, at 81. per family per ann. - 600,000 
 
 100,000 Families, at 71. per family p«r anu. - 700,000 
 
 *2,000,000
 
 .100 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 There yet remain?, as already stated, one million of surplus 
 taxes. Some part of this will be required for circumstances 
 that do not immediately present themselves, and such part 
 as shall not be wanted, will admit a further reduction of 
 taxes equal to that amount. 
 
 Among the claims that justice requires to be made, the 
 condition of the inferior revenue officers will merit attention. 
 It is a reproach to any Government to waste such an im- 
 mensity of revenue in sinecures and nominal and unnecessary 
 places and offices, and not allow even a decent livelihood to 
 those on whom the labour falls. The salary of the inferior 
 officers of the revenue has stood at the petty pittance of 
 less than fifty pounds a year for upwards of one hundred 
 years. It ought to be seventy. About one hundred and 
 twenty thousand pounds applied to this purpose, wiil put all 
 those salaries in a decent condition. 
 
 This was proposed to be done almost twenty years ago, 
 but the treasury-board then in being startled at it, as it 
 might lead to similar expectations from the army and navy ; 
 and the event was, that the King, or somebody for him, ap- 
 plied to Parliament to have his own salary raised an hundred 
 thousand a year, which being done, every thing else was laid 
 aside. 
 
 With respect to another class of men, the inferkr clergy, I 
 forbear to enlarge on their condition; but all partialities 
 and prejudices for, or against, different modes and forms of 
 religion aside, common justice will determine, whether there 
 ought to be an income of twenty or thirty pounds a year to 
 one man, and of ten thousand to another. I speak on this 
 subject with the more freedom, because I am known not to 
 
 Brought over - - 2,000,000 
 
 104,000 Families, at 51. per family per arm. - 520,000 
 
 And instead of ten shillings per head for the education 
 of other children, to allow Ht'ty shillings per family for 
 that purpose to fifty thousand families - 250,000 
 
 2,770,000 
 140,000 Aged persons as before, - - 1,120,000 
 
 3,800,000 
 
 This arrangement amounts to the same sum as stated in page 91, 
 including the 250.CC01. for education ; but it provides (including 
 the aged people) for four hundred and four thousand families, 
 which is almost one third of all the families in England.
 
 Chap. V. rights cf man. 107 
 
 be a Presbyterian ; and therefore the cant cry of Court sy- 
 cophants, about church and meeting, kept up to amuse and 
 bewilder the Nation, cannot be raised against me. 
 
 Ye simple men, on both sides the question, do ye not see 
 through this courtly craft ? If ye can be kept disputing 
 and wrangling' about church and meeting, ye just answer 
 the purpose ef every courtier, who lives the while on the 
 spoil of the taxes, and laugh* at your credulity. Every re- 
 ligion is good 'hat teaches man to be good; and I know of 
 none that instructs him to be bad. 
 
 All the before-mentioned calculations, suppose only six- 
 teen millions and an half taxes paid into the Exchequer, 
 after theexpeuce of collection and drawbacks at the Custom- 
 house and Excise-office are deducted ; whereas the sum paid 
 into the Exchequer is very nearly, if not qui.te, seventeen 
 millions. The taxes raised in Scotland and Ireland are ex- 
 pended in those countries, and therefore their savings will 
 come out of their own taxes; but if any part .be paid into 
 the English Exchequer, it might be remitted. This will not 
 make one hundred thousand pounds a year difference. 
 
 There now remains only the National debt to be consi- 
 dered. In the year 1?S9, the interest, exclusive of the ton- 
 tine, was 9,150,1381. How much the capital has been re- 
 duced since that time, the Minister best knows. But after 
 paying the interest, abolishing the tax on bouses and win- 
 dows, the commutation tax, and the poor rates ; and making 
 all the provisions for the poor, for the education of children, 
 the support of the aged, the disbanded part of the army and 
 navy, and encreasing the pay of the remainder, there will be 
 a surplus of one million. 
 
 The present scheme of paying off the National debt ap- 
 pears to me, speaking as an indifferent person, to be an ill- 
 concerted, if not a fallacious job. The burthen of the Na- 
 tional debt consists not in its being so many millions, or so 
 many hundred millions, but in the quantity of taxes col- 
 lected every year to pay the interest. If this quantity con- 
 tinue the same,- the burthen of the National debt is the same 
 to all-intents and purposes, be the capital more or les9. The 
 only knowledge which the public can have ol the reduction 
 of the debt, must be through the reduction of taxes for pay- 
 ing the interest. The debt, therefore, is not reduced one 
 farthing to the public by all the null ions that have been paid; 
 and it would require more money now to purchase up the 
 capital, than when the scheme began. 
 
 Digressing for a moment at this point, to which I shall re*
 
 103 rights or maw. Part II* 
 
 turn again, I look back to the appointment of Mr. Pitt, as 
 Minister. 
 
 I was then in America. The war was over ; and though 
 resentment had ceased, memory was still alive. 
 
 When the news of the coalition arrived, though it was a 
 matter of no concern to me as a Citizen of America, I felt it 
 as a Man. It had something in it which shocked, by pnb- 
 licly sporting with decency, if not with principle. It was 
 impudence in Lord North ; it was want of firmness in Mr. 
 Fox. 
 
 Mr. Pitt was, at that time, what may be called a maiden 
 character of politics. So far from being hackneyed, he ap- 
 peared not to be initiated into the first mysteries of Court in- 
 trigue. Every thing was in his favour. Resentment against 
 the coalition served as friendship to him, and his ignorance 
 of vice was credited for virtue. With the return of peace, 
 commerce and prosperity would rise of itself; yet even this 
 cnerease was thrown to his account. 
 
 When he came to the helm the storm was over, and he 
 had nothing to interrupt his course. It required even inge- 
 nuity to be wrong, and he succeeded. A little time shewed 
 him the same sort of man as his predecessors had been. In- 
 stead of profiting by those errors which had accumulated a 
 burthen of taxes unparalleled in the world, he sought, I might 
 almost say, he advertised for enemies, and provoked means 
 to encrease taxation. Aiming at something, he knew not 
 what, he ransacked Europe and India for adventures, and 
 abandoning the fair pretensions he began with, bscame the 
 knight-errant of modern times. 
 
 It is unpleasant to see character throw itself away. It is 
 more so to see one's-self deceived. Mr. Pitt had merited 
 nothing, but he promised much. He gave symptoms of a 
 mind .superior to the meanness and corruption of Courts. 
 His apparent candour encouraged expectations: and the 
 public confidence, stunned, wearied, and confounded by a 
 chaos of parties, revived and attached itself to him. But 
 mistaking, us he has done, the disgust of the Nation against 
 the coalition, for merit in himself, he has rushed into mea* 
 sure?, which a man lees supported would not have presumed 
 to act. 
 
 All this seems to 6hew that change of ministers amounts 
 to nothing. One goes out, another comes in, and still the 
 same measures, vices, and extravagance are pursued. It sig- 
 nifies not who is Minister. The defect lies in the. system. 
 The foundation and the superstructure of the Government
 
 Chap. V. rights or man. 100 
 
 gbad. Prop it as you please, it continually sinks into Court 
 overnment, and ever will. 
 
 I return, as I promised, to the subject of the National 
 debt, that offspring of the Dutch- Anglo Revolution, and iti 
 handmaid the Hanover succession. 
 
 But it is now too late to enquire how it began,. Those,tp, 
 whom it is due have advanced the money; and whether it 
 was well or ill spent, or pocketed, is not their crime. It is, 
 however, ensy to see, that as the Nation proceeds in c >ntem- 
 plating the niture and principles of Government, and to un- 
 derstand taxes, and make comparisons between those o£" 
 America, France, and England, it will be next to impossible 
 to keep it in the same torpid state it has hitherto been. Sums 
 reform must, from the necessity of the case, soon begin. It 
 is not whether these principles press with little or much 
 force in the present moment. They are out. They are 
 abroad in the world, and no force can stop them. Like a 
 secret told, they are beyond recal ; and he must be blind 
 indeed that does not see that a change is already beginning. 
 
 Nine milliofls of dead taxes is a serious thing; and this 
 not only for bad, but in great measure for foreign Govern- 
 ment. By putting the power of making war into t ae hands 
 of foreigners who came for what they could get, little else 
 was to be expected than what has happened. 
 
 Ueasons are already advanced in this work shewing that 
 •whatever the reforms in the taxes may be, they ought to be 
 made in the current expences of Government, and not in the 
 part applied to the interest of the National debt. By remit- 
 ting the taxes of the poor, they will be totally relieved, and 
 all discontent on their part will be taken away ; and by 
 striking otF such of the taxes as are already mentioned, the 
 Nation will more than recover the -whole ex pence of the 
 mad American war. 
 
 There will theti remain only the National debt as a sub- 
 ject of discontent; and in order to remove, or rather to pre- 
 vent this, it would be good policy in the stock-holders them- 
 selves to consider it as property, subject like all other pro- 
 perty, to bear some portion of the taxes. It would give to 
 it both popularity and security, and as a great part of its 
 present inconvenience is balanced by the capital which it 
 keeps alive, a measure of this kind would so tar add to that 
 balance as to silence objections. 
 
 This may be done by such gradual means as to accom- 
 plish all that is necessary with the greatest ease and cou- 
 yenieqee.
 
 110 RIGHTS OF MAN. ?ART II. 
 
 Instead of taxing the capital, the best method would be to 
 tax the interest by some progressive ratio, and to lessen the 
 publictaxes in thesamepioportionas the interest diminished. 
 Suppose the interest was taxed one halfpenny in the pound 
 the first year, a penny more the second, and to proceed by a 
 certain ratio to be determined upon, always less than any 
 other tax upon property. Such a tax would be subtracted 
 from the interest at the time of payment, without any ex- 
 pence of collection. 
 
 One halfpenny in the pound would lessen the interest, and 
 consequently the taxes twenty thousand pounds. The tax 
 on waggons amounts to this sum, and this tax might be 
 taken off the first year. The second year the tax on female 
 servants, or some other of the like amount might also be 
 taken off, and by proceeding in this manner, always applying 
 the tax raised from the property of the debt towards its ex- 
 tinction, and not carry it to the current services, it would 
 liberate itself. 
 
 The stockholders, notwithstanding this tax, would pay 
 less taxes than they do now. What they would save by the 
 extinction of the poor-rates, and the tax on houses and 
 "windows, and the commutation tax, would be considerably 
 greater than what this tax, slow, but certain in its operation, 
 amounts to. 
 
 It appears to me to be prudence to look out for measures 
 that may apply under any circumstances that may approach. 
 There is, at this moment, a crisis in the affairs of Europe 
 that requires it. Preparation now is wisdom. If taxation 
 he once let loose, it wiil be difficult to reinstate it ; neither 
 would the relief be so effectual, as to proceed by some cer- 
 tain and gradual reduction. 
 
 The fraud, hypocrisy, and imposition of Governments, are 
 now beginning to be too well understood to promise them 
 any long career. The farce of Monarchy and Aristocracy, 
 in all countries, is following that of chivalry, and Mr. Burke 
 is dressing for the funeral. Let it then pass quietly to 
 the tomb of all other follies, and the mourners be com- 
 forted. 
 
 The time is not very distant when England will laugh at 
 itself for sending to Holland, Hanover, Zell, or Brunswick 
 for men, at the expenceof a million a year, who understood 
 neither her laws, her language, nor her interest, and whose 
 capacities would scarcely have fitted them for the office of 
 a parish constable. If Government could be trusted to such 
 hands, it roust be some easy and simple thing indeed, and
 
 Chap. V. rights of man. Ill 
 
 materials fit for all the purposes may be found in every town 
 and village in England. 
 
 When it shall be said in any country in the world, my 
 poor are happy ; neither ignorance nor distress is to be 
 found among tnem ; my jails are empty of prisoners, my 
 streets of beggars; the aged are not in want, the taxes are 
 not oppre>sive; the rational world is my friend, because I 
 am the friend of its happiness. When these things can be 
 said, then may that country boast its Constitution and its 
 Government. 
 
 Within the space of a few years we have seen two Revo- 
 lutions, those of America and France. In the former, the 
 contest was long, and the conflict severe; in the latter, the 
 Nation acted with such a consolidated impulse, that having 
 no foreign enemy to contend with, the Revolution was com- 
 plete in power the moment it appeared. From both those 
 instances it is evident, that the greatest forces that can be 
 brought into the field of Revolutions, are reason and com- 
 mon interest. Where these can have the opportunity of 
 acting, opposition dies with fear, or crumbles away by con- 
 viction. It is a great standing which they have now univer- 
 sally obtained; and we may hereafter hope to see Revolutions, 
 or changes in Governments, produced with the same quiet 
 operation by which any measure, determinable by reason 
 and discussion, is accomplished. 
 
 When a Nation changes its opinion and habiti of think- 
 ing, it is no longer to be governed as before; but it would 
 not only be wrong, but bad policy, to attempt by force what 
 ought to be accomplished by reason. Rebellion consists in 
 forcibly opposing the general will of a Nation, whether by 
 a party or by a Government. There ought, therefore, to bs 
 in every Nation a method of occasionally ascertaining the 
 state of public opinion with respect to Government. On 
 this point the old Government of France was superior to 
 the present Government of England, because, on extraordi- 
 nary occasions, recourse could be had to what was then 
 called States General. But in England there are no such 
 occasional bodies; and as to those who are now called 
 representatives, a great part of tbem are mere machines of 
 Court, placemen, and dependants. 
 
 I presume, that though all the People of England pay 
 taxes, not at an hundredth part of them are electors, and 
 the members of one of the Houses of Parliament represent 
 nobody but themselves. There is, therefore, no power but. 
 the voluntary will of the People that has a right to act in 
 any matter respecting a general reform; and by the *am c
 
 118 JIICBTS OF MAN. Part II* 
 
 right that two persons can confer on such a subject, a thou- 
 sand may. The object, in all such preliminary proceedings, 
 is to find out what the general sense of a Nation is, and- to 
 be governed by it. If it prefer a bad or defective Govern- 
 ment to a reform, or chuse to pay ten times more taxes 
 than there is occasion for, it has a right so to do; and so 
 Jong as the majority do not impose conditions on the mino- 
 rity, different to what they impose on themselves, though 
 there may be much error, there is no injustice. Neither 
 will the error continue long. Reason and discussion will 
 soon bring things right, however wrong they may begin. 
 By such'a process no tumult is to be apprehended. The 
 poor, in all countries, are naturally both peaceable and 
 grateful in all reforms in which their interest and happi- 
 ness are included. It is only by neglecting and rejecting 
 them that they become tumultuous. 
 
 The objects that now press on the public attention are, 
 the French Revolution, and the prospect of a general Revo- 
 lution in Governments. Of all Nations in Europe, there is 
 Jione so much interested in ' the French Revolution as 
 "England. Enemies for ages, and that at a vast expence, and 
 ■without any National object, the opportunity now presents 
 itself of amicably closing the scene, and joining their efforts 
 to reform the rest of Europe. By doing this, they will not 
 -only prevent the further effusion of blood, and encrease of 
 taxes, but be in a condition of getting rid of a considerable 
 part of their present burthens, as has been already stated, 
 iong experience,. however, has shewn that reforms of this 
 kind are not those which old Governments wish to promote; 
 and therefore it is to Nations, and not to such Governments, 
 that these matters present themselves. 
 
 In the preceding part of this work, I have spoken of an 
 alliance between England, France, and America, for the 
 purposes that were to be afterwards mentioned. Though I 
 liave no direct authority on the part of America, I have 
 ^ood reason to conclude, that she is disposed to enter into 
 a consideration of such a measure, provided, that the Govern- 
 ments with which she might ally, acted as National Govern- 
 ments, and not as Courts enveloped in intrigue and mystery. 
 That France as a Nation, and a National Government, would 
 prefer an alliance with England, is a matter of certainty. 
 Nations, like individuals, who have long been enemies, with- 
 out knowing each other, or knowing why, become the better 
 friends when they discover the errors and impositions under 
 which they had acted. 
 
 Admitting, therefore, the probability of such a connec*
 
 Chip. V. rights of max. 113 
 
 tion, I will state some matters by which such an alliance, 
 together with that of Holland, might render service, not only 
 to the/parties immediateJy concerned, but to all Europe. 
 
 It is, I think, certain, that if the fleets of England, France, 
 and Holland were confederated, they could propose, witli 
 effect, a limitation to, and a general dismantling of ail the 
 navies in Europe, to a certain proportion to be agreed upon- 
 
 First, That no new ship of war shall be built by any 
 power in Europe, themselves included. 
 
 Secondly, That all the navies now in existence shall be 
 put back, suppose to one-tenth of their present force. This 
 will save to France and England at least two millions ster- 
 ling annually to each, and their relative force be in the same 
 proportion as it is now. If men will permit themselves to 
 think, as rational beings ought to think, nothing can appear 
 more ridiculous and absurd, exclusive of all moral reflec- 
 tions, than to be at the expence of building navies, filling 
 them with men, and then hauling them into the ocean, to 
 try which can sink each other fastest. Peace, which costs 
 nothing, is attended with infinitely more advantage, than 
 any victory with all its expence. But this, though it best 
 answers the purpose of Nations, does not that of Court 
 Governments, whose habited policy is pretence for taxation, 
 places, and offices. 
 
 It is, I think, also certain, that the above confederated 
 powers, together with that of the United States of America, 
 can propose with effect, to Spain, the Independence of South 
 America, and the opening those countries of immense extent 
 and wealth to the general commerce of the world, as North 
 America now is. 
 
 With how much more glory, and advantage to itself, does 
 a Nation act, when it exerts its powers to rescue the world 
 from bondage, and to create itself friends, than when it em- 
 ploys those powers to encrease ruin, desolation, and misery. 
 The horrid scene that is now acting by the English Govern- 
 ment in the East Indies, is fit only to be told of Goths and 
 Vandals, who, destitute of principle, robbed and tortured 
 the world they were incapable of enjoying. 
 
 „The opening of South America wouid produce an im- 
 mense field of commerce, and a ready money market for 
 manufactures, which the eastern world does not. The East 
 is already a country full of manufactures, the importation of 
 which is not only an injury to the manufactures of England, 
 , but a drain upon its specie. The balance against England 
 by this trade is regularly upwards of half a million annually 
 .sunt out in the East India ships iu silver; and this is the
 
 114 RIGHTS OF MAN. PART II. 
 
 reason, together with German intrigue, and German sub- 
 sidies, thert is so little silver in England. 
 
 But any war is harvest to such Governments, however 
 ruinous it may be to a Nation. It serves to keep up deceit- 
 ful expectations, which prevent a people looking into the 
 delects and abuses of Government. It is the lo here ! and 
 the fa there / that amuses and cheats the multitude. 
 
 Never did so great an opportunity ofler itself to England, 
 and to all Europe, as is produced by the two Revolutions of 
 America and France. By the former, freedom has a 
 National champion in the Western world ; and by the latter, 
 in Europe. "When another Nation shall join France, 
 Despotism and bad Government will scarcely dare to appear. 
 To use a trite expression, the iron is becoming hot all over 
 Europe. The insulted German and the enslaved Spaniard, 
 the Rnss and the Pole, are beginning to think. The present 
 age will hereafter merit to be called the Age of Reason, and 
 the present generation will appear to the future as the Adam 
 of a new world. 
 
 When all the Governments of Europe shall be established 
 on the Representative system, Nations will become acquaint- 
 ed, and the animosities and prejudices fomented by the 
 intrigue and artifice of Courts, will cease. The oppressed 
 soldier will become a freeman ; and the tortured sailor, no 
 longer dragged along the streets like a felon, will pursue his 
 mercantile voyage in safety. It would be better that Nations 
 should continue the pay of their soldiers during their lives, 
 and give them their discharge, and restore them to freedom 
 and their friends, and cease recruiting, than retain such 
 multitudes at the same expence, in a condition useless to 
 society and themselves. As soldiers have hitherto been 
 treated in most countries, they might be said to be without 
 a friend. Shunned by the citizen on an apprehension of 
 being enemies to liberty, and too often insulted by those who 
 commanded them, their condition was a double oppression. 
 But where genuine principles of liberty pervade a people, 
 every thing is restored to order; and the soldier civilly 
 treated, returns the civility; 
 
 In contemplating revolutions, it is easy to perceive that 
 they may arise from two distinct causes ; the one, to avoid 
 or get rid of some great calamity ; the other, to obtain some 
 great and positive good; and the two may be distinguished 
 by the names of active and passive Revolutions. In those 
 which proceed from the former cause, the temper becomes 
 incensed and sowered ; and the redress, obtained by danger, 
 is too often sullied by revenge, But in those which proceed
 
 CifAF. V. RIGHTS OF MAN. 115 
 
 from the latter, the heart, rather animated than agitated, 
 enters serenely upon the subject Reason and discussion, 
 persuasion and conviction, become the weapons iu the con- 
 test, and it is only when those are attempted to be sup- 
 pressed that recourse is had to violence. When men unite 
 in agreeing that a thing is good, could it be obtained, such as 
 relief from a burthen of taxes, and the extinction of corrup- 
 tion, the object is more than half aocomplished. What they 
 approve as the end, they will promote in the means. 
 
 Will any man say, in the present excess of taxation, fall- 
 ing so heavily on the poor, that a remission of five pounds 
 annually of taxes to one hundred and four thousand poor 
 families is not a good thing? Will he say, that a remissior* 
 of seven pounds annually to one hundred thousand other 
 poor families — of eight pounds annually to another hundred 
 thousand poor families, and of ten pounds annually to fifty 
 thousand poor and widowed families, are not good things f 
 And to proceed a step farther in this climax, will he say, 
 that to provide against the misfortunes to which all humaa 
 life is subject, by securing six pounds annually for all poor, 
 distressed, and reduced persons of the age of fifty and untiL 
 sixty, and of ten pounds annuaily after sixty, is not a good 
 thing t 
 
 Will he say, that an abolition of two million of poor-rates 
 to the house-keepers, and of the whole of the house and. 
 ■window-light tax, and of the commutation-tax, is not a good 
 thing ? Or will he say, that to abolish corruption is a bad 
 thing ? 
 
 It, therefore, the good to be obtained be worthy of a. 
 passive, rational, and costless Revolution, it would he bad 
 policy to prefer waiting for a calamity that should force a. 
 violent one. I have no idea, considering the Reforms whichc 
 are now passing and spreading throughout Europe, that 
 England will permit herself to be the last; and where the 
 occasion and the opportunity quietly oiler, it is better thaa 
 to wait for a turbulent necessity. It may be considered as 
 an honour to the animal faculties of man to obtain redress 
 by courage and danger, but it is far greater honour to the 
 rational faculties to accomplish the same object by reason 
 accomodation, and general consent.* 
 
 , 1 l k . no T, it is ^e opinion of many of the most enlightened cha- 
 racters in France (there always will be those who see farther int.. 
 
 bTnf ™ ° th f S i n0t onl .y amo »S the 8«'eral mas, „f citizens, 
 tmt of many of the principal member? of the fora.er Nationa
 
 lio" RIGHTS OF MAN, PART II. 
 
 As Reforms, or Revolutions, call them which you please , 
 ex-.end themselves among Nations, those Nations will form 
 connections and conventions, and when a few are thus con- 
 federated, the progress will be rapid, till Despotism and 
 corrupt Government be totally expelled, at least out of two 
 quarters of the world, Europe, and America. The Algerine 
 piracy may tben be commanded to cease, for it is only by 
 the malicious policy of old Governments, against each other, 
 that it exists. 
 
 Throughout this work, various and numerous as the sub- 
 jects are, which I have taken up and investigated, there is 
 only a single paragraph upon religion, viz. " that every red" 
 gion is good, that teaches man to be good" 
 
 1 have carefully avoided to enlarge upon the subject, be- 
 cause I am inclined to believe, that what is called the 
 present Ministry wish to see contentions abour religion kept 
 up, to prevent the Nation turning its attention to subjects 
 of Government. It is, as if they were to say, " Look that 
 way, or any way but this." 
 
 But as religion is very improperly made a political 
 machine, and the reality of it is thereby destroyed, 1 will 
 conclude this work with stating in what light religion ap- 
 pears to me. 
 
 If we siipposr.: a large family of children, who, on any 
 particular day, or particular circumstance, made it a custom 
 to present to their parent some token of their affection and 
 gratitude, each of them would make a different offering, and 
 jnoat probably in a dilferent manner. Some would pay 
 their congratulations iu themes of verse or prose, by some 
 
 1 1 — — — * ' 
 
 Assembly, that the Monarclrieal plan Will not continue many years 
 in tliat country. They have found oul, that as wisdom cannot be 
 rh'aue hereditary, power ought not; and that, for a man to merit 
 a million sterling a year from a Nation, he ought to have a mind 
 capable of comprehending from an atom to a universe ; which, if 
 he had, he would be above receiving the pay. But they wished 
 liot to appear to lead the ?>ution fister than its own reason and 
 interest dictated. In all the conversations where I have been 
 present upon this subject, the idea always was, that when such a 
 time, from the general opinion of the Nation, shall arrive, that the 
 honourable -and liberal method would be, to make a handsome 
 present in fee simple to the person, whoever he may be, that shall 
 the» be in the Monarchical office, and for him to retire to the 
 enjoyment of private life, possessing his share of general rights ami 
 privilcgis, and to be no more accountable to the public for Ml 
 ^ time and his conduct than any other citizen,
 
 CHAP.V. UTUIIT9 OF MAT. II 7 
 
 little devices, as their genius dictated, according to what 
 they thought would please ; and, perhaps, the least of all, 
 not able to do any of those things, would ramble into the 
 garden, or the held, and gather what it thought the prettiest 
 flower it could find, though, perhaps, it might he but a sim- 
 ple weed. The parent, would be more gratified by such 
 variety, than if the whole bad acted on a concerted plan, 
 and each had made exactly the same offering. This would 
 have the cold appearance of contrivance, or the harsh one of 
 controul. But of all unwelcome things, nothing could more 
 afflict the parent than to know, that the. whole of them had 
 afterwards gotten together by the ears, boys and girls, fight- 
 ing, scratching, reviling, and abusing each other, about 
 which was the best or the worst present. 
 
 Why may we not suppose, that the great Father of all i9 
 pleased with variety of devotion ; and that the greatest of- 
 fence we can act, is that by which we seek to torment and 
 render each other miserable. For my own part, I am fully 
 satisfied that what I am now doing, with an endeavour to 
 conciliate mankind, to render their condition happy, to 
 unite Nations that have hitherto been enemies, and to extir- 
 pate the horrid practice of war, and break the chains of 
 slavery and oppression, is acceptable in His sight, and being 
 the best I can perform, Fact it cheerfully. 
 
 I do not believe that any two men, on what are called 
 doctrinal points, think alike who think at all. It is only 
 those who have not thought, that appear to agree. It is in 
 this case as with what is called the British Constitution. 
 It has been taken for granted to be good, and encomiums 
 have supplied the place of proof. But when the Nation 
 comes to examine into its principles and the abuses it admits, 
 it will be found to have more defects than I have pointed 
 out in this work and the former. 
 
 As to what are called National religions, we may, with aa 
 much propriety, talk of National gods. It is either political 
 craft, or the remains of the Pagan system, when every 
 Nation had its separate and particular deity. Among all 
 the writers of the English church clergy, who have treated 
 on the general subject of religion, the present Bishop of Lan- 
 daff has not been excelled, and it is with much pleasure 
 that I take the opportunity of expressing this token of 
 respect. 
 
 I have now gone through the whole of the subject, at 
 least-, as far as it appears to me at present. It has been mv 
 intention for the five years I have been in Europe, to offer 
 an idjresa to the People of England on the subject of
 
 US MGHT6 OF MAM. PART II. 
 
 Government, if the opportunity presented itself before I 
 returned to America. Mr. Burke has thrown it in my way, 
 and I thank him. On a certain occasion three years ago, I 
 pressed him to propose a National convention to be fairly 
 elected, for the purpose of taking the state of the Nation 
 into consideration ; but I found, that however strongly the 
 Parliamentary current was then setting against the party he 
 acted with, their policy was to keep every thing within 
 that field of corruption, and trust to accidents. Long expe- 
 rience had shewn that Parliaments would follow any change 
 of Ministers, and on this they rested their hopes and their 
 expectations. 
 
 Formerly, when divisions arose respecting Governments, 
 recourse was had to the sword, and a civil war ensued. 
 That savage custom is exploded by the new system, and 
 reference is had to National convention. Discussion and 
 the general will arbitrates the question, and to this, private 
 opinion yields with a good grace, and order is preserved 
 uninterrupted. 
 
 Some gentlemen have affected to call the principles upon 
 which this work and the former part of Rights of Man are 
 founded, " a new fangled doctrine." The question is not 
 whether these principles are new or old, but whether they 
 are right or wrong. Suppose the former, I will shew their 
 effect by a figure easily understood. 
 
 It is now towards the middle of February. Were I to 
 take a turn into the country, the trees would present a leaf- 
 less winterly appearance. As people are apt to pluck twigs 
 as they go along, I might do the same, and by chance might 
 observe, that a single bud on that twig had begun to swell. 
 I should reason very unnaturally, or rather not reason at all, 
 to suppose this was the only bud in England which had this 
 appearance. Instead of deciding thus, I should instantly 
 conclude, that the same appearance was beginning, or about 
 to begin, every where ; and though the vegetable sleep will 
 continue longer on some trees and plants than on others, 
 and though some of them may not blossom for two or three 
 years, all will be in leaf in the summer, except those which 
 are rotten. What pace the political summer may keep with 
 the natural, no human foresight can determine. It is, how- 
 ever, not difficult to perceive that the spring is begun. — 
 Thus wishing, as I sincerely do, freedom and happiness to 
 tfl Nations, I close the 
 
 SECOND PART.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 As the publication ©f this work has been delayed beyond 
 the time intended, I think it not improper, all circumstances 
 considered, to state the causes that have occasioned the 
 delay. 
 
 The reader will probably observe, that some parts in the 
 plan contained in this work for reducing the taxes, and cer- 
 tain parts in Mr. Pitt's speech at the opening of the present 
 session, Tuesday, January 3 1 , are so much alike, as to induce 
 a belief that either the Author had taken the hint from Mr. 
 Pitt, or Mr. Pitt from the Author. — I will first point out 
 the parts that are similar, and then state such circumstances 
 as I am acquainted with, leaving the reader to make his own 
 conclusion. 
 
 Considering it almost an unprecedented case, that taxes 
 should be proposed to be taken off, it is equally as extraor- 
 dinary that such a measure should occur to two persons at 
 the same time; and still more so, (considering the vast 
 variety and multiplicity of taxes) that they should hit on 
 the same specific taxes. Mr. Pitt has mentioned, in his 
 speech, the tax on Carts and Waggons — that on Female 
 Servants — the lowering the tax on Candles, and the taking 
 oft' the tax of three shillings on Houses having under seven 
 windows. 
 
 Every one of those specific taxes are a part of the plan 
 contained in this work, and proposed also to be taken off. 
 Mr. Pitt's plan it is true, goes no farther than to a reduction 
 of three hundred and twenty thousand pousds; and the 
 reduction proposed in this work to nearly six millions. I 
 have made my calculations on only sixteen millions and a 
 half of revenue, still asserting that it was " very nearly, if 
 not quite, seventeen millions." Mr. Pitt states it at 16,690,000. 
 I know enough of the matter to say, that he has not over- 
 stated it. Having thus given the particulars, which corre- 
 spond in this work and his speech, I will state a chain of 
 circumstances that may lead to some explanation. 
 
 The first hint for lessening the taxes, and that as a con- 
 sequence flowing from the French Revolution, is to be 
 found in the Address and Declaration of the Gentle- 
 men who met at the Tnatched-House Tavern, August 20, • 
 1791. Among other particulars stated in that Address, is 
 the following, put as an interrogation to the Government 
 opposers of the French Revolution. M Are they sorry that
 
 11 APPENDIX. v 
 
 the pretence for new oppressive taxes, and the occasion for con~ 
 tinuiug many old taxes will be at an end ?" 
 
 It is well known, that the persons who chiefly frequent 
 the Thatched-House Tavern, are men of Court connections, 
 and so much did they take this Address and Declaration 
 respecting the French Revolution and the reduction of taxes 
 in disgust, that the Landlord was under the necossity of 
 informing the Gentlemen, who composed the meeting of the 
 twentieth of August, and who proposed holding another 
 meeting, that he could not receive them*. 
 
 What was only hinted at in the Address and Declaration, 
 respecting taxes and principles of Government, will be 
 found reduced to a regular system in this work. But as 
 Mr. Pitt's speech contains some of the same things respect- 
 ing taxes, I now come to give the circumstances before al- 
 luded to. 
 
 The case is : This work was intended to be published 
 just before the meeting of Parliament, and for that purpose 
 a. considerable part of the copy was put into the printer's 
 hands in September, and all the remaining copy, so far as 
 page 16'0,f which contains the parts to which Mr. Pitt's 
 speech is similar, was given to him full six weeks before 
 the meeting of Parliament, and he was informed of the time 
 at which it was to appear. He had composed nearly the 
 whole about a fortnight before the time of Parliament meet- 
 ing, and had printed as far as page 112, and had given me a 
 
 * The gentleman who signed the address nnd declaration as 
 chairman of the meeting, Mr. Home Tooke, being generally sup- 
 posed to be the person who drew it up, and having spoken much 
 in commendation of it, has been jocularly accused of praising his 
 own work. To free him from this embarrassment, and to save him 
 the repeated trouble of mentioning the author, as he has not failed 
 to do, I make no hesitation in saying, that as the opportunity of 
 benefiting by the French Revolution easily occurred to me, I drew 
 up the publication in question, and shewed it to him and some other 
 gentlemen ; who fully approving it, held a meeting for the purpose 
 of making it public, and subscribed to the amount of fifty guineas 
 to defray 'the expence or advertising. I believe there are at this 
 time, in England, a greater number of men acting on disinterested 
 principles, and determined to look into the nature and practices 
 of Government themselves, and not blindly trust, as has hitherto 
 been the case, either to Government generally, or to Parliaments, 
 or to Parliamentary opposition, than at any former period. Had 
 this been done a century ago, con upturn and taxation had not ar- 
 rived to the height they are now at. 
 
 f This refers to the original octavo edition, .
 
 APPENDIX. Ill 
 
 proof of the next sheet, up to page 128. It was then in luf- 
 ficient forwardness to be out at the time proposed, as two 
 other sheets were ready for striking off. I had before told 
 him, that if he thought he should be straightened for time, 
 I would get part of the work done at another press, which 
 he desired me not to do. In this manner the work stood on 
 the Tuesday fortnight preceding the meeting of Parliament, 
 ■when all at once, without any previous intimation, though 
 I had been with him the evening before, he sent me, by one 
 of his workmen, all the remaining copy, from page 112, 
 declining to go on with the work on any consideration. 
 
 To account for this extraordinary conduct I was totally 
 at a loss, as he stopped at the part where the arguments on 
 systems and principles of Governments closed, and where 
 the plan for reduction of taxes, the education Of children, 
 and the support of the poor and the aged begins; and still 
 more especially, as he had, at the time of his beginning to 
 print, and before he had seen the whole copy, offered a 
 thousand pouuds for the copy-right, together with the 
 future copy-right of the former part of Rights of Man. I 
 told the person who brought me this offer that I should not 
 accept it, and wished it not to be renewed, giving them as 
 my reason, that though I believed the printer to be an 
 honest man, I would never put it in the power of any 
 printer or publisher to suppress or alter a work of mine, by 
 making him master of the copy, or give him the right of 
 selling it to any minister, or to any other person, or to treat 
 as a mere matter of traffic, that which I intended should 
 operate as a principle. 
 
 His refusal to complete the work (which he could not 
 purchase) obliged me to seek for another printer, and this 
 of consequence would throw the publication back till after 
 the meeting of Parliament, otherwise it would have ap- 
 peared that Mr. Pitt had only taken up a part of the plan 
 which I had more fully stated. 
 
 Whether that gentleman, or any other, had seen the 
 work, or any part of it, is more than I have authority to 
 say. But the manner in which the work was returned, and 
 the particular time at which this was done, and that after 
 the offers he had made, are suspicious circumstances. I 
 know what the opinion of booksellers and publishers is upon 
 such a case, but as to my own, I chuse to make no declara- 
 tion. There are many ways by which proof sheets may be 
 procured by other persons before a work publicly appears ; 
 to which I shall add a certain circumstance, which is, 
 A Ministerial bookseller in Piccadilly, who has beeu em*
 
 IV APPENDIX. 
 
 ployed, as common report says, by a clerk of one of the 
 boards closely connected with the Ministry (the board of 
 trade and plantation of which Hawksbury is President) to 
 publish what he calls my Life, (I wish that his own life and 
 the lives of all the Cabinet were as good) used to hav£ his 
 hooks printed at the &ame printing-office that I employed ; 
 but when the former part of Rights of Man came out, lie 
 took away his work in dudgeon ; and about a week or ten 
 days before the printer returned my copy, he came to make 
 him an ofler of his work again, which was accepted. This 
 would consequently give him admission into the printing- 
 office where the sheets of this work were then lying ; and as 
 booksellers and printers are free with each other, he would 
 have the opportunity of seeing what was going on. — Be the 
 case however as it may, Mr. Pitt's plan, little and diminu- 
 tive as it is, would have had a very awkward appearance, 
 had this work appeared at the time the printer had engaged 
 to finish it. 
 
 I have now stated the particulars which ocaasioned the 
 delay, from the proposal to purchase, to the refusal to print. 
 If all the Gantlemen are innocent, it is very unfortunate 
 for them that such a variety of suspicious circumstances 
 should, without any design, arrange themselves together. 
 
 Having now finished this part, I will conclude with sta- 
 ting another circumstance. 
 
 About a fortnight or three weeks before the meeting of 
 Parliament, a small addition, amounting to about twelve 
 shillings snd sixpence a year, was made to the pay of the 
 soldiers, or rather, their pay was docked so much less. Some 
 Gentlemen who knew, in part, that this work would contain 
 a plan of reform respecting the oppressed condition of 
 soldiers, wished me to add a note to the work, signifying, 
 that the part upon that subject had been in the printer's 
 hands some weeks before that addition of pay was proposed. 
 I declined doing this, lest it should be interpreted into an 
 air of vanity, or an endeavour to excite suspicion (for which, 
 perhaps, there might be no grounds) that some of the Go- 
 vernment gentlemen, had, by some means or other, made 
 out what this work would contain : and had not the print- 
 ing been interrupted so as to occasion a delay beyond the 
 time fixed for publication, nothing contained in this appen- 
 dix would have appeared. 
 
 THOMAS PAINE.
 
 
 
 To the Reader. 
 
 The following passage was accidentally omitted in page 25. 
 It ought to have been inserted between the second and third 
 paragraphs. 
 
 " All hereditary Government is in its nature tyranny. 
 An heritable Crown, or an heritable Throne, or by what 
 other fanciful name such things may be called, have no 
 other significant explanation than that mankind are heritable 
 property. To inherit a Government, is to inherit the 
 People, as if they were flocks and herds."
 
 Publications to be had at 183, Fleet-Street: 
 
 Sir Francis Burdett's Speech on Parliamentary Re- 
 form, 3c?. 
 
 Mr. Cobbett's Address to his Countrymen on his future 
 political writings, and their political affairs, 2d. N. B. This % 
 has not been published by any other publisher in this 
 country. 
 
 Wat Tyler, a Dramatic Poem, by Robrrt Southey, 
 Poet Laureate, 2d. upon common paper; 3d. upon fine. 
 
 The whole of the Parodies, consisting of the Political 
 Litany, John Wilkes's Catechism, the Political 
 Catechistm, the Sinecurist's Creed, the Bullet Tb 
 Deum, and the Order for the Administration of 
 the Loaves and Fishes. 
 
 The Contrast, being a verbatim copy of the two 
 Speeches, the one delivered by the President of the United 
 States to the Representatives of America, and the other 
 delivered to the Borough mongers of Great Britain, and 
 their Representatives. 
 
 *' Look here upon this picture, and on this." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 Sherwin's Political Register, Vol. 1. containing 
 twenty-six numbers, 5s. upon common paper, 7s. 6d. upon 
 fine. The Political Register is continued weekly, 
 and another volume will be completed in a few weeks. 
 
 PAINE'S WORKS. 
 
 A Letter to the People of England on the English 
 Invasion, 2d. upon common paper, 3d. upon fine. 
 
 A Letter to the Addressers on the Royal Proclama- 
 tion, is. upon common paper, Is. 6d. upon fine. 
 
 The American Crisis, 3s. 
 
 A Letter to the Abbe Raynal, 2s. upon common 
 paper, 2s. 6d. upon fine. 
 
 A portrait of Thomas Paine, very neatly executed, Is. 
 
 The whole of Paine's political works will be re-pub- 
 lished in a very short time, but those who wish to be pos- 
 sessed of a complete copy are recommended to secure them 
 on their coming out, as in consequence of the daily encreas- 
 ing demand, it is probable that there will not be a completes 
 set to be had by the tima the wJiole are published.
 
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