diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/62757-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62757-0.txt | 2915 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 2915 deletions
diff --git a/old/62757-0.txt b/old/62757-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 626cacb..0000000 --- a/old/62757-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2915 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A vindication of the rights of men, in a -letter to the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, by Mary Wollstonecraft - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A vindication of the rights of men, in a letter to the Right Honourable Edmund Burke; occasioned by his Reflections on the Revolution in France - -Author: Mary Wollstonecraft - -Release Date: July 25, 2020 [EBook #62757] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF MEN *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - A - VINDICATION - OF THE - RIGHTS OF MEN, - IN A - LETTER - TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE - _EDMUND BURKE_; - OCCASIONED BY - HIS REFLECTIONS - ON THE - REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. - - - _By MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT._ - - - THE SECOND EDITION. - - - _LONDON_: - - PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON. - NO. 72, ST. PAUL’S CHURCH-YARD. - - - M. DCC. XC. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ADVERTISEMENT. - - -Mr. Burke’s Reflections on the French Revolution first engaged my -attention as the transient topic of the day; and reading it more for -amusement than information, my indignation was roused by the sophistical -arguments, that every moment crossed me, in the questionable shape of -natural feelings and common sense. - -Many pages of the following letter were the effusions of the moment; -but, swelling imperceptibly to a considerable size, the idea was -suggested of publishing a short vindication of _the Rights of Men_. - -Not having leisure or patience to follow this desultory writer through -all the devious tracks in which his fancy has started fresh game, I have -confined my strictures, in a great measure, to the grand principles at -which he has levelled many ingenious arguments in a very specious garb. - - - - - A - LETTER - TO THE - _Right Honourable EDMUND BURKE_. - - - SIR, - -It is not necessary, with courtly insincerity, to apologise to you for -thus intruding on your precious time, not to profess that I think it an -honour to discuss an important subject with a man whose literary -abilities have raised him to notice in the state. I have not yet learned -to twist my periods, nor, in the equivocal idiom of politeness, to -disguise my sentiments, and imply what I should be afraid to utter: if, -therefore, in the course of this epistle, I chance to express contempt, -and even indignation, with some emphasis, I beseech you to believe that -it is not a flight of fancy; for truth, in morals, has ever appeared to -me the essence of the sublime; and, in taste, simplicity the only -criterion of the beautiful. But I war not with an individual when I -contend for the _rights of men_ and the liberty of reason. You see I do -not condescend to cull my words to avoid the invidious phrase, nor shall -I be prevented from giving a manly definition of it, by the flimsy -ridicule which a lively fancy has interwoven with the present -acceptation of the term. Reverencing the rights of humanity, I shall -dare to assert them; not intimidated by the horse laugh that you have -raised, or waiting till time has wiped away the compassionate tears -which you have elaborately laboured to excite. - -From the many just sentiments interspersed through the letter before me, -and from the whole tendency of it, I should believe you to be a good, -though a vain man, if some circumstances in your conduct did not render -the inflexibility of your integrity doubtful; and for this vanity a -knowledge of human nature enables me to discover such extenuating -circumstances, in the very texture of your mind, that I am ready to call -it amiable, and separate the public from the private character. - -I know that a lively imagination renders a man particularly calculated -to shine in conversation and in those desultory productions where method -is disregarded; and the instantaneous applause which his eloquence -extorts is at once a reward and a spur. Once a wit and always a wit, is -an aphorism that has received the sanction of experience; yet I am apt -to conclude that the man who with scrupulous anxiety endeavours to -support that shining character, can never nourish by reflection any -profound, or, if you please, metaphysical passion. Ambition becomes only -the tool of vanity, and his reason, the weather-cock of unrestrained -feelings, is only employed to varnish over the faults which it ought to -have corrected. - -Sacred, however, would the infirmities and errors of a good man be, in -my eyes, if they were only displayed in a private circle; if the venial -fault only rendered the wit anxious, like a celebrated beauty, to raise -admiration on every occasion, and excite emotion, instead of the calm -reciprocation of mutual esteem and unimpassioned respect. Such vanity -enlivens social intercourse, and forces the little great man to be -always on his guard to secure his throne; and an ingenious man, who is -ever on the watch for conquest, will, in his eagerness to exhibit his -whole store of knowledge, furnish an attentive observer with some useful -information, calcined by fancy and formed by taste. - -And though some dry reasoner might whisper that the arguments were -superficial, and should even add, that the feelings which are thus -ostentatiously displayed are often the cold declamation of the head, and -not the effusions of the heart—what will these shrewd remarks avail, -when the witty arguments and ornamental feelings are on a level with the -comprehension of the fashionable world, and a book is found very -amusing? Even the Ladies, Sir, may repeat your sprightly sallies, and -retail in theatrical attitudes many of your sentimental exclamations. -Sensibility is the _manie_ of the day, and compassion the virtue which -is to cover a multitude of vices, whilst justice is left to mourn in -sullen silence, and balance truth in vain. - -In life, an honest man with a confined understanding is frequently the -slave of his habits and the dupe of his feelings, whilst the man with a -clearer head and colder heart makes the passions of others bend to his -interest; but truly sublime is the character that acts from principle, -and governs the inferior springs of activity without slackening their -vigour; whose feelings give vital heat to his resolves, but never hurry -him into feverish eccentricities. - -However, as you have informed us that respect chills love, it is natural -to conclude, that all your pretty flights arise from your pampered -sensibility; and that, vain of this fancied pre-eminence of organs, you -foster every emotion till the fumes, mounting to your brain, dispel the -sober suggestions of reason. It is not in this view surprising, that -when you should argue you become impassioned, and that reflection -inflames your imagination, instead of enlightening your understanding. - -Quitting now the flowers of rhetoric, let us, Sir, reason together; and, -believe me, I should not have meddled with these troubled waters, in -order to point out your inconsistencies, if your wit had not burnished -up some rusty, baneful opinions, and swelled the shallow current of -ridicule till it resembled the flow of reason, and presumed to be the -test of truth. - -I shall not attempt to follow you through “horse-way and foot-path;” -but, attacking the foundation of your opinions, I shall leave the -superstructure to find a centre of gravity on which it may lean till -some strong blast puffs it into air; or your teeming fancy, which the -ripening judgment of sixty years has not tamed, produces another Chinese -erection, to stare, at every turn, the plain country people in the face, -who bluntly call such an airy edifice—a folly. - -The birthright of man, to give you, Sir, a short definition of this -disputed right, is such a degree of liberty, civil and religious, as is -compatible with the liberty of every other individual with whom he is -united in a social compact, and the continued existence of that compact. - -Liberty, in this simple, unsophisticated sense, I acknowledge, is a fair -idea that has never yet received a form in the various governments that -have been established on our beauteous globe; the demon of property has -ever been at hand to encroach on the sacred rights of men, and to fence -round with awful pomp laws that war with justice. But that it results -from the eternal foundation of right—from immutable truth—who will -presume to deny, that pretends to rationality—if reason has led them to -build their morality[1] and religion on an everlasting foundation—the -attributes of God? - -I glow with indignation when I attempt, methodically, to unravel your -slavish paradoxes, in which I can find no fixed first principle to -refute; I shall not, therefore, condescend to shew where you affirm in -one page what you deny in another; and how frequently you draw -conclusions without any previous premises:—it would be something like -cowardice to fight with a man who had never exercised the weapons with -which his opponent chose to combat, and irksome to refute sentence after -sentence in which the latent spirit of tyranny appeared. - -I perceive, from the whole tenor of your Reflections, that you have a -mortal antipathy to reason; but, if there is any thing like argument, or -first principles, in your wild declamation, behold the result:—that we -are to reverence the rust of antiquity, and term the unnatural customs, -which ignorance and mistaken self-interest have consolidated, the sage -fruit of experience: nay, that, if we do discover some errors, our -_feelings_ should lead us to excuse, with blind love, or unprincipled -filial affection, the venerable vestiges of ancient days. These are -gothic notions of beauty—the ivy is beautiful, but, when it insidiously -destroys the trunk from which it receives support, who would not grub it -up? - -Further, that we ought cautiously to remain for ever in frozen -inactivity, because a thaw, whilst it nourishes the soil, spreads a -temporary inundation; and the fear of risking any personal present -convenience should prevent a struggle for the most estimable advantages. -This is sound reasoning, I grant, in the mouth of the rich and -short-sighted. - -Yes, Sir, the strong gained riches, the few have sacrificed the many to -their vices; and, to be able to pamper their appetites, and supinely -exist without exercising mind or body, they have ceased to be men.—Lost -to the relish of true pleasure, such beings would, indeed, deserve -compassion, if injustice was not softened by the tyrant’s -plea—necessity; if prescription was not raised as an immortal boundary -against innovation. Their minds, in fact, instead of being cultivated, -have been so warped by education, that it may require some ages to bring -them back to nature, and enable them to see their true interest, with -that degree of conviction which is necessary to influence their conduct. - -The civilization which has taken place in Europe has been very partial, -and, like every custom that an arbitrary point of honour has -established, refines the manners at the expence of morals, by making -sentiments and opinions current in conversation that have no root in the -heart, or weight in the cooler resolves of the mind.—And what has -stopped its progress?—hereditary property—hereditary honours. The man -has been changed into an artificial monster by the station in which he -was born, and the consequent homage that benumbed his faculties like the -torpedo’s touch;—or a being, with a capacity of reasoning, would not -have failed to discover, as his faculties unfolded, that true happiness -arose from the friendship and intimacy which can only be enjoyed by -equals; and that charity is not a condescending distribution of alms, -but an intercourse of good offices and mutual benefits, founded on -respect for justice and humanity. - -Governed by these principles, the poor wretch, whose _inelegant_ -distress extorted from a mixed feeling of disgust and animal sympathy -present relief, would have been considered as a man, whose misery -demanded a part of his birthright, supposing him to be industrious; but -should his vices have reduced him to poverty, he could only have -addressed his fellow-men as weak beings, subject to like passions, who -ought to forgive, because they expect to be forgiven, for suffering the -impulse of the moment to silence the suggestions of conscience, or -reason, which you will; for, in my view of things, they are synonymous -terms. - -Will Mr. Burke be at the trouble to inform us, how far we are to go back -to discover the rights of men, since the light of reason is such a -fallacious guide that none but fools trust to its cold investigation? - -In the infancy of society, confining our view to our own country, -customs were established by the lawless power of an ambitious -individual; or a weak prince was obliged to comply with every demand of -the licentious barbarous insurgents, who disputed his authority with -irrefragable arguments at the point of their swords; or the more -specious requests of the Parliament, who only allowed him conditional -supplies. - -Are these the venerable pillars of our constitution? And is Magna Charta -to rest for its chief support on a former grant, which reverts to -another, till chaos becomes the base of the mighty structure—or we -cannot tell what?—for coherence, without some pervading principle of -order, is a solecism. - -Speaking of Edward the IIId. Hume observes, that ‘he was a prince of -great capacity, not governed by favourites, not led astray by any unruly -passion, sensible that nothing could be more essential to his interests -than to keep on good terms with his people: yet, on the whole, it -appears that the government, at best, was only a barbarous monarchy, not -regulated by any fixed maxims, or bounded by any certain or undisputed -rights, which in practice were regularly observed. The King conducted -himself by one set of principles; the Barons by another; the Commons by -a third; the Clergy by a fourth. All these systems of government were -opposite and incompatible: each of them prevailed in its turn, as -incidents were favourable to it: a great prince rendered the monarchical -power predominant: the weakness of a king gave reins to the aristocracy: -a superstitious age saw the clergy triumphant: the people, for whom -chiefly government was instituted, and who chiefly deserve -consideration, were the weakest of the whole.’ - -And just before that most auspicious æra, the fourteenth century, during -the reign of Richard II. whose total incapacity to manage the reins of -power, and keep in subjection his haughty Barons, rendered him a mere -cypher; the House of Commons, to whom he was obliged frequently to -apply, not only for subsidies but assistance to quell the insurrections -that the contempt in which he was held naturally produced, gradually -rose into power; for whenever they granted supplies to the King, they -demanded in return, though it bore the name of petition, a confirmation, -or the renewal of former charters, which had been infringed, and even -utterly disregarded by the King and his seditious Barons, who -principally held their independence of the crown by force of arms, and -the encouragement which they gave to robbers and villains, who infested -the country, and lived by rapine and violence. - -To what dreadful extremities were the poorer sort reduced, their -property, the fruit of their industry, being entirely at the disposal of -their lords, who were so many petty tyrants! - -In return for the supplies and assistance which the king received from -the commons, they demanded privileges, which Edward, in his distress for -money to prosecute the numerous wars in which he was engaged during the -greater part of his reign, was constrained to grant them; so that by -degrees they rose to power, and became a check on both king and nobles. -Thus was the foundation of our liberty established, chiefly through the -pressing necessities of the king, who was more intent on being supplied -for the moment, in order to carry on his wars and ambitious projects, -than aware of the blow he gave to kingly power, by thus making a body of -men feel their importance, who afterwards might strenuously oppose -tyranny and oppression, and effectually guard the subject’s property -from seizure and confiscation. Richard’s weakness completed what -Edward’s ambition began. - -At this period, it is true, Wickliffe opened a vista for reason by -attacking some of the most pernicious tenets of the church of Rome; -still the prospect was sufficiently misty to authorize the -question—Where was the dignity of thinking of the fourteenth century? - -A Roman Catholic, it is true, enlightened by the reformation, might, -with singular propriety, celebrate the epoch that preceded it, to turn -our thoughts from former atrocious enormities; but a Protestant must -acknowledge that this faint dawn of liberty only made the subsiding -darkness more visible; and that the boasted virtues of that century all -bear the stamp of stupid pride and headstrong barbarism. Civility was -then called condescension, and ostentatious almsgiving humanity; and men -were content to borrow their virtues, or, to speak with more propriety, -their consequence, from posterity, rather than undertake the arduous -task of acquiring it for themselves. - -The imperfection of all modern governments must, without waiting to -repeat the trite remark, that all human institutions are unavoidably -imperfect, in a great measure have arisen from this simple circumstance, -that the constitution, if such an heterogeneous mass deserve that name, -was settled in the dark days of ignorance, when the minds of men were -shackled by the grossest prejudices and most immoral superstition. And -do you, Sir, a sagacious philosopher, recommend night as the fittest -time to analyze a ray of light? - -Are we to seek for the rights of men in the ages when a few marks were -the only penalty imposed for the life of a man, and death for death when -the property of the rich was touched? when—I blush to discover the -depravity of our nature—when a deer was killed! Are these the laws that -it is natural to love, and sacrilegious to invade?—Were the rights of -men understood when the law authorized or tolerated murder?—or is power -and right the same in your creed? - -But in fact all your declamation leads so directly to this conclusion, -that I beseech you to ask your own heart, when you call yourself a -friend of liberty, whether it would not be more consistent to style -yourself the champion of property, the adorer of the golden image which -power has set up?—And, when you are examining your heart, if it would -not be too much like mathematical drudgery, to which a fine imagination -very reluctantly stoops, enquire further, how it is consistent with the -vulgar notions of honesty, and the foundation of morality—truth; for a -man to boast of his virtue and independence, when he cannot forget that -he is at the moment enjoying the wages of falsehood[2]; and that, in a -skulking, unmanly way, he has secured himself a pension of fifteen -hundred pounds per annum on the Irish establishment? Do honest men, Sir, -for I am not rising to the refined principle of honour, ever receive the -reward of their public services, or secret assistance, in the name of -_another_? - -But to return from a digression which you will more perfectly understand -than any of my readers—on what principle you, Sir, can justify the -reformation, which tore up by the roots an old establishment, I cannot -guess—but, I beg your pardon, perhaps you do not wish to justify it—and -have some mental reservation to excuse you, to yourself, for not openly -avowing your reverence. Or, to go further back;—had you been a Jew—you -would have joined in the cry, crucify him!—crucify him! The promulgator -of a new doctrine, and the violator of old laws and customs, that not -melting, like ours, into darkness and ignorance, rested on Divine -authority, must have been a dangerous innovator, in your eyes, -particularly if you had not been informed that the Carpenter’s Son was -of the stock and lineage of David. But there is no end to the arguments -which might be deduced to combat such palpable absurdities, by shewing -the manifest inconsistencies which are necessarily involved in a direful -train of false opinions. - -It is necessary emphatically to repeat, that there are rights which men -inherit at their birth, as rational creatures, who were raised above the -brute creation by their improvable faculties; and that, in receiving -these, not from their forefathers but, from God, prescription can never -undermine natural rights. - -A father may dissipate his property without his child having any right -to complain;—but should he attempt to sell him for a slave, or fetter -him with laws contrary to reason; nature, in enabling him to discern -good from evil, teaches him to break the ignoble chain, and not to -believe that bread becomes flesh, and wine blood, because his parents -swallowed the Eucharist with this blind persuasion. - -There is no end to this implicit submission to authority—some where it -must stop, or we return to barbarism; and the capacity of improvement, -which gives us a natural sceptre on earth, is a cheat, an ignis-fatuus, -that leads us from inviting meadows into bogs and dunghills. And if it -be allowed that many of the precautions, with which any alteration was -made, in our government, were prudent, it rather proves its weakness -than substantiates an opinion of the soundness of the stamina, or the -excellence of the constitution. - -But on what principle Mr. Burke could defend American independence, I -cannot conceive; for the whole tenor of his plausible arguments settles -slavery on an everlasting foundation. Allowing his servile reverence for -antiquity, and prudent attention to self-interest, to have the force -which he insists on, the slave trade ought never to be abolished; and, -because our ignorant forefathers, not understanding the native dignity -of man, sanctioned a traffic that outrages every suggestion of reason -and religion, we are to submit to the inhuman custom, and term an -atrocious insult to humanity the love of our country, and a proper -submission to the laws by which our property is secured.—Security of -property! Behold, in a few words, the definition of English liberty. And -to this selfish principle every nobler one is sacrificed.—The Briton -takes place of the man, and the image of God is lost in the citizen! But -it is not that enthusiastic flame which in Greece and Rome consumed -every sordid passion: no, self is the focus; and the disparting rays -rise not above our foggy atmosphere. But softly—it is only the property -of the rich that is secure; the man who lives by the sweat of his brow -has no asylum from oppression; the strong man may enter—when was the -castle of the poor sacred? and the base informer steal him from the -family that depend on his industry for subsistence. - -Fully sensible as you must be of the baneful consequences that -inevitably follow this notorious infringement on the dearest rights of -men, and that it is an infernal blot on the very face of our immaculate -constitution, I cannot avoid expressing my surprise that when you -recommended our form of government as a model, you did not caution the -French against the arbitrary custom of pressing men for the sea service. -You should have hinted to them, that property in England is much more -secure than liberty, and not have concealed that the liberty of an -honest mechanic—his all—is often sacrificed to secure the property of -the rich. For it is a farce to pretend that a man fights _for his -country, his hearth, or his altars_, when he has neither liberty nor -property.—His property is in his nervous arms—and they are compelled to -pull a strange rope at the surly command of a tyrannic boy, who probably -obtained his rank on account of his family connections, or the -prostituted vote of his father, whose interest in a borough, or voice as -a senator, was acceptable to the minister. - -Our penal laws punish with death the thief who steals a few pounds; but -to take by violence, or trepan, a man, is no such heinous offence.—For -who shall dare to complain of the venerable vestige of the law that -rendered the life of a deer more sacred than that of a man? But it was -the poor man with only his native dignity who was thus oppressed—and -only metaphysical sophists and cold mathematicians can discern this -insubstantial form; it is a work of abstraction—and a _gentleman_ of -lively imagination must borrow some drapery from fancy before he can -love or pity a _man_.—Misery, to reach your heart, I perceive, must have -its cap and bells; your tears are reserved, very _naturally_ considering -your character, for the declamation of the theatre, or for the downfall -of queens, whose rank alters the nature of folly, and throws a graceful -veil over vices that degrade humanity; whilst the distress of many -industrious mothers, whose _helpmates_ have been torn from them, and the -hungry cry of helpless babes, were vulgar sorrows that could not move -your commiseration, though they might extort an alms. ‘The tears that -are shed for fictitious sorrow are admirably adapted,’ says Rousseau, -‘to make us proud of all the virtues which we do not possess.’ - -The baneful effects of the despotic practice of pressing we shall, in -all probability, soon feel; for a number of men, who have been taken -from their daily employments, will shortly be let loose on society, now -that there is no longer any apprehension of a war. - -The vulgar, and by this epithet I mean not only to describe a class of -people, who, working to support the body, have not had time to cultivate -their minds; but likewise those who, born in the lap of affluence, have -never had their invention sharpened by necessity are, nine out of ten, -the creatures of habit and impulse. - -If I were not afraid to derange your nervous system by the bare mention -of a metaphysical enquiry, I should observe, Sir, that self-preservation -is, literally speaking, the first law of nature; and that the care -necessary to support and guard the body is the first step to unfold the -mind, and inspire a manly spirit of independence. The mewing babe in -swaddling clothes, who is treated like a superior being, may perchance -become a gentleman; but nature must have given him uncommon faculties -if, when pleasure hangs on every bough, he has sufficient fortitude -either to exercise his mind or body in order to acquire personal merit. -The passions are necessary auxiliaries of reason: a present impulse -pushes us forward, and when we discover that the game did not deserve -the chace, we find that we have gone over much ground, and not only -gained many new ideas, but a habit of thinking. The exercise of our -faculties is the great end, though not the goal we had in view when we -started with such eagerness. - -It would be straying still further into metaphysics to add, that this is -one of the strongest arguments for the natural immortality of the -soul.—Every thing looks like a means, nothing like an end, or point of -rest, when we can say, now let us sit down and enjoy the present moment; -our faculties and wishes are proportioned to the present scene; we may -return without repining to our sister clod. And, if no conscious dignity -whisper that we are capable of relishing more refined pleasures, the -thirst of truth appears to be allayed; and thought, the faint type of an -immaterial energy, no longer bounding it knows not where, is confined to -the tenement that affords it sufficient variety.—The rich man may then -thank his God that he is not like other men—but when is retribution to -be made to the miserable, who cry day and night for help, and there is -no one at hand to help them? And not only misery but immorality proceeds -from this stretch of arbitrary authority. The vulgar have not the power -of emptying their mind of the only ideas they imbibed whilst their hands -were employed; they cannot quickly turn from one kind of life to -another. Pressing them entirely unhinges their minds; they acquire new -habits, and cannot return to their old occupations with their former -readiness; consequently they fall into idleness, drunkenness, and the -whole train of vices which you stigmatise as gross. - -A government that acts in this manner cannot be called a good parent, -nor inspire natural (habitual is the proper word) affection, in the -breasts of children who are thus disregarded. - -The game laws are almost as oppressive to the peasantry as -press-warrants to the mechanic. In this land of liberty what is to -secure the property of the poor farmer when his noble landlord chooses -to plant a decoy field near his little property? Game devour the fruit -of his labour; but fines and imprisonment await him if he dare to kill -any—or lift up his hand to interrupt the pleasure of his lord. How many -families have been plunged, in the _sporting_ countries, into misery and -vice for some paltry transgression of these coercive laws, by the -natural consequence of that anger which a man feels when he sees the -reward of his industry laid waste by unfeeling luxury?—when his -children’s bread is given to dogs! - -You have shewn, Sir, by your silence on these subjects, that your -respect for rank has swallowed up the common feelings of humanity; you -seem to consider the poor as only the live stock of an estate, the -feather of hereditary nobility. When you had so little respect for the -silent majesty of misery, I am not surprised at your manner of treating -an individual whose brow a mitre will never grace, and whose popularity -may have wounded your vanity—for vanity is ever fore. Even in France, -Sir, before the revolution, literary celebrity procured a man the -treatment of a gentleman; but you are going back for your credentials of -politeness to more distant times.—Gothic affability is the mode you -think proper to adopt, the condescension of a Baron, not the civility of -a liberal man. Politeness is, indeed, the only substitute for humanity; -or what distinguishes the civilised man from the unlettered savage? and -he who is not governed by reason should square his behaviour by an -arbitrary standard; but by what rule your attack on Dr. Price was -regulated we have yet to learn. - -I agree with you, Sir, that the pulpit is not the place for political -discussions, though it might be more excusable to enter on such a -subject, when the day was set apart merely to commemorate a political -revolution, and no stated duty was encroached upon. I will, however, -wave this point, and allow that Dr. Price’s zeal may have carried him -further than sound reason can justify. I do also most cordially coincide -with you, that till we can see the remote consequences of things, -present calamities must appear in the ugly form of evil, and excite our -commiseration. The good that time slowly educes from them may be hid -from mortal eye, or dimly seen; whilst sympathy compels man to feel for -man, and almost restrains the hand that would amputate a limb to save -the whole body. But, after making this concession, allow me to -expostulate with you, and calmly hold up the glass which will shew you -your partial feelings. - -In reprobating Dr. Price’s opinions you might have spared the man; and -if you had had but half as much reverence for the grey hairs of virtue -as for the accidental distinctions of rank, you would not have treated -with such indecent familiarity and supercilious contempt, a member of -the community whose talents and modest virtues place him high in the -scale of moral excellence. I am not accustomed to look up with vulgar -awe, even when mental superiority exalts a man above his fellows; but -still the sight of a man whose habits are fixed by piety and reason, and -whose virtues are consolidated into goodness, commands my homage—and I -should touch his errors with a tender hand when I made a parade of my -sensibility. Granting, for a moment, that Dr. Price’s political opinions -are Utopian reveries, and that the world is not yet sufficiently -civilized to adopt such a sublime system of morality; they could, -however, only be the reveries of a benevolent mind. Tottering on the -verge of the grave, that worthy man in his whole life never dreamt of -struggling for power or riches; and, if a glimpse of the glad dawn of -liberty rekindled the fire of youth in his veins, you, who could not -stand the fascinating glance of a _great_ Lady’s eyes, when neither -virtue nor sense beamed in them, might have pardoned his unseemly -transport,—if such it must be deemed. - -I could almost fancy that I now see this respectable old man, in his -pulpit, with hands clasped, and eyes devoutly fixed, praying with all -the simple energy of unaffected piety; or, when more erect, inculcating -the dignity of virtue, and enforcing the doctrines his life adorns; -benevolence animated each feature, and persuasion attuned his accents; -the preacher grew eloquent, who only laboured to be clear; and the -respect that he extorted, seemed only the respect due to personified -virtue and matured wisdom.—Is this the man you brand with so many -opprobrious epithets? he whose private life will stand the test of the -strictest enquiry—away with such unmanly sarcasms, and puerile -conceits.—But, before I close this part of my animadversions, I must -convict you of wilful misrepresentation and wanton abuse. - -Dr. Price, when he reasons on the necessity of men attending some place -of public worship, concisely obviates an objection that has been made in -the form of an apology, by advising those, who do not approve of our -Liturgy, and cannot find any mode of worship out of the church, in which -they can conscientiously join, to establish one for themselves. This -plain advice you have tortured into a very different meaning, and -represented the preacher as actuated by a dissenting phrensy, -recommending dissensions, ‘not to diffuse truth, but to spread -contradictions[3].’ A simple question will silence this impertinent -declamation.—What is truth? A few fundamental truths meet the first -enquiry of reason, and appear as clear to an unwarped mind, as that air -and bread are necessary to enable the body to fulfil its vital -functions; but the opinions which men discuss with so much heat must be -simplified and brought back to first principles; or who can discriminate -the vagaries of the imagination, or scrupulosity of weakness, from the -verdict of reason? Let all these points be demonstrated, and not -determined by arbitrary authority and dark traditions, lest a dangerous -supineness should take place; for probably, in ceasing to enquire, our -reason would remain dormant, and delivered up, without a curb, to every -impulse of passion, we might soon lose sight of the clear light which -the exercise of our understanding no longer kept alive. To argue from -experience, it should seem as if the human mind, averse to thought, -could only be opened by necessity; for, when it can take opinions on -trust, it gladly lets the spirit lie quiet in its gross tenement. -Perhaps the most improving exercise of the mind, confining the argument -to the enlargement of the understanding, is the restless enquiries that -hover on the boundary, or stretch over the dark abyss of uncertainty. -These lively conjectures are the breezes that preserve the still lake -from stagnating. We should be aware of confining all moral excellence to -one channel, however capacious; or, if we are so narrow-minded, we -should not forget how much we owe to chance that our inheritance was not -Mahometism; and that the iron hand of destiny, in the shape of deeply -rooted authority, has not suspended the sword of destruction over our -heads. But to return to the misrepresentation. - -[4]Blackstone, to whom Mr. Burke pays great deference, seems to agree -with Dr. Price, that the succession of the King of Great Britain depends -on the choice of the people, or that they have a power to cut it off; -but this power, as you have fully proved, has been cautiously exerted, -and might with more propriety be termed a _right_ than a power. Be it -so!—yet when you elaborately cited precedents to shew that our -forefathers paid great respect to hereditary claims, you might have gone -back to your favourite epoch, and shewn their respect for a church that -fulminating laws have since loaded with opprobrium. The preponderance of -inconsistencies, when weighed with precedents, should lessen the most -bigoted veneration for antiquity, and force men of the eighteenth -century to acknowledge, that our _canonized forefathers_ were unable, or -afraid, to revert to reason, without resting on the crutch of authority; -and should not be brought as a proof that their children are never to be -allowed to walk alone. - -When we doubt the infallible wisdom of our ancestors, it is only -advancing on the same ground to doubt the sincerity of the law, and the -propriety of that servile appellation—OUR SOVEREIGN LORD THE KING. Who -were the dictators of this adulatory language of the law? Were they not -courtly parasites and worldly priests? Besides, whoever at divine -service, whose feelings were not deadened by habit, or their -understandings quiescent, ever repeated without horror the same epithets -applied to a man and his Creator? If this is confused jargon—say what -are the dictates of sober reason, or the criterion to distinguish -nonsense? - -You further sarcastically animadvert on the consistency of the -democratists, by wresting the obvious meaning of a common phrase, _the -dregs of the people_; or your contempt for poverty may have led you into -an error. Be that as it may, an unprejudiced man would have directly -perceived the single sense of the word, and an old Member of Parliament -could scarcely have missed it. He who had so often felt the pulse of the -electors needed not have gone beyond his own experience to discover that -the dregs alluded to were the vicious, and not the lower class of the -community. - -Again, Sir, I must doubt your sincerity or your discernment.—You have -been behind the curtain; and, though it might be difficult to bring back -your sophisticated heart to nature and make you feel like a man, yet the -awestruck confusion in which you were plunged must have gone off when -the vulgar emotion of wonder, excited by finding yourself a Senator, had -subsided. Then you must have seen the clogged wheels of corruption -continually oiled by the sweat of the laborious poor, squeezed out of -them by unceasing taxation. You must have discovered that the majority -in the House of Commons was often purchased by the crown, and that the -people were oppressed by the influence of their own money, extorted by -the venal voice of a packed representation. - -You must have known that a man of merit cannot rise in the church, the -army, or navy, unless he has some interest in a borough; and that even a -paltry exciseman’s place can only be secured by electioneering interest. -I will go further, and assert that few Bishops, though there have been -learned and good Bishops, have gained the mitre without submitting to a -servility of dependence that degrades the man.—All these circumstances -you must have known, yet you talk of virtue and liberty, as the vulgar -talk of the letter of the law; and the polite of propriety. It is true -that these ceremonial observances produce decorum; the sepulchres are -white-washed, and do not offend the squeamish eyes of high rank; but -virtue is out of the question when you only worship a shadow, and -worship it to secure your property. - -Man has been termed, with strict propriety, a microcosm, a little world -in himself.—He is so;—yet must, however, be reckoned an ephemera, or, to -adopt your figure of rhetoric, a summer’s fly. The perpetuation of -property in our families is one of the privileges you most warmly -contend for; yet it would not be very difficult to prove that the mind -must have a very limited range that thus confines its benevolence to -such a narrow circle, which, with great propriety, may be included in -the sordid calculations of blind self-love. - -A brutal attachment to children has appeared most conspicuous in parents -who have treated them like slaves, and demanded due homage for all the -property they transferred to them, during their lives. It has led them -to force their children to break the most sacred ties; to do violence to -a natural impulse, and run into legal prostitution to increase wealth or -shun poverty; and, still worse, the dread of parental malediction has -made many weak characters violate truth in the face of Heaven; and, to -avoid a father’s angry curse, the most sacred promises have been broken. -It appears to be a natural suggestion of reason, that a man should be -freed from implicit obedience to parents and private punishments, when -he is of an age to be subject to the jurisdiction of the laws of his -country; and that the barbarous cruelty of allowing parents to imprison -their children, to prevent their contaminating their noble blood by -following the dictates of nature when they chose to marry, or for any -misdemeanor that does not come under the cognizance of public justice, -is one of the most arbitrary violations of liberty. - -Who can recount all the unnatural crimes which the _laudable_, -_interesting_ desire of perpetuating a name has produced? The younger -children have been sacrificed to the eldest son; sent into exile, or -confined in convents, that they might not encroach on what was called, -with shameful falsehood, the _family_ estate. Will Mr. Burke call this -parental affection reasonable or virtuous?—No; it is the spurious -offspring of over-weening, mistaken pride—and not that first source of -civilization, natural parental affection, that makes no difference -between child and child, but what reason justifies by pointing out -superior merit. - -Another pernicious consequence which unavoidably arises from this -artificial affection is, the insuperable bar which it puts in the way of -early marriages. It would be difficult to determine whether the minds or -bodies of our youth are most injured by this impediment. Our young men -become selfish coxcombs, and gallantry with modest women, and intrigues -with those of another description, weaken both mind and body, before -either has arrived at maturity. The character of a master of a family, a -husband, and a father, forms the citizen imperceptibly, by producing a -sober manliness of thought, and orderly behaviour; but, from the lax -morals and depraved affections of the libertine, what results?—a finical -man of taste, who is only anxious to secure his own private -gratifications, and to maintain his rank in society. - -The same system has an equally pernicious effect on female morals.—Girls -are sacrificed to family convenience, or else marry to settle themselves -in a superior rank, and coquet, without restraint, with the fine -gentleman whom I have already described. And to such lengths has this -vanity, this desire of shining, carried them, that it is not now -necessary to guard girls against imprudent love matches; for if some -widows did not now and then _fall_ in love, Love and Hymen would seldom -meet, unless at a village church. - -I do not intend to be sarcastically paradoxical when I say, that women -of fashion take husbands that they may have it in their power to coquet, -the grand business of genteel life, with a number of admirers, and thus -flutter the spring of life away, without laying up any store for the -winter of age, or being of any use to society. Affection in the marriage -state can only be founded on respect—and are these weak beings -respectable? Children are neglected for lovers, and we express surprise -that adulteries are so common! A woman never forgets to adorn herself to -make an impression on the senses of the other sex, and to extort the -homage which it is gallant to pay, and yet we wonder that they have such -confined understandings! - -Have ye not heard that we cannot serve two masters? an immoderate desire -to please contracts the faculties, and immerges, to borrow the idea of a -great philosopher, the soul in matter, till it becomes unable to mount -on the wing of contemplation. - -It would be an arduous task to trace all the vice and misery that arise -in society from the middle class of people apeing the manners of the -great. All are aiming to procure respect on account of their property; -and most places are considered as sinecures that enable men to start -into notice. The grand concern of three parts out of four is to contrive -to live above their equals, and to appear to be richer than they are. -How much domestic comfort and private satisfaction is sacrificed to this -irrational ambition! It is a destructive mildew that blights the fairest -virtues; benevolence, friendship, generosity, and all those endearing -charities which bind human hearts together, and the pursuits which raise -the mind to higher contemplations, all that were not cankered in the bud -by the false notions that ‘grew with its growth and strengthened with -its strength,’ are crushed by the iron hand of property! - -Property, I do not scruple to aver it, should be fluctuating, which -would be the case, if it were more equally divided amongst all the -children of a family; else it is an everlasting rampart, in consequence -of a barbarous feudal institution, that enables the elder son to -overpower talents and depress virtue. - -Besides, an unmanly servility, most inimical to true dignity of -character is, by this means, fostered in society. Men of some abilities -play on the follies of the rich, and mounting to fortune as they degrade -themselves, they stand in the way of men of superior talents, who cannot -advance in such crooked paths, or wade through the filth which -_parasites_ never boggle at. Pursuing their way straight forward, their -spirit is either bent or broken by the rich man’s contumelies, or the -difficulties they have to encounter. - -The only security of property that nature authorizes and reason -sanctions is, the right a man has to enjoy the acquisitions which his -talents and industry have acquired; and to bequeath them to whom he -chooses. Happy would it be for the world if there were no other road to -wealth or honour; if pride, in the shape of parental affection, did not -absorb the man, and prevent friendship from having the same weight as -relationship. Luxury and effeminacy would not then introduce so much -idiotism into the noble families which form one of the pillars of our -state: the ground would not lie fallow, nor would undirected activity of -mind spread the contagion of restless idleness, and its concomitant, -vice, through the whole mass of society. - -Instead of gaming they might nourish a virtuous ambition, and love might -take place of the gallantry which you, with knightly fealty, venerate. -Women would probably then act like mothers, and the fine lady, become a -rational woman, might think it necessary to superintend her family and -suckle her children, in order to fulfil her part of the social compact. -But vain is the hope, whilst great masses of property are hedged round -by hereditary honours; for numberless vices, forced in the hot-bed of -wealth, assume a sightly form to dazzle the senses and cloud the -understanding. The respect paid to rank and fortune damps every generous -purpose of the soul, and stifles the natural affections on which human -contentment ought to be built. Who will venturously ascend the steeps of -virtue, or explore the great deep for knowledge, when _the one thing -needful_, attained by less arduous exertions, if not inherited, procures -the attention man naturally pants after, and vice ‘loses half its evil -by losing all its grossness[5].’—What a sentiment to come from a moral -pen! - -A surgeon would tell you that by skinning over a wound you spread -disease through the whole frame; and, surely, they indirectly aim at -destroying all purity of morals, who poison the very source of virtue, -by smearing a sentimental varnish over vice, to hide its natural -deformity. Stealing, whoring, and drunkenness, are gross vices, I -presume, though they may not obliterate every moral sentiment, and have -a vulgar brand that makes them appear with all their native deformity; -but overreaching, adultery, and coquetry, are venial offences, though -they reduce virtue to an empty name, and make wisdom consist in saving -appearances. - -‘On this scheme of things[6] a king _is_ but a man; a queen _is_ but a -woman; a woman _is_ but an animal, and an animal not of the highest -order.’—All true, Sir; if she is not more attentive to the duties of -humanity than queens and fashionable ladies in general are, I will still -further accede to the opinion you have so justly conceived of the spirit -which begins to animate this age.—‘All homage paid to the sex in -general, as such, and without distinct views, is to be regarded as -_romance_ and folly.’ Undoubtedly; because such homage vitiates them, -prevents their endeavouring to obtain solid personal merit; and, in -short, makes those beings vain inconsiderate dolls, who ought to be -prudent mothers and useful members of society. ‘Regicide and sacrilege -are but fictions of superstition corrupting jurisprudence, by destroying -its simplicity. The murder of a king, or a queen, or a bishop, are only -common homicide.’—Again I agree with you; but you perceive, Sir, that by -leaving out the word _father_, I think the whole extent of the -comparison invidious. - -You further proceed grossly to misrepresent Dr. Price’s meaning; and, -with an affectation of holy fervour, express your indignation at his -profaning a beautiful rapturous ejaculation, when alluding to the King -of France’s submission to the National Assembly[7]; he rejoiced to hail -a glorious revolution, which promised an universal diffusion of liberty -and happiness. - -Observe, Sir, that I called your piety affectation.—A rant to enable you -to point your venomous dart, and round your period. I speak with warmth, -because, of all hypocrites, my soul most indignantly spurns a religious -one;—and I very cautiously bring forward such a heavy charge, to strip -you of your cloak of sanctity. Your speech at the time the bill for a -regency was agitated now lies before me.—_Then_ you could in direct -terms, to promote ambitious or interested views, exclaim without any -pious qualms—‘Ought they to make a mockery of him, putting a crown of -thorns on his head, a reed in his hand, and dressing him in a raiment of -purple, cry, Hail! King of the British!’ Where was your sensibility when -you could utter this cruel mockery, equally insulting to God and man? Go -hence, thou slave of impulse, look into the private recesses of thy -heart, and take not a mote from thy brother’s eye, till thou hast -removed the beam from thine own. - -Of your partial feelings I shall take another view, and shew that -‘following nature, which is,’ you say, ‘wisdom without reflection, and -_above it_’—has led you into great inconsistences, to use the softest -phrase. When, on a late melancholy occasion, a very important question -was agitated, with what indecent warmth did _you_ treat a woman, for I -shall not lay any stress on her title, whose conduct in life has -deserved praise, though not, perhaps, the servile elogiums which have -been lavished on the queen. But sympathy, and you tell us that you have -a heart of flesh, was made to give way to party spirit, and the feelings -of a man, not to allude to your romantic gallantry, to the views of the -statesman. When you descanted on the horrors of the 6th of October, and -gave a glowing, and, in some instances, a most exaggerated description -of that infernal night, without having troubled yourself to clean your -palette, you might have returned home and indulged us with a sketch of -the misery you personally aggravated. - -With what eloquence might you not have insinuated, that the sight of -unexpected misery and strange reverse of fortune makes the mind recoil -on itself; and, pondering, traced the uncertainty of all human hope, the -frail foundation of sublunary grandeur! What a climax lay before you. A -father torn from his children,—a husband from an affectionate wife,—a -man from himself! And not torn by the resistless stroke of death, for -time would then have lent its aid to mitigate remediless sorrow; but -that living death, which only kept hope alive in the corroding form of -suspense, was a calamity that called for all your pity. - -The sight of august ruins, of a depopulated country—what are they to a -disordered soul! when all the faculties are mixed in wild confusion. It -is then indeed we tremble for humanity—and, if some wild fancy chance to -cross the brain, we fearfully start, and pressing our hand against our -brow, ask if we are yet men?—if our reason is undisturbed?—if judgment -hold the helm? Marius might sit with dignity on the ruins of Carthage, -and the wretch in the Bastille, who longed in vain to see the human face -divine, might yet view the operations of his own mind, and vary the -leaden prospect by new combinations of thought: poverty, shame, and even -slavery, may be endured by the virtuous man—he has still a world to -range in—but the loss of reason appears a monstrous flaw in the moral -world, that eludes all investigation, and humbles without enlightening. - -In this state was the King, when you, with unfeeling disrespect, and -indecent haste, wished to strip him of all his hereditary honours.—You -were so eager to taste the sweets of power, that you could not wait till -time had determined, whether a dreadful delirium would settle into a -confirmed madness; but, prying into the secrets of Omnipotence, you -thundered out that God had _hurled him from his throne_, and that it was -the most insulting mockery to recollect that he had been a king, or to -treat him with any particular respect on account of his former -dignity.—And who was the monster whom Heaven had thus awfully deposed, -and smitten with such an angry blow? Surely as harmless a character as -Lewis XVIth; and the queen of Great Britain, though her heart may not be -enlarged by generosity, who will presume to compare her character with -that of the queen of France? - -Where then was the infallibility of that extolled instinct which rises -above reason? was it warped by vanity, or _hurled_ from its throne by -self-interest? To your own heart answer these questions in the sober -hours of reflection—and, after reviewing this gust of passion, learn to -respect the sovereignty of reason. - -I have, Sir, been reading, with a scrutinizing, comparative eye, several -of your insensible and profane speeches during the King’s illness. I -disdain to take advantage of a man’s weak side, or draw consequences -from an unguarded transport—A lion preys not on carcasses! But on this -occasion you acted systematically. It was not the passion of the moment, -over which humanity draws a veil: no; what but the odious maxims of -Machiavelian policy could have led you to have searched in the very -dregs of misery for forcible arguments to support your party? Had not -vanity or interest steeled your heart, you would have been shocked at -the cold insensibility which could carry a man to those dreadful -mansions, where human weakness appears in its most awful form to -_calculate_ the chances against the King’s recovery. Impressed as _you -are_ with respect for royalty, I am astonished that you did not tremble -at every step, lest Heaven should avenge on your guilty head the insult -offered to its vicegerent. But the conscience that is under the -direction of transient ebullitions of feeling, is not very tender or -consistent, when the current runs another way. - -Had you been in a philosophizing mood, had your heart or your reason -been at home, you might have been convinced, by ocular demonstration, -that madness is only the absence of reason.—The ruling angel leaving its -seat, wild anarchy ensues. You would have seen that the uncontrouled -imagination often pursues the most regular course in its most daring -flight; and that the eccentricities are boldly relieved when judgment no -longer officiously arranges the sentiments, by bringing them to the test -of principles. You would have seen every thing out of nature in that -strange chaos of levity and ferocity, and of all sorts of follies -jumbled together. You would have seen in that monstrous tragi-comic -scene the most opposite passions necessarily succeed, and sometimes mix -with each other in the mind; alternate contempt and indignation; -alternate laughter and tears; alternate scorn and horror[8].—This is a -true picture of that chaotic state of mind, called madness; when reason -gone, we know not where, the wild elements of passion clash, and all is -horror and confusion. You might have heard the best turned conceits, -flash following flash, and doubted whether the rhapsody was not -eloquent, if it had not been delivered in an equivocal language, neither -verse nor prose, if the sparkling periods had not stood alone, wanting -force because they wanted concatenation. - -It is a proverbial observation, that a very thin partition divides wit -and madness. Poetry therefore naturally addresses the fancy, and the -language of passion is with great felicity borrowed from the heightened -picture which the imagination draws of sensible objects concentred by -impassioned reflection. And, during this ‘fine phrensy,’ reason has no -right to rein-in the imagination, unless to prevent the introduction of -supernumerary images; if the passion is real, the head will not be -ransacked for stale tropes and cold rodomontade. I now speak of the -genuine enthusiasm of genius, which, perhaps, seldom appears, but in the -infancy of civilization; for as this light becomes more luminous reason -clips the wing of fancy—the youth becomes a man. - -Whether the glory of Europe is set, I shall not now enquire; but -probably the spirit of romance and chivalry is in the wane; and reason -will gain by its extinction. - -From observing several cold romantic characters I have been led to -confine the term romantic to one definition—false, or rather artificial, -feelings. Works of genius are read with a prepossession in their favour, -and sentiments imitated, because they were fashionable and pretty, and -not because they were forcibly felt. - -In modern poetry the understanding and memory often fabricate the -pretended effusions of the heart, and romance destroys all simplicity; -which, in works of taste, is but a synonymous word for truth. This -romantic spirit has extended to our prose, and scattered artificial -flowers over the most barren heath; or a mixture of verse and prose -producing the strangest incongruities. The turgid bombast of some of -your periods fully proves these assertions; for when the heart speaks we -are seldom shocked by hyperbole, or dry raptures. - -I speak in this decided tone, because from turning over the pages of -your late publication, with more attention than I did when I first read -it cursorily over; and comparing the sentiments it contains with your -conduct on many important occasions, I am led very often to doubt your -sincerity, and to suppose that you have said many things merely for the -sake of saying them well; or to throw some pointed obloquy on characters -and opinions that jostled with your vanity. - -It is an arduous task to follow the doublings of cunning, or the -subterfuges of inconsistency; for in controversy, as in battle, the -brave man wishes to face his enemy, and fight on the same ground. -Knowing, however, the influence of a ruling passion, and how often it -assumes the form of reason when there is much sensibility in the heart, -I respect an opponent, though he tenaciously maintains opinions in which -I cannot coincide; but, if I once discover that many of those opinions -are empty rhetorical flourishes, my respect is soon changed into that -pity which borders on contempt; and the mock dignity and haughty stalk, -only reminds me of the ass in the lion’s skin. - -A sentiment of this kind glanced across my mind when I read the -following exclamation. ‘Whilst the royal captives, who followed in the -train, were slowly moved along, amidst the horrid yells, and shrilling -screams, and frantic dances, and infamous contumelies, and all the -unutterable abominations of the furies of hell, in the abused shape of -the ‘vilest of women[9].’ Probably you mean women who gained a -livelihood by selling vegetables or fish, who never had had any -advantages of education; or their vices might have lost part of their -abominable deformity, by losing part of their grossness. The queen of -France—the great and small vulgar, claim our pity; they have almost -insuperable obstacles to surmount in their progress towards true dignity -of character; still I have such a plain downright understanding that I -do not like to make a distinction without a difference. But it is not -very extraordinary that _you_ should, for throughout your letter you -frequently advert to a sentimental jargon which has long been current in -conversation, and even in books of morals, though it never received the -_regal_-stamp of reason. A kind of mysterious instinct is _supposed_ to -reside in the soul, that instantaneously discerns truth, without the -tedious labour of ratiocination. This instinct, for I know not what -other name to give it, has been termed _common sense_, and more -frequently _sensibility_; and, by a kind of _indefeasible_ right, it has -been _supposed_, for rights of this kind are not easily proved, to reign -paramount over the other faculties of the mind, and to be an authority -from which there is no appeal. - -This subtle magnetic fluid, that runs round the whole circle of society, -is not subject to any known rule, or, to use an obnoxious phrase, in -spite of the sneers of mock humility, or the timid fears of some -well-meaning Christians, who shrink from any freedom of thought, lest -they should rouse the old serpent, to the _eternal fitness of things_. -It dips, we know not why, granting it to be an infallible instinct, and, -though supposed always to point to truth, its pole-star, the point is -always shifting, and seldom stands due north. - -It is to this instinct, without doubt, that you allude, when you talk of -the ‘moral constitution of the heart.’ To it, I allow, for I consider it -as a congregate of sensations and passions, _Poets_ must apply, ‘who -have to deal with an audience not yet graduated in the school of the -rights of men.’ They must, it is clear, often cloud the understanding, -whilst they move the heart by a kind of mechanical spring; but that ‘in -the theatre the first intuitive glance’ of feeling should discriminate -the form of truth, and see her fair proportion, I must beg leave to -doubt. Sacred be the feelings of the heart! concentred in a glowing -flame, they become the sun of life; and, without his invigorating -impregnation, reason would probably lie in helpless inactivity, and -never bring forth her only legitimate offspring—virtue. But to prove -that virtue is really an acquisition of the individual, and not the -blind impulse of unerring instinct, the bastard vice has often been -begotten by the same father. - -In what respect are we superior to the brute creation, if intellect is -not allowed to be the guide of passion? Brutes hope and fear, love and -hate; but, without a capacity to improve, a power of turning these -passions to good or evil, they neither acquire virtue nor wisdom.—Why? -Because the Creator has not given them reason[10]. - -But the cultivation of reason is an arduous task, and men of lively -fancy, finding it easier to follow the impulse of passion, endeavour to -persuade themselves and others that it is most _natural_. And happy is -it for those, who indolently let that heaven-lighted spark rest like the -ancient lamps in sepulchres, that some virtuous habits, with which the -reason of others shackled them, supplies its place.—Affection for -parents, reverence for superiors or antiquity, notions of honour, or -that worldly self-interest that shrewdly shews them that honesty is the -best policy: all proceed from the reason for which they serve as -substitutes;—but it is reason at second-hand. - -Children are born ignorant, consequently innocent; the passions, are -neither good nor evil dispositions, till they receive a direction, and -either bound over the feeble barrier raised by a faint glimmering of -unexercised reason, called conscience, or strengthen her wavering -dictates till sound principles are deeply rooted, and able to cope with -the headstrong passions that often assume her awful form. What moral -purpose can be answered by extolling good dispositions, as they are -called, when these good dispositions are described as instincts: for -instinct moves in a direct line to its ultimate end, and asks not for -guide or support. But if virtue is to be acquired by experience, or -taught by example, reason, perfected by reflection, must be the director -of the whole host of passions, which produce a fructifying heat, but no -light, that you would exalt into her place.—She must hold the rudder, -or, let the wind blow which way it list, the vessel will never advance -smoothly to its destined port; for the time lost in tacking about would -dreadfully impede its progress. - -In the name of the people of England, you say, ‘that we know _we_ have -made no discoveries; and we think that no discoveries are to be made in -morality; nor many in the great principles of government, nor in the -ideas of liberty, which were understood long before we were born, -altogether as well as they will be after the grave has heaped its mould -upon our presumption, and the silent tomb shall have imposed its law on -our pert loquacity. In England we have not yet been completely emboweled -of our natural entrails; we still feel within us, and we cherish and -cultivate those inbred sentiments which are the faithful guardians, the -active monitors of our duty, the true supporters of all liberal and -manly morals[11].’—What do you mean by inbred sentiments? From whence do -they come? How were they bred? Are they the brood of folly, which swarm -like the insects on the banks of the Nile, when mud and putrefaction -have enriched the languid soil? Were these _inbred_ sentiments faithful -guardians of our duty when the church was an asylum for murderers, and -men worshipped bread as a God? when slavery was authorized by law to -fasten her fangs on human flesh, and the iron eat into the very soul? If -these sentiments are not acquired, if our passive dispositions do not -expand into virtuous affections and passions, why are not the Tartars in -the first rude horde endued with sentiments white and _elegant_ as the -driven snow? Why is passion or heroism the child of reflection, the -consequence of dwelling with intent contemplation on one object? The -appetites are the only perfect inbred powers that I can discern; and -they like instincts have a certain aim, they can be satisfied—but -improvable reason has not yet discovered the perfection it may arrive -at—God forbid! - -First, however, it is necessary to make what we know practical. Who can -deny, that has marked the slow progress of civilization, that men may -become more virtuous and happy without any new discovery in morals? Who -will venture to assert that virtue would not be promoted by the more -extensive cultivation of reason? If nothing more is to be done, let us -eat and drink, for to-morrow we die—and die for ever! Who will pretend -to say, that there is as much happiness diffused on this globe as it is -capable of affording? as many social virtues as reason would foster, if -she could gain the strength she is able to acquire even in this -imperfect state; if the voice of nature was allowed to speak audibly -from the bottom of the heart, and the _native_ unalienable rights of men -were recognized in their full force; if factitious merit did not take -place of genuine acquired virtue, and enable men to build their -enjoyment on the misery of their fellow-creatures; if men were more -under the dominion of reason than opinion, and did not cherish their -prejudices ‘because they were prejudices[12]?’ I am not, Sir, aware of -your sneers, hailing a millennium, though a state of greater purity of -morals may not be a mere poetic fiction; nor did my fancy ever create a -heaven on earth, since reason threw off her swaddling clothes. I -perceive, but too forcibly, that happiness, literally speaking, dwells -not here;—and that we wander to and fro in a vale of darkness as well as -tears. I perceive that my passions pursue objects that the imagination -enlarges, till they become only a sublime idea that shrinks from the -enquiry of sense, and mocks the experimental philosophers who would -confine this spiritual phlogiston in their material crucibles. I know -that the human understanding is deluded with vain shadows, and that when -we eagerly pursue any study, we only reach the boundary set to human -enquires.—Thus far shalt thou go, and no further, says some stern -difficulty; and the _cause_ we were pursuing melts into utter darkness. -But these are only the trials of contemplative minds, the foundation of -virtue remains firm.—The power of exercising our understanding raises us -above the brutes; and this exercise produces that ‘primary morality,’ -which you term ‘untaught feelings.’ - -If virtue be an instinct, I renounce all hope of immortality; and with -it all the sublime reveries and dignified sentiments that have smoothed -the rugged path of life: it is all a cheat, a lying vision; I have -disquieted myself in vain; for in my eye all feelings are false and -spurious, that do not rest on justice as their foundation, and are not -concentred by universal love. - -I reverence the rights of men.—Sacred rights! for which I acquire a more -profound respect, the more I look into my own mind; and, professing -these heterodox opinions, I still preserve my bowels; my heart is human, -beats quick with human sympathies—and I FEAR God! - -I bend with awful reverence when I enquire on what my fear is built.—I -fear that sublime power, whose motive for creating me must have been -wise and good; and I submit to the moral laws which my reason deduces -from this view of my dependence on him.—It is not his power that I -fear—it is not to an arbitrary will, but to unerring _reason_ I -submit.—Submit—yes; I disregard the charge of arrogance, to the law that -regulates his just resolves; and the happiness I pant after must be the -same in kind, and produced by the same exertions as his—though unfeigned -humility overwhelms every idea that would presume to compare the -goodness which the most exalted created being could acquire, with the -grand source of life and bliss. - -This fear of God makes me reverence myself.—Yes, Sir, the regard I have -for honest fame, and the friendship of the virtuous, falls far short of -the respect which I have for myself. And this, enlightened self-love, if -an epithet the meaning of which has been grossly perverted will convey -my idea, forces me to see; and, if I may venture to borrow a prostituted -term, to _feel_, that happiness is reflected, and that, in communicating -good, my soul receives its noble aliment.—I do not trouble myself, -therefore, to enquire whether this is the fear the _people_ of England -feel:—and, if it be _natural_ to include all the modifications which you -have annexed—it is not[13]. - -Besides, I cannot help suspecting that, if you had the _enlightened_ -respect for yourself, which you affect to despise, you would not have -said that the constitution of our church and state, formed, like most -other modern ones, by degrees, as Europe was emerging out of barbarism, -was formed ‘under the auspices, and was confirmed by the sanctions, of -religion and piety.’ You have turned over the historic page; have been -hackneyed in the ways of men, and must know that private cabals and -public feuds, private virtues and vices, religion and superstition, have -all concurred to foment the mass and swell it to its present form; nay -more, that it in part owes its sightly appearance to bold rebellion and -insidious innovation. Factions, Sir, have been the leaven, and private -interest has produced public good. - -These general reflections are not thrown out to insinuate that virtue -was a creature of yesterday: No; she had her share in the grand drama. I -guard against misrepresentation; but the man who cannot modify general -assertions, has scarcely learned the first rudiments of reasoning. I -know that there is a great portion of virtue in the Romish church, yet I -should not choose to neglect clothing myself with a garment of my own -righteousness, depending on a kind donative of works of supererogation. -I know that there are many clergymen, of all denominations, wise and -virtuous; yet I have not that respect for the whole body, which, you -say, characterizes our nation, ‘emanating from a certain plainness and -directness of understanding.’—Now we are stumbling on _inbred_ feelings -and secret lights again—or, I beg your pardon, it may be the furbished -up face which you choose to give to the argument. - -It is a well-known fact, that when _we_, the people of England, have a -son whom we scarcely know what to do with—_we_ make a clergyman of him. -When a living is in the gift of a family, a son is brought up to the -church; but not always with hopes full of immortality. ‘Such sublime -principles are _not constantly_ infused into persons of exalted birth;’ -they sometimes think of ‘the paltry pelf of the moment[14]’—and the -vulgar care of preaching the gospel, or practising self-denial, is left -to the poor curates, who, arguing on your ground, cannot have, from the -scanty stipend they receive, ‘very high and worthy notions of their -function and destination.’ This consecration _for ever_; a word, that -from lips of flesh is big with a mighty nothing, has not purged the -_sacred temple_ from all the impurities of fraud, violence, injustice, -and tyranny. Human passions still lurk in her _sanctum sanctorum_; and, -without the profane exertions of reason, vain would be her ceremonial -ablutions; morality would still stand aloof from this national religion, -this ideal consecration of a state; and men would rather choose to give -the goods of their body, when on their death beds, to clear the narrow -way to heaven, than restrain the mad career of passions during life. - -Such a curious paragraph occurs in this part of your letter, that I am -tempted to transcribe it[15], and must beg you to elucidate it, if I -misconceive your meaning. - -The only way in which the people interfere in government, religious or -civil, is in electing representatives. And, Sir, let me ask you, with -manly plainness—are these _holy_ nominations? Where is the booth of -religion? Does she mix her awful mandates, or lift her persuasive voice, -in those scenes of drunken riot and beastly gluttony? Does she preside -over those nocturnal abominations which so evidently tend to deprave the -manners of the lower class of people? The pestilence stops not here—the -rich and poor have one common nature, and many of the great families, -which, on this side adoration, you venerate, date their misery, I speak -of stubborn matters of fact, from the thoughtless extravagance of an -electioneering frolic.—Yet, after the effervescence of spirits, raised -by opposition, and all the little and tyrannic arts of canvassing are -over—quiet souls! they only intend to march rank and file to say YES—or -NO. - -Experience, I believe, will shew that sordid interest, or licentious -thoughtlessness, is the spring of action at most elections.—Again, I beg -you not to lose sight of my modification of general rules. So far are -the people from being habitually convinced of the sanctity of the charge -they are conferring, that the venality of their votes must admonish them -that they have no right to expect disinterested conduct. But to return -to the church, and the habitual conviction of the people of England. - -So far are the people from being ‘habitually convinced that no evil can -be acceptable, either in the act or the permission, to him whose essence -is good[16];’ that the sermons which they hear are to them almost as -unintelligible as if they were preached in a foreign tongue. The -language and sentiments rising above their capacities, very orthodox -Christians are driven to fanatical meetings for amusement, if not for -edification. The clergy, I speak of the body, not forgetting the respect -and affection which I have for individuals, perform the duty of their -profession as a kind of fee-simple, to entitle them to the emoluments -accruing from it; and their ignorant flock think that merely going to -church is meritorious. - -So defective, in fact, are our laws, respecting religious -establishments, that I have heard many rational pious clergymen -complain, that they had no method of receiving their stipend that did -not clog their endeavours to be useful; whilst the lives of many less -conscientious rectors are passed in litigious disputes with the people -they engaged to instruct; or in distant cities, in all the ease of -luxurious idleness. - -But you return to your old firm ground.—_Art thou there, True-penny?_ -Must we swear to secure property, and make assurance doubly sure, to -give your perturbed spirit rest? Peace, peace to the manes of thy -patriotic phrensy, which contributed to deprive some of thy -fellow-citizens of their property in America: another spirit now walks -abroad to secure the property of the church.—The tithes are safe!—We -will not say for ever—because the time may come, when the traveller may -ask where proud London stood? when its _temples_, its laws, and its -trade, may be buried in one common ruin, and only serve as a by-word to -point a moral, or furnish senators, who wage a wordy war, on the other -side of the Atlantic, with tropes to swell their thundering bursts of -eloquence. - -Who shall dare to accuse you of inconsistency any more, when you have so -staunchly supported the despotic principles which agree so perfectly -with the unerring interest of a large body of your fellow-citizens; not -the largest—for when you venerate parliaments—I presume it is not the -majority, as you have had the presumption to dissent, and loudly explain -your reasons.—But it was not my intention, when I began this letter, to -descend to the minutiæ of your conduct, or to weigh your infirmities in -a balance; it is only some of your pernicious opinions that I wish to -hunt out of their lurking holes; and to shew you to yourself, stripped -of the gorgeous drapery in which you have enwrapped your tyrannic -principles. - -That the people of England respect the national establishment I do not -deny; I recollect the melancholy proof which they gave, in this very -century, of their _enlightened_ zeal and reasonable affection. I -likewise know that, according to the dictates of a _prudent_ law, in a -commercial state, truth is reckoned a libel; yet I acknowledge, having -never made my humanity give place to Gothic gallantry, that I should -have been better pleased to have heard that Lord George Gordon was -confined on account of the calamities which he brought on his country, -than for a _libel_ on the queen of France. - -But one argument which you adduce to strengthen your assertion, appears -to carry the preponderancy towards the other side. - -You observe that ‘our education is so formed as to confirm and fix this -impression, (respect for the religious establishment); and that our -education is in a manner wholly in the hands of ecclesiastics, and in -all stages from infancy to manhood[17].’ Far from agreeing with you, -Sir, that these regulations render the clergy a more useful and -respectable body, experience convinces me that the very contrary is the -fact. In schools and colleges they may, in some degree, support their -dignity within the monastic walls; but, in paying due respect to the -parents of the young nobility under their tutorage, they do not forget, -obsequiously, to respect their noble patrons. The little respect paid, -in great houses, to tutors and chaplains proves, Sir, the fallacy of -your reasoning. It would be almost invidious to remark, that they -sometimes are only modern substitutes for the jesters of Gothic memory, -and serve as whetstones for the blunt wit of the noble peer who -patronizes them; and what respect a boy can imbibe for a _butt_, at -which the shaft of ridicule is daily glanced, I leave those to determine -who can distinguish depravity of morals under the specious mask of -refined manners. - -Besides, the custom of sending clergymen to travel with their noble -pupils, as humble companions, instead of exalting, tends inevitably to -degrade the clerical character: it is notorious that they meanly submit -to the most servile dependence, and gloss over the most capricious -follies, to use a soft phrase, of the boys to whom they look up for -preferment. An airy mitre dances before them, and they wrap their -sheep’s clothing more closely about them, and make their spirits bend -till it is prudent to claim the rights of men and the honest freedom of -speech of an Englishman. How, indeed, could they venture to reprove for -his vices their patron: the clergy only give the true feudal emphasis to -this word. It has been observed, by men who have not superficially -investigated the human heart, that when a man makes his spirit bend to -any power but reason, his character is soon degraded, and his mind -shackled by the very prejudices to which he submits with reluctance. The -observations of experience have been carried still further; and the -servility to superiors, and tyranny to inferiors, said to characterize -our clergy, have rationally been supposed to arise naturally from their -associating with the nobility. Among unequals there can be no -society;—giving a manly meaning to the term; from such intimacies -friendship can never grow; if the basis of friendship is mutual respect, -and not a commercial treaty. Taken thus out of their sphere, and -enjoying their tithes at a distance from their flocks, is it not natural -for them to become courtly parasites, and intriguing dependents on great -patrons, or the treasury? Observing all this—for these things have not -been transacted in the dark—our young men of fashion, by a common, -though erroneous, association of ideas, have conceived a contempt for -religion, as they sucked in with their milk a contempt for the clergy. - -The people of England, Sir, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, -I will not go any further back to insult the ashes of departed popery, -did not settle the establishment, and endow it with princely revenues, -to make it proudly rear its head, as a part of the constitutional body, -to guard the liberties of the community; but, like some of the laborious -commentators on Shakespeare, you have affixed a meaning to laws that -chance, or, to speak more philosophically, the interested views of men, -settled, not dreaming of your ingenious elucidations. - -What, but the rapacity of the only men who exercised their reason, the -priests, secured such vast property to the church, when a man gave his -perishable substance to save himself from the dark torments of -purgatory; and found it more convenient to indulge his depraved -appetites, and pay an exorbitant price for absolution, than listen to -the suggestions of reason, and work out his own salvation: in a word, -was not the separation of religion from morality the work of the -priests, and partly achieved in those _honourable_ days which you so -piously deplore? - -That civilization, that the cultivation of the understanding, and -refinement of the affections, naturally make a man religious, I am proud -to acknowledge.—What else can fill the aching void in the heart, that -human pleasures, human friendships can never fill? What else can render -us resigned to live, though condemned to ignorance?—What but a profound -reverence for the model of all perfection, and the mysterious tie which -arises from a love of goodness? What can make us reverence ourselves, -but a reverence for that Being, of whom we are a faint image? That -mighty Spirit moves on the waters—confusion hears his voice, and the -troubled heart ceases to beat with anguish, for trust in Him bade it be -still. Conscious dignity may make us rise superior to calumny, and -sternly brave the winds of adverse fortune,—raised in our own esteem by -the very storms of which we are the sport—but when friends are unkind, -and the heart has not the prop on which it fondly leaned, where can a -tender suffering being fly but to the Searcher of hearts? and, when -death has desolated the present scene, and torn from us the friend of -our youth—when we walk along the accustomed path, and, almost fancying -nature dead, ask, Where art thou who gave life to these well-known -scenes? when memory heightens former pleasures to contrast our present -prospects—there is but one source of comfort within our reach;—and in -this sublime solitude the world appears to contain only the Creator and -the creature, of whose happiness he is the source.—These are human -feelings; but I know not of any common nature or common relation amongst -men but what results from reason. The common affections and passions -equally bind brutes together; and it is only the continuity of those -relations that entitles us to the denomination of rational creatures; -and this continuity arises from reflection—from the operations of that -reason which you contemn with flippant disrespect. - -If then it appears, arguing from analogy, that reflection must be the -natural foundation of _rational_ affections, and of that experience -which enables one man to rise above another, a phenomenon that has never -been seen in the brute creation, it may not be stretching the argument -further than it will go to suppose, that those men who are obliged to -exercise their reason have the most reason, and are the persons pointed -out by Nature to direct the society of which they make a part, on any -extraordinary emergency. - -Time only will shew whether the general censure, which you afterwards -qualify, if not contradict, and the unmerited contempt that you have -ostentatiously displayed of the National Assembly, be founded on reason, -the offspring of conviction, or the spawn of envy. Time may shew, that -this obscure throng knew more of the human heart and of legislation than -the profligates of rank, emasculated by hereditary effeminacy. - -It is not, perhaps, of very great consequence who were the founders of a -state; savages, thieves, curates, or practitioners in the law. It is -true, you might sarcastically remark, that the Romans had always a -_smack_ of the old leaven, and that the private robbers, supposing the -tradition to be true, only became public depredators. You might have -added, that their civilization must have been very partial, and had more -influence on the manners than morals of the people; or the amusements of -the amphitheatre would not have remained an everlasting blot not only on -their humanity, but on their refinement, if a vicious elegance of -behaviour and luxurious mode of life is not a prostitution of the term. -However, the thundering censures which you have cast with a ponderous -arm, and the more playful bushfiring of ridicule, are not arguments that -will ever depreciate the National Assembly, for applying to their -understanding rather than to their imagination, when they met to settle -the newly acquired liberty of the state on a solid foundation. - -If you had given the same advice to a young history painter of -abilities, I should have admired your judgment, and re-echoed your -sentiments[18]. Study, you might have said, the noble models of -antiquity, till your imagination is inflamed; and, rising above the -vulgar practice of the hour, you may imitate without copying those great -originals. A glowing picture, of some interesting moment, would probably -have been produced by these natural means; particularly if one little -circumstance is not overlooked, that the painter had noble models to -revert to, calculated to excite admiration and stimulate exertion. - -But, in settling a constitution that involved the happiness of millions, -that stretch beyond the computation of science, it was, perhaps, -necessary for the Assembly to have a higher model in view than the -_imagined_ virtues of their forefathers; and wise to deduce their -respect for themselves from the only legitimate source, respect for -justice. Why was it a duty to repair an ancient castle, built in -barbarous ages, of Gothic materials? Why were the legislators obliged to -rake amongst heterogeneous ruins; to rebuild old walls, whose -foundations could scarcely be explored, when a simple structure might be -raised on the foundation of experience, the only valuable inheritance -our forefathers could bequeath? Yet of this bequest we can make little -use till we have gained a stock of our own; and even then, their -inherited experience would rather serve as lighthouses, to warn us -against dangerous rocks or sand-banks, than as finger-posts that stand -at every turning to point out the right road. - -Nor was it absolutely necessary that they should be diffident of -themselves when they were dissatisfied with, or could not discern the -_almost obliterated_ constitution of their ancestors[19]. They should -first have been convinced that our constitution was not only the best -modern, but the best possible one; and that our social compact was the -surest foundation of all the _possible_ liberty a mass of men could -enjoy, that the human understanding could form. They should have been -certain that our representation answered all the purposes of -representation; and that an established inequality of rank and property -secured the liberty of the whole community, instead of rendering it a -sounding epithet of subjection, when applied to the nation at large. -They should have had the same respect for our House of Commons that you, -vauntingly, intrude on us, though your conduct throughout life has -spoken a very different language; before they made a point of not -deviating from the model which first engaged their attention. - -That the British House of Commons is filled with every thing illustrious -in rank, in descent, in hereditary, and acquired opulence, may be -true,—but that it contains every thing respectable in talents, in -military, civil, naval, and political distinction, is very -problematical. Arguing from natural causes, the very contrary would -appear to the speculatist to be the fact; and let experience say whether -these speculations are built on sure ground. - -It is true you lay great stress on the effects produced by the bare idea -of a liberal descent[20]; but from the conduct of men of rank, men of -discernment would rather be led to conclude, that this idea obliterated -instead of inspiring native dignity, and substituted a factitious pride -that disemboweled the man. The liberty of the rich has its ensigns -armorial to puff the individual out with insubstantial honours; but -where are blazoned the struggles of virtuous poverty? Who, indeed, would -dare to blazon what would blur the pompous monumental inscription you -boast of, and make us view with horror, as monsters in human shape, the -superb gallery of portraits proudly set in battle array? - -But to examine the subject more closely. Is it among the list of -possibilities that a man of rank and fortune _can_ have received a good -education? How can he discover that he is a man, when all his wants are -instantly supplied, and invention is never sharpened by necessity? Will -he labour, for every thing valuable must be the fruit of laborious -exertions, to attain knowledge and virtue, in order to merit the -affection of his equals, when the flattering attention of sycophants is -a more luscious cordial? - -Health can only be secured by temperance; but is it easy to persuade a -man to live on plain food even to recover his health, who has been -accustomed to fare sumptuously every day? Can a man relish the simple -food of friendship, who has been habitually pampered by flattery? And -when the blood boils, and the senses meet allurements on every side, -will knowledge be pursued on account of its abstract beauty? No; it is -well known that talents are only to be unfolded by industry, and that we -must have made some advances, led by an inferior motive, before we -discover that they are their own reward. - -But _full blown_ talents _may_, according to your system, be hereditary, -and as independent of ripening judgment, as the inbred feelings that, -rising above reason, naturally guard Englishmen from error. Noble -franchises! what a grovelling mind must that man have, who can pardon -his step-dame Nature for not having made him at least a lord? - -And who will, after your description of senatorial virtues, dare to say -that our House of Commons has often resembled a bear-garden; and -appeared rather like a committee of _ways and means_ than a dignified -legislative body, though the concentrated wisdom and virtue of the whole -nation blazed in one superb constellation? That it contains a dead -weight of benumbing opulence I readily allow, and of ignoble ambition; -nor is there any thing surpassing belief in a supposition that the raw -recruits, when properly drilled by the minister, would gladly march to -the Upper House to unite hereditary honours to fortune. But talents, -knowledge, and virtue, must be a part of the man, and cannot be put, as -robes of state often are, on a servant or a block, to render a pageant -more magnificent. - -Our House of Commons, it is true, has been celebrated as a school of -eloquence, a hot-bed for wit, even when party intrigues narrow the -understanding and contract the heart; yet, from the few proficients it -has accomplished, this inferior praise is not of great magnitude: nor of -great consequence, Mr. Locke would have added, who was ever of opinion -that eloquence was oftener employed to make ‘the worse appear the better -part,’ than to support the dictates of cool judgment. However, the -greater number who have gained a seat by their fortune and hereditary -rank, are content with their pre-eminence, and struggle not for more -hazardous honours. But you are an exception; you have raised yourself by -the exertion of abilities, and thrown the automatons of rank into the -back ground. Your exertions have been a generous contest for secondary -honours, or a grateful tribute of respect due to the noble ashes that -lent a hand to raise you into notice, by introducing you into the house -of which you have ever been an ornament, if not a support. But, -unfortunately, you have lately lost a great part of your popularity: -members were tired of listening to declamation, or had not sufficient -taste to be amused when you ingeniously wandered from the question, and -said certainly many good things, if they were not to the present -purpose. You were the Cicero of one side of the house for years; and -then to sink into oblivion, to see your blooming honours fade before -you, was enough to rouse all that was human in you—and make you produce -the impassioned _Reflections_ which have been a glorious revivification -of your fame.—Richard is himself again! He is still a great man, though -he has deserted his post, and buried in elogiums, on church -establishments, the enthusiasm that forced him to throw the weight of -his talents on the side of liberty and natural rights, when the -_will_[21] of the nation oppressed the Americans. - -There appears to be such a mixture of real sensibility and fondly -cherished romance in your composition, that the present crisis carries -you out of yourself; and since you could not be one of the grand movers, -the next _best_ thing that dazzled your imagination was to be a -conspicuous opposer. Full of yourself, you make as much noise to -convince the world that you despise the revolution, as Rousseau did to -persuade his contemporaries to let him live in obscurity. - -Reading your Reflections warily over, it has continually and forcibly -struck me, that had you been a Frenchman, you would have been, in spite -of your respect for rank and antiquity, a violent revolutionist; and -deceived, as you now probably are, by the passions that cloud your -reason, have termed your romantic enthusiasm an enlightened love of your -country, a benevolent respect for the rights of men. Your imagination -would have taken fire, and have found arguments, full as ingenious as -those you now offer, to prove that the constitution, of which so few -pillars remained, that constitution which time had almost obliterated, -was not a model sufficiently noble to deserve close adherence. And, for -the English constitution, you might not have had such a profound -veneration as you have lately acquired; nay, it is not impossible that -you might have entertained the same opinion of the English Parliament, -that you professed to have during the American war. - -Another observation which, by frequently occurring, has almost grown -into a conviction, is simply this, that had the English in general -reprobated the French revolution, you would have stood forth alone, and -been the avowed Goliah of liberty. But, not liking to see so many -brothers near the throne of fame, you have turned the current of your -passions, and consequently of your reasoning, another way. Had Dr. -Price’s sermon not lighted some sparks very like envy in your bosom, I -shrewdly suspect that he would have been treated with more candour; nor -is it charitable to suppose that any thing but personal pique and hurt -vanity could have dictated such bitter sarcasms and reiterated -expressions of contempt as occur in your Reflections. - -But without fixed principles even goodness of heart is no security from -inconsistency, and mild affectionate sensibility only renders a man more -ingeniously cruel, when the pangs of hurt vanity are mistaken for -virtuous indignation, and the gall of bitterness for the milk of -Christian charity. - -Where is the dignity, the infallibility of sensibility, in the fair -ladies, whom, if the voice of rumour is to be credited, the captive -negroes curse in all the agony of bodily pain, for the unheard of -tortures they invent? It is probable that some of them, after the sight -of a flagellation, compose their ruffled spirits and exercise their -tender feelings by the perusal of the last imported novel.—How true -these tears are to nature, I leave you to determine. But these ladies -may have read your Enquiry concerning the origin of our ideas of the -Sublime and Beautiful, and, convinced by your arguments, may have -laboured to be pretty, by counterfeiting weakness. - -You may have convinced them that _littleness_ and _weakness_ are the -very essence of beauty; and that the Supreme Being, in giving women -beauty in the most supereminent degree, seemed to command them, by the -powerful voice of Nature, not to cultivate the moral virtues that might -chance to excite respect, and interfere with the pleasing sensations -they were created to inspire. Thus confining truth, fortitude, and -humanity, within the rigid pale of manly morals, they might justly -argue, that to be loved, woman’s high end and great distinction! they -should ‘learn to lisp, to totter in their walk, and nick-name God’s -creatures.’ Never, they might repeat after you, was any man, much less a -woman, rendered amiable by the force of those exalted qualities, -fortitude, justice, wisdom, and truth; and thus forewarned of the -sacrifice they must make to those austere, unnatural virtues, they would -be authorized to turn all their attention to their persons, -systematically neglecting morals to secure beauty.—Some rational old -woman indeed might chance to stumble at this doctrine, and hint, that in -avoiding atheism you had not steered clear of the mussulman’s creed; but -you could readily exculpate yourself by turning the charge on Nature, -who made our idea of beauty independent of reason. Nor would it be -necessary for you to recollect, that if virtue has any other foundation -than worldly utility, you have clearly proved that one half of the human -species, at least, have not souls; and that Nature, by making women -_little_, _smooth_, _delicate_, _fair_ creatures, never designed that -they should exercise their reason to acquire the virtues that produce -opposite, if not contradictory, feelings. The affection they excite, to -be uniform and perfect, should not be tinctured with the respect which -moral virtues inspire, lest pain should be blended with pleasure, and -admiration disturb the soft intimacy of love. This laxity of morals in -the female world is certainly more captivating to a libertine -imagination than the cold arguments of reason, that give no sex to -virtue. If beautiful weakness be interwoven in a woman’s frame, if the -chief business of her life be (as you insinuate) to inspire love, and -Nature has made an eternal distinction between the qualities that -dignify a rational being and this animal perfection, her duty and -happiness in this life must clash with any preparation for a more -exalted state. So that Plato and Milton were grossly mistaken in -asserting that human love led to heavenly, and was only an exaltation of -the same affection; for the love of the Deity, which is mixed with the -most profound reverence, must be love of perfection, and not compassion -for weakness. - -To say the truth, I not only tremble for the souls of women, but for the -good natured man, whom every one loves. The _amiable_ weakness of his -mind is a strong argument against its immateriality, and seems to prove -that beauty relaxes the _solids_ of the soul as well as the body. - -It follows then immediately, from your own reasoning, that respect and -love are antagonist principles; and that, if we really wish to render -men more virtuous, we must endeavour to banish all enervating -modifications of beauty from civil society. We must, to carry your -argument a little further, return to the Spartan regulations, and settle -the virtues of men on the stern foundation of mortification and -self-denial; for any attempt to civilize the heart, to make it humane by -implanting reasonable principles, is a mere philosophic dream. If -refinement inevitably lessens respect for virtue, by rendering beauty, -the grand tempter, more seductive; if these relaxing feelings are -incompatible with the nervous exertions of morality, the sun of Europe -is not set; it begins to dawn, when cold metaphysicians try to make the -head give laws to the heart. - -But should experience prove that there is a beauty in virtue, a charm in -order, which necessarily implies exertion, a depraved sensual taste may -give way to a more manly one—and _melting_ feelings to rational -satisfactions. Both may be equally natural to man; the test is their -moral difference, and that point reason alone can decide. - -Such a glorious change can only be produced by liberty. Inequality of -rank must ever impede the growth of virtue, by vitiating the mind that -submits or domineers; that is ever employed to procure nourishment for -the body, or amusement for the mind. And if this grand example be set by -an assembly of unlettered clowns, if they can produce a crisis that may -involve the fate of Europe, and ‘more than Europe[22],’ you must allow -us to respect unsophisticated reason, and reverence the active exertions -that were not relaxed by a fastidious respect for the beauty of rank, or -a dread of the deformity produced by any _void_ in the social structure. - -After your contemptuous manner of speaking of the National Assembly, -after descanting on the coarse vulgarity of their proceedings, which, -according to your own definition of virtue, is a proof of its -genuineness; was it not a little inconsistent, not to say absurd, to -assert, that a dozen people of quality were not a sufficient -counterpoise to the vulgar mob with whom they condescended to associate? -Have we half a dozen leaders of eminence in our House of Commons, or -even in the fashionable world? yet the sheep obsequiously pursue their -steps with all the undeviating sagacity of instinct. - -In order that liberty should have a firm foundation, an acquaintance -with the world would naturally lead cool men to conclude that it must be -laid, knowing the weakness of the human heart, and the ‘deceitfulness of -riches,’ either by _poor_ men, or philosophers, if a sufficient number -of men, disinterested from principle, or truly wise, could be found. Was -it natural to expect that sensual prejudices should give way to reason, -or present feelings to enlarged views?—No; I am afraid that human nature -is still in such a weak state, that the abolition of titles, the -corner-stone of despotism, could only have been the work of men who had -no titles to sacrifice. The National Assembly, it is true, contains some -honourable exceptions; but the majority had not such powerful feelings -to struggle with, when reason led them to respect the naked dignity of -virtue. - -Weak minds are always timid. And what can equal the weakness of mind -produced by servile flattery, and the vapid pleasures that neither hope -nor fear seasoned? Had the constitution of France been new modelled, or -more cautiously repaired, by the lovers of elegance and beauty, it is -natural to suppose that the imagination would have erected a fragile -temporary building; or the power of one tyrant, divided amongst a -hundred, might have rendered the struggle for liberty only a choice of -masters. And the glorious _chance_ that is now given to human nature of -attaining more virtue and happiness than has hitherto blessed our globe, -might have been sacrificed to a meteor of the imagination, a bubble of -passion. The ecclesiastics, indeed, would probably have remained in -quiet possession of their sinecures; and your gall might not have been -mixed with your ink on account of the daring sacrilege that brought them -more on a level. The nobles would have had bowels for their younger -sons, if not for the misery of their fellow-creatures. An august mass of -property would have been transmitted to posterity to guard the temple of -superstition, and prevent reason from entering with her officious light. -And the pomp of religion would have continued to impress the senses, if -she were unable to subjugate the passions. - -Is hereditary weakness necessary to render religion lovely? and will her -form have lost the smooth delicacy that inspires love, when stripped of -its Gothic drapery? Must every grand model be placed on the pedestal of -property? and is there no beauteous proportion in virtue, when not -clothed in a sensual garb? - -Of these questions there would be no end, though they lead to the same -conclusion;—that your politics and morals, when simplified, would -undermine religion and virtue to set up a spurious, sensual beauty, that -has long debauched your imagination, under the specious form of natural -feelings. - -And what is this mighty revolution in property? The present incumbents -only are injured, or the hierarchy of the clergy, an ideal part of the -constitution, which you have personified, to render your affection more -tender. How has posterity been injured by a distribution of the property -snatched, perhaps, from innocent hands, but accumulated by the most -abominable violation of every sentiment of justice and piety? Was the -monument of former ignorance and iniquity to be held sacred, to enable -the present possessors of enormous benefices to _dissolve_ in indolent -pleasures? Was not their convenience, for they have not been turned -adrift on the world, to give place to a just partition of the land -belonging to the state? And did not the respect due to the natural -equality of man require this triumph over Monkish rapacity? Were those -monsters to be reverenced on account of their antiquity, and their -unjust claims perpetuated to their ideal children, the clergy, merely to -preserve the sacred majesty of Property inviolate, and to enable the -Church to retain her pristine splendor? Can posterity be injured by -individuals losing the chance of obtaining great wealth, without -meriting it, by its being diverted from a narrow channel, and -disembogued into the sea that affords clouds to water all the land? -Besides, the clergy not brought up with the expectation of great -revenues will not feel the loss; and if bishops should happen to be -chosen on account of their personal merit, religion may be benefited by -the vulgar nomination. - -The sophistry of asserting that Nature leads us to reverence our civil -institutions from the same principle that we venerate aged individuals, -is a palpable fallacy ‘that is so like truth, it will serve the turn as -well.’ And when you add, ‘that we have chosen our nature rather than our -speculations, our breasts rather than our inventions[23]’, the pretty -jargon seems equally unintelligible. - -But it was the downfall of the visible power and dignity of the church -that roused your ire; you could have excused a little squeezing of the -individuals to supply present exigencies; the actual possessors of the -property might have been oppressed with something like impunity, if the -church had not been spoiled of its gaudy trappings. You love the church, -your country, and its laws, you repeatedly tell us, because they deserve -to be loved; but from you this is not a panegyric: weakness and -indulgence are the only incitements to love and confidence that you can -discern, and it cannot be denied that the tender mother you venerate -deserves, on this score, all your affection. - -It would be as vain a task to attempt to obviate all your passionate -objections, as to unravel all your plausible arguments, often -illustrated by known truths, and rendered forcible by pointed -invectives. I only attack the foundation. On the natural principles of -justice I build my plea for disseminating the property artfully said to -be appropriated to religious purposes, but, in reality, to support idle -tyrants, amongst the society whose ancestors were cheated or forced into -illegal grants. Can there be an opinion more subversive of morality, -than that time sanctifies crimes, and silences the blood that calls out -for retribution, if not for vengeance? If the revenue annexed to the -Gallic church was greater than the most bigoted protestant would now -allow to be its reasonable share, would it not have been trampling on -the rights of men to perpetuate such an arbitrary appropriation of the -common stock, because time had rendered the fraudulent seizure -venerable? Besides, if Reason had suggested, as surely she must, if the -imagination had not been allowed to dwell on the fascinating pomp of -ceremonial grandeur, that the clergy would be rendered both more -virtuous and useful by being put more on a par with each other, and the -mass of the people it was their duty to instruct;—where was there room -for hesitation? The charge of presumption, thrown by you on the most -reasonable innovations, may, without any violence to truth, be retorted -on every reformation that has meliorated our condition, and even on the -improvable faculty that gives us a claim to the pre-eminence of -intelligent beings. - -Plausibility, I know, can only be unmasked by shewing the absurdities it -glosses over, and the simple truths it involves with specious errors. -Eloquence has often confounded triumphant villainy; but it is probable -that it has more frequently rendered the boundary that separates virtue -and vice doubtful.—Poisons may be only medicines in judicious hands; but -they should not be administered by the ignorant, because they have -sometimes seen great cures performed by their powerful aid. - -The many sensible remarks and pointed observations which you have mixed -with opinions that strike at our dearest interests, fortify those -opinions, and give them a degree of strength that render them formidable -to the wise, and convincing to the superficial. It is impossible to read -half a dozen pages of your book without admiring your ingenuity, or -indignantly spurning your sophisms. Words are heaped on words, till the -understanding is confused by endeavouring to disentangle the sense, and -the memory by tracing contradictions. After observing a host of these -contradictions, it can scarcely be a breach of charity to think that you -have often sacrificed your sincerity to enforce your favourite -arguments, and called in your judgment to adjust the arrangement of -words that could not convey its dictates. - -A fallacy of this kind, I think, could not have escaped you when you -were treating the subject that called forth your bitterest -animadversions, the confiscation of the ecclesiastical revenue. Who of -the vindicators of the rights of men ever ventured to assert, that the -clergy of the present day should be punished on account of the -intolerable pride and inhuman cruelty of many of their predecessors[24]? -No; such a thought never entered the mind of those who warred with -inveterate prejudices. A desperate disease required a powerful remedy. -Injustice had no right to rest on prescription; nor has the character of -the present clergy any weight in the argument. - -You find it very difficult to separate policy from justice: in the -political world they have frequently been separated with shameful -dexterity. To mention a recent instance. According to the limited views -of timid, or interested politicians, an abolition of the infernal slave -trade would not only be unsound policy, but a flagrant infringement of -the laws (which are allowed to have been infamous) that induced the -planters to purchase their estates. But is it not consonant with -justice, with the common principles of humanity, not to mention -Christianity, to abolish this abominable mischief? [25]There is not one -argument, one invective, levelled by you at the confiscators of the -church revenue, which could not, with the strictest propriety, be -applied by the planters and negro-drivers to our Parliament, if it -gloriously dared to shew the world that British senators were men: if -the natural feelings of humanity silenced the cold cautions of timidity, -till this stigma on our nature was wiped off, and all men were allowed -to enjoy their birth-right—liberty, till by their crimes they had -authorized society to deprive them of the blessing they had abused. - -The same arguments might be used in India, if any attempt were made to -bring back things to nature, to prove that a man ought never to quit the -cast that confined him to the profession of his lineal forefathers. The -Bramins would doubtless find many ingenious reasons to justify this -debasing, though venerable prejudice; and would not, it is to be -supposed, forget to observe that time, by interweaving the oppressive -law with many useful customs, had rendered it for the present very -convenient, and consequently legal. Almost every vice that has degraded -our nature might be justified by shewing that it had been productive of -_some_ benefit to society: for it would be as difficult to point out -positive evil as unallayed good, in this imperfect state. What indeed -would become of morals, if they had no other test than prescription? The -manners of men may change without end; but, wherever reason receives the -least cultivation—wherever men rise above brutes, morality must rest on -the same base. And the more man discovers of the nature of his mind and -body, the more clearly he is convinced, that to act according to the -dictates of reason is to conform to the law of God. - -The test of honour may be arbitrary and fallacious, and, retiring into -subterfuge, elude close enquiry; but true morality shuns not the day, -nor shrinks from the ordeal of investigation. Most of the happy -revolutions that have taken place in the world have happened when weak -princes held the reins they could not manage; but are they, on that -account, to be canonized as saints or demi-gods, and pushed forward to -notice on the throne of ignorance? Pleasure wants a zest, if experience -cannot compare it with pain; but who courts pain to heighten his -pleasures? A transient view of society will further illustrate arguments -which appear so obvious that I am almost ashamed to produce -illustrations. How many children have been taught œconomy, and many -other virtues, by the extravagant thoughtlessness of their parents; yet -a good education is allowed to be an inestimable blessing. The tenderest -mothers are often the most unhappy wives; but can the good that accrues -from the private distress that produces a sober dignity of mind justify -the inflictor? Right or wrong may be estimated according to the point of -sight, and other adventitious circumstances; but, to discover its real -nature, the enquiry must go deeper than the surface, and beyond the -local consequences that confound good and evil together. The rich and -weak, a numerous train, will certainly applaud your system, and loudly -celebrate your pious reverence for authority and establishments—they -find it pleasanter to enjoy than to think; to justify oppression than -correct abuses.—_The rights of men_ are grating sounds that set their -teeth on edge; the impertinent enquiry of philosophic meddling -innovation. If the poor are in distress, they will make some -_benevolent_ exertions to assist them; they will confer obligations, but -not do justice. Benevolence is a very amiable specious quality; yet the -aversion which men feel to accept a right as a favour, should rather be -extolled as a vestige of native dignity, than stigmatized as the odious -offspring of ingratitude. The poor consider the rich as their lawful -prey; but we ought not too severely to animadvert on their ingratitude. -When they receive an alms they are commonly grateful at the moment; but -old habits quickly return, and cunning has ever been a substitute for -force. - -That both physical and moral evil were not only foreseen, but entered -into the scheme of Providence, when this world was contemplated in the -Divine mind, who can doubt, without robbing Omnipotence of a most -exalted attribute? But the business of the life of a good man should be, -to separate light from darkness; to diffuse happiness, whilst he submits -to unavoidable misery. And a conviction that there is much unavoidable -wretchedness, appointed by the grand Disposer of all events, should not -slacken his exertions: the extent of what is possible can only be -discerned by God. The justice of God may be vindicated by a belief in a -future state; but, only by believing that evil is educing good for the -individual, and not for an imaginary whole. The happiness of the whole -must arise from the happiness of the constituent parts, or the essence -of justice is sacrificed to a supposed grand arrangement. And that may -be good for the whole of a creature’s existence, that disturbs the -comfort of a small portion. The evil which an individual suffers for the -good of the community is partial, it must be allowed, if the account is -settled by death.—But the partial evil which it suffers, during one -stage of existence, to render another stage more perfect, is strictly -just. The Father of all only can regulate the education of his children. -To suppose that, during the whole or part of its existence, the -happiness of any individual is sacrificed to promote the welfare of ten, -or ten thousand, other beings—is impious. But to suppose that the -happiness, or animal enjoyment, of one portion of existence is -sacrificed to improve and ennoble the being itself, and render it -capable of more perfect happiness, is not to reflect on either the -goodness or wisdom of God. - -It may be confidently asserted that no man chooses evil, because it is -evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks. And the -desire of rectifying these mistakes, is the noble ambition of an -enlightened understanding, the impulse of feelings that Philosophy -invigorates. To endeavour to make unhappy men resigned to their fate, is -the tender endeavour of short-sighted benevolence, of transient -yearnings of humanity; but to labour to increase human happiness by -extirpating error, is a masculine godlike affection. This remark may be -carried still further. Men who possess uncommon sensibility, whose quick -emotions shew how closely the eye and heart are connected, soon forget -the most forcible sensations. Not tarrying long enough in the brain to -be subject to reflection, the next sensations, of course, obliterate -them. Memory, however, treasures up these proofs of native goodness; and -the being who is not spurred on to any virtuous act, still thinks itself -of consequence, and boasts of its feelings. Why? Because the sight of -distress, or an affecting narrative, made its blood flow with more -velocity, and the heart, literally speaking, beat with sympathetic -emotion. We ought to beware of confounding mechanical instinctive -sensations with emotions that reason deepens, and justly terms the -feelings of _humanity_. This word discriminates the active exertions of -virtue from the vague declamation of sensibility. - -The declaration of the National Assembly, when they recognized the -rights of men, was calculated to touch the humane heart—the downfall of -the clergy, to agitate the pupil of impulse. On the watch to find fault, -faults met your prying eye; a different prepossession might have -produced a different conviction. - -When we read a book that supports our favourite opinions, how eagerly do -we suck in the doctrines, and suffer our minds placidly to reflect the -images that illustrate the tenets we have previously embraced. We -indolently acquiesce in the conclusion, and our spirit animates and -corrects the various subjects. But when, on the contrary, we peruse a -skilful writer, with whom we do not coincide in opinion, how attentive -is the mind to detect fallacy. And this suspicious coolness often -prevents our being carried away by a stream of natural eloquence, which -the prejudiced mind terms declamation—a pomp of words! We never allow -ourselves to be warmed; and, after contending with the writer, are more -confirmed in our opinion; as much, perhaps, from a spirit of -contradiction as from reason. A lively imagination is ever in danger of -being betrayed into error by favourite opinions, which it almost -personifies, the more effectually to intoxicate the understanding. -Always tending to extremes, truth is left behind in the heat of the -chace, and things are viewed as positively good, or bad, though they -wear an equivocal face. - -Some celebrated writers have supposed that wit and judgment were -incompatible; opposite qualities, that, in a kind of elementary strife, -destroyed each other: and many men of wit have endeavoured to prove that -they were mistaken. Much may be adduced by wits and metaphysicians on -both sides of the question. But, from experience, I am apt to believe -that they do weaken each other, and that great quickness of -comprehension, and facile association of ideas, naturally preclude -profundity of research. Wit is often a lucky hit; the result of a -momentary inspiration. We know not whence it comes, and it blows where -it lifts. The operations of judgment, on the contrary, are cool and -circumspect; and coolness and deliberation are great enemies to -enthusiasm. If wit is of so fine a spirit, that it almost evaporates -when translated into another language, why may not the temperature have -an influence over it? This remark may be thought derogatory to the -inferior qualities of the mind: but it is not a hasty one; and I mention -it as a prelude to a conclusion I have frequently drawn, that the -cultivation of reason damps fancy. The blessings of Heaven lie on each -side; we must choose, if we wish to attain any degree of superiority, -and not lose our lives in laborious idleness. If we mean to build our -knowledge or happiness on a rational basis, we must learn to distinguish -the _possible_, and not fight against the stream. And if we are careful -to guard ourselves from imaginary sorrows and vain fears, we must also -resign many enchanting illusions: for shallow must be the discernment -which fails to discover that raptures and ecstasies arise from -error.—Whether it will always be so, is not now to be discussed; suffice -it to observe, that Truth is seldom arrayed by the Graces; and if she -charms, it is only by inspiring a sober satisfaction, which takes its -rise from a calm contemplation of proportion and simplicity. But, though -it is allowed that one man has by nature more fancy than another, in -each individual there is a spring-tide when fancy should govern and -amalgamate materials for the understanding; and a graver period, when -those materials should be employed by the judgment. For example, I am -inclined to have a better opinion of the heart of an _old_ man, who -speaks of Sterne as his favourite author, than of his understanding. -There are times and seasons for all things: and moralists appear to me -to err, when they would confound the gaiety of youth with the -seriousness of age; for the virtues of age look not only more imposing, -but more natural, when they appear rather rigid. He who has not -exercised his judgment to curb his imagination during the meridian of -life, becomes, in its decline, too often the prey of childish feelings. -Age demands respect; youth love: if this order is disturbed, the -emotions are not pure; and when love for a man in his grand climacteric -takes place of respect, it, generally speaking, borders on contempt. -Judgment is sublime, wit beautiful; and, according to your own theory, -they cannot exist together without impairing each other’s power. The -predominancy of the latter, in your endless Reflections, should lead -hasty readers to suspect that it may, in a great degree, exclude the -former. - -But, among all your plausible arguments, and witty illustrations, your -contempt for the poor always appears conspicuous, and rouses my -indignation. The following paragraph in particular struck me, as -breathing the most tyrannic spirit, and displaying the most factitious -feelings. ‘Good order is the foundation of all good things. To be -enabled to acquire, the people, without being servile, must be tractable -and obedient. The magistrate must have his reverence, the laws their -authority. The body of the people must not find the principles of -natural subordination by art rooted out of their minds. They _must_ -respect that property of which they _cannot_ partake. _They must labour -to obtain what by labour can be obtained; and when they find, as they -commonly do, the success disproportioned to the endeavour, they must be -taught their consolation in the final proportions of eternal justice._ -Of this consolation, whoever deprives them, deadens their industry, and -strikes at the root of all acquisition as of all conservation. He that -does this, is the cruel oppressor, the merciless enemy, of the poor and -wretched; at the same time that, by his wicked speculations, he exposes -the fruits of successful industry, and the accumulations of fortune,’ -(ah! there’s the rub) ‘to the plunder of the negligent, the -disappointed, and the unprosperous[26].’ - -This is contemptible hard-hearted sophistry, in the specious form of -humility, and submission to the will of Heaven.—It is, Sir, _possible_ -to render the poor happier in this world, without depriving them of the -consolation which you gratuitously grant them in the next. They have a -right to more comfort than they at present enjoy; and more comfort might -be afforded them, without encroaching on the pleasures of the rich: not -now waiting to enquire whether the rich have any right to exclusive -pleasures. What do I say?—encroaching! No; if an intercourse were -established between them, it would impart the only true pleasure that -can be snatched in this land of shadows, this hard school of moral -discipline. - -I know, indeed, that there is often something disgusting in the -distresses of poverty, at which the imagination revolts, and starts back -to exercise itself in the more attractive Arcadia of fiction. The rich -man builds a house, art and taste give it the highest finish. His -gardens are planted, and the trees grow to recreate the fancy of the -planter, though the temperature of the climate may rather force him to -avoid the dangerous damps they exhale, than seek the umbrageous retreat. -Every thing on the estate is cherished but man;—yet, to contribute to -the happiness of man, is the most sublime of all enjoyments. But if, -instead of sweeping pleasure-grounds, obelisks, temples, and elegant -cottages, as _objects_ for the eye, the heart was allowed to beat true -to nature, decent farms would be scattered over the estate, and plenty -smile around. Instead of the poor being subject to the griping hand of -an avaricious steward, they would be watched over with fatherly -solicitude, by the man whose duty and pleasure it was to guard their -happiness, and shield from rapacity the beings who, by the sweat of -their brow, exalted him above his fellows. - -I could almost imagine I see a man thus gathering blessings as he -mounted the hill of life; or consolation, in those days when the spirits -lag, and the tired heart finds no pleasure in them. It is not by -squandering alms that the poor can be relieved, or improved—it is the -fostering sun of kindness, the wisdom that finds them employments -calculated to give them habits of virtue, that meliorates their -condition. Love is only the fruit of love; condescension and authority -may produce the obedience you applaud; but he has lost his heart of -flesh who can see a fellow-creature humbled before him, and trembling at -the frown of a being, whose heart is supplied by the same vital current, -and whose pride ought to be checked by a consciousness of having the -same infirmities. - -What salutary dews might not be shed to refresh this thirsty land, if -men were more _enlightened_! Smiles and premiums might encourage -cleanliness, industry, and emulation.—A garden more inviting than Eden -would then meet the eye, and springs of joy murmur on every side. The -clergyman would superintend his own flock, the shepherd would then love -the sheep he daily tended; the school might rear its decent head, and -the buzzing tribe, let loose to play, impart a portion of their -vivacious spirits to the heart that longed to open their minds, and lead -them to taste the pleasures of men. Domestic comfort, the civilizing -relations of husband, brother, and father, would soften labour, and -render life contented. - -Returning once from a despotic country to a part of England well -cultivated, but not very picturesque—with what delight did I not observe -the poor man’s garden!—The homely palings and twining woodbine, with all -the rustic contrivances of simple, unlettered taste, was a sight which -relieved the eye that had wandered indignant from the stately palace to -the pestiferous hovel, and turned from the awful contrast into itself to -mourn the fate of man, and curse the arts of civilization! - -Why cannot large estates be divided into small farms? these dwellings -would indeed grace our land. Why are huge forests still allowed to -stretch out with idle pomp and all the indolence of Eastern grandeur? -Why does the brown waste meet the traveller’s view, when men want work? -But commons cannot be enclosed without _acts of parliament_ to increase -the property of the rich! Why might not the industrious peasant be -allowed to steal a farm from the heath? This sight I have seen;—the cow -that supported the children grazed near the hut, and the cheerful -poultry were fed by the chubby babes, who breathed a bracing air, far -from the diseases and the vices of cities. Domination blasts all these -prospects; virtue can only flourish amongst equals, and the man who -submits to a fellow-creature, because it promotes his worldly interest, -and he who relieves only because it is his duty to lay up a treasure in -heaven, are much on a par, for both are radically degraded by the habits -of their life. - -In this great city, that proudly rears its head, and boasts of its -population and commerce, how much misery lurks in pestilential corners, -whilst idle mendicants assail, on every side, the man who hates to -encourage importers, or repress, with angry frown, the plaints of the -poor! How many mechanics, by a flux of trade or fashion, lose their -employment; whom misfortunes, not to be warded off, lead to the idleness -that vitiates their character and renders them afterwards averse to -honest labour! Where is the eye that marks these evils, more gigantic -than any of the infringements of property, which you piously deprecate? -Are these remediless evils? And is the humane heart satisfied with -turning the poor over to _another_ world, to receive the blessings this -could afford? If society was regulated on a more enlarged plan; if man -was contented to be the friend of man, and did not seek to bury the -sympathies of humanity in the servile appellation of master; if, turning -his eyes from ideal regions of taste and elegance, he laboured to give -the earth he inhabited all the beauty it is capable of receiving, and -was ever on the watch to shed abroad all the happiness which human -nature can enjoy;—he who, respecting the rights of men, wishes to -convince or persuade society that this is true happiness and dignity, is -not the cruel _oppressor_ of the poor, nor a short-sighted -philosopher—HE fears God and loves his fellow-creatures.—Behold the -whole duty of man!—the citizen who acts differently is a sophisticated -being. - -Surveying civilized life, and seeing, with undazzled eye, the polished -vices of the rich, their insincerity, want of natural affections, with -all the specious train that luxury introduces, I have turned impatiently -to the poor, to look for man undebauched by riches or power—but, alas! -what did I see? a being scarcely above the brutes, over which he -tyrannized; a broken spirit, worn-out body, and all those gross vices -which the example of the rich, rudely copied, could produce. Envy built -a wall of separation, that made the poor hate, whilst they bent to their -superiors; who, on their part, stepped aside to avoid the loathsome -sight of human misery. - -What were the outrages of a day[27] to these continual miseries? Let -those sorrows hide their diminished head before the tremendous mountain -of woe that thus defaces our globe! Man preys on man; and you mourn for -the idle tapestry that decorated a gothic pile, and the dronish bell -that summoned the fat priest to prayer. You mourn for the empty pageant -of a name, when slavery flaps her wing, and the sick heart retires to -die in lonely wilds, far from the abodes of men. Did the pangs you felt -for insulted nobility, the anguish that rent your heart when the -gorgeous robes were torn off the idol human weakness had set up, deserve -to be compared with the long-drawn sigh of melancholy reflection, when -misery and vice are thus seen to haunt our steps, and swim on the top of -every cheering prospect? Why is our fancy to be appalled by terrific -perspectives of a hell beyond the grave?—Hell stalks abroad;—the lash -resounds on the slave’s naked sides; and the sick wretch, who can no -longer earn the sour bread of unremitting labour, steals to a ditch to -bid the world a long good night—or, neglected in some ostentatious -hospital, breathes his last amidst the laugh of mercenary attendants. - -Such misery demands more than tears—I pause to recollect myself; and -smother the contempt I feel rising for your rhetorical flourishes and -infantine sensibility. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Taking a retrospective view of my hasty answer, and casting a cursory -glance over your _Reflections_, I perceive that I have not alluded to -several reprehensible passages, in your elaborate work; which I marked -for censure when I first perused it with a steady eye. And now I find it -almost impossible candidly to refute your sophisms, without quoting your -own words, and putting the numerous contradictions I observed in -opposition to each other. This would be an effectual refutation; but, -after such a tedious drudgery, I fear I should only be read by the -patient eye that scarcely wanted my assistance to detect the flagrant -errors. It would be a tedious process to shew, that often the most just -and forcible illustrations are warped to colour over opinions _you_ must -_sometimes_ have secretly despised; or, at least, have discovered, that -what you asserted without limitation, required the greatest. Some -subjects of exaggeration may have been superficially viewed; depth of -judgment is, perhaps, incompatible with the predominant features of your -mind. Your reason may have often been the dupe of your imagination; but -say, did you not sometimes angrily bid her be still, when she whispered -that you were departing from strict truth? Or, when assuming the awful -form of conscience, and only smiling at the vagaries of vanity, did she -not austerely bid you recollect your own errors, before you lifted the -avenging stone? Did she not sometimes wave her hand, when you poured -forth a torrent of shining sentences, and beseech you to concatenate -them—plainly telling you that the impassioned eloquence of the heart was -calculated rather to affect than dazzle the reader, whom it hurried -along to conviction? Did she not anticipate the remark of the wise, who -drink not at a shallow sparkling dream, and tell you that they would -discover when, with the dignity of sincerity, you supported an opinion -that only appeared to you with one face; or, when superannuated vanity -made you torture your invention?—But I forbear. - -I have before animadverted on our method of electing representatives, -convinced that it debauches both the morals of the people and the -candidates, without rendering the member really responsible, or attached -to his constituents; but, amongst your other contradictions, you blame -the National Assembly for expecting any exertions from the servile -principle of responsibility, and afterwards insult them for not -rendering themselves responsible. Whether the one the French have -adopted will answer the purpose better, and be more than a shadow of -representation, time only can shew. In theory it appears more promising. - -Your real or artificial affection for the English constitution seems to -me to resemble the brutal affection of some weak characters. They think -it a duty to love their relations with a blind, indolent tenderness, -that _will not_ see the faults it might assist to correct, if their -affection had been built on rational grounds. They love they know not -why, and they will love to the end of the chapter. - -Is it absolute blasphemy to doubt of the omnipotence of the law, or to -suppose that religion might be more pure if there were fewer baits for -hypocrites in the church? But our manners, you tell us, are drawn from -the French, though you had before celebrated our native plainness[28]. -If they were, it is time we broke loose from dependence——Time that -Englishmen drew water from their own springs; for, if manners are not a -painted substitute for morals, we have only to cultivate our reason, and -we shall not feel the want of an arbitrary model. Nature will suffice; -but I forget myself:—Nature and Reason, according to your system, are -all to give place to authority; and the gods, as Shakespeare makes a -frantic wretch exclaim, seem to kill us for their sport, as men do -flies. - -Before I conclude my cursory remarks, it is but just to acknowledge that -I coincide with you in your opinion respecting the _sincerity_ of many -modern philosophers. Your consistency in avowing a veneration for rank -and riches deserves praise; but I must own that I have often indignantly -observed that some of the _enlightened_ philosophers, who talk most -vehemently of the native rights of men, borrow many noble sentiments to -adorn their conversation, which have no influence on their conduct. They -bow down to rank, and are careful to secure property; for virtue, -without this adventitious drapery, is seldom very respectable in their -eyes—nor are they very quick-sighted to discern real dignity of -character when no sounding name exalts the man above his fellows.—But -neither open enmity nor hollow homage destroys the intrinsic value of -those principles which rest on an eternal foundation, and revert for a -standard to the immutable attributes of God. - - - THE END. - ------ - -Footnote 1: - - As religion is included in my idea of morality, I should not have - mentioned the term without specifying all the simple ideas which that - comprehensive word generalizes; but as the charge of atheism has been - very freely banded about in the letter I am considering, I wish to - guard against misrepresentation. - -Footnote 2: - - See Mr. Burke’s Bills for œconomical reform. - -Footnote 3: - - Page 15. - -Footnote 4: - - ‘The doctrine of _hereditary_ right does by no means imply an - _indefeasible_ right to the throne. No man will, I think, assert this, - that has considered our laws, constitution, and history, without - prejudice, and with any degree of attention. It is unquestionably in - the breast of the supreme legislative authority of this kingdom, the - King and both Houses of Parliament, to defeat this hereditary right; - and, by particular entails, limitations, and provisions, to exclude - the immediate heir, and vest the inheritance in any one else. This is - strictly consonant to our laws and constitution; as may be gathered - from the expression so frequently used in our statute books, of “the - King’s Majesty, his heirs, and successors.” In which we may observe - that, as the word “heirs” necessarily implies an inheritance, or - hereditary right, generally subsisting in “the royal person;” so the - word successors, distinctly taken, must imply that this inheritance - may sometimes be broken through; or, that there may be a successor, - without being the heir of the king.’ - - I shall not, however, rest in something like a subterfuge, and quote, - as partially as you have done, from Aristotle. Blackstone has so - cautiously fenced round his opinion with provisos, that it is obvious - he thought the letter of the law leaned towards your side of the - question—but a blind respect for the law is not a part of my creed. - -Footnote 5: - - Page 113. - -Footnote 6: - - As you ironically observe, p. 114. - -Footnote 7: - - In July, when he first submitted to his people; and not the mobbing - triumphal catastrophe in October, which you chose, to give full scope - to your declamatory powers. - -Footnote 8: - - This quotation is not marked with inverted commas, because it is not - exact. P. 11. - -Footnote 9: - - Page 106. - -Footnote 10: - - I do not now mean to discuss the intricate subject of their mortality; - reason may, perhaps, be given to them in the next stage of existence, - if they are to mount in the scale of life, like men, by the medium of - death. - -Footnote 11: - - Page 128. - -Footnote 12: - - Page 129. - -Footnote 13: - - _Vide_ Reflections, p. 128. “We fear God; we look up with _awe_ to - kings; with _affection_ to parliaments; with _duty_ to magistrates; - with _reverence_ to priests; and with _respect_ to nobility.” - -Footnote 14: - - Page 137. - -Footnote 15: - - ‘When the people have emptied themselves of all the lust of selfish - will, which without religion it is utterly impossible they ever - should; when they are conscious that they exercise, and exercise - perhaps in an higher link of the order of delegation, the power, which - to be legitimate must be according to that eternal immutable law, in - which will and reason are the same, they will be more careful how they - place power in base and incapable hands. In their nomination to - office, they will not appoint to the exercise of authority as to a - pitiful job, but as to an holy function; not according to their sordid - selfish interest, nor to their wanton caprice, nor to their arbitrary - will; but they will confer that power (which any man may well tremble - to give or to receive) on those only, in whom they may discern that - predominant proportion of active virtue and wisdom, taken together and - fitted to the charge, such, as in the great and inevitable mixed mass - of human imperfections and infirmities, is to be found.’ P. 140. - -Footnote 16: - - Page 140. - -Footnote 17: - - Page 148. - -Footnote 18: - - Page 51. ‘If the last generations of your country appeared without - much lustre in your eyes, you might have passed them by, and derived - your claims from a more early race of ancestors. Under a pious - predilection to those ancestors, your imaginations would have realized - in them a standard of virtue and wisdom, beyond the vulgar practice of - the hour: and you would have risen with the example to whose imitation - you aspired. Respecting your forefathers, you would have been taught - to respect yourselves.’ - -Footnote 19: - - Page 53. ‘If diffident of yourselves, and not clearly discerning the - almost obliterated constitution of your ancestors, you had looked to - your neighbours in this land, who had kept alive the ancient - principles and models of the old common law of Europe meliorated and - adapted to its present state—by following wise examples you would have - given new examples of wisdom to the world.’ - -Footnote 20: - - Page 49. ‘Always acting as if in the presence of canonized - forefathers, the spirit of freedom, leading in itself to misrule and - excess, is tempered with an awful gravity. This idea of a liberal - descent inspires us with a sense of habitual native dignity, which - prevents that upstart insolence almost inevitably adhering to and - disgracing those who are the first acquirers of any distinction!’ - -Footnote 21: - - Page 6. ‘Being a citizen of a particular state, and bound up in a - considerable degree, by its _public will_,’ &c. - -Footnote 22: - - Page 11. ‘It looks to me as if I were in a great crisis, not of the - affairs of France alone but of all Europe, perhaps of more than - Europe. All circumstances taken together, the French revolution is the - most astonishing that has hitherto happened in the world.’ - -Footnote 23: - - Page 50. ‘We procure reverence to our civil institutions on the - principle upon which nature teaches us to revere individual men; on - account of their age; and on account of those from whom they are - descended. All your sophisters cannot produce any thing better adapted - to preserve a rational and manly freedom than the course that we have - pursued; who have chosen our nature rather than our speculations, our - breasts rather than our inventions, for the great conservatories and - magazines of our rights and privileges.’ - -Footnote 24: - - _Vide_ Page 210. - -Footnote 25: - - ‘When men are encouraged to go into a certain mode of life by the - existing laws, and protected in that mode as in a lawful - occupation—when they have accommodated _all their ideas, and all their - habits to it_,’ &c.—‘I am sure it is unjust in legislature, by an - arbitrary act, to offer a sudden violence to their minds and their - feelings; forcibly to degrade them from their state and condition, and - to stigmatize with shame and infamy that character and those customs - which before had been made the measure of their happiness.’ Page 230. - -Footnote 26: - - Page 351. - -Footnote 27: - - The 6th of October. - -Footnote 28: - - Page 118. ‘It is not clear, whether in England we learned those grand - and decorous principles, and manners, of which considerable traces yet - remain, from you, or whether you took them from us. But to you, I - think, we trace them best. You seem to me to be—_gentis incunabula - nostræ_. France has always more or less influenced manners in England; - and when your fountain is choaked up and polluted, the stream will not - run long, or not run clear with us, or perhaps with any nation. This - gives all Europe, in my opinion, but too close and connected a concern - in what is done in France.’ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. P. 92, changed “very prejudies” to “very prejudices”. - 2. P. 114, changed “quaities” to “qualities”. - 3. P. 126, changed “triumphant villany” to “triumphant villainy”. - 4. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 5. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 6. Footnotes were re-indexed using numbers and collected together at - the end of the last chapter. - 7. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A vindication of the rights of men, in -a letter to the Right Honourable Edmun, by Mary Wollstonecraft - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF MEN *** - -***** This file should be named 62757-0.txt or 62757-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/7/5/62757/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |