Chapter XIII: Preface (12)
If the little mirth I have shown, in the drawing of these two images from low life, misbecomes me, I am sorry for it, but I promise not to be guilty of that fault any more, and will now, without loss of time, proceed with my argument in artless dull simplicity, and demonstrate the gross error of those, who imagine that the social virtues, and the amiable qualities that are praise-worthy in us, are equally beneficial to the public as they are to the individual persons that are possessed of them, and that the means of thriving, and whatever conduces to the welfare and real happiness of private families, must have the same effect upon the whole society. This, I confess, I have laboured for all along, and I flatter myself not unsuccessfully: But I hope nobody will like a problem the worse for seeing the truth of it proved more ways than one.
It is certain, that the fewer desires a man has, and the less he covets, the more easy he is to himself; the more active he is to supply his own wants, and the less he requires to be waited upon, the more he will be beloved, and the less trouble he is in a family; the more he loves peace and concord, the more charity he has for his neighbour, and the more he shines in real virtue, there is no doubt but that in proportion he is acceptable to God and man. But let us be just, what benefit can these things be of, or what earthly good can they do, to promote the wealth, the glory, and worldly greatness of nations? It is the sensual courtier that sets no limits to his luxury; the fickle strumpet that invents new fashions every week; the haughty duchess that in equipage, entertainments, and all her behaviour, would imitate a princess; the profuse rake and lavish heir, that scatter about their money without wit or judgment, buy every thing they see, and either destroy or give it away the next day; the covetous and perjured villain that squeezed an immense treasure from the tears of widows and orphans, and left the prodigals the money to spend: It is these that are the prey and proper food of a full grown Leviathan; or, in other words, such is the calamitous condition of human affairs, that we stand in need of the plagues and monsters I named, to have all the variety of labour performed, which the skill of men is capable of inventing in order to procure an honest livelihood to the vast multitudes of working poor, that are required to make a large society: And it is folly to imagine, that great and wealthy nations can subsist, and be at once powerful and polite without.
I protest against Popery as much as ever Luther and Calvin did, or Queen Elizabeth herself; but I believe from my heart, that the Reformation has scarce been more instrumental in rendering the kingdoms and states that have embraced it, flourishing beyond other nations, than the silly and capricious invention of hooped and quilted petticoats. But if this should be denied me by the enemies of priestly power, at least I am sure that, bar the great men who have fought for and against that layman's blessing, it has, from its beginning to this day, not employed so many hands, honest, industrious, labouring hands, as the abominable improvement on female luxury, I named, has done in few years. Religion is one thing, and trade is another. He that gives most trouble to thousands of his neighbours, and invents the most operose manufactures, is, right or wrong, the greatest friend to the society.
What a bustle is there to be made in several parts of the world, before a fine scarlet or crimson cloth can be produced; what multiplicity of trades and artificers must be employed! Not only such as are obvious, as woolcombers, spinners, the weaver, the cloth worker, the scourer, the dyer, the setter, the drawer, and the packer; but others that are more remote, and might seem foreign to it; as the mill-wright, the pewterer, and the chemist, which yet are all necessary, as well as a great number of other handicrafts, to have the tools, utensils, and other implements belonging to the trades already named: But all these things are done at home, and may be performed without extraordinary fatigue or danger; the most frightful prospect is left behind, when we reflect on the toil and hazard that are to be undergone abroad, the vast seas we are to go over, the different climates we are to endure, and the several nations we must be obliged to for their assistance. Spain alone, it is true, might furnish us with wool to make the finest cloth; but what skill and pains, what experience and ingenuity, are required to dye it of those beautiful colours! How widely are the drugs, and other ingredients, dispersed through the universe that are to meet in one kettle! Allum, indeed, we have of our own; argol we might have from the Rhine, and vitriol from Hungary; all this is in Europe; but then for saltpetre in quantity, we are forced to go as far as the East Indies. Cocheneal, unknown to the ancients, is not much nearer to us, though in a quite different part of the earth: we buy it, it is true, from the Spaniards; but not being their product, they are forced to fetch it for us from the remotest corner of the new world in the East Indies. While so many sailors are broiling in the sun, and sweltered with heat in the east and west of us, another set of them are freezing in the north, to fetch potashes from Russia.
When we are thoroughly acquainted with all the variety of toil and labour, the hardships and calamities that must be undergone to compass the end I speak of, and we consider the vast risks and perils that are run in those voyages, and that few of them are ever made but at the expence, not only of the health and welfare, but even the lives of many: When we are acquainted with, I say, and duly consider the things I named, it is scarce possible to conceive a tyrant so inhuman, and void of shame, that, beholding things in the same view, he should exact such terrible services from his innocent slaves; and, at the same time, dare to own, that he did it for no other reason, than the satisfaction a man receives from having a garment made of scarlet or crimson cloth. But to what height of luxury must a nation be arrived, where not only the king's officers, but likewise the guards, even the private soldiers, should have such impudent desires!
But if we turn the prospect, and look on all those labours as so many voluntary actions, belonging to different callings and occupations, that men are brought up to for a livelihood, and in which every one works for himself, how much soever he may seem to labour for others: If we consider, that even the sailors who undergo the greatest hardships, as soon as one voyage is ended, even after shipwreck, are looking out, and soliciting for employment in another: If we consider, I say, and look on these things in another view, we shall find, that the labour of the poor is so far from being a burden and an imposition upon them, that to have employment is a blessing, which, in their addresses to Heaven, they pray for, and to procure it for the generality of them, is the greatest care of every legislature.
As children, and even infants, are the apes of others, so all youth have an ardent desire of being men and women, and become often ridiculous by their impatient endeavours to appear what every body sees they are not; all large societies are not a little indebted to this folly for the perpetuity, or at least long continuance, of trades once established. What pains will young people take, and what violence will they not commit upon themselves, to attain to insignificant, and often blameable qualifications, which, for want of judgment and experience, they admire in others, that are superior to them in age! This fondness of imitation makes them accustom themselves, by degrees, to the use of things that were irksome, if not intolerable to them at first, till they know not how to leave them, and are often very sorry for having inconsiderately increased the necessaries of life without any necessity. What estates have been got by tea and coffee! What a vast traffic is drove, what a variety of labour is performed in the world, to the maintenance of thousands of families that altogether depend on two silly, if not odious customs; the taking of snuff, and smoking of tobacco; both which, it is certain, do infinitely more hurt than good to those that are addicted to them! I shall go further, and demonstrate the usefulness of private losses and misfortunes to the public, and the folly of our wishes, when we pretend to be most wise and serious. The fire of London was a great calamity; but if the carpenters, bricklayers, smiths, and all, not only that are employed in building, but likewise those that made and dealt in the same manufactures, and other merchandises that were burnt, and other trades again that got by them when they were in full employ, were to vote against those who lost by the fire, the rejoicings would equal, if not exceed the complaints. In recruiting what is lost and destroyed by fire, storms, sea-fights, sieges, battles, a considerable part of trade consists; the truth of which, and whatever I have said of the nature of society, will plainly appear from what follows.
It would be a difficult task to enumerate all the advantages and different benefits, that accrue to a nation, on account of shipping and navigation; but if we only take into consideration the ships themselves, and every vessel great and small that is made use of for water-carriage, from the least wherry to a first rate man of war; the timber and hands that are employed in the building of them; and consider the pitch, tar, rosin, grease; the masts, yards, sails and riggings; the variety of smiths work; the cables, oars, and every thing else belonging to them; we shall find, that to furnish only such a nation as ours with all the necessaries, make up a considerable part of the traffic of Europe, without speaking of the stores and ammunition of all sorts, that are consumed in them, or the mariners, waterman and others, with their families, that are maintained by them.
But should we, on the other hand, take a view of the manifold mischiefs and variety of evils, moral as well as natural, that befal nations on the score of seafaring, and their commerce with strangers, the prospect would be very frightful; and could we suppose a large populous island, that should be wholly unacquainted with ships and sea affairs, but otherwise a wise and well-governed people; and that some angel, or their genius, should lay before them a scheme or draught, where they might see on the one side, all the riches and real advantages that would be acquired by navigation in a thousand years; and on the other, the wealth and lives that would be lost, and all the other calamities, that would be unavoidably sustained on account of it during the same time, I am confident, they would look upon ships with horror and detestation, and that their prudent rulers would severely forbid the making and inventing all buildings or machines to go to sea with, of what shape or denomination soever, and prohibit all such abominable contrivances on great penalties, if not the pain of death.
But to let alone the necessary consequence of foreign trade, the corruption of manners, as well as plagues, poxes, and other diseases, that are brought to us by shipping, should we only cast our eyes on what is either to be imputed to the wind and weather, the treachery of the seas, the ice of the north, the vermin of the south, the darkness of nights, and unwholesomeness of climates, or else occasioned by the want of good provisions, and the faults of mariners, and unskilfulness of some, and the neglect and drunkenness of others; and should we consider the losses of men and treasure swallowed up in the deep, the tears and necessities of widows and orphans made by the sea, the ruin of merchants and the consequences, the continual anxieties that parents and wives are in for the safety of their children and husbands, and not forget the many pangs and heart-aches that are felt throughout a trading nation, by owners and insurers, at every blast of wind; should we cast our eyes, I say, on these things, consider with due attention and give them the weight they deserve, would it not be amazing, how a nation of thinking people should talk of their ships and navigation as a peculiar blessing to them, and placing an uncommon felicity in having an infinity of vessels dispersed through the wide world, and always some going to and others coming from every part of the universe?
But let us once, in our consideration on these things, confine ourselves to what the ships suffer only, the vessels themselves, with their rigging and appurtenances, without thinking on the freight they carry, or the hands that work them, and we shall find that the damage sustained that way only, is very considerable, and must one year with another amount to vast sums; the ships that are foundered at sea, split against rocks and swallowed up by sands, some by the fierceness of tempests altogether, others by that and the want of pilots, experience, and knowledge of the coasts: the masts that are blown down, or forced to be cut and thrown overboard, the yards, sails, and cordage of different sizes that are destroyed by storms, and the anchors that are lost: add to these the necessary repairs of leaks sprung, and other hurts received from the rage of winds, and the violence of the waves: many ships are set on fire by carelessness, and the effects of strong liquors, which none are more addicted to than sailors: sometimes unhealthy climates, at others the badness of provision breed fatal distempers, that sweep away the greatest part of the crew, and not a few ships are lost for want of hands.
These are all calamities inseparable from navigation, and seem to be great impediments that clog the wheels of foreign commerce. How happy would a merchant think himself, if his ships should always have fine weather, and the wind he wished for, and every mariner he employed, from the highest to the lowest, be a knowing experienced sailor, and a careful, sober, good man! Was such a felicity to be had for prayers, what owner of ships is there, or dealer in Europe, nay, the whole world, who would not be all day long teazing Heaven to obtain such a blessing for himself, without regard to what detriment it would do to others? Such a petition would certainly be a very unconscionable one; yet where is the man who imagines not that he has a right to make it? And therefore, as every one pretends to an equal claim to those favours, let us, without reflecting on the impossibility of its being true, suppose all their prayers effectual and their wishes answered, and afterwards examine into the result of such a happiness.
Ships would last as long as timber houses to the full, because they are as strongly built, and the latter are liable to suffer by high winds and other storms, which the first, by our supposition, are not to be: so that, before there would be any real occasion for new ships, the master builders now in being, and every body under them, that is set to work about them, would all die a natural death, if they were not starved or come to some untimely end: for, in the first place, all ships having prosperous gales, and never waiting for the wind, they would make very quick voyages both out and home: secondly, no merchandises would be damaged by the sea, or by stress of weather thrown overboard, but the entire lading would always come safe ashore; and hence it would follow, that three parts in four of the merchantmen already made, would be superfluous for the present, and the stock of ships that are now in the world, serve a vast many years. Masts and yards would last as long as the vessels themselves, and we should not need to trouble Norway on that score a great while yet. The sails and rigging, indeed, of the few ships made use of would wear out, but not a quarter part so fast as now they do, for they often suffer more in one hour's storm, than in ten days fair weather.
Anchors and cables there would be seldom any occasion for, and one of each would last a ship time out of mind: this article alone, would yield many a tedious holiday to the anchor-smiths and the rope-yards. This general want of consumption would have such an influence on the timber-merchants, and all that import iron, sail-cloth, hemp, pitch, tar, &c. that four parts in five of what, in the beginning of this reflection on sea-affairs, I said, made a considerable branch of the traffic of Europe, would be entirely lost.
I have only touched hitherto on the consequences of this blessing in relation to shipping, but it would be detrimental to all other branches of trade besides, and destructive to the poor of every country, that exports any thing of their own growth or manufacture. The goods and merchandises that every year go to the deep, that are spoiled at sea by salt water, by heat, by vermine, destroyed by fire, or lost to the merchant by other accidents, all owing to storms or tedious voyages, or else the neglect or rapacity of sailors; such goods, I say, and merchandises are a considerable part of what every year is sent abroad throughout the world, and must have employed great multitudes of poor, before they could come on board. A hundred bales of cloth that are burnt or sunk in the Mediterranean, are as beneficial to the poor in England, as if they had safely arrived at Smyrna or Aleppo, and every yard of them had been retailed on the grand Signior's dominions.
The merchant may break, and by him the clothier, the dyer, the packer, and other tradesmen, the middling people, may suffer; but the poor that were set to work about them can never lose. Day-labourers commonly receive their earnings once a-week, and all the working people that were employed, either in any of the various branches of the manufacture itself, or the several land and water carriages it requires to be brought to perfection, from the sheep's back, to the vessel it was entered in, were paid, at least much the greatest part of them, before the parcel came on board. Should any of my readers draw conclusions in infinitum, from my assertions, that goods sunk or burnt are as beneficial to the poor, as if they had been well sold and put to their proper uses, I would count him a caviller and not worth answering: should it always rain and the sun never shine, the fruits of the earth would soon be rotten and destroyed; and yet it is no paradox to affirm, that, to have grass or corn, rain is as necessary as the sunshine.
In what manner this blessing of fair winds and fine weather, would affect the mariners themselves, and the breed of sailors, may be easily conjectured from what has been said already. As there would hardly one ship in four be made use of, so the vessels themselves being always exempt from storms, fewer hands would be required to work them, and consequently five in six of the seamen we have might be spared, which in this nation, most employments of the poor being overstocked, would be but an untoward article. As soon as those superfluous seamen should be extinct, it would be impossible to man such large fleets as we could at present: but I do not look upon this as a detriment, or the least inconveniency: for the reduction of mariners, as to numbers being general throughout the world, all the consequence would be, that in case of war, the maritime powers would be obliged to fight with fewer ships, which would be an happiness instead of an evil: and would you carry this felicity to the highest pitch of perfection, it is but to add one desirable blessing more, and no nation shall ever fight at all: the blessing I hint at is, what all good Christians are bound to pray for, viz. that all princes and states would be true to their oaths and promises, and just to one another, as well as their own subjects; that they might have a greater regard for the dictates of conscience and religion, than those of state politics and worldly wisdom, and prefer the spiritual welfare of others to their own carnal desires, and the honesty, the safety, the peace and tranquillity of the nations they govern, to their own love of glory, spirit of revenge, avarice, and ambition.
The last paragraph will to many seem a digression, that makes little for my purpose; but what I mean by it, is to demonstrate that goodness, integrity, and a peaceful disposition in rulers and governors of nations, are not the proper qualifications to aggrandize them, and increase their numbers; any more than the uninterrupted series of success that every private person would be blest with, if he could, and which I have shown would be injurious and destructive to a large society, that should place a felicity in worldly greatness, and being envied by their neighbours, and value themselves upon their honour and their strength.
No man needs to guard himself against blessings, but calamities require hands to avert them. The amiable qualities of man put none of the species upon stirring: his honesty, his love of company, his goodness, content and frugality, are so many comforts to an indolent society, and the more real and unaffected they are, the more they keep every thing at rest and peace, and the more they will every where prevent trouble and motion itself. The same almost may be said of the gifts and munificence of Heaven, and all the bounties and benefits of nature: this is certain, that the more extensive they are, and the greater plenty we have of them, the more we save our labour. But the necessities, the vices, and imperfections of man, together with the various inclemencies of the air and other elements, contain in them the seeds of all arts, industry and labours: it is the extremities of heat and cold, the inconstancy and badness of seasons, the violence and uncertainty of winds, the vast power and treachery of water, the rage and untractableness of fire, and the stubbornness and sterility of the earth, that rack our invention, how we shall either avoid the mischiefs they may produce, or correct the malignity of them, and turn their several forces to our own advantage a thousand different ways; while we are employed in supplying the infinite variety of our wants, which will ever be multiplied as our knowledge is enlarged, and our desires increase. Hunger, thirst, and nakedness, are the first tyrants that force us to stir: afterwards, our pride, sloth, sensuality, and fickleness, are the great patrons that promote all arts and sciences, trades, handicrafts and callings; while the great task-masters, necessity, avarice, envy, and ambition, each in the class that belongs to him, keep the members of the society to their labour, and make them all submit, most of them cheerfully, to the drudgery of their station; kings and princes not excepted.
The greater the variety of trades and manufactures the more operose they are, and the more they are divided in many branches, the greater numbers may be contained in a society without being in one another's way, and the more easily they may be rendered a rich, potent, and flourishing people. Few virtues employ any hands, and therefore they may render a small nation good, but they can never make a great one. To be strong and laborious, patient in difficulties, and assiduous in all business, are commendable qualities; but as they do their own work, so they are their own reward, and neither art nor industry have ever paid their compliments to them; whereas the excellency of human thought and contrivance, has been, and is yet no where more conspicuous than in the variety of tools and instruments of workmen and artificers, and the multiplicity of engines, that were all invented either to assist the weakness of man, to correct his many imperfections, to gratify his laziness, or obviate his impatience.
It is in morality as it is in nature, there is nothing so perfectly good in creatures, that it cannot be hurtful to any one of the society, nor any thing so entirely evil, but it may prove beneficial to some part or other of the creation: so that things are only good and evil in reference to something else, and according to the light and position they are placed in. What pleases us is good in that regard, and by this rule every man wishes well for himself to the best of his capacity, with little respect to his neighbour. There never was any rain yet, though in a very dry season when public prayers had been made for it, but somebody or other who wanted to go abroad, wished it might be fair weather only for that day. When the corn stands thick in the spring, and the generality of the country rejoice at the pleasing object, the rich farmer who kept his last year's crop for a better market, pines at the sight, and inwardly grieves at the prospect of a plentiful harvest. Nay, we shall often hear your idle people openly wish for the possessions of others, and not to be injurious forsooth add this wise proviso, that it should be without detriment to the owners: but I am afraid they often do it without any such restriction in their hearts.
It is a happiness that the prayers as well as wishes of most people, are insignificant and good for nothing; or else the only thing that could keep mankind fit for society, and the world from falling into confusion, would be the impossibility that all the petitions made to Heaven should be granted. A dutiful pretty young gentleman newly come from his travels, lies at the Briel waiting with impatience for an easterly wind, to waft him over to England, where a dying father, who wants to embrace and give him his blessing before he yields his breath, lies hoaning after him, melted with grief and tenderness: in the mean while a British minister, who is to take care of the Protestant interest in Germany, is riding post to Harwich, and in violent haste to be at Ratisbone before the diet breaks up. At the same time a rich fleet lies ready for the Mediterranean, and a fine squadron is bound for the Baltic. All these things may probably happen at once, at least there is no difficulty in supposing they should. If these people are not atheists, or very great reprobates, they will all have some good thoughts before they go to sleep, and consequently about bed-time, they must all differently pray for a fair wind and a prosperous voyage. I do not say but it is their duty, and it is possible they may be all heard, but I am sure they cannot be all served at the same time.
After this, I flatter myself to have demonstrated that, neither the friendly qualities and kind affections that are natural to man, nor the real virtues he is capable of acquiring by reason and self-denial, are the foundation of society; but that what we call evil in this world, moral as well as natural, is the grand principle that makes us sociable creatures, the solid basis, the life and support of all trades and employments without exception: that there we must look for the true origin of all arts and sciences, and that the moment evil ceases, the society must be spoiled, if not totally dissolved.
I could add a thousand things to enforce, and further illustrate this truth, with abundance of pleasure; but for fear of being troublesome, I shall make an end, though I confess that I have not been half so solicitous to gain the approbation of others, as I have studied to please myself in this amusement: yet if ever I hear, that by following this diversion I have given any to the intelligent reader, it will always add to the satisfaction I have received in the performance. In the hope my vanity forms of this, I leave him with regret, and conclude with repeating the seeming paradox, the substance of which is advanced in the title page; that private vices, by the dexterous management of a skilful politician, may be turned into public benefits.
A
VINDICATION
OF THE
Book, from the Aspersions contained in a Presentment of
the Grand Jury of Middlesex,
And an Abusive Letter to Lord C----
That the reader may be fully instructed in the merits of the cause between my adversaries and myself, it is requisite that, before he sees my defence, he should know the whole charge, and have before him all the accusations against me at large.
The Presentment of the Grand Jury is worded thus:
We the Grand Jury for the county of Middlesex, have, with the greatest sorrow and concern, observed the many books and pamphlets that are almost every week published against the sacred articles of our holy religion, and all discipline and order in the church, and the manner in which this is carried on, seems to us to have a direct tendency to propagate infidelity, and consequently corruption of all morals.
We are justly sensible of the goodness of the Almighty, that has preserved us from the plague, which has visited our neighbouring nation, and for which great mercy, his Majesty was graciously pleased to command, by his proclamation, that thanks should be returned to Heaven; but how provoking must it be to the Almighty, that his mercies and deliverances extended to this nation, and our thanksgiving that was publicly commanded for it, should be attended with such flagrant impieties.
We know of nothing that can be of greater service to his Majesty, and the Protestant succession (which is happily established among us for the defence of the Christian Religion), than the suppression of blasphemy and profaneness, which has a direct tendency to subvert the very foundation on which his Majesty's government is fixed.
So restless have these zealots for infidelity been in their diabolical attempts against religion, that they have,
First, Openly blasphemed and denied the doctrine of the ever Blessed Trinity, endeavouring, by species pretences, to revive the Arian heresy, which was never introduced into any nation, but the vengeance of Heaven pursued it.
Secondly, They affirm an absolute fate, and deny the Providence and government of the Almighty in the world.
Thirdly, They have endeavoured to subvert all order and discipline of the church, and by vile and unjust reflections on the clergy, they strive to bring contempt on all religion; that by the libertinism of their opinions they may encourage and draw others into the immoralities of their practice.
Fourthly, That a general libertinism may the more effectually be established, the universities are decried, and all instructions of youth in the principles of the Christian religion are exploded with the greatest malice and falsity.
Fifthly, The more effectually to carry on these works of darkness, studied artifices, and invented colours, have been made use of to run down religion and virtue as prejudicial to society, and detrimental to the state; and to recommend luxury, avarice, pride, and all kind of vices, as being necessary to public welfare, and not tending to the destruction of the constitution: nay, the very stews themselves have had strained apologies and forced encomiums made in their favour, and produced in print, with design, we conceive, to debauch the nation.
These principles having a direct tendency to the subversion of all religion and civil government, our duty to the Almighty, our love to our country, and regard to our oaths, oblige us to present
as the publisher of a book, intituled the Fable of the Bees; or Private Vices Public Benefits. 2d. Edit. 1723.
And also
as the publisher of a weekly paper, called the British Journal, Numb. 26, 35, 36, and 39.
The Letter I complain of is this:
My Lord,
It is welcome news to all the king's loyal subjects and true friends to the established government and succession in the illustrious house of Hanover, that your Lordship is said to be contriving some effectual means of securing us from the dangers, wherewith his Majesty's happy government seems to be threatened by Catiline, under the name of Cato; by the writer of a book, intituled, The Fable of the Bees, &c. and by others of their fraternity, who are undoubtedly useful friends to the Pretender, and diligent, for his sake, in labouring to subvert and ruin our constitution, under a specious pretence of defending it. Your Lordship's wise resolution, totally to suppress such impious writings, and the direction already given for having them presented, immediately, by some of the grand juries, will effectually convince the nation, that no attempts against Christianity will be suffered or endured here. And this conviction will at once rid men's minds of the uneasiness which this flagitious race of writers has endeavoured to raise in them; will therefore be a firm bulwark to the Protestant religion; will effectually defeat the projects and hopes of the Pretender; and best secure us against any change in the ministry. And no faithful Briton could be unconcerned, if the people should imagine any the least neglect in any single person bearing a part in the ministry, or begin to grow jealous, that any thing could be done, which is not done, in defending their religion from every the least appearance of danger approaching towards it. And, my Lord, this jealousy might have been apt to rise, if no measures had been taken to discourage and crush the open advocates of irreligion. It is no easy matter to get jealousy out of one's brains, when it is once got into them. Jealousy, my Lord! it is as furious a fiend as any of them all. I have seen a little thin weak woman so invigorated by a fit of jealousy, that five grenadiers could not hold her. My Lord, go on with your just methods of keeping the people clear of this cursed jealousy: for amongst the various kinds and occasions of it, that which concerns their religion, is the most violent, flagrant, frantic sort of all; and accordingly has, in former reigns, produced those various mischiefs, which your Lordship has faithfully determined to prevent, dutifully regarding the royal authority, and conforming to the example of his Majesty, who has graciously given directions (which are well known to your Lordship) for the preserving of unity in the church; and the purity of the Christian faith. It is in vain to think that the people of England will ever give up their religion, or be very fond of any ministry that will not support it, as the wisdom of this ministry has done, against such audacious attacks as are made upon it by the scribblers; for scribbler, your Lordship knows, is the just appellation of every author, who, under whatever plausible appearance of good sense, attempts to undermine the religion, and therefore the content and quiet, the peace and happiness of his fellow-subjects, by subtle and artful, and fallacious arguments and insinuations. May Heaven avert those insufferable miseries, which the Church of Rome would bring upon us! tyranny is the bane of human society, and there is no tyranny heavier than that of the triple crown. And, therefore, this free and happy people has justly conceived an utter abhorrence and dread of Popery, and of every thing that looks like encouragement or tendency to it; but they do also abhor and dread the violence offered to Christianity itself, by our British Catilines, who shelter their treacherous designs against it, under the false colours of regard and good will to our blessed Protestant religion, while they demonstrate, too plainly demonstrate, that the title of Protestants does not belong to them, unless it can belong to those who are in effect protestors against all religion.
And really the people cannot be much blamed for being a little unwilling to part with their religion: for they tell ye that there is a God; and that God governs the world; and that he is wont to bless or blast a kingdom, in proportion to the degrees of religion or irreligion prevailing in it. Your Lordship has a fine collection of books; and, which is a finer thing still, you do certainly understand them, and can turn to an account of any important affair in a trice. I would therefore fain know, whether your Lordship can show, from any writer, let him be as profane as the scribblers would have him, that any one empire, kingdom, country, or province, great or small, did not dwindle and sink, and was confounded, when it once failed of providing studiously for the support of religion.
The scribblers talk much of the Roman government, and liberty, and the spirit of the old Romans. But it is undeniable, that their most plausible talk of these things is all pretence, and grimace, and an artifice to serve the purposes of irreligion; and by consequence to render the people uneasy, and ruin the kingdom. For if they did in reality esteem, and would faithfully recommend to their countrymen, the sentiments and principles, the main purposes and practices of the wise and prosperous Romans, they would, in the first place, put us in mind, that old Rome was as remarkable for observing and promoting natural religion, as new Rome has been for corrupting that which is revealed. And as the old Romans did signally recommend themselves to the favour of heaven, by their faithful care of religion; so were they abundantly convinced, and did accordingly acknowledge, with universal consent, that their care of religion was the great means [8] of God's preserving the empire, and crowning it with conquest and success, prosperity and glory. Hence it was, that when their orators were bent upon exerting their utmost in moving and persuading the people, upon any occasion, they ever put them in mind of their religion, if that could be any way affected by the point in debate; not doubting that the people would determine in their favour, if they could but demonstrate, that the safety of religion depended upon the success of their cause. And, indeed, neither the Romans, nor any other nation upon earth, did ever suffer their established religion to be openly ridiculed, exploded, or opposed: and I am sure, your Lordship would not, for all the world, that this thing would be done with impunity amongst us, which was never endured in the world before. Did ever any man, since the blessed revelation of the gospel, run riot upon Christianity, as some men, nay, and some few women too, have lately done? must the devil grow rampant at this rate, and not to be called coram nobis? Why should not he content himself to carry off people in the common way, the way of cursing and swearing, Sabbath breaking and cheating, bribery, and hypocrisy, drunkenness and whoring, and such kind of things as he used to do? never let him domineer in mens mouths and writings, as he does now, with loud, tremendous infidelity, blasphemy and profaneness, enough to frighten the King's subjects out of their wits. We are now come to a short question: God or the devil? that is the word; and time will show, who and who goes together. Thus much may be said at present, that those have abundantly shown their spirit of opposition to sacred things, who have not only inveighed against the national profession and exercise of religion; and endeavoured, with bitterness and dexterity, to render it odious and contemptible, but are solicitous to hinder multitudes of the natives of this island from having the very seeds of religion sown among them with advantage.
Arguments are urged, with the utmost vehemence, against the education of poor children in the charity schools, though there hath not one just reason been offered against the provision made for that education. The things that have been objected against it are not, in fact, true; and nothing ought to be regarded, by serious and wise men, as a weighty or just argument, if it is not a true one. How hath Catiline the confidence left to look any man in the face, after he hath spent more confidence than most mens whole stock amounts to, in saying, that this pretended charity has, in effect, destroyed all other charities, which were before given to the aged, sick, and impotent.
It seems pretty clear, that if those, who do not contribute to any charity school, are become more uncharitable to any other object than formerly they were, their want of charity to the one, is not owing to their contribution to the other. And as to those who do contribute to these schools; they are so far from being more sparing in their relief of other objects, than they were before, that the poor widows, the aged and the impotent do plainly receive more relief from them, in proportion to their numbers and abilities, than from any the same numbers of men under the same circumstances of fortune, who do not concern themselves with charity schools, in any respect, but in condemning and decrying them. I will meet Catiline at the Grecian coffee-house any day in the week, and by an enumeration of particular persons, in as great a number as he pleaseth, demonstrate the truth of what I say. But I do not much depend upon his giving me the meeting, because it is his business, not to encourage demonstrations of the truth, but to throw disguises upon it; otherwise, he never could have allowed himself, after representing the charity schools as intended to breed up children to reading and writing, and a sober behaviour, that they may be qualified to be servants, immediately to add these words, a sort of idle and rioting vermin, by which the kingdom is already almost devoured, and are become every where a public nuisance, &c. What? Is it owing to the charity schools, that servants are become so idle, such rioting vermin, such a public nuisance; that women-servants turn whores, and the men-servants robbers, house-breakers, and sharpers? (as he says they commonly do). Is this owing to the charity schools? or, if it is not, how comes he to allow himself the liberty of representing these schools as a means of increasing this load of mischief, which is indeed too plainly fallen upon the public? The imbibing principles of virtue hath not, usually, been thought the chief occasion of running into vice. If the early knowledge of truth, and of our obligations to it, were the surest means of departing from it, nobody would doubt, that the knowledge of truth was instilled into Catiline very early, and with the utmost care. It is a good pretty thing in him to spread a report, and to lay so much stress upon it as he does, that there is more collected at the church doors in a day, to make these poor boys and girls appear in caps and livery-coats, than for all the poor in a year. O rare Catiline! This point you will carry most swimmingly; for you have no witnesses against you, nor any living soul to contradict you, except the collectors and overseers of the poor, and all other principal inhabitants of most of the parishes, where any charity schools are in England.
The jest of it is, my Lord, that these scribblers would still be thought good moral men. But, when men make it their business to mislead and deceive their neighbours, and that in matters of moment, by distorting and disguising the truth, by misrepresentations and false insinuations; if such men are not guilty of usurpation, while they take upon them the character of good moral men, then it is not immoral, in any man, to be false and deceitful, in cases where the law cannot touch him for being so, and morality bears no relation to truth and fair dealing. However, I shall not be very willing to meet one of these moral men upon Hounslow-heath, if I should happen to ride that way without pistols. For I have a notion, that they who have no conscience in one point, do not much abound with it in another. Your Lordship, who judges accurately of men, as well as books, will easily imagine, if you had no other knowledge of the charity schools, that there must be something very excellent in them because such kind of men as these are so warm in opposing them.
They tell you, that these schools are hindrances to husbandry and to manufacture. As to husbandry; the children are not kept in the schools longer than till they are of age and strength to perform the principal parts of it, or to bear constant labour in it; and even while they are under this course of education, your Lordship may depend upon it, that they shall never be hindered from working in the fields, or being employed in such labour as they are capable of, in any parts of the year, when they can get such employment for the support of their parents and themselves. In this case, the parents, in the several counties, are proper judges of their several situations and circumstances, and at the same time, not so very fond of their children getting a little knowledge, rather than a little money, but that they will find other employment for them than going to school, whenever they can get a penny by so doing. And the case is the same as to the manufactures; the trustees of the charity schools, and the parents of the children bred in them, would be thankful to those gentlemen who make the objection, if they would assist in removing it, by subscribing to a fund for joining the employment of manufacture, to the business of learning to read and write in the charity schools. This would be a noble work: it is already effected by the supporters of some charity schools, and is aimed at, and earnestly desired by all the rest: but Rome was not built in a day. Till this great thing can be brought about, let the masters and managers of the manufactures in the several places of the kingdom, be so charitable as to employ the poor children for a certain number of hours in every day, in the respective manufactures, while the trustees are taking care to fill up their other hours of the day, in the usual duties of the charity schools. It is an easy matter for party-men, for designing and perverted minds, to invent colourable, fallacious arguments, and to offer railing, under the appearance of reasoning, against the best things in the world. But undoubtedly, no impartial man, who is affected with a serious sense of goodness, and a real love of his country, can think this proper and just view of the charity schools, liable to any just weighty objection, or refuse to contribute his endeavours to improve and raise them to that perfection which is proposed in them. In the mean time, let no man be so weak or so wicked as to deny, that when poor children cannot meet with employment in any other honest way, rather than suffer their tender age to be spent in idleness, or in learning the arts of lying, and swearing, and stealing, it is true charity to them, and good service done to our country, to employ them in learning the principles of religion and virtue, till their age and strength will enable them to become servants in families, or to be engaged in husbandry, or manufacture, or any kind of mechanic trade or laborious employment; for to these laborious employments are the charity children generally, if not always turned, as soon as they become capable of them: and therefore Catiline may be pleased to retract his objection concerning shop-keepers, or retailers of commodities, wherein he has affirmed, that their employments, which he says ought to fall to the share of children of their own degree, are mostly anticipated and engrossed by the managers of the charity schools. He must excuse my acquainting your Lordship, that this affirmation is in fact directly false, which is an inconvenience very apt to fall upon his affirmations, as it has particularly done upon one of them more, which I would mention. For he is not ashamed roundly to assert, That the principles of our common people are debauched in our charity schools, who are taught, as soon as they can speak, to blabber out High-church and Ormond, and so are bred up to be traitors before they know what treason signifies. Your Lordship, and other persons of integrity, whose words are the faithful representatives of their meaning, would now think, if I had not given you a key to Catiline's talk, that he has been fully convinced, that the children in the charity schools are bred up to be traitors.
My Lord, if any one master be suffered by the trustees to continue in any charity school, against whom proof can be brought, that he is disaffected to the government, or that he does not as faithfully teach the children obedience and loyalty to the King, as any other duty in the catechism, then I will gratify Catiline with a licence to pull down the schools, and hang up the masters, according to his heart's desire.
These, and such things as these, are urged with the like bitterness, and as little truth, in the book mentioned above, viz. The Fable of the Bees; or, Private Vices, Public Benefits, &c. Catiline explodes the fundamental articles of faith, impiously comparing the doctrine of the blessed Trinity to fee-fa-fum: this profligate author of the Fable is not only an auxiliary to Catiline in opposition to faith, but has taken upon him to tear up the very foundations of moral virtue, and establish vice in its room. The best physician in the world did never labour more, to purge the natural body of bad qualities, than this bumble-bee has done to purge the body-politic of good ones. He himself bears testimony to the truth of this charge against him: for when he comes to the conclusion of his book, he makes this observation upon himself and his performance: "After this, I flatter myself to have demonstrated, that neither the friendly qualities and kind affections that are natural to man, nor the real virtues he is capable of acquiring by reason and self-denial, are the foundation of society; but that what we call evil in this world, moral as well as natural, is the grand principle that makes us sociable creatures, the solid basis, the life and support of all trades and employments without exception: that there we must look for the true origin of all arts and sciences, and that the moment evil ceases, the society must be spoiled, if not totally dissolved."
Now, my Lord, you see the grand design, the main drift of Catiline and his confederates; now the scene opens, and the secret springs appear; now the fraternity adventure to speak out, and surely no band of men ever dared to speak at this rate before; now you see the true cause of all their enmity to the poor charity schools; it is levelled against religion: religion, my Lord, which the schools are instituted to promote, and which this confederacy is resolved to destroy; for the schools are certainly one of the greatest instruments of religion and virtue, one of the firmest bulwarks against Popery, one of the best recommendations of this people to the Divine favour, and therefore one of the greatest blessings to our country of any thing that has been set on foot since our happy Reformation and deliverance from the idolatry and tyranny of Rome. If any trivial inconvenience did arise from so excellent a work, as some little inconvenience attends all human institutions and affairs, the excellency of the work would still be matter of joy, and find encouragement with all the wise and the good, who despise such insignificant objections against it, as other men are not ashamed to raise and defend.
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The Fable of the Bees; Or, Private Vices, Public BenefitsChapter XIII: Preface (12)
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