SKETCH IX.
MILITARY Branch of GOVERNMENT.

DURING the infancy of a nation, every member depends on his own in⯑duſtry for procuring the neceſſaries of life: he is his own maſon, his own taylor, his own phyſician; and on himſelf he chiefly relies for offence as well as defence. Every ſavage can ſay, what few beggars among us can ſay, Omnia mea mecum porto; and hence the apti⯑tude of a ſavage for war, which makes little alte⯑ration in his manner of living. In early times accordingly, the men were all warriors, and every known art was exerciſed by women; which is [2] the caſe at preſent of American ſavages. And even after arts were ſo much improved as to be exerciſed by men, none who could bear arms were exempted from war. In feudal governments, the military ſpirit was carried to a great height: all gentlemen were ſoldiers by profeſſion; and every other art was deſpiſed, as low, if not con⯑temptible.

Even in this untoward ſtate, arts made ſome progreſs, not excepting thoſe for amuſement; and many conveniencies, formerly unknown, became neceſſary to comfortable living. A man cannot bear to be deprived of the conveniencies and amuſements to which he is accuſtomed: he hates war, and clings to the ſweets of peace. Hence the neceſſity of a military eſtabliſhment, hard⯑ening men by ſtrict diſcipline to endure the fa⯑tigues of war. By ſtanding armies, war is carried on more regularly and ſcientifically than in feudal governments; and as it is carried on with infinite⯑ly greater expence; nations are more reſerved in declaring war than formerly. Long experience has at the ſame time made it evident, that a nation ſeldom gains by war; and that agriculture, ma⯑nufactures, and commerce, are the only ſolid foundations of power and grandeur. Theſe arts accordingly have become the chief objects of European governments, and the only rational cau⯑ſes of war. Among the warlike nations of Greece and Italy, how would it have ſounded, that their effeminate deſcendants would employ ſoldiers by profeſſion to fight their battles? And yet this is neceſſary, in every country where arts and manu⯑factures flouriſh; which, requiring little exerciſe, tend to enervate the body, and of courſe the mind. Gain, at the ſame time, being the ſole object of induſtry, advances ſelfiſhneſs to be the ruling paſſion, and brings on a timid anxiety about [3] property and ſelf-preſervation. Cyrus, tho' flaming with reſentment againſt the Lydians for revolting, liſtened to the following ſagacious ad⯑vice, offered by Croeſus, their former King. ‘"O Cyrus, deſtroy not Sardis, an ancient city, famous for arts and arms; but, pardoning what is paſt, demand all their arms, encourage lux⯑ury, and exhort them to inſtruct their children in every art of gainful commerce. You will ſoon ſee, O King, that inſtead of men, they will be women."’ The Arabians, a brave and generous people, conquered Spain, and drove into the inacceſſible mountains of Biſcay and Auſtria, the few natives who ſtood out. When no longer an enemy appeared, they turned their ſwords into plough-ſhares, and became a rich and flouriſhing nation. The inhabitants of the mountains, hard⯑ened by poverty and ſituation, ventured, after a long interval, to peep out from their ſtrong-holds, and to lie in wait for ſtraggling parties. Finding themſelves now a match for a people, whom opu⯑lence had betrayed to luxury, and the arts of peace to cowardice; they took courage to diſplay their banners in the open field; and after many military atchievements, ſucceeded in reconquering Spain. The Scots, inhabiting the mountainous parts of Caledonia, were an overmatch for the Picts, who occupied the fertile plains, and at laſt ſubdued them^*.

[4] Where arts, manufactures, and commerce, have arrived at perfection, a pacific ſpirit pre⯑vails univerſally: not a ſpark is left of military ardor, nor will any man be a ſoldier. Hence in ſuch a ſtate, the neceſſity of mercenary troops, hired among nations leſs effeminate, who fight for pay, not for the ſtate they ſerve. Benjamin de Tudele, a Spaniſh Jew, who wrote in the twelfth century, reports, that the Greeks, by luxury and effeminacy, had contracted a degree of ſoftneſs, that made them reſemble women more than men; and that the Greek Emperor was reduced to the neceſſity of employing mercenary troops, to de⯑fend his country againſt the Turks. And accord⯑ingly when, in the year 1453, the city of Con⯑ſtantinople, defended by a garriſon not exceeding 6000 men, was beſieged by the Turks, and re⯑duced to extremity, not a ſingle inhabitant had courage to take up arms, all waiting with torpid deſpondence the hour of utter extirpation. Venice, Genoa, and other ſmall Italian ſtates, became ſo effeminate by long and ſucceſsful commerce, that not a citizen ever thought of ſerving in the army; which obliged them to employ mercenaries, offi⯑cers as well as private men. Theſe mercenaries at firſt fought conſcientiouſly for their pay; but re⯑flecting, that the victors were not better paid than [5] the vanquiſhed, they learned to play booty. In a battle particularly between the Piſans and Flo⯑rentines, which laſted from ſun-riſing to ſun⯑ſetting, there was but a ſingle man loſt, who, having accidentally fallen from his horſe, was trode under foot. Charles VIII. of France, when he invaded Italy anno 1498, underſtood nothing of ſuch mock battles; and his men were held to be devils incarnate, who ſeemed to take delight in ſhedding human blood. The Dutch, who for many years have been reduced to mercenary troops, are more indebted to the mutual jea⯑louſy of their neighbours for their indepen⯑dence, than to their own army. In the year 1672, Lewis of France invaded Holland, and in forty days took forty walled towns. That country was ſaved, not by his army, but by being laid un⯑der water. Froſt, which is uſual at that ſeaſon, would have put an end to the ſeven United Pro⯑vinces.

The ſmall principality of Palmyra is the only inſtance known in hiſtory, where the military ſpirit was not enervated by opulence. Pliny de⯑ſcribes that country as extremely pleaſant, and bleſſed with plenty of ſprings, tho' ſurrounded with dry and ſandy deſerts. The commerce of the Indies was at that time carried on by land; and the city of Palmyra was the centre of that commerce between the Eaſt and the Weſt. Its territory being very ſmall, little more than ſuffi⯑cient for villas and pleaſure-grounds, the inhabi⯑tants, like thoſe of Hamburgh, had no way to employ their richeſs for profit but in trade. At the ſame time, being ſituated between the two mighty empires of Rome and Parthia, it required great addreſs, and the moſt aſſiduous military diſ⯑cipline, to preſerve the inhabitants from being ſwallowed up by the one or the other. This [6] tickliſh ſituation preſerved them from luxury and effeminacy, the uſual concomitants of riches. They made a better figure with their ſuperfluous wealth: they laid it out on magnificent buildings, and adorning their country-ſeats. The fine arts in general, were among them carried to a high degree of perfection. The famous Zenobia, their Queen, led captive to Rome after being de⯑prived of her dominions, was admired and cele⯑brated for ſpirit, for learning, and for an exqui⯑ſite taſte in the fine arts.

Thus, by accumulating wealth, a manufactur⯑ing and commercial people become a tempting object for conqueſt; and by effeminacy become an eaſy conqueſt. The military ſpirit ſeems to be much decayed in Britain; and ere it be gone, will no phantom appear, even in a dream, to diſturb our downy reſt? Formerly, the culture of corn in the temperate regions of Europe and Aſia, proved a tempting bait to northern ſavages who wanted bread: have we no cauſe to dread a ſimi⯑lar fate from ſome warlike neighbour, impelled by hunger, or by ambition, to extend his domi⯑nions? The difficulty of providing for defence, without hurting induſtry, has produced a general opinion among political writers, that a nation, if it will preſerve its military ſpirit, muſt exclude induſtry; and, if it will preſerve its induſtry, muſt give up all hopes of retaining its military ſpirit. In the former caſe, we are ſecure againſt any invader: in the latter, we indeed make a conſiderable figure, but lie open to every invader. Happy would Britain be, could the ſpirit of war and of commerce be made compatible by ſome mi⯑litary plan, that would protect us againſt enemies, without hurting our induſtry and manufactures. That ſuch a plan is not abſolutely impracticable, will, I hope, appear from what follows; tho' [7] I am far from hoping that it will meet with uni⯑verſal approbation. To prepare the reader, I ſhall premiſe an account of the different military eſtabliſhments that exiſt, and have exiſted, in Europe, with the advantages and diſadvantages of each. In examining theſe, who knows whether ſome hint may not occur of a plan more perfect than any of them.

The moſt illuſtrious military eſtabliſhment of antiquity is that of the Romans, by which they ſubdued almoſt all the known world. The Roman citizens were many of them huſbandmen, and all of them ſoldiers. The inhabitants of Rome, in particular, lived upon their pay when in the field; but if they happened not to be ſuc⯑ceſsful in plundering, they had no means of li⯑ving at home. An annual diſtribution of corn among them became neceſſary, which in effect correſponded to the halfpay of our officers. It is believed, that ſuch a conſtitution would not be adopted by any modern ſtate. It was a forc'd conſtitution; contrary to nature, which gives different diſpoſitions to men, in order to ſupply hands for every neceſſary art. It was, at the ſame time, extremely precarious, there being in it no medium between univerſal conqueſt and the moſt wretched ſlavery. Had the Gauls, who conqured Rome, entertained any view but of plunder, Rome would never have been more heard of. It was on the brink of ruin in the war with Hannibal. What would have happened had Hannibal been victorious? It is eaſy to judge, by comparing it with Carthage. Carthage was a commercial ſtate, the people all employ'd in arts, manufactures, and navigation. The Carthaginians were ſubdued; but they could not be reduced to extremity, while they had acceſs to the ſea. In fact, they pro⯑ſpered ſo much by commerce, even after they [8] were ſubdued, as to raiſe jealouſy in their maſters, who thought themſelves not ſecure while a houſe remained ſtanding in Carthage. On the other hand, what reſource for the inhabitants of Rome, had they been ſubdued? They muſt have periſh⯑ed by hunger; for they could not work. In a word, ancient Rome reſembles a gameſter who ventures all upon one deciſive throw: if he loſe, he is undone.

I take it for granted, that our feudal ſyſtem will not have a ſingle vote. It was a ſyſtem that led to confuſion and anarchy, as little fitted for war as for peace. And as for mercenary troops, it is unneceſſary to bring them again into the field, after what is ſaid of them above.

The only remaining forms that merit attention, are a ſtanding army, and a militia; which I ſhall examine in their order, with the objections that lie againſt each. The firſt ſtanding army in modern times was eſtabliſhed by Charles VII. of France, on a very imperfect plan. By an edict anno 1448, he appointed each pariſh to furniſh an archer: theſe were termed franc-archers, becauſe they were exempted from all taxes. This little army was intended for reſtoring peace and order at home, not for diſturbing neighbouring ſtates. This good prince had been forced into many peri⯑lous wars, ſome of them for reſtraining the tur⯑bulent ſpirit of his vaſſals, and moſt of them for defending his crown againſt a powerful adverſary, Henry V. of England. As theſe wars were car⯑ried on in the feudal manner, the ſoldiers, who had no pay, could not be reſtrained from plunder⯑ing; and inveterate practice rendered them equal⯑ly licentious in peace and in war. Charles, to leave no pretext for free quarters, laid upon his [9] ſubjects a ſmall tax, ſufficient for regular pay to his little army^*.

Firſt attempts are commonly crude and defec⯑tive. The franc-archers, diſperſed one by one in different villages, and never collected but in time of action, could not eaſily be brought under re⯑gular diſcipline. They were idle when not in the field; and in the field, they diſplayed nothing but vicious habits, a ſpirit of lazineſs, of diſorder, and of pilfering. Neither in peace were they of any uſe: their character of ſoldier made them deſpiſe agriculture, without being qualified for war: in the army they were no better than peaſ⯑ants: at the plough, no better than idle ſoldiers. But in the hands of a monarch, a ſtanding army is an inſtrument of power, too valuable ever to be abandoned: if one ſovereign entertain ſuch an army, others in ſelf-defence muſt follow the ex⯑ample. Standing armies are now eſtabliſhed in every European ſtate, and are brought to a com⯑petent degree of perfection.

This new inſtrument of government, has pro⯑duced a wonderful change in manners. We now [10] rely on a ſtanding army, for defence as well as offence: none but thoſe who are trained to war, ever think of handling arms, or even of defending themſelves againſt an enemy: our people in ge⯑neral have become altogether effeminate, terrifi⯑ed at the very ſight of a hoſtile weapon. It is true, they are not the leſs qualified for the arts of peace; and if manufacturers be protected from being obliged to ſerve in the army, I diſcover not any incompatibility between a ſtanding army and the higheſt induſtry. Huſbandmen at the ſame time make the beſt ſoldiers: a military ſpirit in the lower claſſes ariſes from bodily ſtrength, and from affection to their natal ſoil: both are emi⯑nent in the huſbandman: conſtant exerciſe in the open air renders him hardy and robuſt; and fond⯑neſs for the place where he finds comfort and plenty, attaches him to his country in general^*. An artiſt or manufacturer, on the contrary, is [11] attached to no country but where he finds the beſt bread; and a ſedentary life, enervating his body, renders him puſillanimous. For theſe reaſons, among many, agriculture ought to be honoured and cheriſhed above all other arts. It is not only a fine preparation for war, by breeding men who love their country, and whom labour and ſobriety fit for being ſoldiers; but is alſo the beſt founda⯑tion for commerce, by furniſhing both food and materials to the induſtrious.

But ſeveral objections of the moſt intereſting nature occur againſt a ſtanding army, that call aloud for a better model than has hitherto been e⯑ſtabliſhed, at leaſt in Britain. The ſubject is of importance, and I hope for attention from every man who loves his country. During the vigour of the feudal ſyſtem, which made every land-proprietor a ſoldier, every inch of ground was te⯑naciouſly diſputed with an invader: and while a ſovereign retained any part of his dominions, he never loſt hopes of recovering the whole. At preſent, we rely entirely on a ſtanding army, for defence as well as offence, which has reduced e⯑very nation of Europe to a very precarious con⯑dition. If the army of a ſtate happen to be de⯑feated, [12] even at the moſt diſtant frontier, there is little reſource againſt a total conqueſt. Compare the hiſtory of Charles VII. with that of Lewis XIV. Kings of France. The former, tho' dri⯑ven into a corner by Henry V. of England, and deprived of the bulk of his provinces, was howe⯑ver far from yielding: on the contrary, relying on the military ſpirit of his people, and indefati⯑gably intent on ſtratagem and ſurpriſe, he reco⯑vered all he had loſt. When Lewis XIV. ſuc⯑ceeded to the crown, the military ſpirit of the people, was contracted within the narrow ſpan of a ſtanding army. Behold the conſequence. That ambitious monarch, having provoked his neighbours into an alliance againſt him, had no reſource againſt a more-numerous army, but to purchaſe peace by offering to abandon all his con⯑queſts, upon which he had laviſhed much blood and treaſure^a. France at that period contain⯑ed ſeveral millions capable of bearing arms; and yet was not in a condition to make head againſt a diſciplined army of 70,000 men. Poland, which continues upon the ancient military eſta⯑bliſhment, wearied out Charles XII. of Sweden, and had done the ſame to ſeveral of his predeceſ⯑ſors. But Saxony, defended only by a ſtanding army, could not hold out a ſingle day againſt the prince now mentioned, at the head of a greater army. Mercenary troops are a defence ſtill more feeble, againſt troops that fight for glory, or for their country. Unhappy was the invention of a ſtanding army; which, without being any ſtrong bulwark againſt enemies, is a grievous burthen on the people; and turns daily more and more ſo. Liſten to a firſt-rate author on that point. ‘"Sitot qu' un etat augmente ce qu' il appelle ſes [13] troupes, les autres augmentent les leurs; de façon qu'on ne gagne rien par̄la que la ruine commune. Chaque monarque tient ſur pied toutes les armées qu'il pourroit avoir ſi ſes peuples étoient en danger d'être exterminées; et on nomme paix cet état d'effort de tous contre tous. Nous ſommes pauvres avec les richeſſes et le commerce de tout l'univers; et bientôt à force d'avoir des ſoldats, nous n'au⯑rons plus que des ſoldats, et nous ſerons com⯑me de Tartares^{* b}."’

But with reſpect to Britain, and every free nation, there is an objection ſtill more formida⯑ble; which is, that a ſtanding army is dangerous to liberty. It avails very little to be ſecure againſt foreign enemies, ſuppoſing a ſtanding army to af⯑ford ſecurity, if we have no ſecurity againſt an enemy at home. If a warlike king, heading his own troops, be ambitious to render himſelf abſo⯑lute, there are no means to invade the impending blow; for what avail the greateſt number of effe⯑minate cowards againſt a diſciplined army, de⯑voted to their prince, and ready implicitly to ex⯑ecute his commands? In a word, by relying en⯑tirely on a ſtanding army, and by truſting the [14] ſword in the hands of men who abhor the re⯑ſtraint of civil laws, a ſolid foundation is laid for military government. Thus a ſtanding army is dangerous to liberty, and yet no ſufficient bul⯑wark againſt powerful neighbours.

Deeply ſenſible of the foregoing objections, Harrington propoſes a plan for a militia, which he holds to be unexceptionable. Every male be⯑tween eighteen and thirty, is to be trained to mi⯑litary exerciſes, by frequent meetings, where the youth are excited by premiums to contend in running, wreſtling, ſhooting at a mark, &c. &c. But Harrington did not advert, that ſuch meet⯑ings, enflaming the military ſpirit, muſt create an averſion in the people to dull and fatiguing la⯑bour. His plan evidently is inconſiſtent with in⯑duſtry and manufactures: it would be ſo at leaſt in Britain. A moſt ſucceſsful, plan it would be, were defence our ſole object; and not the leſs ſucceſsful, by rendering Britain ſo poor as ſcarce to be a tempting conqueſt. Our late war with France is a conſpicuous inſtance of the power that can be exerted by a commercial ſtate, entire in its credit; a power that amaz'd all the world, and ourſelves no leſs than others. Politicians be⯑gin to conſider Britain, and not France, to be the formidable power that threatens univerſal monar⯑chy. Had Harrington's plan been adopted, Bri⯑tain, like Sweden or Denmark, muſt have been contented with an inferior ſtation, having no am⯑bition but to draw ſubſidies from its more potent neighbours.

In Switzerland, it is true, boys are, from the age of twelve, exerciſed in running, wreſtling, and ſhooting. Every male who can bear arms is regimented, and ſubjected to military diſcipline. Here is a militia in perfection upon Harrington's plan, a militia neither forced nor mercenary; in⯑vincible [15] when fighting for their country: and as the Swiſs are by no means an idle people, we learn from this inſtance, that the martial ſpirit is not an invincible obſtruction to induſtry. But the original barrenneſs of Switzerland, compel⯑led the inhabitants to be ſober and induſtrious: and induſtry hath among them become a ſecond nature, there ſcarcely being a child above ſix years of age but who is employed, not excepting children of opulent families. England differs widely in the nature of its ſoil, and of its peo⯑ple. At the ſame time, there is little occaſion to inſiſt upon that difference; as Switzerland af⯑fords no clear evidence, that a militia gives no obſtruction to a ſpirit of induſtry: the Swiſs, it is true, may be termed induſtrious; but their in⯑duſtry is confined to neceſſaries and convenien⯑cies: they are leſs ambitious of wealth than of military glory; and they have few arts or ma⯑nufactures, either to ſupport foreign commerce, or to excite luxury.

Fletcher of Salton's plan of a militia, differs little from that of Harrington. Three camps are to be conſtantly kept up in England, and a fourth in Scotland; into one or other of which, every man muſt enter upon compleating his one and twentieth year. In theſe camps the art of war is to be acquired and practiſed: thoſe who can maintain themſelves muſt continue there two years, others but a ſingle year. Secondly, thoſe who have been thus educated, ſhall for ever after have fifty yearly meetings, and ſhall exerciſe four hours every meeting. It is not ſaid, by what means young men are compelled to reſort to the camp; nor is any exception mentioned of perſons deſtined for the church, for liberal ſci⯑ences, or for the fine arts. The weak and the ſickly muſt be exempted; and yet no regulation [16] is propoſed againſt thoſe who abſent themſelves on a falſe pretext. But waving theſe, the capi⯑tal objection againſt Harrington's plan ſtrikes equally againſt Fletcher's, That by rouſing a mi⯑litary ſpirit, it would alienate the minds of the people from arts and manufactures, and from any conſtant and uniform occupation. The author himſelf remarks, that the uſe and exerciſe of arms, would make the youth place their honour upon that art, and would enflame them with love of military glory; not adverting, that love of military glory, diffuſed through the whole maſs of the people, would unqualify Britain for being a manufacturing and commercial country, rendering it of little weight or conſideration in Europe.

The military branch is eſſential to every ſpe⯑cies of government: the Quakers are the only people who ever doubted of it. Is it not then mor⯑tifying, that a capital branch of government, ſhould to this day remain in a ſtate ſo imperfect? One would ſuſpect ſome inherent vice in the na⯑ture of government, that counteracts every effort of genius to produce a more perfect mode. I am not diſpoſed to admit any defect of Providence, eſpecially in an article eſſential to the well-being of ſociety; and rather than yield to the charge, I venture to propoſe the following plan, even at the hazard of being thought an idle projector. And what animates me greatly to make the at⯑tempt is, a firm conviction, that a military and an induſtrious ſpirit are of equal importance to Britain; and that if either of them be loſt, we are undone. To reconcile theſe ſeeming anta⯑goniſts, is my chief view in the following plan; to which I ſhall proceed, after paving the way by ſome preliminary conſiderations.

[17] The firſt is, that as military force is eſſential to every ſtate, no man is exempted from bearing arms for his country: all are bound; becauſe none can be bound, if every one be not bound. Were any difference to be made, perſons of fi⯑gure and fortune ought firſt to be called to that ſervice, as being the moſt intereſted in the wel⯑fare of their country. Liſten to a good ſoldier delivering his opinion on that ſubject. ‘"Les levées qui ſe font par ſupercherie font tout auſſi odieuſes; on met de l'argent dans la po⯑chette d'un homme, et on lui dit qu'il eſt ſol⯑dat. Celles qui ſe font par force, le font en⯑core plus; c'eſt une deſolation publique, dont le bourgeois et l'habitant ne ſe ſauvent qu'a force d'argent, et dont le fond eſt toujours un moyen odieux. Ne voudroit-il pas mieux établer, par une loi, que tout homme, de quelque condition qu'il fût, ſeroit obligé de ſervir ſon prince et ſa patrie pendant cinq ans? Cette loi ne ſçauroit être deſapprovée, parce qu'il eſt naturel et juſte que les citoyens s'em⯑ploient pour la défenſe de l'état. Cette me⯑thode de lever des troupes ſeroit un fond in⯑épuiſable de belles et bonnes recrues, qui ne ſeroient pas ſujetes a déſerter. L'on ſe feroit même, par la ſuite, un honneur et un devoir de ſerver ſa tâche. Mais, pour y parvenir, il faudroit n'en excepter aucune condition, être ſévére ſur ce point, et s'attacher a faire exé⯑cuter cette loi de préférence aux nobles et aux riches. Perſonne n'en murmureroit. Alors ceux qui auroient ſervi leur temps, verroient avec mépris ceux qui repugneroient à cette loi, et inſenſiblement on ſe feroit un honneur de ſervir: le pauvre bourgeois ſeroit conſolé par [18] l'exemple du riche; et celui-ci n'oſeroit ſe plaindre, voyant ſervir le noble^{a *}."’

Take another preliminary conſideration. While there remained any portion of our original mar⯑tial ſpirit, the difficulty was not great of recruit⯑ing the army. But that taſk hath of late years become extremely troubleſome; and more diſa⯑greeable [19] ſtill than troubleſome, by the neceſſity of uſing deceitful arts for trepanning the unwary youth. Nor are ſuch arts always ſucceſsful: in our late war with France, we were neceſſitated to give up even the appearance of voluntary ſer⯑vice, and to recruit the army on the ſolid princi⯑ple of obliging every man to fight for his country: the juſtices of peace were empowered by the le⯑giſlature, to force into the ſervice ſuch as could be beſt ſpared from civil occupation. If a ſingle clauſe had been added, limiting the ſervice to five or ſeven years, the meaſure would have been unexceptionable, even in a land of liberty. To relieve officers of the army from practiſing de⯑ceitful arts for recruiting their corps, by ſubſti⯑tuting a fair and conſtitutional mode, was a valua⯑ble improvement. It was of importance with re⯑ſpect to its direct intendment; but of much greater with reſpect to its conſequences. One of the few diſadvantages of a free ſtate, is licenti⯑ouſneſs in the common people, who may wallow in diſorder and profligacy without control, if they be but cautious to refrain from groſs crimes, pu⯑niſhable by law. Now, as it appears to me, there never has been deviſed a method more ef⯑ficacious for reſtoring induſtry and ſobriety, than that under conſideration. Its ſalutary effects were conſpicuous, even during the ſhort time it ſub⯑ſiſted. The dread of being forced into the ſer⯑vice, rendered the populace peaceable and order⯑ly: it did more; it rendered them induſtrious in order to conciliate favour. The moſt beneficial diſcoveries have been accidental: without having any view but for recruiting the army, our legi⯑ſlature ſtumbled upon an excellent method for re⯑claiming the idle and the profligate; a matter, in the preſent depravity of manners, of greater importance than any other that concerns the po⯑lice [20] of Britain. A perpetual law of that kind, by promoting induſtry, would prove a ſovereign remedy againſt mobs and riots, diſeaſes of a free country, full of people and of manufactures^*. Why were the foregoing ſtatutes, for there were two of them, limited to a temporary exiſtence? There is not on record another ſtatute better in⯑titled to immortality.

And now to the project, which, after all my efforts, I produce with trepidation; not that I doubt of its ſolidity, but as ill ſuited to the pre⯑ſent manners of this iſland. To hope that it will be put in practice, would indeed be highly ridi⯑culous: this can never happen, till patriotiſm flouriſh more in Britain than it has done for ſome time paſt. Suppoſing now an army of 60,000 men to be ſufficient for Britain, a rational me⯑thod for raiſing ſuch an army, were there no ſtanding forces, would be, that land-proprietors, in proportion to their valued rents, ſhould fur⯑niſh men to ſerve ſeven years, and no longer^§. But as it would be no leſs unjuſt than imprudent, to diſband at once our preſent army, the ſoft and natural way is, to begin with moulding gra⯑dually [21] the old army into the new, by filling up vacancies with men bound to ſerve ſeven years and no longer. And for raiſing proper men, a matter of much delicacy, it is propoſed, that in every ſhire a ſpecial commiſſion be given to cer⯑tain landholders of rank and figure, to raiſe re⯑cruits out of the lower claſſes, ſelecting always thoſe who are the leaſt uſeful at home.

Second. Thoſe who claim to be diſmiſſed af⯑ter ſerving the appointed time, ſhall never again be called to the ſervice, except in caſe of an ac⯑tual invaſion. Every one of them ſhall be in⯑titled to a premium of eight or ten pounds, for enabling him to follow a trade or calling, with⯑out being ſubjected to corporation laws. The private men in France are inliſted but for ſix years; and that mode has never been attended with any inconvenience.

Third. With reſpect to the private men, idleneſs muſt be totally and for ever baniſhed. Suppoſing three months yearly to be ſufficient for military diſcipline, the men, during the reſt of the year, ought to be employed upon public works, forming roads, erecting bridges, making rivers navigable, clearing harbours, &c. &c. Why not alſo furniſh men for half pay to private undertakers of uſeful works? And ſuppoſing the daily pay of a ſoldier to be ten pence, it would greatly encourage extenſive improvements, to have at command a number of ſtout fellows, un⯑der ſtrict diſcipline, at the low wages of five pence a-day. An army of 60,000 men thus em⯑ployed, would not be ſo expenſive to the public, as 20,000 men upon the preſent eſtabliſhment: for beſide the money contributed by private un⯑dertakers, public works carried on by ſoldiers, [22] will be miſerably ill contrived, if not cheaply purchaſed with their pay^*.

The moſt important branch of the project, is what regards the officers. The neceſſity of re⯑viving in our people of rank ſome portion of mi⯑litary ſpirit, will be acknowledged by every perſon of reflection; and in that view, the following articles are propoſed. Firſt: That there be two claſſes of officers, one ſerving for pay, one with⯑out pay. In filling up every vacant office of cor⯑net or enſign, the latter are to be preferred; but in progreſſive advancement, no diſtinction is to be made between the claſſes. An officer who has ſerved ſeven years without pay, may retire with honour.

Second. No man ſhall be privileged to repre⯑ſent a county in parliament, who has not ſerved ſeven years without pay; and, excepting an ac⯑tual burgeſs, none but thoſe who have perform⯑ed that ſervice, ſhall be privileged to repreſent a borough. The ſame qualification ſhall be ne⯑ceſſary to every one who aſpires to ſerve the public or the King in an office of dignity, ex⯑cepting only churchmen and lawyers, with regard to offices in their reſpective profeſſions. In old Rome, none were admitted candidates for any civil employment, till they had ſerved ten years in the army.

Third. Officers of this claſs are to be exempt⯑ed from the taxes impoſed on land, coaches, win⯑dows, and plate; not for ſaving a trifling ſum, but as a mark of diſtinction.

[23] The military ſpirit muſt in Britain be miſer⯑ably low, if ſuch regulations prove not effectual to decorate the army with officers of figure and fortune. Nor need we to apprehend any bad con⯑ſequence, from a number of raw officers who ſerve without pay: among men of birth, emula⯑tion will have a more commanding influence than pay or profit; and at any rate, there will always be a ſufficiency of old experienced officers re⯑ceiving pay, ready to take the lead in every dif⯑ficult enterprize.

Fourth. To improve this army in military diſcipline, it is propoſed, that when occaſion of⯑fers, 5 or 6000 of them be maintained by Great Britain, as auxiliaries to ſome ally at war. And if that body be changed from time to time, knowledge and practice in war will be diffuſed through the whole army.

Officers who ſerve for pay, will be greatly be⯑nefited by this plan: frequent removes of thoſe who ſerve without pay, make way for them; and from the very nature of the plan, buying and ſelling is abſolutely excluded.

I proceed to the alterations neceſſary for ac⯑commodating this plan to our preſent military eſtabliſhment. As a total revolution at one in⯑ſtant would breed confuſion, the firſt ſtep ought to be a ſpecimen only, ſuch as the levying two or three regiments on the new model; the ex⯑pence of which ought not to be grudged, as the forces preſently in pay, are not ſufficient, even in peace, to anſwer the ordinary demands of go⯑vernment. And as the proſpect of civil employ⯑ments, will excite more men of rank to offer their ſervice than there is room for, the choice muſt be in the crown, not only with reſpect to the new regiments, but with reſpect to the vacant cornet⯑cies and enſigncies in the old army. But as theſe [24] regulations will not inſtantly produce men qualified to be ſecretaries of ſtate or commiſſioners of treaſury, ſo numerous as to afford his majeſty a ſatisfactory choice, that branch of the plan may be ſuſpended, till thoſe who have ſerved ſeven years without pay, amount to one hundred at leaſt. The article that concerns members of par⯑liament muſt be ſtill longer ſuſpended: it may however, after the firſt ſeven years, receive ex⯑ecution in part, by privileging thoſe who have received no pay to repreſent a borough, refuſing that privilege to others, except to actual burgeſ⯑ſes. We may proceed one ſtep farther, That if in a county there be five gentlemen who have the qualification under conſideration, over and above the ordinary legal qualifications, one of the five muſt be choſen, leaving the electors free as to their other repreſentative.

With reſpect to the private men of the old army, a thouſand of ſuch as have ſerved the longeſt may be diſbanded annually, if ſo many be willing to retire; and in their ſtead an equal num⯑ber may be inliſted, to ſerve but ſeven years. Upon ſuch a plan, it will not be difficult to find recruits.

The advantage of this plan, in one particular, is eminent. It will infallibly fill the army with gallant officers: Other advantages concerning the officers themſelves, ſhall be mentioned afterward. An appetite for military glory cannot fail to be rouſed in officers who ſerve without pay, when their ſervice is the only paſſport to employments of truſt and honour. And may we not hope, that officers who ſerve for pay, will, by force of imi⯑tation, be inſpired with the ſame appetite? No⯑thing ought to be more ſedulouſly inculcated into every officer, than to deſpiſe riches, as a mercan⯑tile object, below the dignity of a ſoldier. Often [25] has the courage of victorious troops been blunted by the pillage of an opulent city; and may not rich captures at ſea have the ſame effect? Some ſea-commanders have been ſuſpected, of beſtow⯑ing their fire more willingly upon a merchantman, than upon a ſhip of war. A triumph, an ovation, a civic crown, or ſome ſuch mark of honour, were in old Rome the only rewards for military atchievements^*. Money, it is true, was ſometimes diſtributed among the private men, as an addition to their pay, after a fatiguing campaign; but not as a recompence for their good behaviour, be⯑cauſe all ſhared alike. It did not eſcape the pe⯑netrating Romans, that wealth, the parent of lux⯑ury and ſelfiſhneſs, fails not to eradicate the mi⯑litary ſpirit. The ſoldier who to recover his bag⯑gage performed a bold action, gave an inſtructive leſſon to all governments. Being invited by his general to try his fortune a ſecond time; Invite, ſays the ſoldier, one who has loſt his baggage. Many a bold adventurer goes to the Indies, who, returning with a fortune, is afraid of every breeze. Britain, I ſuſpect, is too much infected with the ſpirit of gain. Will it be thought ridiculous in [26] any man of figure, to prefer reputation and re⯑ſpect before riches; provided only he can afford a frugal meal, and a warm garment? Let us compare an old officer, who never deſerted his friend nor his country, and a wealthy merchant, who never indulged a thought but of gain: the wealth is tempting;—and yet does there exiſt a man of ſpirit, who would not be the officer rather than the merchant, even with his millions? Sultan Mechmet granted to the Janiſaries a pri⯑vilege of importing foreign commodities free of duty: was it his intention to metamorphoſe ſol⯑diers into merchants, loving peace, and hating war?

But though I declare againſt large appointments beforehand, which, inſtead of promoting ſervice, are a temptation to luxury and idleneſs; yet to an officer of character, who has ſpent his younger years in ſerving his king and country, a govern⯑ment, or other ſuitable employment that enables him to paſs the remainder of his life in eaſe and affluence, is a proper reward for merit, reflecting equal honour on the prince who beſtows, and on the ſubject who receives; beſide affording an enlivening proſpect to others, who have it at heart to do well.

With reſpect to the private men, the rotation propoſed, aims at improvements far more impor⯑tant, than that of making military ſervice fall light upon individuals. It tends to unite the ſpirit of induſtry with that of war, and to form the ſame man to be an induſtrious labourer, as well as a good ſoldier. The continual exerciſe recom⯑mended, cannot fail to produce a ſpirit of induſ⯑try; which will occaſion a demand for the private men after their ſeven years ſervice, as valuable above all other labourers, not only for regularity, but for activity. And with reſpect to ſervice in [27] war, conſtant exerciſe is the life of an army, in the literal as well as metaphorical ſenſe. Boldneſs is inſpired by ſtrength and agility, to which con⯑ſtant motion mainly contributes. The Roman citizens, trained to arms from their infancy, and never allowed to reſt, were invincible. To men⯑tion no other works, ſpacious and durable roads carried to the very extremities of that vaſt em⯑pire, ſhow clearly how the ſoldiers were employ⯑ed during peace; which hardened them for war, and made them orderly and ſubmiſſive^a. So eſſential was labour held by the Romans for training an army, that they never ventured to face an enemy, with troops debilitated in any degree by idleneſs. The Roman army in Spain, having been worſted in ſeveral engagements, and confin⯑ed within their entrenchments, were ſunk in idleneſs and luxury. Scipio Naſica, after demo⯑liſhing Carthage, taking the command of that army, durſt not oppoſe it to the enemy, till he accuſtomed the ſoldiers to temperance and hard labour. He exerciſed them without relaxation in marching and countermarching, in fortifying camps and demoliſhing them, in digging trenches and filling them up, in building high walls and pul⯑ling them down; he himſelf, from morning to night, going about, and directing every operation. Marius, before engaging the Cimbri, exerciſed his army in turning the courſe of a river. Ap⯑pian relates, that Antiochus, during his winter⯑quarters at Calchis, having married a beautiful virgin, with whom he was greatly enamoured, ſpent the whole winter in pleaſure, abandoning his army to vice and idleneſs: and when the time [28] of action returned with the ſpring, he found his ſoldiers unfit for ſervice. The idleneſs of our ſoldiers in time of peace, promoting debauchery and licentiouſneſs, is no leſs deſtructive to health than to diſcipline. Unable for the fatigues of a firſt campaign, our private men die in thouſands, as if ſmote with a peſtilence^*. We never read of any mortality in the Roman legions, though frequently engaged in climates very different from their own. Let us liſten to a judicious writer, to whom every one liſtens with delight: ‘"Nous remarquons aujourd'hui, que nos ar⯑mées périſſent beaucoup par le travail immodé⯑ré des ſoldats; et cependant c'étoit par un tra⯑vail immenſe que les Romains ſe conſervoient. La raiſon en eſt, je croix, que leurs fatigues étoient continuelles; au lieu que nos ſoldats paſſent fans ceſſe d'un travail extreme à une extreme oiſivété, ce qui eſt la choſe du monde la plus propre à les faire perir. Il faut que je rapporte ici ce que les auteurs nous diſent de l'education de ſoldats Romains. On les ac⯑coutumoit [29] à aller le pas militaire, c' eſt-a-dire, à fair en cinq heures vingt milles, et quelque⯑fois vingt-quatre. Pendant ces marches, on leur faiſoit porter de poids de ſoixante livres. On les entretenoit dans l'habitude de courir et de ſauter tout armés; ils prenoient dans leurs exercices des epées, de javelots, de ſlêches, d'une péſanteur double des armes ordinaires; et ces exercices étoient continuels. Des hom⯑mes ſi endurcis étoient ordinairement ſains; on ne remarque pas dans les auteurs que les ar⯑mées Romaines, qui faiſoient la guerre en tant de climats, periſſoient beaucoup par les mala⯑dies; au lieu qu'il arrive preſque continuelle⯑ment aujourd'hui, que des armées, ſans avoir combattu, ſe fondent, pour ainſi dire, dans une campagne^{* a}."’ Mareſchal Saxe, a ſoldier, [30] not a phyſician, aſcribes to the uſe of vinegar the healthineſs of the Roman legions: were vinegar ſo potent, it would of all liquors be the moſt in requeſt. Exerciſe without intermiſſion, during peace as well as during war, produced the ſalutary effect; which every prince will find, who is diſ⯑poſed to copy the Roman diſcipline^*. The Ma⯑reſchal gueſſes better with reſpect to a horſe. Diſcourſing of cavalry, he obſerves, that a horſe becomes hardy and healthful by conſtant exerciſe, and that a young horſe is unable to bear fatigue; for which reaſon he declares againſt young horſes for the ſervice of an army.

That the military branch of the Britiſh govern⯑ment is ſuſceptible of improvements, all the world [31] will admit. To improve it, I have contributed my mite; which is humbly ſubmitted to the public, a judge from whom there lies no appeal. It is ſubmitted in three views. The firſt is, Whether an army, modelled as above, would not ſecure us againſt the boldeſt invader; the next, Whether ſuch an army be as dangerous to liberty, as an army in its preſent form; and the laſt, Whether it would not be a ſchool of induſtry and moderation to our people.

With reſpect to the firſt, we ſhould, after a few years, have not only an army of ſixty-thou⯑ſand well-diſciplined troops, but the command of another army, equally numerous, and equally well diſciplined. It is true, that troops inured to war have an advantage over troops that have not the ſame experience: but with aſſurance it may be pronounced impracticable, to land at once in Britain an army that can ſtand againſt 100,000 Britiſh ſoldiers well diſciplined, fighting even their firſt battle, for their country, and for their wives and children.

A war with France raiſes a panic on every ſlight threatening of an invaſion. The ſecurity afforded by a propoſed plan, would enable us to act offenſively at ſea, inſtead of being reduced to keep our ſhips at home, for guarding our coaſts. Would Britain any longer be obliged to ſupport her continental connections? No ſooner does an European prince augment his army, or improve military diſcipline, than his neighbours, taking fright, muſt do the ſame. May not one hope, that by the plan propoſed, or ſome ſuch, Britain would be relieved from jealouſy and ſolicitude a⯑bout its neighbours?

With reſpect to the ſecond view, having long enjoyed the ſweets of a free government, under a ſucceſſion of mild princes, we begin to forget, [32] that our liberties ever were in danger. But drou⯑ſy ſecurity is of all conditions the moſt dangerous; becauſe the ſtate may be overwhelmed before we even dream of danger. Suppoſe only, that a Bri⯑tiſh King, accompliſhed in the art of war, and beloved by his ſoldiers, heads his own troops in a war with France; and after more than one ſuc⯑ceſsful campaign, gives peace to his enemy, on terms advantageous to his people: what ſecurity have we for our liberties, when he returns with a victorious army, devoted to his will? I am talk⯑ing of a ſtanding army in its preſent form. Troops modelled as above will not be ſo obſequi⯑ous: a number of the prime nobility and gentry ſerving without pay, who can be under no tempta⯑tion to enſlave themſelves and their country, will prove a firm barrier againſt the ambitious views of ſuch a prince. And even ſuppoſing that army to be totally corrupted, the prince can have little hope of ſucceſs againſt the nation ſupported by a⯑nother army, compoſed of men, who, having completed their military ſervice, may be relied on as champions for their country.

And as to the laſt view mentioned, the plan propoſed cannot fail to promote induſtry and vir⯑tue, not only among the ſoldiers, but among the working people in general. To avoid hard la⯑bour and ſevere diſcipline in the army, men will be ſober and induſtrious at home; and ſuch un⯑tractable ſpirits as cannot be reached by the mild laws of a free government, will be effectually tamed by military law. At the ſame time, as ſo⯑briety and innocence are conſtant attendants upon induſtry, the manners of our people would be much purified; a circumſtance of infinite impor⯑tance to Britain. The ſalutary influence of the plan would reach perſons in a high ſphere. A young gentleman, whipt at ſchool, or falling be⯑hind [33] at college, contracts an averſion to books; and flies to the army, where he is kept in coun⯑tenance by numbers, idle and ignorant like him⯑ſelf. How many young men are thus daily ruin⯑ed, who, but for the temptation of idleneſs and gaiety in the army, would have become uſeful ſubjects! In the plan under conſideration, the officers who ſerve for pay would be ſo few in number, and their proſpect of advancement ſo clear, that it would require much intereſt to be admitted into the army. None would be admit⯑ted but thoſe who had been regularly educated in every branch of military knowledge; and idle boys would be remitted to their ſtudies.

Here is diſplayed an agreeable ſcene with rela⯑tion to induſtry. Suppoſing the whole threeſcore thouſand men to be abſolutely idle; yet, by dou⯑bling the induſtry of thoſe who remain, I affirm, that the ſum of induſtry would be much greater than before. And the ſcene becomes enchanting, when we conſider, that theſe threeſcore thouſand men, would not only be of all the moſt induſtri⯑ous, but be patterns of induſtry to others.

Upon concluſion of a foreign war, we ſuffer grievouſly by diſbanded ſoldiers, who muſt plun⯑der or ſtarve. The preſent plan is an effectual remedy: men accuſtomed to hard labour under ſtrict diſcipline, can never be in want of bread: they will be ſought for every where, even at higher than ordinary wages; and they will prove excellent maſters for training the pleaſants to hard labour.

A man indulges emulation more freely in be⯑half of his friends or his country, than of himſelf: the latter is ſelfiſh; the former proceeds from a ſocial principle. In that view, have we not rea⯑ſon to hope, that the ſeparating military officers into different claſſes, will excite a laudable emu⯑lation, [34] prompting individuals to exert themſelves on every occaſion, for the honour of their corps? Nor will ſuch emulation, a virtuous paſſion, be any obſtruction to private friendſhip between members of different claſſes. On the contrary, may it not be expected, that young officers of birth and fortune, zealous to qualify themſelves, at their own expence, for ſerving their country, will cling for inſtruction to officers of experience, who have no inheritance but perſonal merit? Both find their account in that connection: men of rank become adepts in military affairs, a valua⯑ble branch of education for them; and officers who ſerve for pay, acquire friends at court, who will embrace every opportunity of teſtifying their gratitude.

The advantages mentioned are great and ex⯑tenſive; and yet are not the only advantages. Will it be thought extravagant to hope, that the propoſed plan would form a better ſyſtem of edu⯑cation for young men of fortune, than hitherto has been known in Britain? Before pronouncing ſentence againſt me let the following conſidera⯑tions be duly weighed. Our youth go abroad to ſee the world in the literal ſenſe; for to pierce deeper than eye-ſight, cannot be expected of boys. They reſort to gay courts, where they find nothing for imitation but pomp, luxury, diſſembled virtues, and real vices: ſuch ſcenes make a deep impreſſion on young men of a warm imagination. Our plan would be an antidote to ſuch poiſonous education. Suppoſing eighteen to be the earlieſt time for the army, here is an ob⯑ject held up to our youth of fortune, for rouſing their ambition: they will endeavour to make a figure, and emulation will animate them to excel: ſuppoſing a young man to have no ambition, ſhame alone will puſh him on. To acquire the [35] military art, to diſcipline their men, to direct the execution of public works, and to conduct other military operations, would occupy their whole time, and baniſh idleneſs. A young gentleman, thus guarded againſt the inticing vices and ſaun⯑tering follies of youth, muſt be ſadly deficient in genius, if, during his ſeven years ſervice, reading and reflection have been totally neglected by him. Hoping better things from our youth of fortune, I take for granted, that during their ſervice they have made ſome progreſs, not only in military knowledge, but in morals, and in the fine arts, ſo as at the age of twenty-five to be qualified for profiting, inſtead of being undone, by ſeeing the world^*.

Further, young men of birth and fortune, ac⯑quire indeed the ſmoothneſs and ſuppleneſs of a court, with reſpect to their ſuperiors; but the conſtraint of ſuch manners, makes their temper break out againſt inferiors, where there is no conſtraint. Inſolence of rank is not ſo viſible in Britain, as in countries of leſs freedom; but it is ſufficiently viſible to require correction. To that end, no method promiſes more ſucceſs than mili⯑tary ſervice; as command and obedience alter⯑nately, are the beſt diſcipline for acquiring tem⯑per and moderation. Can pride and inſolence be [36] more effectually ſtemmed, than to be command⯑ed by an inferior?

Still upon the important article of education. Where pleaſure is the ruling paſſion in youth, intereſt will be the ruling paſſion in age: the ſelf⯑iſh principle is the foundation of both, the object only is varied. This obſervation is ſadly verified in Britain: our young men of rank, loathing an irkſome and fatiguing courſe of education, aban⯑don themſelves to pleaſure. Trace theſe very men through the more ſedate part of life, and they will be found graſping at power and profit, by means of court-favour, with no regard to their country, and with very little regard to their friends. The education propoſed, holding up a tempting prize to virtuous ambition, is an excel⯑lent fence againſt a life of indolent pleaſure. A youth of fortune, engaged with many rivals in a train of public ſervice, acquires a habit of buſi⯑neſs; and as he is conſtantly employed for the public, patriotiſm becomes his ruling paſſion^*.

[37] The advantages of a military education, ſuch as that propoſed, are not yet exhauſted: one of conſiderable importance remains to be unfolded. Under regular government promoting the arts of peace, ſocial intercourſe refines, and fondneſs for company increaſes in proportion. And hence it is, that the capital is crouded with every perſon who can afford to live there. A man of fortune, who has no taſte but for a city life, happens to be forced into the country by buſineſs: finding buſineſs and the country equally inſipid, he be⯑comes impatient, and returns to town, with a diſguſt at every rural amuſement. In-France, the country has been long deſerted: ſuch fond⯑neſs for ſociety prevails there, that ſeldom has the King occaſion to inflict a greater puniſhment on a man of faſhion, than to baniſh him to his coun⯑try-ſeat. In Britain the ſame fondneſs for a town-life is gaining ground daily. A ſtranger conſidering the immenſe ſums expended in En⯑gland upon country-ſeats, would conclude in ap⯑pearance with great certainty, that the Engliſh ſpend moſt of their time in the country. But how would it ſurpriſe him to be told, not only that people of faſhion in England paſs little of their time in the country, but that the immenſe ſums laid out upon gardening and pleaſure⯑grounds, are the effect of vanity more than of taſte! In fact, ſuch embelliſhments are begin⯑ning to wear out of faſhion; appetite for ſociety leaving neither time nor inclination for rural plea⯑ſures. If the progreſs of that diſeaſe can be ſtayed, the only means is military education. In youth laſting impreſſions are made; and men of fortune who take to the army, being confined moſtly to the country in prime of life, contract a liking for country occupations and amuſements; which withdraw them from the capital, and con⯑tribute [38] to the health of the mind, no leſs than of the body.

A military education would contribute equally to moderation in ſocial enjoyments. The pomp, ceremony, and expence, neceſſary to thoſe who adhere to a court, and live always in public, are not a little fatiguing and oppreſſive. Man is na⯑turally moderate in his deſire of enjoyment; and it requires much practice to make him bear exceſs, without ſatiety and diſguſt. The pain of exceſs, prompts men of opulence to paſs ſome part of their time in a ſnug retirement, where they live at eaſe, free from pomp and ceremony. Here is a retirement, which can be reached without any painful circuit; a port of ſafety and of peace, to which we are piloted by military education, avoiding every dangerous rock, and every fati⯑guing agitation.

Reflecting on the advantages of military educa⯑tion above diſplayed, is it fooliſh to think, that our plan might produce a total alteration of man⯑ners in our youth of birth and fortune? The idlers, the gameſters, the profligate, compared with our military men, would make a deſpicable figure: ſhame, not to talk of pride, would compel them to reform.

How conducive to good government might the propoſed plan be, in the hands of a virtuous king, ſupported by a public-ſpirited miniſtry! In the preſent courſe of advancement, a youth of qua⯑lity who aſpires to ſerve his country in a civil em⯑ployment, has nothing to rely on but parliamenta⯑ry intereſt. The military education propoſed, would afford him opportunity to improve his ta⯑lents, and to convince the world of his merit. Honour and applauſe thus acquired, would intitle him to demand preferment; and he ought to be employed, not only as deſerving, but as an en⯑neglecting [39] couragement to others. Frequent inſtances of neglecting men who are patronized by the public, might perhaps prove dangerous to a Britiſh mini⯑ſter.

If I have not all this while been dreaming, here are diſplayed illuſtrious advantages of the military education propoſed. Fondneſs for the ſubject excites me to prolong the entertainment; and I add the following reflection, on the education of ſuch men as are diſpoſed to ſerve in a public ſta⯑tion. The ſciences are mutually connected; and a man cannot be perfect in any one, without be⯑ing in ſome degree acquainted with every one. The ſcience of politics, in particular, being not a little intricate, cannot be acquired in perfection by any one whoſe ſtudies have been confined to a ſingle branch, whether relative to peace or to war. The Duke of Marlborough made an eminent figure in the cabinet, as well as in the field; and ſuch was equally the illuſtrious Sully, who may ſerve as a model to all miniſters. The great aim in modern politics is, to ſplit government into the greateſt number poſſible of departments, truſting nothing to genius. China is a complete model of ſuch a government. National affairs are there ſo ſimplified by diviſion, as to require ſcarce any capacity in the mandarines. Theſe officers, having little occaſion for activity, either of mind or of body, ſink down into ſloth and ſenſuality: motives of ambition or of fame make no impreſſion: they have not even ſo much delicacy as to bluſh when they err: and as they regard no puniſhment but what touches the perſon or the purſe, it is not un⯑uſual to ſee a mandarine beaten with many ſtripes, ſometimes for a very ſlight tranſgreſſion. Let arts be ſubdivided into many parts; the more ſub⯑diviſions the better: but I venture to pronounce, that no man ever did, nor ever will, make a capi⯑tal [40] figure in the government of a ſtate, whether as a judge, a general, or a miniſter, whoſe edu⯑cation is rigidly confined to one ſcience^*.

Senſible am I that the foregoing plan is in ſeve⯑ral reſpects imperfect; but if it be ſound at bot⯑tom, poliſh and improvement are eaſy operations. My capital aim has been, to obviate the objections that preſs hard againſt every military plan, hither⯑to embraced or propoſed. A ſtanding army in its preſent form, is dangerous to liberty; and but a feeble bulwark againſt ſuperior force. On the other hand, a nation in which every ſubject is a ſoldier, muſt not indulge any hopes of becoming powerful by manufactures and commerce: it is indeed vigorouſly defended, but is ſcarce worthy of being defended. The golden mean of rotati⯑on and conſtant labour in a ſtanding army, would diſcipline multitudes for peace as well as for war. And a nation ſo defended would be invin⯑cible.

SKETCH X.
PUBLIC POLICE with reſpect to the POOR.

AMONG thoſe nations of Europe where government is a ſcience, that part of public police which concerns the poor, makes now a con⯑ſiderable branch of ſtatute-law. The poor-laws are ſo multiplied, and ſo anxiouſly framed, as to move one to think, that there cannot remain a ſingle perſon wanting bread. It is however a ſad truth, that the diſeaſe of poverty, inſtead of be⯑ing eradicated, has become more and more inve⯑terate. England in particular overflows with beg⯑gars, tho' in no other country are the indigent ſo amply provided for. Some radical defect there muſt be in theſe laws, when, after endleſs attempts to perfect them, they all prove abortive. Every writer, diſſatisfied with former plans, fails not to produce one of his own; which, in its turn, meets with as little approbation as any of the foregoing.

The firſt regulation of the ſtates of Holland concerning the poor, was in the year 1614, pro⯑hibiting all begging. The next was in the year 1649. ‘"It is enacted, That every town, vil⯑lage, [42] or pariſh, ſhall maintain its poor out of the income of its charitable foundations and collections; and in caſe theſe means fall ſhort, the magiſtrates ſhall maintain them at the ge⯑neral expence of the inhabitants, as can moſt conveniently be done: Provided always, that the poor be obliged to work either for mer⯑chants, farmers, or others, for reaſonable wages, in order that they may, as far as poſ⯑ſible, be ſupported that way; provided alſo, that they be indulged in no idleneſs nor inſo⯑lence."’ The advice or inſtruction here given to magiſtrates, is ſenſible; but falls ſhort greatly of what may be termed a law, the execution of which can be inforced in a court of ju⯑ſtice.

In France, the precarious charity of monaſte⯑ries proving ineffectual, a hoſpital was erected in the city of Paris anno 1656, having different apartments; one for the innocent poor, one for putting vagabonds to hard labour, one for found⯑lings, and one for the ſick and maimed; with certain funds for defraying the expence of each, which produce annually much about the ſame ſum. In imitation of Paris, hoſpitals of the ſame kind were erected in every great town of the king⯑dom.

The Engliſh began more early to think of their poor; and in a country without induſtry, the ne⯑ceſſity probably aroſe more early. The firſt Engliſh ſtatute bears date in the year 1496, di⯑recting, ‘"That every beggar unable to work, ſhall reſort to the hundred where he laſt dwelt or was born; and there ſhall remain, upon pain of being ſet in the ſtocks three days and nights, with only bread and water, and then ſhall be put out of town."’ This was a law againſt vagrants, for the ſake of order. There [43] was little occaſion, at that period, to provide for the innocent poor; their maintenance being a burden upon monaſteries. But monaſteries being put down by Henry VIII. there was a ſtatute, 22d year of his reign, cap. 12. impowering the juſti⯑ces of every county, to grant licences to poor aged and impotent perſons, to beg within a certain diſtrict; thoſe who beg without it, to be whipt, or ſet in the ſtocks. In the firſt year of Edward VI. cap. 3. a ſtatute was made in favour of im⯑potent, maimed, and aged perſons, that they ſhall have convenient houſes provided for them, in the cities or towns where they were born, or where they reſided for three years, to be relieved by the willing and charitable diſpoſition of the pariſhioners. By 2d and 3d Philip and Mary, cap. 5. the former ſtatutes of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. were confirmed, of gathering weekly relief for the poor by charitable collections. ‘"A man licenced to beg, ſhall wear a badge on his breaſt and back openly."’

The firſt compulſory ſtatute was 5^o Eliſab. cap. 3. empowering juſtices of peace to raiſe a weekly ſum for the poor, by taxing ſuch per⯑ſons as obſtinately refuſe to contribute, after re⯑peated admonitions from the pulpit. In the next ſtatute, 14^o Eliſab. cap. 5. a bolder ſtep was made, impowering juſtices to tax the inha⯑bitants of every pariſh, in a weekly ſum for their poor. And taxations for the poor being now in ſome degree familiar, the remarkable ſtatutes, 39^o Eliſab. cap. 3. and 43^o Eliſab. cap. 2. were enacted, which make the ground-work of all the ſubſequent ſtatutes concerning the poor. By theſe ſtatutes, certain houſe-holders, named by the juſtices, are, in conjunction with the church-wardens, appointed overſeers for the poor; and theſe overſeers, with conſent of two juſtices, [44] are empowered to tax the pariſh in what ſums they think proper, for maintaining the poor.

Among a people ſo tenacious of liberty as the Engliſh are, and ſo impatient of oppreſſion, is it not ſurpriſing, to find a law, that, without cere⯑mony, ſubjects individuals to the arbitrary will of men, who ſeldom either by birth or education de⯑ſerve that important truſt; and without even pro⯑viding any effectual check againſt embezzlement? At preſent, a Britiſh parliament would reject with ſcorn ſuch an abſurd plan; and yet, being familiarized to it, they never ſeriouſly have at⯑tempted a repeal. We have been always on the watch to prevent the ſovereign's encroachments, eſpecially with regard to taxes: but as pariſh-officers are low perſons who inſpire no dread, we ſubmit to have our pockets picked by them, almoſt without repining. There is provided, it is true, an appeal to the general ſeſſions for re⯑dreſſing inequalities in taxing the pariſhioners: but it is no effectual remedy; artful overſeers will not over-rate any man ſo groſsly as to make it his intereſt to complain, conſidering that theſe overſeers have the poor's money to defend them⯑ſelves with. Nor will the general ſeſſions readily liſten to a complaint, that cannot be verified but with much time and trouble. If the appeal have any effect, it will make a ſtill greater inequality, by relieving men of figure at the expence of their inferiors; who muſt ſubmit, having little intereſt to obtain redreſs.

The Engliſh plan, beſide being oppreſſive, is groſsly unjuſt. If it ſhould be reported of ſome diſtant nation, that the burden of maintaining the idle and profligate, is laid upon the frugal and in⯑duſtrious, who work hard for a maintenance to themſelves; what would one think of ſuch a na⯑tion? Yet this is literally the caſe of England. [45] I ſay more: the plan is not only oppreſſive and unjuſt, but miſerably defective in the checking of mal-adminiſtration. In fact, great ſums are levied beyond what the poor receive: it requires brigu⯑ing to be named a church-warden: the nominati⯑on, in London eſpecially, gives him credit at once; and however meagre at the commencement of his office, he is round and plump before it ends. To wax fat and rich by robbing the poor! Let us turn our eyes from a ſcene ſo hor⯑rid^*.

Inequality in taxing, and embezzlement of the money levied, which are notorious, poiſon the minds of the people; and impreſs them with a notion, that all taxes raiſed by public authority are ill managed.

Theſe evils are great, and yet are but ſlight compared with what follow. As the number of poor in England, as well as the expence of main⯑tenance, are increaſing daily, proprietors of land, in order to be relieved of a burden ſo grievous, drive the poor out of the pariſh, and prevent all perſons from ſettling in it who are likely to be⯑come a burden: cottages are demoliſhed, and marriage obſtructed. Influenced by the preſent [46] evil, they look not forward to depopulation, nor to the downfall of huſbandary and manufactures by ſcarcity of hands. Every pariſh is in a ſtate of war with every other pariſh, concerning pauper ſettlements and removals.

The price of labour is generally the ſame in the different ſhires of Scotland, and in the different pariſhes. A few exceptions are occaſioned by the neighbourhood of a great town, or by ſome ex⯑tenſive manufacture that requires many hands. In Scotland, the price of labour reſembles water, which alway levels itſelf: if high in any one corner, an influx of hands brings it down. The price of labour varies in every pariſh of England. A labourer who has gained a ſettlement in a pariſh, on which he depends for bread when he inclines to be idle, dares not remove to another pariſh where wages are higher, fearing to be cut out of a ſettlement altogether. England is in the ſame condition with reſpect to labour, that France lately was with reſpect to corn; which, however plentiful in one province, could not be exported to ſupply the wants of another. The pernicious effects of the latter with reſpect to food, are not more obvious, than of the former with reſpect to manufactures.

Engliſh manufactures labour under a ſtill greater hardſhip than inequality of wages. In a country where there is no fund for the poor but what nature provides, the labourer muſt be ſatisfied with ſuch wages as are cuſtomary: he has no re⯑ſource; for pity is not moved by idleneſs. In England, the labourers command the market: if not ſatisfied with cuſtomary wages, they have an excellent reſource; which is, to abandon work altogether, and to put themſelves on the pariſh. Labour is much cheaper in France than in Eng⯑land: I have heard ſeveral plauſible reaſons; but [47] in my opinion, the difference ariſes from the poor⯑laws. In England, every man is entitled to be idle; and every idler is entitled to a maintenance. In France, the funds appropriated to the poor, yield the ſame ſum annually: that ſum is always pre-occupied; and France, with reſpect to all but thoſe on the liſt, approaches to the ſtate of a nation that has no fund provided by law for the poor.

Depopulation, inequality in the price of labour, and extravagant wages, are deplorable evils. But the Engliſh poor-laws are productive of evils ſtill more deplorable: they are ſubverſive both of morality and induſtry. This is a heavy charge, but no leſs true than heavy. Fear of want is the only effectual motive to induſtry with the labour⯑ing poor: remove that fear, and they ceaſe to be induſtrious. The ruling paſſion of thoſe who live by bodily labour, is to ſave a pittance for their children, and for ſupporting themſelves in old age: ſtimulated by deſire of accompliſhing theſe ends, they are frugal and induſtrious; and the proſpect of ſucceſs is to them a continual feaſt. Now what worſe can malice invent againſt ſuch a man, under colour of friendſhip, than to ſecure bread to him and his children whenever he takes a diſlike to work; which effectually deadens his ſole ambition, and with it his honeſt induſtry? Relying on the certainty of a proviſion againſt want, he relaxes gradually till he ſink into idle⯑neſs: idleneſs leads to profligacy: profligacy be⯑gets diſeaſes: and the wretch becomes an object of public charity before he has run half his courſe. Such are the genuine effects of the Engliſh tax for the poor, under a miſtaken notion of charity. There never was known in any country, a ſcheme for the poor more contradictory to ſound policy. Might it not have been foreſeen, that to a grovel⯑ing [48] creature, who has no ſenſe of honour, and ſcarce any of ſhame, the certainty of mainte⯑nance would prove an irreſiſtible temptation to idleneſs and debauchery? The poor-houſe at Lyons contained originally but forty beds, of which twenty only were occupied. The eight hundred beds it contains at preſent, are not ſuffi⯑cient for the poor who demand admittance. A premium is not more ſucceſsful in any caſe, than where it is given to promote idleneſs. A houſe for the poor was erected in a French village, the revenue of which, by oeconomy, became con⯑ſiderable. Upon a repreſentation by the curate of the pariſh, that more beds were neceſſary, the proprietor undertook the management. He ſold the houſe, with the furniture; and to every proper object of charity, he ordered a moderate proportion of bread and beef. The poor and ſick were more comfortably lodged at home, than formerly in the poor-houſe. And by that plan of management, the pariſh-poor decreaſed, inſtead of increaſing, as at Lyons. How few Engliſh manufacturers labour the whole week, if the work of four or five days afford them mainte⯑nance? Is not this a demonſtration, that the malady of idleneſs is widely ſpread? In Briſtol, the pariſh-poor twenty years ago did not exceed four thouſand: at preſent, they amount to more than ten thouſand. But as a malady, when left to itſelf, commonly effectuates its own cure; ſo it will happen in this caſe: when, by prevailing idleneſs, every one without ſhame claims pariſh-charity, the burden will become intolerable, and the poor will be left to their ſhifts.

The immoral effects of public charity are not confined to thoſe who depend on it, but extend to their children. The conſtant anxiety of a labour⯑ing man to provide for his children, endears them [49] to him. Being relieved of that anxiety by the tax for the poor, his affection cools gradually, and he turns at laſt perfectly indifferent about them. Their independence, on the other hand, weans them from their duty to him. And thus, affection between parent and child, which is the corner-ſtone of ſociety, is in a great meaſure ob⯑literated among the labouring poor. In a plan publiſhed by the Earl of Hillſborough, there is an article, obliging parents to maintain their indigent children, and children to maintain their indigent parents. Natural affection muſt indeed be at a low ebb, where ſuch a regulation is neceſſary: but it is neceſſary, at leaſt in London, where it is common to ſee men in good buſineſs neglect⯑ing their aged and diſeaſed parents, for no better reaſon, than that the pariſh is bound to find them bread: Proh tempora, proh mores!

The immoral effects of public charity ſpread ſtill wider. It fails not to extinguiſh the virtue of charity among the rich; who never think of giving charity, when the public undertakes for all. In a ſcheme publiſhed by Mr. Hay, one ar⯑ticle is, to raiſe a ſtock for the poor by voluntary contributions, and to make up the deficiency by a pariſh-tax. Will individuals ever contribute, when it is not to relieve the poor, but to relieve the pariſh? Every hoſpital has a poor-box, which ſeldom produces any thing^*. The great comfort of ſociety is aſſiſtance in time of need; [50] and its firmeſt cement is, the beſtowing and re⯑ceiving kindly offices, eſpecially in diſtreſs. Now to unhinge or ſuſpend the exerciſe of chari⯑ty, by rendering it unneceſſary, relaxes every ſo⯑cial virtue, by ſupplanting the chief of them. The conſequence is diſmal: exerciſe of benevo⯑lence to the diſtreſſed is our ſureſt guard againſt the encroachments of ſelfiſhneſs: if that guard be withdrawn, ſelfiſhneſs will prevail, and become the ruling paſſion. In fact, the tax for the poor has contributed greatly to the growth of that gro⯑veling paſſion, ſo conſpicuous at preſent in En⯑gland.

Engliſh authors who turn their thoughts to the poor, make heavy complaints of decaying chari⯑ty, and increaſing poverty: never once drea⯑ming, that theſe are the genuine effects of a legal proviſion for the poor; which on the one hand eradicates the virtue of charity, and on the other is a violent temptation to idleneſs. Wonderfully ill contrived muſt the Engliſh charity-laws be, when their conſequences are to ſap the foundati⯑on of voluntary charity; to deprive the labour⯑ing poor of their chief comfort, that of providing for themſelves and children; to relax mutual af⯑fection between parent and child; and to reward, inſtead of puniſhing, idleneſs and vice. Conſider whether a legal proviſion for the poor, be ſuffici⯑ent to atone for ſo many evils.

No man had better opportunity than Fielding to be acquainted with the ſtate of the poor: let us liſten to him. ‘"That the poor are a very great burden, and even a nuiſance to the kingdom; that the laws for relieving their diſtreſſes, and reſtraining their vices, have not anſwered; and that they are at preſent very ill provided for, and much worſe governed, are truths which every one will acknowledge. Every [51] perſon who hath property, muſt feel the weight of the tax that is levied for the poor; and every perſon of underſtanding, muſt ſee how abſurdly it is applied. So uſeleſs indeed is this heavy tax, and ſo wretched its diſpoſi⯑tion, that it is a queſtion, whether the poor or rich are actually more diſſatisfied, ſince the plunder of the one ſerves ſo little to the real advantage of the other: for while a million yearly is raiſed among the rich, many of the poor are ſtarved; many more languiſh in want and miſery; of the reſt, numbers are found begging or pilfering in the ſtreets to⯑day, and to-morrow are locked up in goals and Bridewells. If we were to make a pro⯑greſs through the outſkirts of the metropolis, and look into the habitations of the poor, we ſhould there behold ſuch pictures of human miſery, as muſt move the compaſſion of every heart that deſerves the name of human. What indeed muſt be his compoſition, who could ſee whole families in want of every ne⯑ceſſary of life, oppreſſed with hunger, cold, nakedneſs, and filth; and with diſeaſes, the certain conſequence of all theſe! The ſuffe⯑rings indeed of the poor are leſs known than their miſdeeds; and therefore we are leſs apt to pity them. They ſtarve, and freeze, and rot, among themſelves; but they beg, and ſteal, and rob, among their betters. There is not a pariſh in the liberty of Weſtminſter, which doth not raiſe thouſands annually for the poor; and there is not a ſtreet in that liberty, which doth not ſwarm all day with beggars, and all night with thieves."’

There is not a ſingle beggar to be ſeen in Pen⯑ſylvania. Luxury and idleneſs have got no footing [52] in that happy country; and thoſe who ſuffer by misfortune, have their maintenance out of the public treaſury. But luxury and idleneſs cannot for ever be excluded; and when they take place, this regulation will be as pernicious in Penſylva⯑nia, as the poor-rates are in Britain.

Of the many propoſals that have been pub⯑liſhed for reforming the poor-laws, not one has pierced to the root of the evil. None of the au⯑thors entertain the ſlighteſt doubt, of a legal pro⯑viſion being neceſſary, tho' all our diſtreſſes ariſe evidently from that very cauſe. Travellers com⯑plain, of being infeſted with an endleſs number of beggars in every Engliſh town; a very different ſcene from what they meet with in Holland or Switzerland. How would it ſurpriſe them to be told, that this proceeds from an overflow of cha⯑rity in the good people of England!

Few inſtitutions are more tickliſh than thoſe of charity. In London, common proſtitutes are treated with ſingular humanity: a hoſpital for them when pregnant, diſburdens them of their load, and nurſes them till they be again fit for buſineſs: another hoſpital cures them of the ve⯑nereal diſeaſe: and a third receives them with open arms, when, inſtead of deſire, they become objects of averſion. Would not one imagine, that theſe hoſpitals have been erected for encouraging proſtitution? They undoubtedly have that effect, tho' far from being intended. Mr Stirling, ſuper⯑intendant of the Edinburgh poor-houſe, deſerves to be kept in perpetual remembrance, for a ſcheme he contrived to reform common proſti⯑tutes. A number of them were confined in a houſe of correction, on a daily allowance of three pence; and even part of that ſmall pittance was embezzled by the ſervants of the houſe. Pin⯑ching hunger did not reform their manners; for [53] being ſo abſolutely idle, they encouraged each o⯑ther in vice, waiting impatiently for the hour of deliverance. Mr Stirling, with conſent of the magiſtrates, removed them to a clean houſe; and inſtead of money, which is apt to be ſquandered, appointed for each a pound of oat meal daily, with ſalt, water, and fire for cooking. Relieved now from diſtreſs, they long for comfort: what would they not give for milk or ale? Work, ſays he, will procure you plenty. To ſome who of⯑fered to ſpin, he gave flax and wheels, engaging to pay them half the price of their yarn, retain⯑ing the other half for the materials furniſhed: The ſpinners earned about nine pence weekly, a comfortable addition to what they had before. The reſt undertook to ſpin, one after another; and before the end of the firſt quarter, they were all of them intent upon work. It was a branch of his plan, to ſet free ſuch as merited that fa⯑vour; and ſome of them appeared ſo thoroughly reformed, as to be in no danger of a relapſe.

The ingenious author of The Police of France, who wrote in the year 1753, obſerves, that not⯑withſtanding the plentiful proviſion for the poor in that kingdom, mentioned above, there was a general complaint, of the increaſe of beggars and vagrants; and adds, that the French political writers, diſſatisfied with their own plan, had pre⯑ſented ſeveral memorials to the miniſtry, pro⯑poſing to adopt the Engliſh parochial aſſeſſments, as greatly preferable. This is a curious fact; for at the very ſame time people in London, no leſs diſſatisfied with theſe aſſeſſments, were wri⯑ting pamphlets in praiſe of the French hoſpitals. One thing is certain, that no plan hitherto inven⯑ted has given ſatisfaction. Whether an unexcep⯑tionable plan is at all poſſible, ſeems extremely doubtful.

[54] In every plan for the poor that I have ſeen, workhouſes make one article; to provide work for thoſe who are willing, and to make thoſe work who are unwilling. With reſpect to the former, men need never be idle in England for want of employment; and they always ſucceed the beſt at the employment they chuſe for themſelves. With reſpect to the latter, puniſhment will not compel a man to labour ſeriouſly: he may aſſume the appearance, but will make no progreſs; and the pretext of ſickneſs or weakneſs is ever at hand for an excuſe. The only compulſion to make a man work ſeriouſly, is fear of want.

A hoſpital for the ſick, for the wounded, and for the maimed, is an excellent eſtabliſhment; being productive of good, without doing any harm. Such a hoſpital ſhould depend partly on voluntary charity; to procure which a general conviction of its being well managed, is neceſſa⯑ry. Hoſpitals that have a ſufficient fund of their own, and that have no dependence on the good will of others, are commonly ill managed.

Lies there any objection againſt a workhouſe, for training to labour deſtitute orphans, and beg⯑ging children? It is an article in Mr. Hay's plan, that the workhouſe ſhould relieve poor families of all their children above three. This has an enticing appearance, but is unſound at bottom. Children require the tenderneſs of a mother, du⯑ring the period of infantine diſeaſes; and even af⯑ter that period, they are far from being ſafe in the hands of mercenaries, who ſtudy nothing but their own eaſe and intereſt. Would it not be better, to diſtribute ſmall ſums from time to time among poor families overburdened with children, ſo as to relieve them from famine, not from la⯑bour? And with reſpect to orphans and begging [55] children, I incline to think, that it would be a more ſalutary meaſure, to encourage mechanicks, manufactures, and farmers above all, to edu⯑cate ſuch children. A premium for each, the half in hand, and the other half when they can work for themſelves, would be a proper encou⯑ragement. The beſt-regulated orphans-hoſpital I am acquainted with, is that of Edinburgh. Or⯑phans are taken in from every corner, provided only they be not under the age of ſeven, nor above that of twelve: under ſeven, they are too tender for a hoſpital; above twelve, their relations can find employment for them. Beſide the being taught to read and write, they are carefully in⯑ſtructed in ſome art, that may afford them com⯑fortable ſubſiſtence.

No man ever called in queſtion the utility of the marine ſociety; which will reflect honour on the members as long as we have a navy to protect us: they deſerve a rank above that of gartered knights. That inſtitution is the nobleſt exertion of charity and patriotiſm, that ever was known in any country.

A ſort of hoſpital for ſervants who for twenty years have faithfully adhered to the ſame maſter, would be much to my taſte; with a few adjoin⯑ing acres for a kitchen-garden. The fund for purchaſing, building, and maintenance, muſt be raiſed by contribution; and none but the contri⯑butors ſhould be entitled to offer ſervants to the houſe. By ſuch encouragement, a malady would be remedied, that of wandering from maſter to maſter for better wages, or eaſier ſervice, which ſeldom fails to corrupt ſervants. They ought to be comfortably provided for, adding to the allow⯑ance of the houſe what pot-herbs are raiſed by their own labour. A number of virtuous men thus aſſociated, would end their days in com⯑fort; [56] and the proſpect of attaining a ſettlement ſo agreeable, would form excellent ſervants. How advantageous would ſuch a hoſpital prove to huſ⯑bandry in particular!

Of all the miſchiefs that have been engendered by over-anxiety about the poor, none have prov⯑ed more fatal than foundling-hoſpitals. They tend to cool affection for children, ſtill more ef⯑fectually than the Engliſh pariſh-charity. At every occaſional pinch for food, away goes a child to the hoſpital; and parental affection among the lower ſort turns ſo languid, that many who are in no pinch, relieve themſelves of trouble by the ſame means. It is affirmed, that of the chil⯑dren born annually in Paris, about a third part are ſent to the foundling-hoſpital. The Paris almanack for the year 1768, mentions, that there were baptized 18,576 infants, of whom the foundling-hoſpital received 6025. The propor⯑tion originally was much leſs; but vice creeps on with a ſwift pace. How enormous muſt be the degeneracy of the Pariſian populace, and their want of parental affection!

Let us next turn to infants ſhut up in this hoſ⯑pital. Of all animals, infants of the human race are the weakeſt: they require a mother's affecti⯑on to guard them againſt numberleſs diſeaſes and accidents; a wiſe appointment of Providence to connect parents and children in the ſtricteſt union. In a foundling-hoſpital, there is no fond mother to watch over her tender babe; and the hireling nurſe has no fondneſs but for her own little profit. Need we any other cauſe for the deſtruction of in⯑fants in a foundling-hoſpital, much greater in proportion than of thoſe under the care of a mo⯑ther? And yet there is another cauſe equally po⯑tent, which is corrupted air. What Hanway obſerves upon pariſh-workhouſes, is equally ap⯑plicable [57] to a foundling-hoſpital. ‘"To at⯑tempt,"’ ſays he, ‘"to nouriſh an infant in a workhouſe, where a number of nurſes are congregated into one room, and conſequently the air become putrid, I will pronounce, from intimate knowledge of the ſubject, to be but a ſmall remove from ſlaughter; for the child muſt die."’ Down then with foundling-hoſ⯑pitals, more noxious than peſtilence or famine. An infant expoſed at the door of a dwelling-houſe, muſt be taken up: but in that caſe, which ſel⯑dom happens, the infant has a better chance for life with a hired nurſe than in a hoſpital; and a chance perhaps little worſe, bad as it is, than with an unnatural mother. I approve not indeed of a quarterly payment to ſuch a nurſe: would it not do better to furniſh her bare maintenance for three years; and if the child be alive at that time, to give her a handſome addition?

A houſe of correction is neceſſary for good or⯑der; but belongs not to the preſent eſſay, which concerns maintenance of the poor, not puniſh⯑ment of vagrants. I ſhall only by the way bor⯑row a thought from Fielding, that faſting is the proper puniſhment of profligacy, not any puniſh⯑ment that is attended with ſhame. Puniſhment, he obſerves, that deprives a man of all ſenſe of honour, never will contribute to make him vir⯑tuous.

Charity-ſchools might have been proper, when few could read, and fewer write; but theſe arts are now ſo common, that in moſt fami⯑lies children may be taught to read at home, and to write in a private ſchool at little expence. Cha⯑rity-ſchools at preſent are more hurtful than be⯑neficial: young perſons who continue there ſo long as to read and write fluently, become too delicate for hard labour, and too proud for ordi⯑nary [58] labour. Knowledge is a dangerous acquiſi⯑tion to the labouring poor: the more of it that is poſſeſſed by a ſhepherd, a ploughman, or any drudge, the leſs fitted is he to labour with content. The only plauſible argument for a charity-ſchool, is, ‘"That children of the labouring poor are taught there the principles of religion and of morality, which they cannot acquire at home."’ The argument would be invincible, if with⯑out education we could have no knowledge of theſe principles. But Providence has not left man in a ſtate ſo imperfect: the principles of theology and of morality are ſtamped on his heart; and none can be ignorant of them, who attend to their own perceptions. Education is indeed of uſe to ripen ſuch perceptions; and it is a ſingular uſe to thoſe who have time for reading and thinking: but education in a charity-ſchool is ſo ſlight, as to render it doubtful, whether it be not more hurtful by foſtering lazineſs, than advantageous by conveying inſtruction. The natural impreſſi⯑ons of religion and morality, if not obſcured by vicious habits, are ſufficient for good conduct: preſerve a man from vice by conſtant labour, and he will not be deficient in his duty either to God or to man. Heſiod, an ancient and reſpectable poet, ſays, that God hath placed labour as a guard to virtue. More integrity accordingly will be found among a number of induſtrious poor ta⯑ken at random, than among the ſame number in any other claſs.

I heartily approve every regulation that tends to prevent idleneſs. Chief Juſtice Hale ſays, ‘"That prevention of poverty and idleneſs would do more good than all the gibbets, whipping⯑poſts, and goals in the kingdom."’ In that view, gaming-houſes ought to be heavily taxed, as well as horſe-racing, cock-fighting, and all [59] meetings that encourage idleneſs. The admitting low people to vote for members of parliament, is a ſource of idleneſs, corruption, and poverty. The ſame privilege is ruinous to every ſmall parliament borough. Nor have I any difficulty to pronounce, that the admitting the populace to vote in the election of a miniſter, a frequent practice in Scotland, is productive of the ſame pernicious effects.

What then is to be the reſult of the forego⯑ing enquiry? Is it from defect of invention that a good legal eſtabliſhment for the poor is not yet diſcovered? or is it impracticable to make any legal eſtabliſhment that is not fraught with corruption? I incline to the latter, for the follow⯑ing reaſons, no leſs obvious than ſolid, That in a legal eſtabliſhment for the poor, no diſtinction can be made between virtue and vice; and con⯑ſequently that every ſucheſt abliſhment muſt be a premium for idleneſs. And where is the neceſſi⯑ty, after all, of any public eſtabliſhment? By what unhappy prejudice have people been led to think, that the Author of our nature, ſo benefi⯑cent to his favourite man in every other reſpect, has abandoned the indigent to famine and death, if municipal law interpoſe not? We need but in⯑ſpect the human heart to be convinced, that per⯑ſons in diſtreſs are his peculiar care. Not only has he made it our duty to afford them relief, but has ſuperadded the paſſion of pity to enforce the performance of that duty. This branch of our nature fulfils in perfection all the ſalutary purpoſes of charity, without admitting any one of the deplorable evils that a legal proviſion is fraught with. The contrivance, at the ſame time, is extremely ſimple: it leaves to every man the objects as well as meaſure of his charity. No man eſteems it a duty to relieve wretches reduced [60] to poverty by idleneſs and profligacy: they move not our pity; nor do they expect any good from us. Wiſely therefore is it ordered by Provi⯑dence, that charity ſhould in every reſpect be vo⯑luntary, to prevent the idle and profligate from depending on it for ſupport.

This plan is in many reſpects excellent. The exerciſe of charity, when free from compulſion, is extremely pleaſant. The pleaſure, it is true, is ſcarce felt where charity is rendered unneceſſa⯑ry by municipal law; but were that law laid aſide, the gratification of pity would become one of our ſweeteſt pleaſures. Charity, like other affecti⯑ons, is invigorated by exerciſe, and no leſs en⯑feebled by diſuſe. Providence withal hath ſcat⯑tered benevolence among the ſons of men with a liberal hand: and notwithſtanding the obſtruction of municipal law, ſeldom is there found one ſo obdurate, as to reſiſt the impulſe of compaſſion, when a proper object is preſented. In a well re⯑gulated government, promoting induſtry and vir⯑tue, the perſons who need charity are not many: and ſuch perſons may, with aſſurance, depend on the charity of their neighbours^*.

It may, at the ſame time, be boldly affirmed, that thoſe who need charity, would be more com⯑fortably provided for by the plan of Providence, than by any legal eſtabliſhment. Creatures, loathſome by diſeaſe or naſtineſs, affect the air in a poor-houſe, and have little chance for life, without more care and kindlineſs, than can be hoped from ſervants, render callous by continual ſcenes of miſery. Conſider, on the other hand, [61] the conſequences of voluntary charity, equally agreeable to the giver and receiver. The kind⯑ly connection it forms between them, grows ſtronger and ſtronger by reiteration; and ſqual⯑lid poverty, far from being an obſtruction, ex⯑cites a degree of pity, proportioned to the di⯑ſtreſs. It may happen for a wonder, that an indigent perſon is overlooked; but for one who will ſuffer by ſuch neglect, multitudes ſuffer by compelled charity.

But what I inſiſt on with peculiar ſatisfaction is, that natural charity is an illuſtrious ſupport to virtue. Indigent virtue can never fail of re⯑lief, becauſe it never fails to enflame compaſſion. Indigent vice, on the contrary, raiſes indignation more than pity^a; and therefore can have lit⯑tle proſpect of relief. What a glorious incite⯑ment to induſtry and virtue, and how diſcou⯑raging to idleneſs and vice! Lamentable it is, that ſo beautiful a ſtructure ſhould be razed to the ground by municipal law, which, in provi⯑ding for the poor, makes no diſtinction between virtue and vice. The execution of the poor⯑laws would indeed be impracticable, were ſuch a diſtinction attempted by enquiring into the conduct and character of every pauper. Where are judges to be found who will patiently follow out ſuch a dark and intricate expiſcation? To accompliſh the taſk, a man muſt abandon every other concern.

In the firſt Engliſh ſtatutes mentioned above, the legiſlature appear carefully to have avoided compulſory charity: every meaſure for promo⯑ting voluntary charity was firſt tried, before the fatal blow was ſtruck, empowering pariſh-offi⯑cers [62] to impoſe a tax for the poor. The legiſla⯑ture certainly did not foreſee the baneful conſe⯑quences: but how came they not to ſee that they were diſtruſting Providence, declaring in effect, that the plan eſtabliſhed by our Maker for the poor, is inſufficient? Many are the mu⯑nicipal laws that enforce the laws of nature, by additional rewards and puniſhments; but it was ſingularly bold to aboliſh the natural law of cha⯑rity, by eſtabliſhing a legal tax in its ſtead. Men will always be mending: what a confuſed jumble do they make, when they attempt to mend the laws of Nature! Leave Nature to her own operations: ſhe underſtands them the beſt.

Few regulations are more plauſible than what are political; and yet few are more deceitful. An ingenious writer makes the following obſer⯑vations upon the 43^o Eliz. eſtabliſhing a mainte⯑nance for the poor. ‘"Laws have been enacted in many other countries, which have puniſh⯑ed the idle beggar, and exhorted the rich to extend their charity to the poor: but it is peculiar to the humanity of England, to have made their ſupport a matter of obligation and neceſſity on the more wealthy. The Engliſh ſeem to be the firſt nation in Europe in ſcience, arts, and arms: they likewiſe are poſſeſſed of the freeſt and moſt perfect of conſtitutions, and the bleſſings conſequential to that freedom. If virtues in an individual are ſometimes ſuppoſed to be rewarded in this world, I do not think it too preſumptuous to ſuppoſe, that national virtues may likewiſe meet with their reward. England hath, to its peculiar honour, not only made their poor free, but hath provided a certain and ſolid eſtabliſhment to prevent their neceſſities and indigence, when they ariſe from what the law [63] calls the act of God: and are not theſe benefi⯑cent and humane attentions to the miſeries of our fellow-creatures, the firſt of thoſe poor pleas which we are capable of offering, in behalf of our imperfections, to an all-wiſe and merciful Creator!"’ To this writer, who ſhows more zeal than knowledge, I oppoſe ano⯑ther, whoſe reflections are more rational. ‘"In England, there is an act of the legiſlature, obliging every pariſh to maintain its own poor. Scarce any man living, who has not ſeen the effects of this law, but muſt approve of it; and yet ſuch are its effects, that the ſtreets of London are filled with objects of miſery be⯑yond what is ſeen in any other city. The la⯑bouring poor, depending on this law to be provided in ſickneſs and old age, are little ſo⯑licitous to ſave, and become habitually pro⯑fuſe. The principle of charity is eſtabliſhed by Providence in the human heart, for reliev⯑ing thoſe who are diſabled to work for them⯑ſelves. And if the labouring poor had no de⯑pendence but on the principle of charity, they would be more religious; and if they were influenced by religion, they would be leſs abandoned in their behaviour. Thus this ſeeming-good act turns to a national evil: there is more diſtreſs among the poor in Lon⯑don than any where in Europe; and more drunkenneſs both in males and females^a."’

I am aware, that during the reign of Elizabeth, ſome compulſion might be neceſſary to preſerve the poor from ſtarving. Henry VIII. had ſeque⯑ſtered all the hoſpitals, a hundred and ten in number, and ſquandered their revenues; he had [64] alſo demoliſhed all the abbeys. By theſe means, the poor were reduced to a miſerable condition: eſpecially as private charity, for want of exer⯑ciſe, was at a low ebb. That critical juncture required indeed help from the legiſlature; and a temporary proviſion for the poor would have been a proper meaſure; ſo contrived as not to ſuperſede voluntary charity, but rather to pro⯑mote it. Unlucky it is for England, that ſuch a meaſure was overlooked; but Queen Elizabeth and her parliaments had not the talent of foreſee⯑ing conſequences without the aid of experience. A perpetual tax for the poor was impoſed, the moſt pernicious tax that ever was impoſed in any country.

With reſpect to the preſent times, the reaſon now given pleads againſt aboliſhing at once a le⯑gal proviſion for the poor. It may be taken for granted, that charity is in England not more vi⯑gorous at preſent, than it was in the days of Eli⯑zabeth. Would our miniſtry but lead the way, by ſhowing ſome zeal for a reformation, expe⯑dients would probably be invented, for ſupport⯑ing the poor, without unhinging voluntary cha⯑rity. The following expedient, is propoſed, merely as a ſpecimen. Let a tax be impoſed by parliament on every pariſh for their poor, varia⯑ble in proportion to the number; but not to ex⯑ceed the half of what is neceſſary; and directing the landholders to make up quarterly, a liſt of the names and condition of ſuch perſons as in their opinion need charity; with an eſtimate of what each ought to have weekly. The public tax makes the half, and the other half is to be raiſed by voluntary contribution. To prevent colluſion, the roll of the poor, and their weekly appointment, with a ſubſcription of gentlemen for their part of the ſum, ſhall be examined by [65] the juſtices of peace at a quarterly meeting; who, on receiving ſatisfaction, muſt order the ſum ari⯑ſing from the public tax to be diſtributed among the poor contained in the roll, according to the eſtimate of the landholders. As the public fund lies dead till the ſubſcription is completed, it is not to be imagined, that any gentleman will ſtand out: it would be a public imputation on his character. Far from apprehending any deficien⯑cy, confident I am, that every gentleman would conſider it as honourable to contribute largely. This agreeable work muſt be blended with what is rather diſagreeable, that of excluding from the roll every profligate, male or female. If that rule be followed out with a proper degree of ſeverity, the innocent poor will diminiſh daily; ſo as in time to be ſafely left upon voluntary charity, without neceſſity of any tax.

But muſt miſerable wretches, reduced to po⯑verty by idleneſs or intemperance, be, in a Chriſti⯑an country, abandoned to diſeaſes and famine? It is this very argument, ſhallow as it is, that has corrupted the induſtry of England, and reduced multitudes to diſeaſes and famine. Thoſe who are able to work, may be locked up in a houſe of correction, to be fed with bread and water; but with liberty of working for themſelves. And as for the remainder, their caſe is not deſperate, when they have acceſs to ſuch tender-hearted perſons as are more eminent for pity than for prin⯑ciple. If by neglect or overſight any happen to die of want, the example will tend more to re⯑formation, than the moſt pathetic diſcourſe from the pulpit.

Even at the hazard of loſing a few lives by neglect or overſight, common begging ought ab⯑ſolutely to be prohibited. The moſt profligate are the moſt impudent, and the moſt expert at [66] feigning diſtreſs. If begging be indulged to any, all will ruſh into the public: idlers are fond of that wandering and indolent ſort of life; and there is no temptation to idleneſs more ſucceſsful, than liberty to beg. In order to be relieved from common beggars, it has been propoſed, to fine thoſe who gave them alms. Little penetration muſt they have, to whom the inſufficiency of ſuch a remedy is not palpable. It is eaſy to give alms without been ſeen; and compaſſion will ex⯑tort alms, even at the hazard of ſuffering for it; not to mention, that every one in ſuch a caſe will avoid the odious character of an informer. The following remedy is ſuggeſted, as what probably may anſwer better. An officer muſt be appoint⯑ed in every pariſh, with a competent ſalary, for apprehending and carrying to the workhouſe every ſtrolling beggar; under the penalty of loſing his office, with what ſalary is due to him, if any beggar be found ſtrolling four and twenty hours after the fact comes to his knowledge. In the workhouſe ſuch beggars ſhall be fed with bread and water for a year, but with liberty of working for themſelves.

I declare reſolutely againſt a perpetual tax for the poor. But if there muſt be ſuch a tax, I know of none leſs ſubverſive of induſtry and mo⯑rals, than that eſtabliſhed in Scotland, obliging the landholders in every pariſh to meet at ſtated times, in order to provide a fund for the poor; but leaving the objects of their charity, and the meaſure, to their own humanity and diſcretion. In this plan, there is no encroachment on the natural duty of charity, but only that the mi⯑nority muſt ſubmit to the opinion of the majo⯑rity.

In large towns, where the character and cir⯑cumſtances of the poor-are not ſo well known as [67] in country-pariſhes, the following variation is propoſed. Inſtead of landholders, who are pro⯑per in country-pariſhes, let there be in each town-pariſh a ſtanding committee, to be choſen by the proprietors of houſes, the third part to be chang⯑ed annually. This committee, with the miniſter, make up a liſt of ſuch as deſerve charity, adding an eſtimate of what, with their own labour, may be ſufficient for each of them. The miniſter, with one or two of the committee, carry about this liſt to every family that can afford charity, ſuggeſting what may be proper for each to contri⯑bute. This liſt, with an addition of the ſum contributed or promiſed by each houſeholder, muſt be affixed on the principal door of the pariſh⯑church, to honour the contributors, and to inform the poor of the proviſion made for them. Some ſuch mode may probably be effectual, without tranſgreſſing the bounds of voluntary charity. But if any one obſtinately refuſe to contribute after ſeveral applications, the committee at their diſcretion may tax him. If it be the poſſeſſor who declines contributing, the tax muſt be laid upon him, reſerving relief againſt his land⯑lord.

In great towns, the poor, who ought to be pro⯑hibited from begging, are leſs known than in country pariſhes. And among a crowd of inha⯑bitants, it is eaſier for an individual to eſcape the eye of the public, when he with-holds charity, than in country-pariſhes. Both defects will be remedied by the plan above propoſed: it will bring to light, in great cities, the poor who de⯑ſerve charity; and it will bring to light every perſon who with-holds charity.

SKETCH XI.
A GREAT CITY conſidered in Phyſical, Moral, and Political Views.

IN all ages an opinion ſeems to have been pre⯑valent, that a great city is a great evil, and that a capital may be too great for the ſtate, as a head may be for the body. Conſidering however the very ſhallow reaſons that have been given for this opinion, it ſhould ſeem to be but ſlightly founded. There are ſeveral ordinances limiting the extent of Paris, and prohibiting new buildings beyond the preſcribed bounds; the firſt of which is by Henry II. ann. 1549. Theſe ordinances have been renewed from time to time, down to the year 1672, in which year there is an edict of Louis XIV. to the ſame purpoſe. The reaſons aſſigned are, ‘"Firſt, That by enlarging the city, the air would be rendered unwholeſome. Second, That cleaning the ſtreets would prove a great additional labour. Third, That adding to the number of inhabitants would raiſe the price of proviſions, of labour, and of manu⯑factures. Fourth, That ground would be [69] covered with buildings inſtead of corn, which might hazard a ſcarcity. Fifth, That the country would be depopulated by the deſire that people have to reſort to the capital. And, laſtly, That the difficulty of governing ſuch numbers would be an encouragement to robbery and murder."’

Theſe reaſons for confining the city of Paris within certain bounds are wonderfully ſhallow. The moſt important of them conclude juſtly againſt permitting an increaſe of inhabitants: the ſecond and fourth conclude only againſt enlarging the city; and theſe, at the beſt, are trifling. The firſt reaſon urged againſt enlarging the city, is a ſolid reaſon for enlarging it, ſuppoſing the num⯑bers to be limited; for to prevent crouding is an excellent preventive of unwholeſome air. Paris, with the ſame number of inhabitants that were in the days of the fourth Henry, occupies thrice the ſpace, much to the health as well as comfort of the inhabitants. Had the ordinances mentioned been made effectual, the houſes in Paris muſt all have been built, like thoſe in the old town, ſtory above ſtory, aſcending to the ſky like the tower of Babel. Before the great fire anno 1666, the plague was frequent in London; but by widening the ſtreets, and enlarging the houſes, there has not ſince been known in that great city, any contagious diſtemper that deſerves the name of a plague. The third, fifth, and laſt reaſons, conclude againſt permitting any addition to the number of inhabitants; but conclude nothing againſt enlarging the town. In a word, the mea⯑ſure adopted in theſe ordinances has little or no tendency to correct the evils complained of; and infallibly would enflame the chief of them. The [70] meaſure that ought to have been adopted, is to limit the number of inhabitants, not the extent of the town.

Queen Elizabeth of England, copying the French ordinances, iſſued a proclamation anno 1602, prohibiting any new buildings within three miles of London. The preamble is in the fol⯑lowing words: ‘"That foreſeeing the great and manifold inconveniencies and miſchiefs which daily grow, and are likely to increaſe, in the city and ſuburbs of London, by confluence of people to inhabit the ſame; not only by reaſon that ſuch multitudes can hardly be governed to ſerve God, and obey her Majeſty, without conſtituting an addition of new officers, and enlarging their authority; but alſo can hardly be provided of food and other neceſſaries at a reaſonable price; and finally, that as ſuch multitudes of people, many of them poor, who muſt live by begging, or worſe means, are heaped up together, and in a ſort ſmo⯑thered, with many children and ſervants, in one houſe or ſmall tenement; it muſt needs follow, if any plague or other univerſal ſickneſs come amongſt them, that it would preſently ſpread through the whole city and confines, and alſo into all parts of the realm."’

There appears no deeper penetration in this pro⯑clamation, than in the French ordinances. The ſame error is obſervable in both, which is the li⯑miting the extent of the town, inſtead of limiting the number of inhabitants. True it is indeed, that the regulation would have a better effect in London than in Paris. As ſtone is in plenty about Paris, houſes there may be carried to a very great height; and are actually ſo carried in the old town: but there being no ſtone about [71] London, the houſes formerly were built of timber, now of brick; materials too frail for a lofty edifice.

Proceeding to particulars, the firſt objection, which is the expence of governing a great multi⯑tude, concludes againſt the numbers, not againſt the extent of the city. At the ſame time, the objection is at beſt doubtful in point of fact. Though vices abound in a great city, requiring the ſtricteſt attention of the magiſtrate; yet with a well-regulated police, it is much leſs expenſive to govern 600,000 in one city, than the ſame number in ten different cities. The ſecond ob⯑jection, viz. the high price of proviſions, ſtrikes only againſt numbers, not extent. Beſide, what⯑ever might have been the caſe in the days of Elizabeth, when agriculture and internal com⯑merce were in their infancy; there are at preſent not many towns in England, where a temperate man may live cheaper than in London. The hazard of contagious diſtempers, which is the third objection, is an invincible argument againſt limiting the extent of a great town. It is men⯑tioned above, that from the year 1666, when the ſtreets were widened, and the houſes enlarged, London has never been once viſited by the plague. If the proclamation had taken effect, the houſes muſt have been ſo crouded upon each other, and the ſtreets ſo contracted, as to have occaſioned plagues ſtill more frequently than before the year 1666.

The miniſtry of the Queen's immediate ſuc⯑ceſſors were not more clear-ſighted than ſhe and her miniſters were. In the year 1624, King James iſſued a proclamation againſt building in London upon new foundations. Charles I. iſ⯑ſued two proclamations to the ſame purpoſe; one in the year 1625, and one in the year 1630.

[72] The progreſs of political knowledge has un⯑folded many bad effects of a great city, more weighty than any urged in theſe proclamations. The firſt I ſhall mention is, that people born and bred in a great city are commonly weak and ef⯑feminate. Vegetius^a obſerving, that men bred to huſbandry make the beſt ſoldiers, adds what follows. ‘"Interdum tamen neceſſitas exigit, etiam urbanos ad arma compelli: qui ubi nomen dedere militiae, primum laborare, decurrere, portare pondus, et ſolem pulveremque ferre, condiſcant; parco victu utantur et ruſtico; interdum ſub divo, interdum ſub papilionibus, commorentur. Tunc demum ad uſum erudi⯑antur armorum: et ſi longior expeditio emer⯑git, in angariis plurimum detinendi ſunt, pro⯑culque habendi a civitatis illecebris: ut eo modo, et corporibus eorum robur accedat, et animis^*."’ The luxury of a great city deſ⯑cends from the higheſt to the loweſt, infecting all ranks of men; and there is little opportunity in it for ſuch exerciſe as renders the body vigor⯑ous [73] and robuſt. This is a phyſical objection againſt a great city: the next regards morality. Virtue is exerted chiefly in reſtraint: vice, in giving freedom to deſire. Moderation and ſelf⯑command form a character the moſt ſuſceptible of virtue: ſuperfluity of animal ſpirits, and love of pleaſure, form a character the moſt liable to vice. Low vices, pilfering for example, or ly⯑ing, draw few or no imitators; but vices that indicate a ſoul above reſtraint, fail not to pro⯑duce admirers. Where a man boldly ſtruggles againſt unlawful reſtraint, he is juſtly applauded and imitated; and the vulgar are not apt to diſ⯑tinguiſh nicely between lawful and unlawful re⯑ſtraint: the boldneſs is viſible, and they pierce no deeper. It is the unruly boy, full of animal ſpirits, who at a public ſchool is admired and imi⯑tated; not the virtuous and modeſt. Vices ac⯑cordingly that ſhow ſpirit, are extremely infec⯑tious; virtue very little. Hence the corrupti⯑on of a great city, which increaſes more and more in proportion to the number of inhabitants. But it is ſufficient here barely to mention that objection; becauſe it has been much inſiſted on in antecedent parts of this work.

The following bad effects are more of a poli⯑tical nature. A great town is a profeſſed enemy to the free circulation of money. The current coin is accumulated in the capital: and diſtant provinces muſt ſink into idleneſs; for without ready money neither arts nor manufactures can flouriſh. Thus we find leſs and leſs activity, in proportion commonly to the diſtance from the capital, and an abſolute torpor in the extremities. It may be obſerved beſide, that as horſes in a great city muſt be provided with provender from a diſtance, the country is robbed of its dung for the benefit of the rich fields round the city. But [74] as manure laid upon poor land is of more advan⯑tage to the farmer than upon what is already highly improved, the depriving diſtant parts of manure is a loſs to the country in general. Nor is this all: The dung of an extenſive city, the bulk of it at leaſt, is ſo remote from the fields to which it muſt be carried, that the expence of carriage ſwallows up the profit.

Another bad effect of accumulating money in the capital is, to raiſe there the price of labour; and the temptation of high wages, making every one flock to the capital, robs the country of its beſt hands. And as they who reſort to the ca⯑pital are commonly young people, who remove as ſoon as they are fit for work, diſtant provin⯑ces are burdened with their maintenance, with⯑out reaping any benefit by their labour.

But of all, the moſt deplorable effect of a great city, is the preventing of population, by ſhortening the lives of its inhabitants. Does a capital ſwell in proportion to the numbers that are drained from the country? Far from it. The air of a populous city is infected by multitudes crouded together; and people there ſeldom make out the uſual time of life. With reſpect to London in particular, the fact is but too well aſcertained. The burials in that immenſe city greatly exceed the births: the difference ſome affirm to be no leſs than ten thouſand yearly: by the moſt moderate computation, not under ſeven or eight thouſand. As London is far from being on the decline, the conſumption of ſo many inhabitants muſt be ſupplied from the country; and the annual ſupply amounts pro⯑bably to a greater number than were needed an⯑nually for recruiting our armies and navies in the late war with France. If ſo, London is a greater enemy to population, than a bloody war [75] would be, ſuppoſing it even to be perpetual. What an enormous tax is Britain thus ſubjected to for ſupporting her capital! The rearing and educating yearly for London 7 or 8000 perſons, require an immenſe ſum.

In Paris, if the bills of mortality can be relied on, the births and burials are nearly equal, be⯑ing each of them about 19,000 yearly; and ac⯑cording to that computation, Paris ſhould need no recruits from the country. But in that city, the bills of mortality cannot be depended on for burials. It is there univerſally the practice of high and low, to have their infants nurſed in the country, till they be three years of age; and conſequently thoſe who die before that age, are not inliſted. What proportion theſe bear to the whole is uncertain. But a gueſs may be made from ſuch as die in London; which are comput⯑ed to be one half of the whole that die^a. Now giving the utmoſt allowance for the healthi⯑neſs of the country above that of a town, Paris children that die in the country before the age of three, cannot be brought ſo low as a third of thoſe that die. On the other hand, the London bills of mortality are leſs to be depended on for births than for burials. None are inliſted but infants baptized by clergymen of the Engliſh church; and the numerous children of Papiſts, Diſſenters, and other ſectaries, are left out of the account. Upon the whole, the difference between the births and burials in Paris and in London, is much leſs than it appears to be on comparing the bills of mortality of theſe two cities.

[76] At the ſame time, giving full allowance for children that are not brought into the London bills of mortality, there is the higheſt probabili⯑ty that a greater number of children are born in Paris than in London; and conſequently that the former requires fewer recruits from the coun⯑try than the latter. In Paris, domeſtic ſervants are encouraged to marry: they are obſerved to be more ſettled than when batchelors, and more attentive to their duty. In London, ſuch mar⯑riages are diſcouraged, as rendering a ſervant more attentive to his own family, than to that of his maſter. But a ſervant attentive to his own family, will not, for his own ſake, neglect that of his maſter. At any rate, is he not more to be depended on, than a ſervant who continues a batchelor? What can be expected of idle and pampered batchelors, but debauchery, and every ſort of corruption? Nothing reſtrains them from abſolute profligacy, but the eye of the maſ⯑ter, who for that reaſon is their averſion not their love. If the poor-laws be named the folio of corruption, batchelor-ſervants in London may well be conſidered as a large appendix. And this attracts the eye to the poor-laws, which indeed make the chief difference between Paris and London, with reſpect to the preſent point. In Paris, certain funds are eſtabliſhed for the poor, the yearly produce of which admits but a limit⯑ed number. As that fund is always pre-occu⯑pied, the low people who are not on the liſt, have little or no proſpect of bread, but from their own induſtry; and to the induſtrious, mar⯑riage is in a great meaſure neceſſary. In Lon⯑don, a pariſh is taxed in proportion to the num⯑ber of its poor; and every perſon who is pleaſed to be idle, is entitled to maintenance. Moſt things thrive by encouragement, and idleneſs [77] above all. Certainty of maintenance, renders the low people in England idle and profligate; eſpecially in London, where luxury prevails, and infects every rank. So inſolent are the London poor, that ſcarce one of them will condeſcend to eat brown bread. There are accordingly in Lon⯑don, a much greater number of idle and profli⯑gate wretches, than in Paris, or in any other town in proportion to the number of inhabitants. Theſe wretches, in Doctor Swift's ſtyle, never think of poſterity, becauſe poſterity never thinks of them: men who hunt after pleaſure, and live from day to day, have no notion of being bur⯑dened with a family. Theſe cauſes produce a greater number of children in Paris than in Lon⯑don; though probably they differ not much in populouſneſs.

I ſhall add but one other objection to a great city, which is not ſlight. An overgrown capi⯑tal, far above a rival, has, by numbers and riches, a diſtreſſing influence in public affairs. The populace are ductile, and eaſily miſled by ambitious and deſigning magiſtrates. Nor are there wanting critical times, in which ſuch ma⯑giſtrates, acquiring artificial influence, may have power to diſturb the public peace. That an overgrown capital may prove dangerous to ſove⯑reignty, has more than once been experienced both in Paris and London.

It would give one the ſpleen, to hear the French and Engliſh zealouſly diſputing about the extent of their capitals, as if the proſperity of their country depended on that circumſtance. To me it appears like one glorying in the king's-evil, or in any contagious diſtemper. Much bet⯑ter employed would they be, in contriving means for leſſening thoſe cities. There is not a politi⯑cal meaſure, that, in my opinion, would tend [78] more to aggrandize the kingdom of France, or of Britain, than to ſplit its capital into ſeveral great towns. My plan would be, to confine the inhabitants of London to 100,000, compoſed of the king and his houſehold, ſupreme courts of juſtice, government-boards, prime nobility and gentry, with neceſſary ſhop-keepers, artiſts, and other dependents. Let the reſt of the inhabitants be diſtributed into nine towns properly ſituated, ſome for internal commerce, ſome for foreign. Such a plan would diffuſe life and vigour through every corner of the iſland.

To execute ſuch a plan, would, I acknow⯑ledge, require the deepeſt political ſkill, and much perſeverance. I ſhall ſuggeſt what occurs at preſent. The firſt ſtep muſt be, to mark proper ſpots for the nine towns, the moſt advan⯑tageous for trade, or for manufactures. If any of theſe ſpots be occupied already with ſmall towns, ſo much the better. The next ſtep is a capitation-tax on the inhabitants of London; the ſum levied to be appropriated for encouraging the new towns. One encouragement would have a good effect; which is, a premium to every man who builds in any of theſe towns, more or leſs, in proportion to the ſize of the houſe. This tax would baniſh from London, every manufacture but of the moſt lucrative kind. When, by this means, the inhabitants of London are reduced to a number not much above 100,000, the near proſpect of being relieved from the tax, will make every houſeholder active to baniſh all above that number: and to prevent a renewal of the tax, a greater number will never again be per⯑mitted. It would require great penetration to proportion the ſums to be levied and diſtributed, ſo as to have their proper effect, without over⯑burdening [79] the capital on the one hand, or giving too great encouragement for building on the other, which might tempt people to build for the premium merely, without any further view. Much will depend on an advantageous ſituation: houſes built there will always find inhabitants.

The two great cities of London and Weſtmin⯑ſter are extremely ill fitted for local union. The latter, the ſeat of government and of the nobleſſe, infects the former with luxury and with love of ſhow. The former, the ſeat of commerce, infects the latter with love of gain. The mixture of theſe oppoſite paſſions, is productive of every groveling vice.

SKETCH XII.
Origin and Progreſs of AMERICAN NATIONS.

HAVING no authentic materials for a natural hiſtory of all the Americans, the following obſervations ſhall be confined to a few tribes, the beſt known; and to the kingdoms of Peru and Mexico, as they were at the date of the Spaniſh conqueſt.

As there appears no paſſage by land to America from the old world, no problem has more embar⯑raſſed the learned, than to give an account from whence the Americans ſprang: there are as many different opinions, as there are writers. Many attempts have been made for diſcovering a paſſage by land; but hitherto in vain. Kamſkatka, it is true, is divided from America by a narrow ſtrait, full of iſlands: and M. Buffon, to render the paſſage ſtill more eaſy than by ſea, conjectures, that thereabout there may formerly have been a land-paſſage, though now waſhed away by vio⯑lence of the ocean. There is indeed great ap⯑pearance of truth in this conjecture; as all the [81] quadrupeds of the north of Aſia ſeem to have made their way to America; the bear, for ex⯑ample, the roe, the deer, the rain-deer, the beaver, the wolf, the fox, the hare, the rat, the mole. He admits that in America there is not to be ſeen a lion, a tiger, a panther, or any other Aſiatic quadruped of a hot climate: not, ſays he, for want of a land-paſſage; but becauſe the cold climate of Tartary, in which ſuch ani⯑mals cannot ſubſiſt, is an effectual bar againſt them^*.

But in my apprehenſion, much more is required to give ſatisfaction upon this ſubject, than a paſ⯑ſage from Kamſkatka to America, whether by land or ſea. An enquiry much more deciſive is totally overlooked, relative to the people on the two ſides of the ſtreight; particularly, whether they ſpeak the ſame language. Now by late ac⯑counts from Ruſſia we are informed, that there is no affinity between the Kamſkatkan tongue, and that of the Americans on the oppoſite ſide of the ſtreight. Whence we may conclude with great certainty, that the latter are not a colony of the former.

But I go farther. There are ſeveral cogent ar⯑guments to evince, that the Americans are not deſcended from any people in the north of Aſia or in the north of Europe. Were they deſcended from either, Labrador, or the adjacent countries, [82] muſt have been firſt peopled. And as ſavages are remarkably fond of their natal ſoil, they would have continued there, till by over-population they ſhould have been compelled to ſpread wider for food. But the fact is directly contrary. When America was diſcovered by the Spaniards, Mexico and Peru were fully peopled; and the other parts leſs and leſs, in proportion to their diſtance from theſe central countries. Fabry reports, that one may travel one or two hundred leagues north-weſt from the Miſſiſippi, without ſeeing a human face, or any veſtige of a houſe. And ſome French officers ſay, that they travelled more than a hundred leagues from the delicious country watered by the Ohio, through Louiſiana, without meeting a ſingle family of ſavages. Labrador is very thin of inhabitants; no people having been diſcovered in it, but the Eſquimaux, a very ſmall tribe. And as that tribe has plenty of food at home, there is no appearance, that they ever ſent a colony to any other part of America. The civilization of the Mexicans and Peruvians, as well as their populouſneſs, make it extremely probable that they were the firſt inhabitants of America. In travelling northward, the people are more and more ignorant and ſavage: the Eſquimaux, the moſt northern of all, are the moſt ſavage. In travelling ſouthward, the Pa⯑tagonians, the moſt ſouthern of all, are ſo ſtupid as to go naked in a bitter cold region.

I venture ſtill farther; which is, to conjecture, that America has not bee peopled from any part of the old world. The external appearance of the inhabitants, makes this conjecture approach to a certainty; as that appearance differs widely from the appearance of any other known people. Excepting the eye-laſhes, eye-brows, and hair of [83] the head, which is invariably jet black, there is not a ſingle hair on the body of any American▪ not the leaſt appearance of a beard. Another diſtinguiſhing mark is their copper-colour, uni⯑formly the ſame in all climates, hot and cold; and differing from the colour of all other nations. Ulloa remarks, that the Americans of Cape Breton, reſemble the Peruvians in complexion, in manners, and in cuſtoms; the only viſible dif⯑ference being, that the former are of a larger ſtature. A third circumſtance no leſs diſtinguiſh⯑ing is, that American children are born with down upon the ſkin, which diſappears the eighth or ninth day, and never grows again. Children of the old world are born with ſkins ſmooth and poliſhed, and no down appears till pu⯑berty.

That the original inhabitants of America are a race diſtinct from all others, I once thought de⯑monſtrable from ſome reports concerning the Eſquimaux. The author of the hiſtory of New France, and ſeveral other writers report, that the Eſquimaux are bold, miſchievous, ſuſpicious, and untamable; that it is not even ſafe to con⯑verſe with them but at a diſtance; that no European ſkin is whiter; and that they are beard⯑ed up to the eyes. Suppoſing theſe facts to be true, had I not reaſon to believe, that the Eſqui⯑maux muſt have ſprung from ſome nation in the north of Europe or Aſia, though I could not pretend to ſay, whether the tranſmigration was by land or ſea? From the ſame facts, however, I was forced to conclude, that the reſt of the Americans could not have had the ſame origin: for if the Canadians or any other American na⯑tion were of Aſiatic or European extraction, they muſt, like the Eſquimaux, have had a [84] beard and white ſkin to this day. But one cannot be too cautious in giving faith to odd or ſingular facts, reported of diſtant nations. It is diſcovered by later accounts more worthy of credit, that the foregoing deſcription of the Eſquimaux is falſe in every particular. Of all the northern nations, not excepting the Lap⯑landers, the Eſquimaux are of the ſmalleſt ſize, few of them exceeding four feet in height. They have heads extremely groſs, feet and hands very ſmall. That they are neither cruel nor ſuſpicious, appears from what Ellis ſays in his account of a voyage anno 1747, for diſ⯑covering a north-weſt paſſage, that they offer⯑ed their wives to the Engliſh ſailors, with ex⯑preſſions of ſatisfaction for being able to ac⯑commodate them. But what is the moſt to the preſent purpoſe; they are of a copper colour, like the other Americans, only a degree lighter, occaſioned probably by the intenſe cold of their climate; and they are alſo altogether deſtitute of a beard. It is common indeed among them, to bring forward the hair of the head upon the face, for preſerving it from flies, which rage in that country during ſummer; an appearance that probably has been miſtaken by travellers for a beard.

It has been lately diſcovered, that the lan⯑guage of the Eſquimaux is the ſame with that of the Greenlanders. A Daniſh miſſionary, who by ſome years reſidence in Greenland had acqui⯑red the language of that country, made a voy⯑age with Commodore Paliſer to Newfoundland ann. 1764. Meeting a company of about two hundred Eſquimaux, he was agreeably ſurpriſed to hear the Greenland tongue. They received him kindly, and drew from him a promiſe to re⯑turn [85] the next year. And we are informed by Crantz, in his hiſtory of Greenland, that the ſame Daniſh miſſionary viſited them the very next year, in company with the Rev. Mr. Dra⯑chart. They agreed, that the difference be⯑tween the Eſquimaux language and that of Greenland was not greater than between the dia⯑lects of North and South Greenland, which dif⯑fer not ſo much as the High and Low Dutch. Both nations call themſelves Innuit or Karalit, and call the Europeans Kablunet. Their ſtature, features, manners, dreſs, tents, darts, and boats, are entirely the ſame. As the language of Greenland reſembles not the language of Fin⯑land, Lapland, Norway, Tartary, nor that of the Samoides, it is evident, that neither the Eſquimaux nor Greenlanders are a colony from any of the countries mentioned. Geographers begin now to conjecture, that Greenland is a part of the continent of North America, without intervention of any ſea^*. One thing is certain, that the Greenlanders reſemble the North-Ame⯑ricans in every particular: they are of a copper colour, and have no beard; they are of a ſmall ſize, like the Eſquimaux, and have the ſame language. And thus I am obliged to abandon my favourite argument, for proving the Ameri⯑cans, the Eſquimaux excepted, to be indigenous, and not indebted to the old world for their exiſt⯑ence. At the ſame time, the other arguments urged above remain entire; and from what is now [86] ſaid a circumſtance occurs, that fortifies greatly the chief of them. People, who with a bold face ſurmount all difficulties rather than give up a favourite opinion, make light of the copper co⯑lour and want of beard, willing to attribute all to the climate. We want data, I acknowledge, to determine with accuracy what effects can be pro⯑duced by a climate. But luckily we have no oc⯑caſion at preſent to determine that difficult point. It is ſufficient that the climate of Labrador is much the ſame with that of the northern parts of Europe and Aſia. From that circumſtance I conclude with certainty, that the copper colour and want of beard in the Eſquimaux cannot be the reſult of climate. And if ſo, what foundation can there be for making theſe circumſtances de⯑pend on the climate in any other part of Ameri⯑ca? Truly none at all. I add, that as the cop⯑per colour and want of beard continue invariably the ſame in every variety of climate, hot and cold, moiſt and dry, they muſt depend on ſome invariable cauſe acting uniformly; which may be a ſingularity in the race of people^a, but cannot proceed from the climate.

If we can rely on the conjectures of an eminent writer^b, America emerged from the ſea later than any other part of the known world: and ſuppoſing the human race to have been planted in America by the hand of God later than the days of Moſes, Adam and Eve might have been the firſt parents of mankind, i. e. of all who at that time exiſted, without being the firſt parents of the Americans.

[87] The Terra Auſtralis incognita is ſeparated from the reſt of the world by a wide ocean, which carries a ſhip round the earth without interrup⯑tion. How has that continent been peopled? There is not the ſlighteſt probability, that it ever has been joined to any other land. Here a local creation, if it may be termed ſo, appears una⯑voidable; and if we muſt admit more than one act of creation, even the appearance of difficulty, from reiteration of acts, totally vaniſheth. M. Buffon, in his natural hiſtory, bears teſtimony, that not a ſingle American quadruped of a hot cli⯑mate is found in any other part of the earth: with reſpect to theſe we muſt unavoidably admit a local creation; and nothing ſeems more natural, than under the ſame act to comprehend the firſt parents of the American people.

It is poſſible, indeed, that a ſhip with men and women may, by contrary winds, be carried to a very diſtant ſhore. But to account thus for the peopling of America, will not be much reliſhed: Mexico and Peru muſt have been planted before navigation was known in the old world, at leaſt before a ſhip was brought to ſuch perfection as to bear a long courſe of bad weather. Will it be thought, that any ſuppoſition ought to be embra⯑ced, however improbable, rather than admit a ſeparate creation? We are, it is true, much in the dark as to the conduct of creative Provi⯑dence; but every rational conjecture leans to a ſeparate creation. America and the Terra Au⯑ſtralis muſt have been planted by the Almighty with a number of animals and vegetables, ſome of them peculiar to thoſe vaſt continents: and when ſuch care has been taken about inferior life, can ſo wild a thought be admitted, as that man, the nobleſt work of terreſtrial creation, would be left to chance? But it is ſcarce neceſſary to inſiſt [88] upon this topic, as the external characters of the Americans above mentioned reject the ſuppoſition of their being deſcended from any people of the old world.

It is highly probable, that the fertile and de⯑licious plains of Peru and Mexico were the firſt planted of all the American countries; being more populous at the time of the Spaniſh invaſion than any other part of that great continent. This conjecture is ſupported by analogy: we believe that a ſpot, not centrical only, but extremely fertile, was choſen for the parents of the old world; and there is not in America a ſpot more centrical, or more fertile, than Mexico or Peru, for the parents of the new world.

Having thus ventured to throw out what oc⯑curred upon the origin of the Americans, with⯑out pretending to affirm any thing as certain, we proceed to their progreſs. The North-American tribes are remarkable with reſpect to one branch of their hiſtory, that, inſtead of advancing, like other nations, toward the maturity of ſociety and government, they continue to this hour in their original ſtate of hunting and fiſhing. A caſe ſo ſingular rouſes our curioſity; and we wiſh to be made acquainted with the cauſe.

It is not the want of animals capable to be do⯑meſticated, that obliges them to remain hunters and fiſhers. The horſe, it is true, the ſheep, the goat, were imported from Europe; but there are plenty of American quadrupeds no leſs docile than thoſe mentioned. There is, in particular, a ſpecies of horned cattle peculiar to America, having long wool inſtead of hair, and an excre⯑ſcence upon the ſhoulder like that of the Eaſt-In⯑dia buffalo. Theſe wild cattle multiply exceed⯑ingly in the fertile countries which the Miſſiſippi traverſes; and Hennepin reports, that the Indi⯑ans, [89] after killing numbers, take no part away but the tongue, which is reckoned a delicious morſel. Theſe creatures are not extremely wild; and, if taken young, are eaſily tamed: a calf, when its dam is killed, will follow the hunter and lick his hand. The wool, the hide, the tallow, would be of great value in the Britiſh colonies.

If the ſhepherd-ſtate be not obſtructed in America by want of proper cattle, the only ac⯑count that can or need be given is, paucity of in⯑habitants. Conſider only the influence of cuſtom, in rivetting men to their local ſituation and man⯑ner of life: once hunters, they will always be hunters, till ſome cauſe more potent than cuſtom force them out of that ſtate. Want of food, oc⯑caſioned by rapid population, brought on the ſhepherd-ſtate in the old world. That cauſe has not hitherto taken place in North America: the inhabitants, few in number, remain hunters and fiſhers, becauſe that ſtate affords them a compe⯑tency of food. I am aware, that the natives have been decreaſing in number from the time of the firſt European ſettlements. But even at that time the country was ill peopled: take for exam⯑ple the country above deſcribed, ſtretching north⯑weſt from the Miſſiſippi: the Europeans never had any footing there, and yet to this day it is little better than a deſert. I give other exam⯑ples. The Indians who ſurround the lake Nippi⯑ſong, from whence the river St. Laurence iſſues, are in whole but five or ſix thouſand; and yet their country is of great extent: they live by hunting and fiſhing, having bows and arrows, but no fire-arms; and their cloathing is the ſkins of beaſts: they are ſeldom, if ever, engaged in war; have no commerce with any other people, Indian or European, but live as if they had a [90] world to themſelves^a. If that country be ill peopled, it is not from ſcarcity of food; for the country is extenſive, and well ſtored with every ſort of game. On the ſouth and weſt of the lake Superior, the country is level and fruitful all the way to the Miſſiſippi, having large plains co⯑vered with rank graſs, and ſcarce a tree for hundreds of miles: the inhabitants enjoy the grea⯑teſt plenty of fiſh, fowl, deer, &c.; and yet their numbers are far from being in proportion to their means of ſubſiſtence. In ſhort, it is the conjecture of the ableſt writers, that in the vaſt extent of North America, when diſcovered, there were not as many people, laying aſide Mex⯑ico, as in the half of Europe.

Paucity of inhabitants explains clearly why the North-American tribes remain hunters and fiſh⯑ers, without advancing to the ſhepherd-ſtate. But if the foregoing difficulty be removed, an⯑other ſtarts up, no leſs puzzling, viz. By what adverſe fate are ſo rich countries ſo ill peopled? It is a conjecture of M. Buffon, mentioned above, that America has been planted later than the other parts of this globe. But ſuppoſing the fact, it has however not been planted ſo late as to prevent a great population, witneſs Mexico and Peru, fully peopled at the aera of the Spaniſh in⯑vaſion. We muſt therefore ſearch for another cauſe; and none occurs but the infecundity of the North-American ſavages. M. Buffon, a re⯑ſpectable author, and for that reaſon often quo⯑ted, remarks, that theſe ſavages are feeble in their organs of generation, that they have no ar⯑dor for the female ſex, and that they have few children; to enforce which remark he adds, that [91] the quadrupeds of America, both native and tran⯑ſplanted, are of a diminutive ſize, compared with thoſe of the old world. A woman never ad⯑mits her huſband, till the child ſhe is nurſing be three years old; and this led Frenchmen to go often aſtray from their Canadian wives. The caſe was reported by the prieſts to their ſuperiors in France; but what order was taken has eſcaped my memory. Among the males, it is an invio⯑lable law, to abſtain from females while they are engaged in a military expedition. This is preg⯑nant evidence of their frigidity; for among ſava⯑ges the authority of law, or of opinion, ſeldom prevails over any ſtrong appetite: vain would be the attempt to reſtrain them from ſpirituous li⯑quors, tho' much more debilitating. Neither is there any inſtance, of violence offered by any North-American ſavage, to European women taken captives in war.

Mexico and Peru, when conquered by the Spaniards, afforded to their numerous inhabitants the neceſſaries of life in profuſion. Cotton was in plenty, more than ſufficient for the cloathing needed in warm climates: Indian wheat was uni⯑verſal, and was cultivated without much labour. The natural wants of the inhabitants were thus ſupplied with very little trouble; and artificial wants had made no progreſs. But the preſent ſtate of theſe countries is very different. The Indians have learned from their conquerors a mul⯑titude of artificial wants, good houſes, variety of food, and rich cloaths, which muſt be imported, becauſe not manufactured at home. They are prohibited from exerciſing any art or calling ex⯑cept agriculture, which ſcarce affords them ne⯑ceſſaries; and this obliges a great proportion of them to live ſingle. Even agriculture itſelf is cramped; for in moſt of the provinces there is a [92] prohibition to plant vines or olives. In ſhort, it is believed that the inhabitants who exiſted at the Spaniſh invaſion are reduced to a fourth part. The ſavages alſo of North-America who border on the European ſettlements are viſibly diminiſh⯑ing. When the Engliſh ſettled in America, the five nations could raiſe 15,000 fighting men: at preſent they are not able to raiſe 2000. Upon the whole it is computed by able writers, that the preſent inhabitants of America amount not to a twentieth part of thoſe who exiſted when that continent was diſcovered by Columbus. This decay is aſcribed to the intemperate uſe of ſpirits, and to the ſmall-pox, both of them introduced by the Europeans^*.

[93] It is obſervable, that every ſort of plague becomes more virulent when tranſplanted, than in its na⯑tive place. The plague commits leſs ravage in Egypt, its native place, than in any other coun⯑try. The venereal diſeaſe was for many ages more violent and deſtructive in Europe, than ever it was in America, where it was firſt known. The people who ſailed with Chriſtopher Colum⯑bus, brought it to Spain from Hiſpaniola. Co⯑lumbus, with thirty or forty of his ſailors, went directly to Barcelona, where the King then was, to render an account of his voyage. All the in⯑habitants, who at that time tripled the pre⯑ſent number, were immediately ſeized with the venereal diſeaſe, which raged ſo furiouſly as to threaten deſtruction to all. The ſmall pox comes under the ſame obſervation; for it has ſwept away many more in America, than ever it did in Europe. In the year 1713, the crew of a Dutch veſſel infected the Hottentots with the ſmall pox; which left ſcarce a third of the inhabi⯑tants. And the ſame fate befel the Laplanders and Greenlanders. In all appearance, that diſ⯑eaſe, if it abate not ſoon of its tranſplanted vi⯑rulence, will extirpate the natives of North Ame⯑rica; for they know little of inoculation.

But ſpirituous liquors are a ſtill more effectual cauſe of depopulation. The American ſavages, male and female, are inordinately fond of ſpiritu⯑ous liquors; and ſavages generally abandon them⯑ſelves to appetite, without the leaſt control from ſhame. The noxious effects of intemperance in ſpirits, are too well known, from fatal experi⯑ence among ourſelves: before the uſe of gin was prohibited, the populace of London were debi⯑litated by it to a degree of loſing, in a great mea⯑ſure, the power of procreation. Happily for the human ſpecies, the invention of ſavages ne⯑ver [94] reached the production of gin; for ſpirits in that early period would have left not one perſon alive, not a ſingle Noah to reſtore the race of men: in order to accompliſh the plan of Provi⯑dence, creation muſt have been renewed oftener than once^*.

In the temperate climates of the old world, there is great uniformity in the gradual progreſs of men from the ſavage ſtate to the higheſt civi⯑lization; beginning with hunting and fiſhing, advancing to flocks and herds, and thereafter to agriculture and commerce. One would be much diſappointed if he expected the ſame progreſs in America. Among the northern tribes, there is nothing that reſembles the ſhepherd-ſtate: they continue hunters and fiſhers as originally; be⯑cauſe there is no cauſe ſo potent as to force them from that ſtate to become ſhepherds. So far clear. But there is another fact of which we have no example in the old world, that ſeems not ſo eaſily explained; theſe people, without paſſing through the ſhepherd-ſtate, have advan⯑ced to ſome degree of agriculture. Before the ſeventeenth century, the Iroquois, or five nati⯑ons, had villages, and cultivated Indian corn: the Cherokees have many ſmall towns; they raiſe corn in abundance, and fence in their fields: they breed poultry, and have orchards of peach⯑trees: The Chickeſaws and Creek Indians live [95] pretty much in the ſame manner. The Apala⯑chites ſow and reap in common; and put up the corn in granaries, to be diſtrubuted among in⯑dividuals when they want food. The Hurons raiſe great quantities of corn, not only for their own uſe, but for commerce. Many of theſe na⯑tions, particularly the Cherokees, have of late got horſes, ſwine, and tame cattle; an improve⯑ment borrowed from the Europeans. But corn is of an early date: when Sir Richard Greenville took poſſeſſion of Virginia in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the natives had corn; and Hennepin aſſures us, that the nations bordering on the Miſ⯑ſiſippi had corn long before they were viſited by any European. Huſbandry, it is true, is among thoſe people ſtill in its infancy; being left to the women, who ſow, who reap, who ſtore up in public granaries, and who diſtribute as need re⯑quires. The inhabitants of Guiana in South America, continue to this day hunters and fiſh⯑ers. But though they have neither flocks nor herds, they have ſome huſbandry; for the wo⯑men plant caſſava, yams, and plantains. They make a liquor, like our ale, termed piworee, which they drink with their food. And though they are extremely fond of that liquor, their indolence makes them often neglect to provide againſt want. To a people having a violent pro⯑penſity to intemperance, as all ſavages have, this improvidence is a bleſſing; for otherwiſe they would wallow in perpetual drunkenneſs. They are by no means ſingular; for unconcern about futurity is the characteriſtic of all ſavages. To forego an immediate for a diſtant enjoyment, can only be ſuggeſted by cultivated reaſon. When the Canary Iſlands were firſt viſited by the Eu⯑ropeans, which was in the fourteenth century, the inhabitants bad corn; for which the ground [96] was prepared in the following manner. They had a wooden inſtrument, not unlike a hoe, with a ſpur or tooth at the end, on which was fixed a goat's horn. With this inſtrument the ground was ſtirred; and if rain came not in its proper ſeaſon, water was brought by canals from the ri⯑vulets. It was the womens province to reap the corn: they took only the ears; which they threſhed with ſticks, or beat with their feet, and then winnowed in their hands. Huſbandry pro⯑bably will remain in its preſent ſtate among American ſavages; for as they are decreaſing daily, they can have no difficulty about food. The fact however is ſingular, of a people uſing corn before tame cattle: there muſt be a cauſe, which, on better acquaintance with that people, will probably be diſcovered.

America is full of political wonders. At the time of the Spaniſh invaſion, the Mexicans and Peruvians had made great advances toward the perfection of ſociety, while the northern tribes, ſeparated from them by diſtance only, remained in the original ſtate of hunters and fiſhers, and remain ſo at this day. To explain the difference, appears difficult. It is ſtill more difficult to ex⯑plain, why the Mexicans and Peruvians, in⯑habitants of the torrid zone, were highly poliſh⯑ed in the arts of ſociety and government; con⯑ſidering that in the old world, the inhabitants of the torrid zone are, for the moſt part, little better than ſavages. We are not ſufficiently ac⯑quainted with the natural hiſtory of America, nor with that of its people, to attempt an ex⯑planation of theſe wonders: it is however part of our taſk, to ſtate the progreſs of ſociety among the Mexicans and Peruvians; which cannot fail to amuſe the reader, as he will find theſe two na⯑tions differing eſſentially from the North-Ameri⯑can [97] tribes, in every article of manners, govern⯑ment, and police.

When the Spaniards invaded America, the Mexicans were ſkilful in agriculture. Maize was their chief grain, which, by careful culture, produced great plenty, even in the mountainous country of Tlaſcalla. They had gardening and botany, as well as agriculture: a phyſic-garden belonging to the Emperor was open to every one for gathering medicinal plants.

The art of cookery was far advanced among that people. Montezuma's table was generally covered with 200 diſhes, many of them exqui⯑ſitely dreſſed in the opinion even of the Spaniards. They uſed ſalt, which was made by the ſun.

The women were dexterous at ſpinning; and manufactures of cotton and hair abounded every where.

The populouſneſs of Mexico and Peru afford irrefragable evidence, that the arts of peace were there carried to a great height. The city of Mexico contained 60,000 families^*; and Mon⯑tezuma had thirty vaſſals who could bring into the field, each of them, 100,000 fighting men. Tlaſcalla, a neighbouring republic, governed by a ſenate, was ſo populous as to be almoſt a match for the Emperor of Mexico.

The public edifices in the city of Mexico, and houſes of the nobility, were of ſtone, and well built. The royal palace had thirty gates [98] opening to as many ſtreets. The principal front was of jaſper, black, red, and white, well po⯑liſhed. Three ſquares, built and adorned like the front, led to Montezuma's apartment, hav⯑ing large rooms, floors covered with mats of dif⯑ferent kinds, walls hung with a mixture of cot⯑ton-cloth and rabbit-furs; the innermoſt room adorned with hangings of feathers, beautified with various figures in lively colours. In that building, large ceilings were formed ſo artifici⯑ally without nails, as to make the planks ſuſtain each other. Water was brought into the city of Mexico, from a mountain at a league's diſtance.

Gold and ſilver were in ſo high eſteem, that veſſels made of theſe metals were permitted to none but to the Emperor. Conſidering the value put upon gold and ſilver, the want of current coin would argue great dulneſs in that nation, if inſtances did not daily occur of improvements, after being carried to a conſiderable height, ſtop⯑ping ſhort at the very threſhold of perfection. The want of current coin made fairs the more neceſſary, which were carried on with the moſt perfect regularity: judges on the ſpot decided mercantile differences; and inferior officers, making conſtant circuits, preſerved peace and order. The abundance and variety of the com⯑modities brought to market, and the order pre⯑ſerved by ſuch multitudes, amazed the Spani⯑ards; a ſpectacle deſerving admiration, as a teſ⯑timony of the grandeur and good government of that extenſive empire.

The fine arts were not unknown in Mexico. Their goldſmiths were excellent workmen, par⯑ticularly in moulding gold and ſilver into the form of animals. Their painters made land⯑ſcapes and other imitations of nature with fea⯑thers, ſo artfully mixed as to beſtow both life [99] and colouring; of which ſort of work, there were inſtances no leſs extraordinary for pati⯑ence than for ſkill. Their drinking-cups were of the fineſt earth exquiſitely made, differing from each other in colour, and even in ſmell. Of the ſame materials, they made great variety of veſſels both for uſe and ornament.

They were not ignorant either of muſic or of poetry; and one of their capital amuſements was ſongs ſet to muſic upon the atchievements of their kings and anceſtors.

With ſuch a progreſs both in the uſeful and fine arts, is it not ſurpriſing, that though they had meaſures, they knew nothing of weights?

As to the art of writing, a capital article in the conduct of government, they were extreme⯑ly deficient. That art, as mentioned above, was no farther advanced than the uſing figures com⯑poſed of painted feathers, by which they made a ſhift to communicate ſome ſimple thoughts; and in that manner was Montezuma informed of the Spaniſh invaſion.

There was great ingenuity ſhewn in regulating the calendar: the Mexican year was divided into 365 days; and into 18 months, containing 20 days each, which made 360; the remaining five intercalary days were added at the end of the year, for making it correſpond to the courſe of the ſun. They religiouſly employed theſe five days upon diverſions, being of opinion that they were appropriated to that end by their anceſtors.

Murder, theft, and corruption in officers of ſtate, were capital crimes. Adultery alſo was capital; for female chaſtity was in high eſtima⯑tion. At the ſame time, conſent was deem⯑ed a ſufficient cauſe of divorce, the law leaving it to the parties concerned, who ought to be the [100] beſt judges. In caſe of a divorce, the father took care of the male children, leaving the fe⯑male children with the mother. But to prevent raſh ſeparations, it was capital for them to unite again.

It may be gathered from what has been ſaid, that there was a diſtinction of rank among the Mexicans. So religiouſly was it obſerved, as to be diſplayed even in their buildings: the city of Mexico was divided into two parts, one appro⯑priated to the Emperor and nobility, and one left to plebeians.

Education of children was an important article in the Mexican police. Public ſchools were al⯑lotted for plebeian children; and colleges well endowed for the ſons of the nobility, where they continued till they were fit for buſineſs. The maſters were conſidered as officers of ſtate; not without reaſon, as their office was to qualify young men for ſerving their king and country. Such of the young nobles as made choice of a military life, were ſent to the army, and made to ſuffer great hardſhips before they could be inliſt⯑ed. They had indeed a powerful motive for perſeverance, the moſt honourable of all em⯑ployments being that of a ſoldier. Young wo⯑men of quality were educated with no leſs care, by proper matrons choſen with the utmoſt cir⯑cumſpection.

As hereditary nobility, eſpecially in an exten⯑ſive empire, leads to monarchy, the government of Mexico was monarchichal; and as the pro⯑greſs of monarchy is from being elective to be hereditary, Mexico had advanced no farther than to be an elective monarchy, of which Montezu⯑ma was the eleventh king. It would in time have become hereditary, had it not been ſubdued by [101] the Spaniards. And it was an example of an elective monarchy that approaches the neareſt to hereditary; for the power of election, as well as the privilege of being elected, were confined to the princes of the blood royal. As a talent for war was chiefly regarded in chuſing a ſucceſſor to the throne, the Mexican kings always command⯑ed their own armies. The Emperor-elect, be⯑fore his coronation, was obliged to make ſome conqueſt, or perform ſome warlike exploit; a cuſtom that ſupported the military ſpirit, and en⯑larged the kingdom. From every king was ex⯑acted a coronation-oath, to adhere to the religi⯑on of his anceſtors, to maintain the laws and cuſtoms of the empire, and to be a father to his people.

The various affairs of government were diſtri⯑buted among different boards with great proprie⯑ty. The management of the royal patrimony was allotted to one board; appeals from inferior tribunals, to another; the levying of troops, and the providing of magazines, to a third: matters of ſupreme importance were reſerved to a coun⯑cil of ſtate, held generally in the king's preſence. Theſe boards, all of them, were compoſed of men experienced in the arts of war and of peace: the council of ſtate was compoſed of thoſe who elected the Emperor.

Concerning the patrimony of the crown, mines of gold and ſilver belonged to the Emperor; and the duty on ſalt brought in a great revenue. But the capital duty was, a third of the land-rents, the eſtates of the nobles excepted; upon whom no tribute was impoſed, but to ſerve in the army with a number of their vaſſals, and to guard the Emperor's perſon. Goods manufactured and ſold were ſubjected to a duty; which was not preju⯑dicial [102] to their manufactures, becauſe there was no rival nation within reach.

Montezuma introduced a multitude of ceremo⯑nies into his court, tending to inſpire veneration for his perſon; an excellent policy in rude times, of however little ſignificancy among nations en⯑lightened and rational. Veneration and humility were ſo much the tone of the court, that it was even thought indecent in the Mexican lords, to appear before the King in their richeſt habits. Veſſels of gold and ſilver were appropriated to his table, and not permitted even to the princes of the blood. The table-cloths and napkins, made of the fineſt cotton, with the earthen ware, ne⯑ver made a ſecond appearance at the Emperor's table, but were diſtributed among the ſervants.

In war, their offenſive weapons were bows and arrows; and as iron was not known in America, their arrows were headed with bones ſharpened at the point. They uſed alſo darts, and long wooden ſwords, in which were fixed ſharp flints; and men of more than ordinary ſtrength fought with clubs. They beſide had ſlingers, who threw ſtones with great force and dexterity. Their defenſive arms, uſed only by commanders and perſons of diſtinction, were a coat of quilted cotton, a ſort of breaſt-plate, and a ſhield of wood or tortoiſe-ſhell, adorned with plates of ſuch metal as they could procure. The private men ſought naked; their faces and bodies being deformed with paint, in order to terrify the ene⯑my. They had warlike inſtruments of muſic, ſuch as ſea-ſhells, flutes made of large canes, and a ſort of drum made of the trunk of a tree hollowed. Their battalions conſiſted of great numbers crouded together, without even the ap⯑pearance of order. They attacked with fury, and terrible outcries, in order to intimidate the [103] enemy; a practice prompted by nature, and for⯑merly uſed by many nations. It was not deſpiſed even by the Romans; for Cato the elder was wont to ſay, that he had obtained more victories by the throats of his ſoldiers, than by their ſwords; and Caeſar applauds his own ſoldiers, above thoſe of Pompey, for their warlike ſhouts. Eagerneſs to engage is vented in loud cries: and the effects are excellent: they redouble the ardor of thoſe who attack, at the ſame time that they ſtrike terror into the enemy.

Their armies were formed with eaſe: the prin⯑ces of the empire, with the cacics or governors of provinces, were obliged to repair to the general rendezvous, each with his quota of men.

Their fortifications were trunks of large trees, fixed in the ground like palliſades, leaving no in⯑tervals but what were barely ſufficient for diſ⯑charging their arrows upon the enemy.

Military orders were inſtituted, with peculiar habits, as marks of diſtinction and honour; and each cavalier bore the device of his order, paint⯑ed upon his robe, or fixed to it. Montezuma founded a new order of knighthood, into which princes only were admitted, or nobles deſcended from the royal ſtock; and as a token of its ſupe⯑riority, he became one of its members. The knights of that order had part of their hair bound with a red ribbon, to which a taſſel was fixed hanging down to the ſhoulder. Every new ex⯑ploit was honoured with an additional taſſel; which made the knights with ardor embrace eve⯑ry opportunity to ſignalize themſelves. As no⯑thing can be better contrived than ſuch a regula⯑tion for ſupporting a military ſpirit, the Mexi⯑cans would have been invincible had they under⯑ſtood the order of battle: for want of which that potent empire fell a prey to a handful of ſtrangers. [104] I differ from thoſe who aſcribe that event to the fire-arms of the Spaniards, and to their horſes. Theſe could not be more terrible to the Mexi⯑cans, than elephants were at firſt to the Romans: but familiarity with theſe unwieldy animals, re⯑ſtored to the Romans their wonted courage; and the Mexicans probably would have behaved like the Romans, had they equalled the Romans in the art of war.

When that illuſtrious people, by their own ge⯑nius, without borrowing from others, had made ſuch proficiency in the arts of peace, as well as of war; is it not ſtrange, that with reſpect to religion they were no better than ſavages? They not only practiſed human ſacrifices, but dreſſed and eat the fleſh of thoſe that were ſacrificed. Their great temple was contrived to raiſe horror: upon the walls were multiplied the figures of nox⯑ious ſerpents: the heads of perſons ſacrificed were ſtuck up in different places, and carefully renewed when waſted by time. There were eight temples in the city, nearly of the ſame ar⯑chitecture; 2000 of a ſmaller ſize, dedicated to different idols; ſcarce a ſtreet without a tutelar deity; nor a calamity that had not an altar, to which the diſtreſſed might have recourſe for a re⯑medy. Unparallelled ignorance and ſtupidity, obliged every Emperor, at his coronation, to ſwear, that there ſhould be no unſeaſonable rains, no overflowing of rivers, no fields affected with ſterility, nor any man hurt with the bad influen⯑ces of the ſun. In ſhort, it was a ſlaviſh religi⯑on, built upon fear, not love. At the ſame time, they believed the immortality of the ſoul, and rewards and puniſhments in a future ſtate; which made them bury with their dead, quanti⯑ties of gold and ſilver, for defraying the expence of their journey; and alſo made them put to [105] death ſome of their ſervants to attend them. Women ſometimes, actuated with the ſame be⯑lief, were authors of their own death, in order to accompany their huſbands.

The author that we muſt chiefly rely on for an account of Peru is Garcilaſſo de la Vega: tho' he may be juſtly ſuſpected of partiality; for being of the Inca race, he beſtows on the Peruvian go⯑vernment, improvements of later times. The ar⯑ticles that appear the leaſt ſuſpicious are what fol⯑low.

The principle of the Peruvian conſtitution ſeems to have been an Agrarian law, of the ſtrict⯑eſt kind. To the ſovereign was firſt allotted a large proportion of land, for defraying the ex⯑pences of government; and the remainder was divided among his ſubjects in proportion to the number of each family. Theſe portions were not alienable: the ſovereign was held proprietor of the whole, as in the feudal ſyſtem; and from time to time the diſtribution was varied according to the circumſtances of families. This Agrarian law contributed undoubtedly to the populouſneſs of the kingdom of Peru.

It is a ſure ſign of improved agriculture, that aqueducts were made by the Peruvians for wa⯑tering their land. Their plough was of wood, a yard long, flat before, round behind, and point⯑ed at the end for piercing the ground. Agricul⯑ture ſeems to have been carried on by united la⯑bour: lands appropriated for maintaining the poor were firſt ploughed; next the portion al⯑lotted to ſoldiers performing duty in the field: then every man ſeparately ploughed his own field; after which he aſſiſted his neighbour: they pro⯑ceeded to the portion of the curaca or lord: and laſtly to the King's portion. In the month of [106] March they reaped their maize, and celebrated the harveſt with joy and feaſting.

There being no artiſt nor manufacturer by profeſſion, individuals were taught to do every thing for themſelves. Every one knew how to plough and manure the land: every one was a carpenter, a maſon, a ſhoemaker, a weaver, &c. and the women were the moſt ingenious and dili⯑gent of all. Blas Valera mentions a law, named the law of brotherhood, which, without the pro⯑ſpect of reward, obliged them to be mutually aid⯑ing and aſſiſting in ploughing, ſowing, and reap⯑ing, in building their houſes, and in every ſort of occupation.

As the art was unknown of melting down me⯑tals by means of bellows, long copper pipes were contrived, contracted at the further end, that the breath might act the more forcibly on the fire; and they uſed ten or twelve of theſe pipes toge⯑ther, when they wanted a very hot fire. Ha⯑ving no iron, their hatchets and pick-axes were of copper, and they had neither ſaw nor augre, nor any inſtrument of iron: ignorant of the uſe of nails, they tied their timber with cords of hemp. The tool they had for cutting ſtone, was a ſharp flint; and with that tool they ſhaped the ſtone by continual rubbing, more than by cut⯑ting. Having no engines for raiſing ſtones, they did all by ſtrength of arm. Theſe defects not⯑withſtanding, they erected great edifices; wit⯑neſs the fortreſs of Cuſco, a ſtupendous fabric. It paſſes all underſtanding, by what means the ſtones, or rather the great rocks, employed in that building, were brought from the quarry. One of theſe ſtones, meaſured by Acoſta, was thirty feet in length, eighteen in breadth, and ſix in thickneſs.

[107] Having neither ſciſſars nor needles of metal, they uſed a certain long thorn for a needle. The mirrors uſed by ladies of quality were of burniſh⯑ed copper: but ſuch implements of dreſs were reckoned too effeminate for the men.

With reſpect to muſic, they had an inſtru⯑ment of hollow canes glewed together, the notes of which were like thoſe of an organ. They had love-ſongs accompanied with a pipe; and war-ſongs, which were their feſtival entertain⯑ment. They compoſed and acted comedies and tragedies. The art of writing, properly ſo call⯑ed, was unknown: but ſilken threads, with knots caſt upon them of divers colours, enabled them to keep exact accounts, and to ſum them up with a readineſs that would have rivaled an expert European arithmetician. They had alſo attained to as much geometry as to meaſure their fields.

In war, their offenſive arms were the bow and arrow, lance, dart, club, and bill. Their de⯑fenſive arms, were the helmet and target. The army was provided from the King's ſtores, and was no burden upon the people.

In philoſophy, they had made no progreſs. An eclipſe of the moon was attributed to her be⯑ing ſick; and they fancied the milky way to be a ewe giving ſuck to a lamb. With regard to the ſetting ſun, they ſaid, that he was a good ſwim⯑mer, and that he pierced through the waves, to riſe next morning in the eaſt. But ſuch igno⯑rance is not wonderful; for no branch of ſcience can make a progreſs without writing.

The people were divided into ſmall bodies of ten families each: every diviſion had a head, and a regiſter was kept of the whole; a branch of public police, that very much reſembles the Eng⯑liſh decennaries.

[108] They made but two meals, one between eight and nine in the morning, the other before ſun⯑ſet. Idleneſs was puniſhed with infamy: even children were employed according to their capa⯑city. Public viſitors or monitors were appointed, having acceſs to every houſe, for inſpecting the manners of the inhabitants; who were rewarded or puniſhed according to their behaviour. Mo⯑deration and induſtry were ſo effectually enforced by this article of police, that few were reduced to indigence; and theſe got their food and cloth⯑ing out of the King's ſtores.

With reſpect to their laws and cuſtoms, chil⯑dren were bound to ſerve their parents until the age of twenty five; and marriage contracted before that time, without conſent of parents, was null. Polygamy was prohibited, and perſons were con⯑fined to marry within their own tribe. The tra⯑dition, that the Inca family were children of the ſun, introduced inceſt among them; for it was a matter of religion to preſerve their divine blood pure and unmixed.

It was the chief article of the Peruvian creed, upon which every other article of their religion depended, that the Inca family were children of their great god the ſun, and ſent by him to ſpread his worſhip and his laws among them. Nothing could have a greater influence upon an ignorant and credulous people, than ſuch a doctrine. The ſanctity of the Inca family was ſo deeply rooted in the hearts of the Peruvians, that no perſon of that family was thought capable of committing a crime. Such blind veneration for a family, makes it probable, that the government of Peru under the Incas had not ſubſiſted many years; for a government founded upon deceit and ſuperſtition, cannot long continue its authority. However that be, ſuch belief of the origin of the Incas, is [109] evidence of great virtue and moderation in that family; for any groſs act of tyranny or injuſtice, would have opened the eyes of the people to ſee their error. Moderation in the ſovereign, and in the ſubjects obedience without reſerve, cannot fail to produce a government mild and gentle; which was verified in that of Peru, ſo mild and gentle, that to manure and cultivate the lands of the Inca, and to ſay up the produce in ſtore⯑houſes, were the only burdens impoſed upon the people, if it was not ſometimes to make cloaths and weapons for the army. At the ſame time their kings were ſo revered, that theſe articles of labour were performed with great alacrity.

The government was equally gentle with regard to puniſhments. Indeed very few crimes were committed, being conſidered as a ſort of rebellion againſt their great god the ſun. The only crime that ſeems to have been puniſhed with ſeverity, is the marauding of ſoldiers; for death was inflicted, however inconſiderable the damage.

In this empire, there appears to have been the moſt perfect union between law and religion; which could not fail to produce obedience, order, and tranquility, among that people, though ex⯑tremely numerous. The Inca family was famed for moderation: they made conqueſts in order to civilize their neighbours; and as they ſeldom if ever tranſgreſſed the bounds of morality, no other art was neceſſary to preſerve the government entire, but to keep the people ignorant of true religion. They had virgins dedicated to the ſun, who, like the veſtal virgins in Rome, were under a vow of perpetual chaſtity.

This ſubject ſhall be concluded with ſome ſlight obſervations on the two governments I have been deſcribing. Comparing them together, the Mex⯑ican [110] government ſeems to have been ſupported by arms; that of Peru by religion.

The kings of Peru were hereditary and abſo⯑lute: thoſe of Mexico elective. In contradiction however to political principles, the government of Peru was by far the milder. It is mentioned above, that the electors of the Mexican kings were hereditary princes; and the ſame electors compoſed the great council of ſtate. Monteſquieu therefore has been miſinformed when he terms this a deſpotic monarchy^a: a monarchy can never be deſpotic, where the ſovereign is limited by a great council, the members of which are in⯑dependent of him. As little reaſon has he to term Peru deſpotic. An abſolute monarchy it was, but the fartheſt in the world from being deſpotic: on the contrary, we find not in hiſtory any government ſo well contrived for the good of the people. An Agrarian law, firmly rooted, prevented that great inequality of rank and riches which lead to luxury, and diſſolution of manners: a commonwealth was naturally the reſult of ſuch a conſtitution; and probably would have taken place, had it not been for a government no leſs ſuitable, and ſtill more mild, viz. a theocracy under a family ſent from heaven to make them happy. This wild opinion, ſupported by igno⯑rance and ſuperſtition, proved an effectual bar againſt tyranny in the monarch; a moſt exempla⯑ry conduct on his part being neceſſary for ſup⯑porting the opinion of his divinity. Upon the whole, comprehending king and ſubject, there perhaps never exiſted more virtue in any other [111] government, whether monarchical or republi⯑can.

In Peru there are traces of ſome diſtinction of ranks, ariſing probably from office merely, which, as in France, were a bulwark to the monarch againſt the peaſants. The great ſuperiority of the Peruvian Incas, as demi-gods, did not admit a he⯑reditary nobility.

With reſpect to the progreſs of arts and manu⯑factures, the two nations differed widely: in Mexico, arts and manufactures were carried to a ſurpriſing height, conſidering the tools they had to work with: in Peru, they had made no progreſs, every man, as among mere ſavages, providing the neceſſaries of life for himſelf. As the world goes at preſent, ſuch numbers are employed upon our multiplied wants, that not above one of a hund⯑red can be ſpared for war. In ancient times, when theſe wants were few, and not much en⯑larged beyond nature, it is computed that an eighth part could be ſpared for war: and hence the numerous armies we read of in the hiſtory of ancient nations. The Peruvians had it in their power to go ſtill farther: it was poſſible to arm the whole males capable of ſervice: leaving the women to ſupply the few neceſſaries that might be wanted during a ſhort campaign; and ac⯑cordingly we find that the Incas were great con⯑querors.

The religion of the Peruvians, conſidered in a political light, was excellent. The veneration they paid their ſovereign upon a falſe religious principle, was their only ſuperſtition; and that ſuperſtition contributed greatly to improve their morals and their manners: on the other hand, the religion of Mexico was abominable.

[112] Upon the whole, there never was a country deſtitute of iron, where arts ſeem to have been carried higher than in Mexico; and, bating their religion, there never was a country deſtitute of writing, where government ſeems to have been more perfect. I except not the government of Peru, which, not being founded on political prin⯑ciples, but on ſuperſtition, might be more mild, but was far from being ſo ſolidly founded.

SKETCH I.
Principles and Progreſs of REASON.