or its refinement; but to the progress of society, which placed the whole states of Europe in the same relative situation in which the states of Italy were at that period, and taught them not to wait for an actual invasion, but to see a Charles at all times in every prince or commonwealth that should manifest the least desire of change.

The circumstances of the European states, by promoting national intercourse, have been singularly favourable to the development of those principles of easy and constant union. Consolidated into one system of provincial government under the empire of Rome, they were separated by the same causes, and nearly at the same time. Reduced by a people whose character and manners were never effaced by the most rapid conquests, or most remote emigrations, they were formed into divisions, under constitutions of the same nature, peculiarly calculated to preserve the uniformity of customs which originally marked the whole. The progress of political government has been similar in all, from the dominion of the nobles to the tyranny of the prince; and, in these latter times, to the freedom of the people. That spirit of commercial intercourse, which produces a perpetual connexion, little known in the ancient world, has conspired, with the similarity of situation and the resemblance of manners, to render Europe a united whole within itself, almost separated from the rest of the world; a great federacy, acknowledging indeed no common chief, but united by certain common principles, and obeying one system of international law.

It is from these natural sources, through this gradual progress, and not suddenly from any accidental occurrences in the fifteenth century, or from the cabinets of particular statesman, that we must deduce the refined system of interference which has regulated, for so long a time, the councils of Europe in foreign affairs; and we are to consider the union of the Italian states against the invasion of Charles merely as a symptom of the same progressive improvement which has since taken place in the other parts of Europe.

The question, of the propriety of a nation interfering with those concerns of its neighbours which have only a remote connexion with its own interests, may be stated in two different forms; either as a general question applicable to any state, or in its particular reference to the situation of a nation placed in certain circumstances. Thus, many politicians, who have no hesitation in recommending the balancing system to such powers as Austria and Prussia, placed in the heart of Europe, and surrounded by many other states of various complexions and magnitudes, are yet of opinion that the situation of Britain is very different; that she is, by nature, insulated from the rest of Europe; that she can defend herself against any invasion, by means of her natural barrier and internal resources; and that she ought not to sacrifice the improvement of those resources, and the means of maintaining peace, to the vain wish of holding the European balance, and embroiling herself in the stormy politics of foreign states. To enter fully into the discussion of this great national question, would carry us much beyond our necessary limits; but we cannot avoid remarking, that, so long as Great Britain is engaged in a commercial intercourse with other nations; so long as her insular situation only serves to promote and extend those commercial relations; so long as other states possess a large portion of sea-coast, engage in a wide commercial circle, and are acquiring a navy of formidable power; so long as Britain interferes with them in other quarters of the globe, where her dominions are the most valuable and extensive,—it is an abuse of lan

guage to talk of her being separated from the continent of Europe by the straits of Dover. The transport of an army by sea is often more easy than the march over a considerable tract of land. The fate of a naval engagement is generally more quick, decisive, and dependent upon fortune, than the siege of barrier towns, or the forcing of mountainous passes; and the elements may, by retaining the British fleets in Plymouth or Portsmouth, while they waft the enemy's squadrons from Brest or the Texel, destroy in a moment that bulwark to which we vainly intrusted the national defence, and render utterly useless the whole natural force of the country, which, after a change of weather, may display, triumphantly, its flags over every sea in Europe, while the Consular legions are revelling in the plunder of the Bank, or burning all the dock-yards in the kingdom. To say that England may trust to her fleets, then, is to recommend a full reliance upon the chance of a single battle, or the event of a sea-chase; to inculcate a silly confidence in good fortune, and to advise that the fate of Great Britain should be committed to the changes of the elements, the shifting of a wind, or the settling of a fog. It is to her armies that every nation, insular or continental, must look for her sure and natural defence. But although it would be absurd to recommend that the internal resources of a country should be neglected, either in order to favour its naval force, or in order to commit its defence to the movements of intrigue, and the efforts of foreign policy; yet he would be an equally dangerous counsellor who should advise us to neglect those means of preventing war, and of rendering it harmless when it does occur, which are only to be found in a compliance with the principles of the balancing system.

When the different nations of Europe placed their whole glory in the splendour of their warlike renown, and attended only to the improvement of their military resources, every person of free rank was a soldier, and devoted his life to the profession of arms. But as soon as the arts of peace acquired an ascendancy, and other fame besides that of martial deeds was sought after, war became an object of dread, as deranging the main operations of society, and exposing the national independence to unforeseen casualties and dangers. Instead of being followed for its own sake, it was now only resorted to as a necessary evil, to avoid a greater risk. The first great consequence of this change in the occupations and character of men, was the separation of the military from the civil professions; the intrusting a small class in each community with the defence of the rest; the adoption of standing armies, by far the most important improvement in the art of government with which history has made us acquainted. As this great change has disarmed war of almost all its dangers, so another change, equally important, has arisen out of it-rendered wars much less frequent, and confined their influence to a small portion in the centre of the Continent. The European powers have formed a species of general law, which supersedes, in most instances, an appeal to the sword, by rendering such an appeal fatal to any power that may infringe upon the code; by uniting the forces of the rest inevitably against each delinquent; by agreeing, that any project of violating a neighbour's integrity shall be prevented or avenged, not according to the resources of this neighbour, but according to the full resources of every other member of the European community; and by constantly watching over the state of public affairs, even in profound peace. Such, at least, would be the balancing system, carried to its full extent; and such is the state of refinement towards which it is constantly tending. The

division of labour, too, and the separation of the military profession, has been carried, by some of the richer nations, to a still greater extent than the mere embodying of standing armies. Those states, which are the most injured by the operations of war, are also the richest in superfluous stock. They have contrived a species of pecuniary commutation of war, similar to the commutation of military service, which paved the way for the introduction of standing armies: they have managed to turn off the battle from their gates, by paying less wealthy allies for fighting in their cause at a safe distance. The operations of war are in this manner rendered very harmless, and a foundation is laid for their gradual disuse. A few useless millions,

and a few still more useless lives, are sacrificed; the arts of peace continue to flourish, sometimes with increased prosperity; and the policy of preferring to purchase defeat at a distance, rather than victory at home-of paying allies for being vanquished, rather than gain the most splendid triumphs on their own ground-has been amply rewarded by the safety, increased resources, and real addition of power, which result from an enjoyment of all the substantial blessings of peace, with the only real advantages of necessary warfare.

Such are the general outlines of the modern system, founded upon the preservation of a balance of power. The science which professes to discuss the general principles of this system, and their particular application in detail to the actual situation of the European powers, is, of consequence, next to jurisprudence and police, the most important that can occupy the attention of the statesman. It has, however, been alleged that this is an enquiry reducible to no general or fixed principles; that it does not deserve the name of science; that it depends on the caprices of a few individuals, and the variations in their views or measures occasioned by accidental occurrences. Mr. Hume, in particular, at the very time when he recommends the drawing of our conclusions on subjects of domestic policy as fine as it is possible, adds, "that, in these affairs, the inferences rest on the concurrence of a multitude of causes-not, as in foreign politics, upon accidents, and chances, and the caprices of a few persons." It may, however, be observed, that the very same general arguments, so irresistibly stated by that acute and profound writer, to prove that politics may be reduced to a science, † apply as well to the foreign as to the domestic policy of a state. A few more particular remarks on this point may serve to set it in a light sufficiently striking.

1. All the governments of Europe have tended uniformly, and not very slowly, towards greater freedom and mildness, since the rise of the commercial policy of modern times, and the general diffusion of knowledge by the art of printing. Instead of a collection of despots, actuated in all their plans of internal and external arrangement by caprice or accident, the system of European princes is now an assemblage of deputies from the different nations, which have intrusted them with certain powers and commissions for the public good. In the execution of their trust, indeed, they are not directly accountable to any human authority; but, even in the states where no constitutional control is appointed to the power of the crown, the indirect influence of a numerous and enlightened people is uniformly strong upon the councils of the monarch. It is always his interest to rule by gentle and agreeable means, and to further, by every measure in his power, the pros

perity of his state. This interest, though for a while it may be concealed from his eyes, or overruled by opposite passions, can never be long hidden from him; but must always, in the long run, force itself upon his attention, and be, for the most part, the guide of his conduct. The government of the most despotic princes offers constant examples of a submission to that opinion, which can scarcely there make itself heard; and not a few instances of obedience to the voice, which, from its resistless power over divans themselves, has been emphatically called the voice of God. A check is thus provided for the violence of royal passions, and a guide or regulator for the movements of even a despot's caprice. In the free governments of modern Europe, however, the influence of public opinion is direct; the voice of the nation is acknowledged; and the will of the people is in general obeyed,— the only doubt being as to the particular line of conduct which that voice and will direct.

2. As almost all princes rule by the advice of ministers, and must execute their decrees by the assistance of a great number of deputies; the connexion of those men with the people at large-their responsibility to their country -the odium and personal danger which attach to a failure of any plan executed by their intervention, whether suggested by their councils or not -must quicken their perception of every national danger, and embolden them to withstand, in the cabinet, any pernicious measure dictated by the ignorance or caprice of their master. Where so many must thus, in some degree, concur in every act of the sovereign power, and so many are responsible, in the eyes of the country, for every abuse in the government, it is manifest that the chances of wilful misrule, through the unprincipled caprice, or rashness, or levity, or passions of a single monarch, are considerably diminished; and that the true interests of the country, in its relations to foreign states, can only be lost sight of or thwarted during casual intervals, when the ministers are utterly careless of popular opinion in comparison of their master's will, and the tyrant is so short-sighted, and so corrupted by his unfortunate situation, as to despise his best interests, and disregard his chief danger. The actual responsibility of every minister to the country, even in governments the most unprincipled and despotic, and the submission of the sovereign to the will of the people, however debased, is proved by so many striking facts of common notoriety, that it is scarcely necessary to state them in illustration of the foregoing remarks. "The Soldan of Egypt," says Mr. Hume,*" or the Emperor of Rome, might drive his harmless subjects, like brute beasts, against their sentiments and inclinations; but he must at least have led his Mamelukes or prætorian bands, like men, by their opinion." There is evidently somewhat of inconsistency between the two parts of this proposition; for, unless those Mamelukes and prætorian guards were so numerous as to command the whole state, and so separated from the rest of the commonwealth as to participate in no degree in their feelings, and to be altogether unconnected with their wrongs, it is clear that in the long run they must have been influenced by the national opinion. At any rate, although, in the domestic concerns of Egypt or Rome, the interests of the two orders might be frequently opposed to each other, and those of the people be neglected, there can be no doubt that, in the external relations of the state, the two classes formed but one body, and the best interests of the whole were the same. The caprice of the soldan, or emperor, then, could

* Essay IV. on the Principles of Government.

never, for any length of time, stifle or disobey the voice of those bands whom he had to guide by their good-will, and rule by their opinion; that is, by partly yielding to, and partly directing, their wishes.

In the most despotic governments of the East, the fury of a mob frequently obtains a change of ministers, which is always a change of measures. The vizier who commands a vanquished army, who advises an unprosperous war, or concludes a disadvantageous peace, is generally bowstringed at the first murmurs of the mob, and his body thrown to appease them. This is a sacrifice made by the most absolute of monarchs to the will of the most enslaved people in the world. The power of the Grand Signior, which lays every Mussulman prostrate at his feet, does not extend to the enacting of any law which might add to the taxes of the empire. He may crush the proudest of his bashaws, and squeeze from the richest of his officers every particle of their accumulated wealth: he may bowstring thousands, whom ancient opinion and religious prejudice has taught to believe that their lives were made for his sport: but he dares not issue any regular ordinance for a single general impost; or the same people, who, in the strange contradictions of this unnatural state of society, had kissed the axe that was lifted against their lives, would now raise their united voice with a force powerful to shake the innermost recesses of the seraglio.

When Peter the Great of Russia wished to invert the order of succession to the Imperial throne, from an unnatural antipathy to the Tzarowitch, whose rights had formerly been in some degree acknowledged, he did not think it sufficient to issue an express edict, declaring the power of the Emperor to fix upon any successor that he chose. He began, by accustoming the minds of men to such an unsettled and arbitrary mode of inheritance in cases of private property. He published a previous ordinance, obliging each father to bequeath his whole real property to one of his children, leaving him the choice of his heir. This singular barbarian, notwithstanding the many vices that stained his character, and the constant cruelties in which his reign was spent, had the merit of beginning the civilisation of his boundless empire. He wished to raise his savage and enslaved people to the rank of men; and the ordinance which we have mentioned, is an instance of submission to their will, from a real or supposed necessity, and from a wish to bring about a change in their opinions. The succeeding Tzars have adopted a regular mode of receiving the opinions of the most respectable and enlightened part of their subjects, and of imposing a check on their own authority. Upon a new and general law being drawn up, the ukase containing it is transmitted to each of the governments; and the viceroys may assemble the different courts to consider it. If they unanimously disapprove, they may present a representation against it to the Senate. The law is reconsidered, and is not obligatory on the realm, until another ordinance has been issued, confirming the former. The silly passion for legislation which distinguished the Emperor Joseph II., produced many laws disagreeable to the people: and although the whole tenor of that weak monarch's reign demonstrates how little he was disposed to recognise the rights of his subjects, yet those obnoxious regulations were generally abrogated almost as soon as passed. While he was dragooning the provinces of the Netherlands into a surrender of their most sacred privileges, and purposely acting in direct opposition to the wishes of his constituents in the Imperial diet, he, could not obtain the acquies

*Tooke's Russian Empire, vol. ii. p. 395.