Cromwell, when he attempted to legalize his power, and to settle his conquered country in a state of order, did not look for dispensers of justice in the instruments of his usurpation. Quite the contrary. He sought out, with great solicitude and selection, and even from the party most opposite to his designs, men of weight and decorum of character; men unstained with the violence of the times, and with hands not fouled with confiscation and sacrilege: for he chose an HALE for his chief justice, though he absolutely refused to take his civic oaths, or to make any acknowledgment whatsoever of the legality of his government. Cromwell told this great lawyer, that since he did not approve his title, all he required of him was, to administer, in a manner agreeable to his pure sentiments and unspotted character, that justice without which human society cannot subsist: that it was not his particular government, but civil order itself, which, as a judge, he wished him to support. Cromwell knew how to separate the institutions expedient to his usurpation from the administration of the public justice of his country. For Cromwell was a man in whom ambition had not wholly suppressed, but only suspended, the sentiments of religion, and the love (as far as it could consist with his designs) of fair and honourable reputation. Accordingly, we are indebted to this act of his for the preservation of our laws, which some senseless assertors of the rights of men were then on the point of entirely erasing, as relics of feudality and barbarism. Besides, he gave in the appointment of that man, to that age, and to all posterity, the most brilliant example of sincere and fervent piety, exact justice, and profound jurisprudence. (See Burnet's Life of Hale.) But these are not the things in which your philosophic usurpers choose to follow Cromwell.
One would think, that after an honest and necessary revolution (if they had a mind that theirs should pass for such) your masters would have imitated the virtuous policy of those who have been at the head of revolutions of that glorious character. Burnet tells us, that nothing tended to reconcile the English nation to the government of King William so much as the care he took to fill the vacant bishoprics with men who had attracted the public esteem by their learning, eloquence, and piety, and, above all, by their known moderation in the state. With you, in your purifying revolution, whom have you chosen to regulate the church? Mr. Mirabeau is a fine speaker—and a fine writer,—and a fine—a very fine man;—but really nothing gave more surprise to everybody here, than to find him the supreme head of your ecclesiastical affairs. The rest is of course. Your Assembly addresses a manifesto to France, in which they tell the people, with an insulting irony, that they have brought the church to its primitive condition. In one respect their declaration is undoubtedly true; for they have brought it to a state of poverty and persecution. What can be hoped for after this? Have not men (if they deserve the name), under this new hope and head of the church, been made bishops for no other merit than having acted as instruments of atheists; for no other merit than having thrown the children's bread to dogs; and in order to gorge the whole gang of usurers, pedlars, and itinerant Jew-discounters at the corners of streets, starved the poor of their Christian flocks, and their own brother pastors? Have not such men been made bishops to administer in temples, in which (if the patriotic donations have not already stripped them of their vessels) the churchwardens ought to take security for the altar-plate, and not so much as to trust the chalice in their sacrilegious hands, so long as Jews have assignats on ecclesiastic plunder, to exchange for the silver stolen from churches?
An air of robustness and strength is very prejudicial to beauty. An appearance of DELICACY, and even of fragility, is almost essential to it. Whoever examines the vegetable or animal creation will find this observation to be founded in nature. It is not the oak, the ash, or the elm, or any of the robust trees of the forest, which we consider as beautiful; they are awful and majestic; their inspire a sort of reverence. It is the delicate myrtle, it is the orange, it is the almond, it is the jasmine, it is the vine, which we look on as vegetable beauties. It is the flowery species, so remarkable for its weakness and momentary duration, that gives us the liveliest idea of beauty and elegance. Among animals, the greyhound is more beautiful than the mastiff; and the delicacy of a gennet, a barb, or an Arabian horse, is much more amiable than the strength and stability of some horses of war or carriage. I need here say little of the fair sex, where I believe the point will be easily allowed me. The beauty of women is considerably owing to their weakness or delicacy, and is even enhanced by their timidity, a quality of mind analogous to it. I would not here be understood to say, that weakness betraying very bad health has any share in beauty; but the ill effect of this is not because it is weakness, but because the ill state of health, which produces such weakness, alters the other conditions of beauty; the parts in such a case collapse; the bright colour,—the lumen purpureum juventae, is gone; and the fine variation is lost in wrinkles, sudden breaks, and right lines.
As to the operation of the first (the confiscation and paper currency) merely as a cement, I cannot deny that these, the one depending on the other, may for some time compose some sort of cement, if their madness and folly in the management, and in the tempering of the parts together, does not produce a repulsion in the very outset. But allowing to the scheme some coherence and some duration, it appears to me, that if, after a while, the confiscation should not be found sufficient to support the paper coinage (as I am morally certain it will not), then, instead of cementing, it will add infinitely to the dissociation, distraction, and confusion of these confederate republics, both with relation to each other, and to the several parts within themselves. But if the confiscation should so far succeed as to sink the paper currency, the cement is gone with the circulation. In the mean time its binding force will be very uncertain, and it will straiten or relax with every variation in the credit of the paper.
One thing only is certain in this scheme, which is an effect seemingly collateral, but direct, I have no doubt, in the minds of those who conduct this business, that is, its effect in producing an OLIGARCHY in every one of the republics. A paper circulation, not founded on any real money deposited or engaged for, amounting already to four-and-forty millions of English money, and this currency by force substituted in the place of the coin of the kingdom, becoming thereby the substance of its revenue, as well as the medium of all its commercial and civil intercourse, must put the whole of what power, authority, and influence, is left, in any form whatsoever it may assume, into the hands of the managers and conductors of this circulation.
In England we feel the influence of the bank; though it is only the centre of a voluntary dealing. He knows little indeed of the influence of money upon mankind, who does not see the force of the management of a monied concern, which is so much more extensive, and in its nature so much more depending on the managers than any of ours. But this is not merely a money concern. There is another member in the system inseparably connected with this money management. It consists in the means of drawing out at discretion portions of the confiscated lands for sale; and carrying on a process of continual transmutation of paper into land, and of land into paper. When we follow this process in its effects, we may conceive something of the intensity of the force with which this system must operate. By this means the spirit of money-jobbing and speculation goes into the mass of land itself, and incorporates with it. By this kind of operation, that species of property becomes (as it were) volatilized; it assumes an unnatural and monstrous activity, and thereby throws into the hands of the several managers, principal and subordinate, Parisian and provincial, all the representative of money, and perhaps a full tenth part of all the land in France, which has now acquired the worst and most pernicious part of the evil of a paper circulation,—the greatest possible uncertainty in its value. They have reversed the Latonian kindness to the landed property of Delos. They have sent theirs to be blown about, like the light fragments of a wreck, oras et littora circum.
The new dealers, being all habitually adventurers, and without any fixed habits or local predilections, will purchase to job out again, as the market of paper, or of money, or of land, shall present an advantage. For though a holy bishop thinks that agriculture will derive great advantage from the "ENLIGHTENED" usurers who are to purchase the church confiscations, I, who am not a good, but an old farmer, with great humility beg leave to tell his late lordship, that usury is not tutor of agriculture; and if the word "enlightened" be understood according to the new dictionary, as it always is in your new schools, I cannot conceive how a man's not believing in God can teach him to cultivate the earth with the least of any additional skill or encouragement. "Diis immortalibus sero," said an old Roman, when he held one handle of the plough, whilst Death held the other. Though you were to join in the commission all the directors of the two academies to the directors of the Caisse d'Escompte, an old experienced peasant is worth them all. I have got more information upon a curious and interesting branch of husbandry, in one short conversation with an old Carthusian monk, than I have derived from all the Bank directors that I have ever conversed with. However, there is no cause for apprehension from the meddling of money-dealers with rural economy. These gentlemen are too wise in their generation. At first, perhaps, their tender and susceptible imaginations may be captivated with the innocent and unprofitable delights of a pastoral life; but in a little time they will find that agriculture is a trade much more laborious, and much less lucrative, than that which they had left. After making its panegyric, they will turn their backs on it like their great precursor and prototype. They may, like him, begin by singing "Beatus ille"—but what will be the end?
"Haec ubi locutus foenerator Alphius,Jamjam futurus rusticusOmnem relegit Idibus pecuniam;Quaerit Calendis ponere."
They will cultivate the Caisse d'Eglise, under the sacred auspices of this prelate, with much more profit than its vineyards and its corn-fields. They will employ their talents according to their habits and their interests. They will not follow the plough whilst they can direct treasuries, and govern provinces.
Your legislators, in everything new, are the very first who have founded a commonwealth upon gaming, and infused this spirit into it, as its vital breath. The great object in these politics is to metamorphose France from a great kingdom into one great play-table: to turn its inhabitants into a nation of gamesters; to make speculation as extensive as life; to mix it with all its concerns; and to divert the whole of the hopes and fears of the people from their usual channels into the impulses, passions, and superstitions of those who live on chances. They loudly proclaim their opinion, that this their present system of a republic cannot possibly exist without this kind of gaming fund; and that the very thread of its life is spun out of the staple of these speculations. The old gaming in funds was mischievous enough undoubtedly; but it was so only to individuals. Even when it had its greatest extent in the Mississippi and South Sea, it affected but few, comparatively; where it extends further, as in lotteries, the spirit has but a single object. But where the law, which in most circumstances forbids, and in none countenances, gaming, is itself debauched, so as to reverse its nature and policy, and expressly to force the subject to this destructive table, by bringing the spirit and symbols of gaming into the minutest matters, and engaging everybody in it, and in everything, a more dreadful epidemic distemper of that kind is spread than yet has appeared in the world. With you a man can neither earn nor buy his dinner without a speculation. What he receives in the morning will not have the same value at night. What he is compelled to take as pay for an old debt will not be received as the same when he comes to pay a debt contracted by himself; nor will it be the same when by prompt payment he would avoid contracting any debt at all. Industry must wither away. Economy must be driven from your country. Careful provision will have no existence. Who will labour without knowing the amount of his pay? Who will study to increase what none can estimate? Who will accumulate, when he does not know the value of what he saves? If you abstract it from its uses in gaming, to accumulate your paper wealth, would be not the providence of a man, but the distempered instinct of a jackdaw.
Their fanatical confidence in the omnipotence of church plunder has induced these philosophers to overlook all care of the public estate, just as the dream of the philosopher's stone induces dupes, under the more plausible delusion of the hermetic art, to neglect all rational means of improving their fortunes. With these philosophic financiers, this universal medicine made of church mummy is to cure all the evils of the state. These gentlemen, perhaps, do not believe a great deal in the miracles of piety; but it cannot be questioned, that they have an undoubting faith in the prodigies of sacrilege. Is there a debt which presses them?—Issue assignats. Are compensations to be made, or a maintenance decreed to those whom they have robbed of their freehold in their office, or expelled from their profession?—Assignats. Is a fleet to be fitted out?—Assignats. If sixteen millions sterling of these assignats, forced on the people, leave the wants of the state as urgent as ever—issue, says one, thirty millions sterling of assignats—says another, issue fourscore millions more of assignats. The only difference among their financial factions is on the greater or the lesser quantity of assignats to be imposed on the public sufferance. They are all professors of assignats. Even those, whose natural good sense and knowledge of commerce, not obliterated by philosophy, furnish decisive arguments against this delusion conclude their arguments by proposing the emission of assignats. I suppose they must talk of assignats, as no other language would be understood. All experience of their inefficacy does not in the least discourage them. Are the old assignats depreciated at market? What is the remedy? Issue new assignats.—Mais si maladia opiniatria, non vult se garire, quid illi facere? assignare—postea assignare; ensuita assignare. The word is a trifle altered. The Latin of your present doctors may be better than that of your old comedy; their wisdom and the variety of their resources are the same. They have not more notes in their song than the cuckoo; though, far from the softness of that harbinger of summer and plenty, their voice is as harsh and as ominous as that of the raven.
It may, perhaps, appear like a sort of repetition of what we have before said, to insist here upon the nature of UGLINESS; as I imagine it to be in all respects the opposite to those qualities which we have laid down for the constituents of beauty. But though ugliness be the opposite to beauty, it is not the opposite to proportion and fitness. For it is possible that a thing may be very ugly with any proportions, and with a perfect fitness to any uses. Ugliness I imagine likewise to be consistent enough with an idea of the sublime. But I would by no means insinuate that ugliness of itself is a sublime idea, unless united with such qualities as excite a strong terror.
GRACEFULNESS is an idea not very different from beauty; it consists in much the same things. Gracefulness is an idea belonging to POSTURE and MOTION. In both these, to be graceful, it is requisite that there be no appearance of difficulty; there is required a small inflection of the body; and a composure of the parts in such a manner, as not to encumber each other, not to appear divided by sharp and sudden angles. In this ease, this roundness, this delicacy of attitude and motion, it is that all the magic of grace consists, and what is called its je ne sais quoi; as will be obvious to any observer, who considers attentively the Venus de Medicis, the Antinous, or any statue generally allowed to be graceful in a high degree.
When any body is composed of parts smooth and polished, without pressing upon each other, without showing any ruggedness or confusion, and at the same time affecting some REGULAR SHAPE, I call it ELEGANT. It is closely allied to the beautiful, differing from it only in this REGULARITY; which, however, as it makes a very material difference in the affection produced, may very well constitute another species. Under this head I rank those delicate and regular works of art, that imitate no determinate object in nature, as elegant buildings, and pieces of furniture. When any object partakes of the above-mentioned qualities, are of those of beautiful bodies, and is withal of great dimensions, it is full as remote from the idea of mere beauty: I call it FINE or SPECIOUS.
The foregoing description of beauty, so far as it is taken in by the eye, may be greatly illustrated by describing the nature of objects which produce a similar effect through the touch. This I call the beautiful in FEELING. It corresponds wonderfully with what causes the same species of pleasure to the sight. There is a chain in all our sensations; they are all but different sorts of feelings calculated to be affected by various sorts of objects, but all to be affected after the same manner. All bodies that are pleasant to the touch, are so by the slightness of the resistance they make. Resistance is either to motion along the surface, or to the pressure of the parts on one another: if the former be slight, we call the body smooth; if the latter, soft. The chief pleasure we receive by feeling, is in the one or the other of these qualities; and if there be a combination of both, our pleasure is greatly increased. This is so plain, that it is rather more fit to illustrate other things, than to be illustrated itself by an example. The next source of pleasure in this sense, as in every other, is the continually presenting somewhat new; and we find that bodies which continually vary their surface, are much the most pleasant or beautiful to the feeling, as any one that pleases may experience. The third property in such objects is, that though the surface continually varies its direction, it never varies it suddenly. The application of anything sudden, even though the impression itself have little or nothing of violence, is disagreeable. The quick application of a finger a little warmer or colder than usual, without notice, makes us start; a slight tap on the shoulder, not expected, has the same effect. Hence it is that angular bodies, bodies that suddenly vary the direction of the outline, afford so little pleasure to the feeling. Every such change is a sort of climbing or falling in miniature; so that squares, triangles, and other angular figures, are neither beautiful to the sight nor feeling. Whoever compares his state of mind, on feeling soft, smooth, variated, unangular bodies, with that in which he finds himself on the view of a beautiful object, will perceive a very striking analogy in the effects of both; and which may go a good way towards discovering their common cause. Feeling and sight, in this respect, differ in but a few points. The touch takes in the pleasure of softness, which is not primarily an object of sight; the sight, on the other hand, comprehends colour, which can hardly be made perceptible to the touch: the touch again has the advantage in a new idea of pleasure resulting from a moderate degree of warmth; but the eye triumphs in the infinite extent and multiplicity of its objects. But there is such a similitude in the pleasures of these senses, that I am apt to fancy, if it were possible that one might discern colour by feeling (as it is said some blind men have done), that the same colours, and the same disposition of colouring, which are found beautiful to the sight, would be found likewise most grateful to the touch. But, setting aside conjectures, let us pass to the other sense: of Hearing.
In this sense we find an equal aptitude to be affected in a soft and delicate manner; and how far sweet or beautiful sounds agree with our descriptions of beauty in other senses, the experience of every one must decide. Milton has described this species of music in one of his juvenile poems. (L'Allegro.) I need not say that Milton was perfectly well versed in that art; and that no man had a finer ear, with a happier manner of expressing the affections of one sense by metaphors taken from another. The description is as follows:—
—"And ever against eating cares,Lap me in SOFT Lydian airs:In notes with many a WINDING boutOf LINKED SWEETNESS LONG DRAWN out;With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,The MELTING voice through MAZES running;UNTWISTING all the chains that tieThe hidden soul of harmony."
Let us parallel this with the softness, the winding surface, the unbroken continuance, the easy gradation of the beautiful in other things; and all the diversities of the several senses, with all their several affections; will rather help to throw lights from one another to finish one clear, consistent idea of the whole, than to obscure it by their intricacy and variety.
To the above-mentioned description I shall add one or two remarks. The first is; that the beautiful in music will not bear that loudness and strength of sounds, which may be used to raise other passions; nor notes which are shrill or harsh, or deep; it agrees best with such as are clear, even, smooth, and weak. The second is: that great variety, and quick transitions from one measure or tone to another, are contrary to the genius of the beautiful in music. Such transitions often excite mirth, or other sudden or tumultuous passions; but not that sinking, that melting, that languor, which is the characteristical effect of the beautiful as it regards every sense. (I ne'er am merry when I hear sweet music.—Shakspeare.) The passion excited by beauty is in fact nearer to a species of melancholy, than to jollity and mirth. I do not here mean to confine music to any one species of notes, or tones, neither is it an art in which I can say I have any great skill. My sole design in this remark is, to settle a consistent idea of beauty. The infinite variety of the affections of the soul will suggest to a good head, and skilful ear, a variety of such sounds as are fitted to raise them. It can be no prejudice to this, to clear and distinguish some few particulars, that belong to the same class, and are consistent with each other, from the immense crowd of different, and sometimes contradictory, ideas, that rank vulgarly under the standard of beauty. And of these it is my intention to mark such only of the leading points as show the conformity of the sense of hearing with the other senses, in the article of their pleasures.
It is something extraordinary, that the only symptom of alarm in the Church of England should appear in the petition of some dissenters; with whom, I believe, very few in this house are yet acquainted; and of whom you know no more than that you are assured by the honourable gentleman, that they are not Mahometans. Of the Church we know they are not, by the name that they assume. They are then dissenters. The first symptom of an alarm comes from some dissenters assembled round the lines of Chatham; these lines become the security of the Church of England! The honourable gentleman, in speaking of the lines of Chatham, tells us that they serve not only for the security of the wooden walls of England, but for the defence of the Church of England. I suspect the wooden walls of England secure the lines of Chatham, rather than the lines of Chatham secure the wooden walls of England.
Sir, the Church of England, if only defended by this miserable petition upon your table, must, I am afraid, upon the principles of true fortification, be soon destroyed. But fortunately her walls, bulwarks, and bastions, are constructed of other materials than of stubble and straw; are built up with the strong and stable matter of the gospel of liberty, and founded on a true, constitutional, legal establishment. But, Sir, she has other securities; she has the security of her own doctrines; she has the security of the piety, the sanctity of her own professors; their learning is a bulwark to defend her; she has the security of the two universities, not shook in any single battlement, in any single pinnacle. ...
But if, after all, this danger is to be apprehended, if you are really fearful that Christianity will indirectly suffer by this liberty, you have my free consent; go directly, and by the straight way, and not by a circuit, in which in your road you may destroy your friends, point your arms against these men who do the mischief you fear promoting; point your arms against men, who, not contented with endeavouring to turn your eyes from the blaze and effulgence of light, by which life and immortality is so gloriously demonstrated by the Gospel, would even extinguish that faint glimmering of nature, that only comfort supplied to ignorant man before this great illumination—them who, by attacking even the possibility of all revelation, arraign all the dispensations of Providence to man. These are the wicked dissenters you ought to fear; these are the people against whom you ought to aim the shafts of law; these are the men to whom, arrayed in all the terrors of government, I would say, You shall not degrade us into brutes; these men, these factious men, as the honourable gentleman properly called them, are the just objects of vengeance, not the conscientious dissenter; these men, who would take away whatever ennobles the rank or consoles the misfortunes of human nature, by breaking off that connection of observations, of affections, of hopes and fears, which bind us to the Divinity, and constitute the glorious and distinguishing prerogative of humanity, that of being a religious creature; against these I would have the laws rise in all their majesty of terrors, to fulminate such vain and impious wretches, and to awe them into impotence by the only dread they can fear or believe, to learn that eternal lesson—Discite justitiam moniti, et non temnere Divos.
At the same time that I would cut up the very root of atheism, I would respect all conscience; all conscience, that is really such, and which perhaps its very tenderness proves to be sincere. I wish to see the established Church of England great and powerful; I wish to see her foundations laid low and deep, that she may crush the giant powers of rebellious darkness; I would have her head raised up to that heaven to which she conducts us. I would have her open wide her hospitable gates by a noble and liberal comprehension; but I would have no breaches in her wall; I would have her cherish all those who are within, and pity all those who are without; I would have her a common blessing to the world, an example, if not an instructor, to those who have not the happiness to belong to her; I would have her give a lesson of peace to mankind, that a vexed and wandering generation might be taught to seek for repose and toleration in the maternal bosom of Christian charity, and not in the harlot lap of infidelity and indifference.
Abstract views, on the danger of.
Abstract words, effects of.
Accumulation a state principle.
Administration and legislation, on the due balance of.
Age, our own, on the injustice paid to.
Alfred the Great, political genius of.—the promoter of learning.—his religious character.
Ambassadors of infamy, their tyranny.
Ambition, incentives of.—disappointed, picture of.
America, great national progress of.—on her resistance to taxation.—on her early colonization, and the greatness of her future.—on the Protestantism of.—on the embassy of England to.
Analogy, on the pleasures of.
Anarchy contrasted and compared with reformation.
Architecture, influence of.
Armed discipline, necessity of.
Art, on correct judgment in.
"Articles" of the Church, necessity of the.
Atheism, atrocious principles of.—incapable of repentance.
Atheists, literary, their proselytism and bigotry.
Attraction, Newton's discovery of the property of.
Authority, abuses of, dangerous.
Axioms, political.
Barons, English, on the restraints imposed upon the.
Bathurst, Lord, on his recollections of American colonization.
Beautiful, what constitutes the.—in feeling, Burke's ideas of.—in sounds, on our general ideas of.
Beauty, delicacy essential to.—female, on the influence of.
Bedford, duke of, on the royal grants to.—on his attacks on Mr. Burke.—reply to "his Grace."
Bribery, objects and evils of.
Britain, her war with France vindicated.—state of, at the time of the Saxon conquest.—the ancient inhabitants of.
British dominion in the East Indies, on the extent of.
British stability, on the principles and duration of.
Building, on magnitude in, necessary to sublimity.
Burke, Edmund, his defence of his political principles.—the design of, in his greatest work.
Cabal, on the tactics of.
Candid policy, on the advantages of, to a government.
Carnatic, dreadful scenes in the.—war and desolation of the.
Carnot, the sanguinary tyranny of.
Character, private, a basis for public confidence.
Charlemagne, on the conquests of.
Chatham, Lord, his great qualities.—his political errors.
Chivalry, on the moralizing charm of.
Christian religion, the idea of divinity humanized by the. —state of, at the time of the Saxon conquest.
Christianity, on the profession of.—means adopted for its early establishment.
Church of England, its outward dignity defended.—the state consecrated by the.—on the "Articles" of the.—eulogy on the.
Church and State, on the unity between.—one and the same in a Christian commonwealth.
"Church plunder, omnipotence of!"
Church property, on the existence and preservation of.
Circumstances, on the nature of.
Civil freedom a blessing, and not an abstract speculation.
Civil list, advantages of reform in the.
Civil rights, on the nature of.
Civil society, on the true basis of.
Claims, personal and ancestral.
Coalitions, false, instability of.
Colonies, on the art of cementing the ties of.—on their right to the advantages of the British constitution.—on their progress.
Combination, distinct from faction.
Commerce, one of the great sources of our power.—on the philosophy of.
Common law, on its ancient constitution.
Common Pleas, on the early establishment of.
Commons. See "House of."
Commonwealth, on the science of constructing a.
Comparison, utility and advantages of.
Concession, on the wisdom of, on the part of a government.
Confidence of the people, necessity of the.—political, dangers of.—public, private character a basis for.—reciprocal, on the necessity of.
Confiscation, arising from the paper currency.
Conservation, progress and principles of.
Constituents, on the power and control of.
Constitution of England, liberty its distinguishing feature.—on the right of the colonies to its advantages.—not fabricated but inherited.—majesty of the.—not the slave of the people.
Consumption and produce, the balance between settles the price of.
Contact, on the assimilating power of.
Contracted views, on the pettiness of.
Conway, General, eulogy on.
Corporate reform, on the difficulty and wisdom of.
Correction, on the principle of, in connection with conservation.
Corruption, public, evil consequences of.—cannot be self-reformed.
Cowardice, political, contemptibility of.
Credit, national, on the advantages of.
Cromwell, the government of, contrasted with that of the French revolution.
Crown, its influence.—on pensions from the.—its prerogative.—on the hereditary succession of the.
Cruelty, political, reckless oppression of.
Curiosity, the most superficial of all the affections.
Danes, their early dominion.
"Declaration of 1793," against France.
Deity, contemplation of his attributes.
Delicacy essential to beauty.
Democracy, a perfect one the most shameless thing in the world.—its resemblance to tyranny.
Democrats, inconsistency of.
Despotism courts obscurity, and shuns the light.—on the defective policy of.—of the age of Louis XIV., a mere gilded tyranny.—monarchical, preferable to republican.
D'Espremenil, sacrifice of.
Difficulty, on contentions with.
Directory of France, its insolent assumption.
Dissent, on Dr. Price's preaching the democracy of.
Dissenters, animadversions on the.
Distraction, on the evils of.
Divine power, its influences on the human idea.
Divinity, our idea of the, humanized by the Christian religion.
Druids, their knowledge and influence.
Duty, not based on will.
East-India Company, on the bill for controlling the political power of.—See "India."
Ecclesiastical confiscation, on the injustice of.
Economy, on the state principles of.—does not consist of parsimony.—and public spirit, advantage of.
Election, on Wilkes's right of.
Elections, frequent, on the evil tendency of.—expenses of.
Electors, on the conduct and duties of.
Elegance, Burke's ideas of.
Elizabeth, Princess, of France, sanguinary treatment of.
England, on the magnanimity of her people.
English character, on French ignorance of.
Establishments, ancient, on the advantages of.
Eternity little understood.
Etiquette, on its ancient and modern application.
Europe, on the state of, in 1789.—at the time of the Norman invasion.
European community, on the principles of.
Exaggeration, evils of.
Extremes, on the fallacy of.
Eye, the, its characteristics of beauty.
Faction, combination distinct from.—what it ought to teach.
Falkland Island, fisheries extended to.
False regret, to be lamented.
Favouritism of government the cause of popular ferment.
Female beauty, on the influence of.
Feudal baronage, the root of our primitive constitution.—principles, their history and application to modern times.—changes effected in.—law, principles of the.
Fisheries of New England; on the hardy spirit with which they are conducted.
Flattery, the reverse of instruction.
Fox, Right Hon. Charles, eulogy on.—Burke's confidence in.
France, on the dangers arising from.—her revolution of 1789.—frightful scenes of the.—founded on regicide, Jacobinism, and atheism.—war with, vindicated.—reflections on her revolution.—the existing state of things in, productive of the worst evils.—on the political and intellectual greatness of.—the great political changes of.—revolution of, a complete one.—early conquests and dominion of.—declaration of England against, in 1793.—false policy in our war with.—historical strictures on.—atrocities perpetrated in.
Freedom, a blessing and not an abstract speculation.—character of just freedom.—on the conservative progress of.
French, natural self-destruction of the.
Gaul, the ancient inhabitants of.
Gentleman, our civilization dependent on the spirit of a.
Glory, difficulty the path to.
God, contemplations of His attributes;—on the adorable wisdom of.
Government, on the evils of weakness in.—on the influence of place in.—on the advantages of candid policy in.—virtue and wisdom qualify for.—not made in virtue of natural rights.—not to be rashly censured.—on the duties of.—principles of, not absolute but relative.—general views of the foundations of.—and legislation, matters of reason and judgment.—favouritism, the cause of popular ferment.
Gracefulness, on our ideas of.
Grant, on Burke's acceptance of a.
Great men, the guide-posts and landmarks of the State.
Green Cloth, origin of the ancient Court of.
Grenville, Right Hon. Mr., his great political qualities and character.
Grievance and opinion, on the different qualities of.
Grievances by law, on the different views of.
Henry IV. of France, sovereign qualities of.
Heroism, moral, on the virtues of.
"His Grace," Burke's reply to.
History, on the moral of.—on the use of defects in.—on the perversion of.—speculations on.—strictures on, as connected with France.
House of Commons, its nature and functions.—on the control of the constituency over.—Mr. Burke's preparation for the.—its constitution.—privilege of the.—contrasted with the National Assembly of France.
Howard, the philanthropist, his genius and humanity.
Human ideas, on the influence of divine power on.
Human nature, on the libellers of.
Humiliation, on the diplomacy of.
Hyder Ali, on his formidable military operations in the Carnatic.
Ideal, definition of the.
Imagination, unity of.
Imitation an instructive law.
Impartiality, appeal to.
Imperial power, its establishment in Western Europe.
Impracticable, the, not to be desired.
India, East, on the territorial extent of British dominion in.—on its opulence and importance.—necessity of reforming the government of.—Hyder Ali's formidable military resistance.—on the British government in.
Individual good and public benefit, a comparison of.
Induction, on the process of.
Infidels, on the policy of.
Infinity, little understood.
Injustice, economy of.
Innovation, on the madness of.
Investigation, the best method of teaching.
Ireland, on the legislation of.
Ireland and Magna Charta, historical notices of.
Jacobin peace, on the perils of.
Jacobin war, on the true nature of a.
Jacobinism, atrocious principles of.—ferocity of.
Jealousy, political, different under different circumstances.
John, King, on his difficulties with the pope.
Jurisprudence, on the science of.
Justice, early reform in the administration of.
Keppel, Lord, one of the greatest and best men of his age.—his exalted virtues.
Kings, the power of, not based on popular choice.
Labour, on the necessity of.—on the importance of.—rises or falls according to the demand.
Labouring classes poor, because they are numerous.—on the moral happiness of the.
"Labouring poor," on the puling jargon respecting the.—on the canting phraseology of.—on the melioration of their condition.
Language, on the moral effects of.
Laws, when bad, are productive of base subserviency.
Legislation, on the due balance of, with the administration.—on the problem of.
Legislation and government, matters of reason and judgment.
Legislative capacity, on the limits of.
Legislators of the ancient republics.
Legislature of France, regicidal character of the.
Levellers, moral, the representatives of a servile principle.
Libellers of human nature, falsity of the term.
Liberty, its preservation the duty of a member of the House of Commons.—in what it consists;—character of just liberty.—on the abstract theory of.—on fictitious liberty.
"Lights," modern, on the petulance and ignorance of.
Loans, public, on the policy of.
Louis XVI., on his cruel treatment.—historical estimate of.—his mistaken views of society.—on the fate of.
Love, a mixed passion.
Love and dread, their union in religion.
Low aims and low instruments, the baseness of.
Magistracy, religious duties of the.
Magna Charta, Ireland a partaker of.—the oldest reformation of England.—on the early constitutions of.
Magnanimity, on its superiority.
Malesherbes, atrocious treatment of.
Man, Nature anticipates the desires of.
Mankind, ancient state of.
Manners and morals, correspondent systems of.—more important than laws.
Maria Antoinette, her beauty and misfortunes.—sanguinary treatment of.
Maria Theresa, her high-minded principles.
Marriage, feudal restraints on.
Maxims, false, evils of, when assumed as first principles.
Measures of government, on judging of the.
Member of Parliament, difficulties of becoming a good one.
Metaphysical depravity, on the dangers of.
Migrations of ancient history.
Minister of state, what he ought to attempt.
Ministers, on the responsibility of.
Missionaries, their early zeal in propagating Christianity.
Monarch of England, on the sovereign power of the.
Monastic institutions, on the results of.
Money and science.
Monks, their early zeal in the cause of Christianity.
Montesquieu, on the genius of.
Moral debasement, a progressive principle.
Moral diet, on the use of.
Moral distinctions defined.
Moral effects resulting from language.
Moral essence constitutes a nation.
Moral heroism, on the virtues of.
Moral instincts, on the sacredness of.
Moral levelling, a servile principle.
Nation, moral essence constitutes a.
National Assembly of France, the House of Commons contrasted with.
National Assembly, on its philosophic vanity.
National dignity, importance of, in all treaties.
Nature, Sir I. Newton's discoveries of the phenomena of.—anticipates the desires of man.
Necessity, a relative term.
Neighbourhood, on the law of.
Neutrality, on the uncertainty and contemptibility of.
New England, fisheries of, on the hardy spirit of the.
Newton, Sir Isaac, his discoveries of the phenomena of nature.
Nobility a graceful ornament to the civil order.
Norman invasion, state of Europe and of England at the time of the.
"Not so bad as we seem," justificatory remarks on.
Novelty, its effects on the mind.
Obscure, powerful influence of the.
Obscurity, courted by despotism and all false religions.
Office, on the emoluments of.
Officers, English, on the admirable qualifications of.
Opinion, on acting from, against the government.
Opinions, power survives the shock of.
Oppression, on the voice of.
Order, the foundation of all things.
Outcasts, political, on the usual treatment of.
Painting, influence of.
Paper currency, confiscation arising from.
Parental experience, reflections on.
Paris, on the boasted superiority of.
Parliament, difficulties of becoming a good member of.—Mr. Burke's preparation for.—a deliberative assembly.—on its identity with the people.—on the privilege of.—property more than ability represented in. —on the "omnipotence" of.
Parliamentary prerogative, on the principles of.
Parliamentary retrospect.
Parliaments, on the proper period of their duration.—on the abolition and use of.
Parsimony is not economy.
Party, on decorum in.—character and objects of.—political connections of.
Party divisions, inseparable from a free government.
Party man, character of a, vindicated.
Patriotic distinction.
Patriotic services, on the justice of public salary for.
Patriotism, the true source of public income.—on the true characteristics of.—local, on the extinction of.
Peace, political, on the difficulties of.
Peers, privileges of the.
Pensions from the crown the obligations of gratitude, and not the fetters of servility.
People, on their disputes with their rulers.—voice of the, to be consulted.—necessity of securing their confidence.—on their identity with parliament.—kingly power not based on their choice.—on the true meaning of the term.—war, and will of the.—the constitution not the slave of the.
Perplexity, on the political state of.
Persecution, theory of, its falsity.
Petty interests, against being influenced by.
Philosophic vanity of the French National Assembly.
Physiognomy, on the influence of.
Pictures represented by words.
Pilgrimages advantageous to the cause of literature.
Pius VII., territories of, assailed by France.
Place the object of party.—on the influence of, in government.
Poetry, its dominion over the passions.
Policy, genuine sentiment not discordant with.—national.
Polish revolution, reflections on the.
Political axioms.
Political charity, characteristics of.
Political connections, on the nature of.
Political empiricism, its character.
Political outcasts, on the usual treatment of.
Politicians, theorizing, on the follies of.
Politics, without principle.—remarks on.—on the state of feeling with regard to.—in connection with the pulpit.
Poor, on the folly of their overthrowing the rich.
Pope, his exactions from King John.
Popular discontent, on the general prevalence of, in all times.
Popular opinion, on the fallacy of, as a standard.
Power, on the tendencies of.—survives the shock of opinions.
Practice more certain than theory.
Prerogative of the crown.—parliamentary and regal.
Prescriptive rights, on the justice and necessity of.
Prevention, principle of, necessary for every political institution.
Price, Dr., on his preaching the democracy of Dissent.
"Priests of the Rights of Man."
Principle, on the absence of, in politics.
Privilege of Parliament.
Proscription, the miserable invention of ungenerous ambition.
Prosecutions, public, little better than schools of treason.
Protestantism of America.—English, on the distinctive character of.
Provisions, danger of tampering with the trade of.—rate of wages no direct relation to.
Prudence of timely reform.—rules and definitions of.
Public benefit, as compared with individual good.
Public corruption, evil consequences of.
Public income, patriotism the true source of.
Public men, on the libellers of.
Public spirit united with economy, advantages of.—a part of our national character.
Pulpit, politics in the.
Real and ideal, definition of the.
Reason and taste, on the standard of.
Reform, timely, on the prudence of.—false, on the prudery of.
Reformation, English, a time of trouble and confusion.—contrasted and compared with anarchy.
Reformations in England, principles of the.
Reformers, on the difficulties of.
Refusal, productive of a revenue.
Regal prerogative, on the principles of.
Regicidal legislature of France.
Regicide, atrocious principles of.—the sanguinary ante-chamber of.
Reliefs, on the ancient customs of.
Religion, on the union of love and dread in.—our civilization dependent on the spirit of.—within the province of a Christian magistrate.—false, courts obscurity.—negative, a nullity.
Remedy, on the distemper of.
Representatives, on the conduct and duty of.
Republicanism, on the jargon of.
Republicans, on the legislation of.
Republics, on the character of, in the abstract.
Resignation of the mind.
Restrictive virtues too high for humanity.
Retrospect of the memory.—parliamentary.
Revenue, refusal productive of a.—the state its own.—necessity of its payment.—on the best mode of raising the.
Revolution of France, horrors of the.—Burke's idea of.—its frightful scenes.—founded on regicide, Jacobinism, and atheism.—reflections on.—causes of the.—evils of.—on the politics of the.—specious justification of.
Revolution, the Glorious, of England in 1688.—its objects.—principles of the.
Revolution Society, dangerous objects of the.
Revolutions of France and England compared.
"Right, Declaration of," its objects.
"Right, Petition of," on the famous law of.
Rights, natural and civil.—prescriptive, on the justice and necessity of.
Robespierre, on the instruments of his tyranny.
Rockingham, Lord, vindication of his measures.
Rome, the great centre of early Christianity in the western world.—assailed by France.
Rousseau, philosophic vanity of.—paradoxical writings of.
Rulers, on the disputes of the people with.
Salaries, public, on the justice of, for particular service.
Santerre, the regicide atrocity of.
Saracens, irruptions of the.
Saville, Sir George, his intellectual and moral character.
Saxon conquests, state of Britain at the time of.—religious conversion of the Saxons.
Self-inspection tends to concentrate the forces of the soul.
Sentiment, genuine, not discordant with sound policy.
Silence, prudential advantages of.
Simon, the son of Onias, scriptural panegyric on.
Smith, Sir Sidney, on his treatment as a French prisoner.
Social contract, definition of the.
Society and solitude, on the balance between.
Solitude a positive pain.
Sound of words, its effect.
Sovereign jurisdictions, on the advantage of.
Speciousness, ideas of.
Speculation and history, general disquisition on.
State, the, on the union of the Church with.—consecrated by the Church.—the revenue of, its own.
State-consecration, on the principles of.
Style, on clearness and strength in.
Sublime, sources of, and what constitutes the.
Subserviency, base, bad laws productive of.
Subsistence, means of, should be certain.
Superstition, monastic and philosophic.
Sympathy, on the bond of.—extensions of.—its influences.
Tallien, the regicide atrocity of.
Taste, philosophy of.—principles of.—standard of.
Taxation, on the principle involved in.—on the right of.
Test Acts, Burke's proposed oath on the.
Theodorus, archbishop of Canterbury, the great promoter of English literature.
Theory, liability to error in. —on the proper use of.
Toleration, on the intolerancy of.
Townshend, Right Hon. Charles, his character and great acquirements.
Truth, on the security of.
Ugliness, on the nature of.
Vanity, philosophic, ethics of.
Venality, dangers of.
Virtues, the restrictive, almost too high for humanity.
Visionary, character of the.
Voice of the people to be consulted.
Vulgar, conceptions of the.
Wages, on their connection with labour.
Walpole, Sir Robert, on the policy of.
War, on the tremendous consequences of.
War and will of the people.
Warning for a nation, founded on the state of public affairs.
Weakness in government, on the evils of.
Wealth, on the relation of, to national dignity.
Wilkes, John, on his right of election to Parliament.
William the Conqueror, on the sovereign qualities of;—his policy.
William III., on his succession to the English crown.—his vigorous policy against France.
Words, their power and influence.—effect of.—various qualities of.