eight pounds a-year, paid a farthing aweek, or a shilling per annum, on every pound. The amount was doubled to those who received from eight to sixteen pounds. Those who had not four pounds a-year, provided they did not receive alms, had at least a penny a-week wrung out of them. So much for the lost golden days of Old England.

the

Of all the bulwarks of the British constitution, the liberty of the press has ever been justly accounted the surest; and it is not unusual, amid its most licentious exercise, to deplore it as no longer existing. We believe, however, it will be found that this right has, since the Revolution, been not only greatly improved, but almost entirely created. In 1692, it appears the House of Commons passed an act continuing the censorship which had been imposed in the reign of Charles II. ;* so that at the precise era of the Revolution, nor for some time after, did there exist even the vestige of a free press. The censorship was taken off, probably in reign of William, though we have not ascertained the precise period; but the prosecution of Tutchins in 1704, as reported at length in the State Trials, may afford a specimen of the ideas then prevalent on the subject of political discussion. The series of libels for which this person was indicted, are in a very moderate strain indeed, compared to those which we see daily issuing from the press with impunity. He complains that preferment is bestowed by interest and favour, rather than merit; that the revenue is seriously injured by the choice of unfit persons to collect it; above all, that naval commands are bestowed on persons wholly unable to exercise them. He insists that the mismanagement of the navy is a greater tax upon the nation than all the ordi

* Smollet, IX. p. 5.

nary taxes put together, and concludes, "we never had a better navy, but the wisdom of the managers thereof is like a bottomless pit." There are also insinuations about the influence of French gold, though they do not seem brought home directly to the ministry. These strictures appeared so daring, that the Attorney-General prefaces them by observing, " It will appear that he has taken the greatest liberty, I believe, that ever man took." He then broadly lays down the law, that "there can be no reflection on them that are in office under her majesty, but must cast some reflection on the queen who employs them;" and the Chief Justice follows up this maxim by observing, " If people should not be called to account for possessing the people with an ill opinion of the government, no government can subsist. Nothing can be worse for any government, than to endeavour to procure animosities as to the management of it; this has been always looked upon as a crime, and no government can be safe without it is punished." These maxims are not denied by Mr Montague, the counsel for the pannel, nor does he attempt to claim for Britons the right of publishing strictures on the measures of administration. He merely contends that there is no individual pointed at ; and rests particularly on a most miserable subterfuge, that navy signifies merely any collection whatever of ships and may apply to a mercantile as well as to the royal navy. Similar language and doctrine will be found in the conduct of the prosecutions for libel, afterwards instituted by the Whig administration, during the decline of their power. About the same time also, most severe measures were taken by the House of Commons, against any criticism upon their proceedings.

+ Vol. XIV. p. 1098, &c.

In

1701, they voted, that "to print or publish any book, or libels, reflecting upon the proceedings of the House of Commons, or any member thereof, for or relating to his service therein, is a high violation of the rights and privileges of the House of Commons."

Among the benefits of a free press, perhaps the most solid and valuable consists in the full publication of the proceedings and debates in parliament. This, however, is a privilege of only recent achievement. The rigidly exclusive system originally enforced, is still attested by a standing order, read at the opening of every session, which directs that no stranger shall be admitted either into the body of the house or the galleries; and that if any have found entrance, he shall be ejected without delay. This order, however, is now read in the face of a large body of auditors, who remain quietly seated, and not a few of whom are in the act of preparing their writing implements for the purpose of recording every thing that is said or done in the house. The right, however, was established only gradually; the speeches were first produced (by Dr Johnson in the Gentleman's Magazine,) under fic. titious names; and it is not, we believe, quite fifty years ago since the report ing of parliamentary debates has been formed into a regular system.

It cannot be denied, that the most plausible theme of the malcontent writers consists in the enormous amount of the national debt, and consequent interminable taxation. The wars, in consequence of which this debt has been accumulated, are represented as undertaken by ministers with the sole view of increasing their own patronage and the influence of the crown, and thus buying the liberties of the nation with its own money. We cannot truly but join in deploring this burden, the most grievous under which any nation has ever laboured. A vast pro

portion of the income of the higher and middling orders is thus transferred from those by whom it is earned or inherited, to the creditors or servants of the state. By the labouring classes, on whose account the lamentation is especially made, we do not believe it is much felt. The income of the nation continues the same, though in different hands; and the whole being spent in the one case as in the other, must equally reach the class who are supported by daily wages, and who, as we have observed, scarcely themselves pay any taxes. As to wars, the people, we apprehend, shew very little knowledge of themselves when they imagine that an extension of popular power would diminish their frequency. All history is here against them. If we look back to the ancient republics, so famed for their polity and wisdom, we find, instead of this boasted prudent and pacific character, nothing but a series of war upon war. The great and wealthy empires, on the contrary, after the ambition of their first founders had run its career, often gladly remained at peace while the cupidity and ambition of their neighbours would suffer them. The most arbitrary of the English dynasties, that of the Tudors, was pacific, and was never engaged in any protracted or extensive war, except the obviously indispensible one, occasioned by the Spanish invasion. James I. carried this disposition still farther, notwithstanding the many claims made upon him by the disasters of his sonin-law the Elector Palatine. Although, however, this was entirely his personal concern, he enjoyed, during his reign, not a moment's rest from the nation demanding to be led into the heart of Germany, to conquer Bohemia and the Palatinate. Only the nearly absolute power then enjoyed by the sovereign, preserved England from this extravagant crusade. Not by its own clamour, but through the rash impetuo

sity of Buckingham, the nation at last got its darling war; and though it presented a continued series of disaster, yet the peace with Spain formed one cause, among many better-founded ones, of Charles's unpopularity. The foreign hostilities of Charles II. were much less acceptable to the nation, whose just indignation was, however, excited, not by the king's engaging in these hostilities, but by his taking the wrong side. The wars of King William and Queen Anne were entirely whig wars, and continued always popular till the nation was quite sickened by the burdens necessary for their support. The same may be said, in a pre-eminent degree of the Spanish war in 1737. If it be the system to undertake wars with a view to extend ministerial influence, Sir Robert Walpole, supposed to be the most diligent and skilful supporter of that system, ought to have been the most warlike of ministers. Every one knows, however, that he was the most pacific Britain ever had; and that he sacrificed all his popularity in delaying to gratify the eager bent of the nation towards hostilities. Perhaps, indeed, there were slen. der grounds for them, either in justice or policy; but vague hopes of plunder, and Jenkins carrying about, wrapt in cotton, the ear which he alleged the Spaniards had cut off, excited such a tide of passion as drowned all sober reflection. Walpole, the slave of power, deemed it needful at last to sail with the stream; but the war thus reluctantly undertaken, instead of strengthening his influence according to the modern theory, soon created a parliamentary majority, which drove him from office. The war of 1756 was entirely popular, and the peace made by the crown contrary to the inclination of the people. The American war had doubtless a court object; but no one, we presume, will be so hardy as to assert, that so great an insurrection was

created with the mere view of increa sing the crown influence at home. The domineering measures which provoked it, had the general acquiescence at least of the nation, with the exception of that part immediately concerned in the American trade. Even the most violent steps, and those which most directly drove the colonies into rebellion

the shutting the port of Boston,the disfranchisement of Massachussets, &c. were carried in parliament, either unanimously, or by the most sweeping majorities. If it be said, that this was merely the influence of the ministry bearing down all before it, why, then, we ask, did the same parliament, a few years after, turn out the same ministry, fortified by all the patronage of an extended war-establishment? We come next to the revolutionary war, on which dread debateable ground we do not mean much to expatiate. It, too, was certainly in some degree a court, or at least an aristocratic war. It met the full support of the aristocracy, as testified by the immense burdens which they cheerfully bore, and the relief from which with difficulty reconciled them to the peace of Amiens. The renewal of the war in 1803 took place most reluctantly on the part of ministers, who had come in entirely upon a pacific basis. They were driven into it by the united cries of the nation, tory and whig,-the latter more especially; one main source arising from the vehement quarrel maintained between Buonaparte and the English newspapers. The ministry sought in vain, by gratifying the people, to retain their places, from which they were soon after driven. Here, by the way, we may observe, that each of the three instances in which an entire ministry was removed by the interference of parliament, took place in the midst of a great war, and solely in consequence of that war. This surely savours little of the reigning theory as to war produ

cing such a vast extension of ministerial influence, and being undertaken solely with a view to that effect. After a vast expenditure of blood and treasure, peace was at length attained; and it may be said, that the nation, taught by such severe experience, would not again concur in any war which could possibly be avoided. This we greatly doubt. We are convinced, that even now, when weighed down with such a load of taxes, and crying aloud under it, there are wars in which the nation would gladly embark. If war had been undertaken in favour of the South American colonies, or if it were undertaken in support of the representative states formed in the South of Europe, would it not be popular? Have not the opposition prints repeatedly derided the neutrality adhered to by ministers? This remark we make, not in censure or derision of sentiments, which, to a certain extent, we share ; but merely to shew, that the voice of the people is still for war;-that the excitement, the animation, the news with which it is pregnant, are still grateful to them.

In considering now the future pros. pects as to the relative power of the crown and the people, we see many circumstances tending to make the scale of the latter preponderate. An immense mass of patronage has certainly been lost to the crown, by the reduction of the war-establishment. The army and navy are no longer looked to by men of all ranks, as channels by which a part of their family may be employed and advanced. A considerable number of sinecures and over-paid appointments have been lately retrenched by a laudable zeal for public economy; and numerous contracts, which were among the richest boons that government had to bestow, were, by the arrangements of Mr Pitt, disposed of by open competition. Taxes, we may observe, have a double action; for,

This

while the disposal of their produce strengthens the influence of government, the levying of them is the most powerful of all stimuli to that patriotism which consists in hostility to the existing powers. But the situation of the British executive is now peculiar ; for, in consequence of the immense amount of debt, it has no controul over two thirds of its own revenue. must be paid to the public creditor, who receives it as a right, and returns no thanks. Of the remainder also, no profit accrues, from the large proportion paid as wages to common soldiers and sailors, who, instead of soliciting employment as a favour, must be bribed to accept, and compelled to remain in it. We may fairly conclude, there fore, that the British administration do not enjoy the benefit of one fourth of the revenue, of which they suffer the odium.

After all this, we are aware it may be urged, that, allowing the power of the crown not to have increased,-to have even sensibly diminished, still if the public benefit would be promoted by reducing it still lower, and if the nation be ripe for a more popular form of government, are they not justified in seeking to attain it. We do not mean to say so. If there really exist among any people materials for a better government than they actually enjoy, he who earns it for them may attain the fame of a patriot and legislator. Still, of all operations, this is the most delicate, and calls for the most serious preliminary consideration. dict the precise ultimate consequences of any great political change, seems a lesson which experience has not yet taught to mankind. Nothing, indeed, is more common than for the most su perficial politician to announce, with full assurance, what will be the result of his own plans; but the event usually belies all these confident predictions. The architect who frames his edifice

To pre

with fixed and passive materials, is in a very different situation from him whose materials are continually moving under his hands, and have impulses from within themselves more powerful than that which he endeavours to communicate to them. There is in every society a vast latent mass of talent and ambition, greatly beyond what can find scope in its ordinary circumstances, but which, when the usual restraints are taken off, and when a new field is opened, speedily burst forth, and display phenomena never dreamt of by the first innovators. How often, in a revolutionary movement, do we see all the first actors, forms, and principles, swept away, and those which supplanted them supplanted by others, till at last an issue is produced, directly the reverse of that originally contemplated. It is not, therefore, without reason, that nations have usually declined making any sudden radical change, unless in cases where matters come to such an extremity that no change could be for the worse. We are well aware, that our antagonists are ready to meet us upon this ground, and loudly to proclaim, that the supposed case finds in them its ample fulfilment; that no situation can be more miserable and deplorable,than that in which they find themselves involved. We heartily wish it were in our power to prove this lamentation to be as wholly groundless as that made over the loss of British liberties. But it is evident, that the evils which drive a nation to a revolution at any cost, must be not evils simply, but evils suffered from the misconduct or oppression of the ruling powers. If natural and inevitable, they can only be aggravated by throwing the political machine into a state of disorder. Now the two evils under which Britain labours, and of which we have fully admitted the existence, are heavy taxes, and the want of customers for her goods. As to the former, its weight arises mainly from the long wars

in which we have been engaged. Now, be these wars necessary or unnecessary, just or unjust, they are over; and there evidently does not exist the least project or intention in any quarter of renewing them. There is nothing urgent, therefore, in an evil, the cause of which has entirely ceased; even supposing that it really were more likely to prove a remedy than there has appeared any reason to expect. After all, the second evil is by much the heaviest. Taxes operate only where there is an income, they take away only a proportion of it; and, unless in the case of the rich, not a very large proportion. Want of employment falls upon the most industrious and deserving classes; not merely narrowing their circumstances, but reducing them to want and bankruptcy ;-the labourer and his family, whom taxes could scarcely reach, are stripped by it of their daily bread. Yet this is a point so little within the competence of government, that all efforts made by the legislature to remedy it are now fully proved to have no possible effect, but that of aggravating the evil. The only radical remedy would be the justly deprecated and ultimately fatal one, of recurring to a state of war.

We have thus endeavoured to shew, both that change is dangerous, and that there is no urgent call for it; but, supposing these objections overruled, we are not unprepared to discuss the question, whether there be any by which the British Constitution would be materially improved. We shall begin with the executive branch, that mark set up for all the arrows of our patriotic reformers. With them every thing regal is the object of invective or derision; and legitimacy has become a regular term of reproach. For our parts, we openly profess ourselves adherents of royalty, of legitimacy, and if there be yet another name more frightful and more odious, meaning the