by Edmund Burke
Whilst I look over this paper to have it copied, I see a manifesto of the Assembly, as a preliminary to a declaration of war against the German princes on the Rhine. This manifesto contains the whole substance of the French politics with regard to foreign states. They have ordered it to be circulated amongst the people in every country of Europe, — even previously to its acceptance by the king, and his new privy council, the club of the Feuillants. Therefore, as a summary of their policy avowed by themselves, let us consider some of the circumstances attending that piece, as well as the spirit and temper of the piece itself.
Declaration against the Emperor.It was preceded by a speech from Brissot, full of unexampled insolence towards all the sovereign states of Germany, if not of Europe. The Assembly, to express their satisfaction in the sentiments which it contained, ordered it to be printed. This Brissot had been in the lowest and basest employ under the deposed monarchy, — a sort of thief-taker, or spy of police, — in which character he acted after the manner of persons in that description. He had been employed by his master, the Lieutenant de Police, for a considerable time in London, in the same or some such honorable occupation. The Revolution, which has brought forward all merit of that kind, raised him, with others of a similar class and disposition, to fame and eminence. On the Revolution he became a publisher of an infamous newspaper, which he still continues. He is charged, and I believe justly, as the first mover of the troubles in Hispaniola. There is no wickedness, if I am rightly informed, in which he is not versed, and of which he is not perfectly capable. His quality of news-writer, now an employment of the first dignity in France, and his practices and principles, procured his election into the Assembly, where he is one of the leading members. M. Condorcet produced on the same day a draught of a declaration to the king, which the Assembly published before it was presented.
Condorcet (though no marquis, as he styled himself before the Revolution) is a man of another sort of birth, fashion, and occupation from Brissot, — but in every principle, and every disposition to the lowest as well as the highest and most determined villanies, fully his equal. He seconds Brissot in the Assembly, and is at once his coadjutor and his rival in a newspaper, which, in his own name, and as successor to M. Garat, a member also of the Assembly, he has just set up in that empire of gazettes. Condorcet was chosen to draw the first declaration presented by the Assembly to the king, as a threat to the Elector of Treves, and the other princes on the Rhine. In that piece, in which both Feuillants and Jacobins concurred, they declared publicly, and most proudly and insolently, the principle on which they mean to proceed in their future disputes with any of the sovereigns of Europe; for they say, “that it is not with fire and sword they mean to attack their territories, but by what will be more dreadful to them, the introduction of liberty.” — I have not the paper by me, to give the exact words, but I believe they are nearly as I state them. — Dreadful, indeed, will be their hostility, if they should be able to carry it on according to the example of their modes of introducing liberty. They have shown a perfect model of their whole design, very complete, though in little. This gang of murderers and savages have wholly laid waste and utterly ruined the beautiful and happy country of the Comtat Venaissin and the city of Avignon. This cruel and treacherous outrage the sovereigns of Europe, in my opinion, with a great mistake of their honor and interest, have permitted, even without a remonstrance, to be carried to the desired point, on the principles on which they are now themselves threatened in their own states; and this, because, according to the poor and narrow spirit now in fashion, their brother sovereign, whose subjects have been thus traitorously and inhumanly treated in violation of the law of Nature and of nations, has a name somewhat different from theirs, and, instead of being styled King, or Duke, or Landgrave, is usually called Pope.
State of the Empire.The Electors of Treves and Mentz were frightened with the menace of a similar mode of war. The Assembly, however, not thinking that the Electors of Treves and Mentz had done enough under their first terror, have again brought forward Condorcet, preceded by Brissot, as I have just stated. The declaration, which they have ordered now to be circulated in all countries, is in substance the same as the first, but still more insolent, because more full of detail. There they have the impudence to state that they aim at no conquest: insinuating that all the old, lawful powers of the world had each made a constant, open profession of a design of subduing his neighbors. They add, that, if they are provoked, their war will be directed only against those who assume to be masters; but to the people they will bring peace, law, liberty, &c., &c. There is not the least hint that they consider those whom they call persons “assuming to be matters” to be the lawful government of their country, or persons to be treated with the least management or respect. They regard them as usurpers and enslavers of the people. If I do not mistake, they are described by the name of tyrants in Condorcet’s first draught. I am sure they are so in Brissot’s speech, ordered by the Assembly to be printed at the same time and for the same purposes. The whole is in the same strain, full of false philosophy and false rhetoric, — both, however, calculated to captivate and influence the vulgar mind, and to excite sedition in the countries in which it is ordered to be circulated. Indeed, it is such, that, if any of the lawful, acknowledged sovereigns of Europe had publicly ordered such a manifesto to be circulated in the dominions of another, the ambassador of that power would instantly be ordered to quit every court without an audience.
Effect of fear on the sovereign powers.The powers of Europe have a pretext for concealing their fears, by saying that this language is not used by the king; though they well know that there is in effect no such person, — that the Assembly is in reality, and by that king is acknowledged to be, the master, — that what he does is but matter of formality, — and that he can neither cause nor hinder, accelerate nor retard, any measure whatsoever, nor add to nor soften the manifesto which the Assembly has directed to be published, with the declared purpose of exciting mutiny and rebellion in the several countries governed by these powers. By the generality also of the menaces contained in this paper, (though infinitely aggravating the outrage,) they hope to remove from each power separately the idea of a distinct affront. The persons first pointed at by the menace are certainly the princes of Germany, who harbor the persecuted House of Bourbon and the nobility of France; the declaration, however, is general, and goes to every state with which they may have a cause of quarrel. But the terror of France has fallen upon all nations. A few months since all sovereigns seemed disposed to unite against her; at present they all seem to combine in her favor. At no period has the power of France ever appeared with so formidable an aspect. In particular the liberties of the Empire can have nothing more than an existence the most tottering and precarious, whilst France exists with a great power of fomenting rebellion, and the greatest in the weakest, — but with neither power nor disposition to support the smaller states in their independence against the attempts of the more powerful.
I wind up all in a full conviction within my own breast, and the substance of which I must repeat over and over again, that the state of France is the first consideration in the politics of Europe, and of each state, externally as well as internally considered.
Most of the topics I have used are drawn from fear and apprehension. Topics derived from fear or addressed to it are, I well know, of doubtful appearance. To be sure, hope is in general the incitement to action. Alarm some men, — you do not drive them to provide for their security; you put them to a stand; you induce them, not to take measures to prevent the approach of danger, but to remove so unpleasant an idea from their minds; you persuade them to remain as they are, from a new fear that their activity may bring on the apprehended mischief before its time. I confess freely that this evil sometimes happens from an overdone precaution; but it is when the measures are rash, ill-chosen, or ill-combined, and the effects rather of blind terror than of enlightened foresight. But the few to whom I wish to submit
my thoughts are of a character which will enable them to see danger without astonishment, and to provide against it without perplexity.
To what lengths this method of circulating mutinous manifestoes, and of keeping emissaries of sedition in every court under the name of ambassadors, to propagate the same principles and to follow the practices, will go, and how soon they will operate, it is hard to say; but go on it will, more or less rapidly, according to events, and to the humor of the time. The princes menaced with the revolt of their subjects, at the same time that they have obsequiously obeyed the sovereign mandate of the new Roman senate, have received with distinction, in a public character, ambassadors from those who in the same act had circulated the manifesto of sedition in their dominions. This was the only thing wanting to the degradation and disgrace of the Germanic body.
The ambassadors from the rights of man, and their admission into the diplomatic system, I hold to be a new era in this business. It will be the most important step yet taken to affect the existence of sovereigns, and the higher classes of life: I do not mean to exclude its effects upon all classes; but the first blow is aimed at the more prominent parts in the ancient order of things.
What is to be done?
It would be presumption in me to do more than to make a case. Many things occur. But as they, like all political measures, depend on dispositions, tempers, means, and external circumstances, for all their effect, not being well assured of these, I do not know how to let loose any speculations of mine on the subject. The evil is stated, in my opinion, as it exists. The remedy must be where power, wisdom, and information, I hope, are more united with good intentions than they can be with me. I have done with this subject, I believe, forever. It has given me many anxious moments for the two last years. If a great change is to be made in human affairs, the minds of men will be fitted to it, the general opinions and feelings will draw that way. Every fear, every hope, will forward it; and then they who persist in opposing this mighty current in human affairs will appear rather to resist the decrees of Providence itself than the mere designs of men. They will not be resolute and firm, but perverse and obstinate.
THOUGHTS ON THE PROSPECT OF A REGICIDE PEACE
CONTENTS
THE PUBLISHER’S APPEAL TO THE CANDOUR AND JUSTICE OF THE NATION.
LETTER I. ON THE OVERTURES OF PEACE.
LETTER II. ON THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AS IT REGARDS OTHER NATIONS.
THE PUBLISHER’S APPEAL TO THE CANDOUR AND JUSTICE OF THE NATION.
IT would ill become me to make any remarks on my examination before a committee of the House of Commons, respecting the Author of “Thoughts on the English Government.”
My conduct on that occasion could give no just offence to any party, and was spoken of in very favourable terms by Mr. Windham, Mr. Woodford his secretary, and several of their friends. As a mark of their esteem, they promised me a pamphlet which Mr. Burke was then preparing for the press, and which he soon after put into my hands. On giving me the last sheet, with his final corrections,
“There,” said he, “that is your own
— It is but a trivial thing — I do not know that it will pay you for paper and printing. — I must also do Mr. Burke the justice to acknowledge that he seemed to rejoice at my success; and to shew his desire of farther promoting it, gave me his “Thoughts on a Regicide Peace.”
I felt the full force of the favour, and chearfully took upon me the trouble of dancing backwards and forwards alternately between Author and Printer, three or four times a day for almost three months, to attend to such a variety of alterations as can be conceived only by those who are acquainted with the whims, the caprice and the eternal versatility of genius. After an interval of six months, the publication having been for that time suspended, and just at the moment that I expected to receive some little return for my fatiguing exertions, I was suddenly called upon by the Rev. Dr. King, with a sort of message from Mr. Burke, desiring an account of the former work. I was really shocked at a demand so repugnant to all my ideas of that gentleman’s character. I know he has not so short a memory as to forget the terms on which he made me a present of the manuscript. I had made no provision to settle for the profits of a voluntary gift, nor had I kept any account of them. I must also assert, that in order to shew myself not inferior even to Mr. Burke in generosity, I liberally supplied all his friends with copies of the work gratis, so that I believe, if an exact account had been kept, it would not appear that I lay under any very weighty obligation. Roused, however, by so strange a demand, I called upon Mr. Windham’s secretary to remonstrate on the illiberality, injustice, and unreasonableness of such a claim for what I could not help considering as a present: he replied,
“It is very true: — it was meant so: — but Mr. Burke has thought otherwise since.”
— I then called upon Mr. Nagle, the near relation and confidential friend of Mr. Burke, who had expressed no less surprise on hearing the matter first mentioned by Dr. King, and whose exact words were,
“By heavens! Owen conceived the Pamphlet to be his own; and so did I.”
— If Mr. Burke’s conceptions then should run counter in this instance to the dictates of plain sense, and to the ideas of his own nearest and dearest friends, I hope my character can never be injured by his unaccountable eccenticities. The man, who can write so beautiful a panegyric on royal bounty, would never surely incur the reproach of attempting to retract his own gifts, or even to strip a poor bookseller of the accidental profits of publishing an essay on munificence. He has also, I am persuaded, too much dignity of sentiment to be offended with my bringing forward the present work, on account of its interfering in any sort with his new arguments against a Peace with a Regicide Directory. I am in fact promoting his own wishes to cut off all intercourse with Regicides; and I rely upon his kind and disinterested recommendation of these old Thoughts on the subject, which are now presented to the Public with the venerable marks, and silver honours of age.
October 19, 1796.
LETTER I. ON THE OVERTURES OF PEACE.
MY DEAR SIR,
UNTIL the beginning of this session, notwithstanding many untoward appearances, I still flattered myself that I should have no other than domestick afflictions to cloud the evening of my life: but a state of things is threatened, which, whatever room private griefs may occupy, leaves a vast vacuity to be filled with publick sorrow.
If I estimate rightly, what is going to be suffered, from what is going to be done, it is from something the very reverse of philosophy, that we are to learn content. In the interval between the treaty of peace with Regicide, and it’s inevitable consequences, we must owe our repose not to deep thinking, but to the absence of all thought. To enjoy life, we must forget every thing of what England has been, and of what we have been ourselves. England has been happy; and change is a word of ill sound to happy ears. A great revolution is on the point of being accomplished. It is a revolution not in human affairs, but in man himself. The system of France aims at nothing short of this. If we are tired of being the men we were, and disgusted with the society in which we have lived, France offers her regeneration. By whatever humiliations we buy a blessing, I admit that the nature of the object purchased remains the same. On that supposition, the advances we have made to the Republick of Regicide, are made on a consistent plan. But if what she terms regeneration, is what we call death, then, instead of advancing, we should retreat, and fly from Jacobin remedies as from the most terrible of all diseases.
Observe at the outset, that I suppose a peace with Jacobinism, the submission to it’s laws, and the adoption of it’s whole scheme, to be so necessarily connected, that never, in sound logic, did the conclusion follow the premises with more certainty, than as I conceive it, in the course of Nature, that effect will be the result of this cause.
In one thing we are lucky. The regicide has received our advances with scorn. We have an enemy, to whose virtues we can owe nothing; but on this occasion we
are infinitely obliged to one of his vices. We owe more to his insolence than to our own precaution. The haughtiness by which the proud repel us, has this of good in it, that in making us keep our distance, they must keep their distance too. In the present case, the pride of the Regicide may be our safety. He has given time for our reason to operate; and for British dignity to recover from its surprise.
There is always an augury to be taken of what a peace is likely to be, from the preliminary steps that are made to bring it about. We may gather something from the time in which the first overtures are made; from the quarter whence they come; from the manner in which they are received. These discover the temper of the parties. If your enemy offers peace in the moment of success, it indicates that he is satisfied with something. It shews that there are limits to his ambition or his resentment. If he offers nothing under misfortune, it is probable, that it is more painful to him to abandon advantage than to endure calamity. If he rejects solicitation, and will not give even a nod to the suppliants for peace, until a change in the fortune of the war threatens him with ruin, then I think it evident, that he wishes nothing more than to disarm his adversary and to gain time. Afterwards a question arises, which of the parties is likely to obtain the greater advantages, by the use of time and by continuing disarmed?
