face this difficulty in the sphere of religion, he was equally unsound in the sphere of politics. A religious creed resting on prescription is analogous to a political creed which renounces responsibility. The rulers who objected to change could appeal to no satisfactory ground of reverence. The divine right theory was dead; and therefore to claim the reverence due only to divinely appointed rulers was to invite destruction. In the face of this, a power relying upon the mere force of prejudice, the revolutionary doctrines had a tremendous advantage; their dogmas might be erroneous, but they were dogmas. The revolutionists asserted, with the fervour of new converts, that laws ought to be reasonable, that social arrangements should be in conformity with justice, that all power should be administered for the good of the people) True, these doctrines were mixed with an element of utterly delusive metaphysics; and therefore the attempt to carry them into practice led to cruel disappointment. Burke's obstructive creed had not that positive element which was required to meet the destructives effectually. Delivered, indeed, to a people full of stubborn conservatism, comparatively careless of general ideas, and frightened by the catastrophe of France, it served to give courage to the party of resistance. But, as yet, men's minds were left in the hopeless dilemma between doctrines which would destroy all authority and doctrines which would support all authority not flagrantly intolerable In order to appreciate the full significance of the lesson taught by Burke, it is necessary to examine at some length the doctrine which his last breath was spent in opposing, so far, at least, as that doctrine was embodied in English literature.

X. THE REVOLUTIONISTS.

126. The shrewd but crotchety Dean Tucker had attacked Price and Priestley as the main advocates of the obnoxious 'Lockian' system in England. In their writings, in fact, we catch for the first time the true revolutionary tone. The liberal dissenters, whom they both represented, were the backbone of the reforming party in England. The theoretical principles of the two men differed widely, but their con

clusions as to political questions of the day were identical. Priestley, the crude materialist, and Price, the cloudy advocate of an a priori philosophy, united in condemning the existing order which would satisfy neither the test of utility nor the test of abstract justice. The relation between the utilitarians and the metaphysicians is, indeed, a characteristic peculiarity of English political theory. The doctrine of the indefeasible rights of man has never been quite at home on English soil; but writers, avowedly starting from the opposite pole of speculation, have accepted the conclusions to which it naturally leads. Bentham's hatred of metaphysical methods was at least as keen as Burke's. He objected to the American movement in its beginning, because he thought that the Declaration of Independence savoured of those hated principles. Priestley, as we shall see directly, was in substantial agreement with Bentham, and it was in reading the Treatise upon Civil Government' that the sacred formula about the greatest happiness of the greatest number first flashed upon Bentham's mind. And yet Priestley's doctrine, if utilitarian in substance, easily took the metaphysical form; and his conclusions might have been avowed by Rousseau as well as by Price or Tom Paine. There is, indeed, an obvious point of contact in all these theories. Priestley and Bentham, not less than Rousseau and his followers, altogether ignore the historical method in politics. They are absolutely indifferent to that conception of the continuity of the social organism which supplies the vital element of Burke's teaching. They reject all 'prescription' as equivalent to blind prejudice. They propose to reform society anew, without reference to the special traditions and beliefs by which it has been hitherto bound together. The doctrine of the natural equality of mankind, which is openly avowed by the metaphysicians, is tacitly assumed by the utilitarians as a necessary base for their speculations; and, therefore, however widely their methods may differ, they agree in condemning the whole body of beliefs by which the complex structure of society was bound together. Priestley's "Treatise on Civil Government' first appeared in 1768; Price's 'Observations on Civil History' in 1775. Priestley's main object of attack was the Established Church, whilst Price as

See note to ch. ix. sec. 62, above.

saulted the Colonial Empire; but each writer prefaces his special argument by asserting, with great emphasis, the revolutionary doctrine of liberty. Government requires to be restrained, whether it seeks to tax the dissenters for ecclesiastical purposes or the colonies for commercial purposes. And in each case the opposition to its claims rests on the single ground that nobody ought to be made to do what he dislikes.

127. Priestley's versatile and receptive, but far from penetrating, intellect enabled him to adopt any popular language without enquiring too closely into its meaning. He avowedly accepts Rousseau's line of argument. Government, according to him, is founded upon a bargain according to which every man resigns part of his 'civil liberty,' that is, his right to do as he pleases, in consideration of a certain share of 'political liberty,' that is, of influence on the government of the country.2 Hence follow the ordinary conclusions about popular sovereignty and the justification of rebellion when the fundamental contract is broken. His theory is summed up in the maxim, 'than which nothing is more true, that every government in its original principles, and antecedent to its present form, is an equal republic.' His belief in the imaginary compact prevents him, even when attacking its most grotesque form in Warburton's 'alliance' theory, from striking at the vital point. Eager as he is to overthrow his enemy, and forcible as are some of his arguments, he never points out, as any modern writer would begin by pointing out, the utterly fictitious nature of the whole hypothetical structure.

128. Bentham would have done better, and yet the whole of Priestley's argument, when stripped of its superficial dress, is so much in the utilitarian spirit as to explain very naturally the impression made upon Bentham's mind. The elastic compact, in fact, is easily twisted into a shape in which it becomes almost indistinguishable from an assertion of the greatest happiness principle. Priestley speaks, for example, of man's natural right' as founded on a regard to the general good, and argues that the 'good and happiness of the members, that is,' he significantly adds, 'the majority of the

1 Treatise on Civil Government,' p. 7.

Priestley, p. 40.

2 Ib. p. 10.

members of any state, is the great standard by which everything relating to that state must finally be determined.'1 'This one general idea,' he proceeds to declare, 'properly understood, throws the greatest light upon the whole system of policy, morals, and, I may add, theology too.' Though he does not grasp this principle as vigorously as Bentham, or apply it so systematically, it supplies his most telling arguments. Arguing the question of the interference of the civil magistrate in religious affairs, he says that no difference is here to be made 'between the right and the wisdom of interference. If the interference be for the good of society, it is wise and right; if it would do more harm than good, it is foolish and wrong.' But the coincidence between Priestley and the later utilitarians appears most clearly in his discussion of the advantages of an authoritative code of education.' Brown had added a kind of corollary to the 'Estimate,' showing that the torrent of corruption ought to be checked by the introduction of a national system of education. He held, like Rousseau, that our manners could only be renovated by saving life from pollution at its source. His great precedent was the case of Sparta, as he apparently held that a young man accustomed to a dish of black broth would be superior to the bribes of a Newcastle or a Bute. Priestley's objections are precisely those which have been raised by later utilitarians to ail government interference. For his doctrine of the revolutionary metaphysicians, that government has no right to interfere, is substituted the argument that its interference would be inexpedient. Priestley, like his successors, holds that it would be unadvisable to stereotype any system in our present state of ignorance, and assumes that stagnation would be the necessary effect of interference. The great excellence of human nature,' he says, 'consists in the variety of which it is capable,' and he holds that the various character of the Athenians was certainly preferable to the uniform character of the Spartans, or to any uniform national character whatever.' Interference with family rights will involve the sacrifice of the greatest sum of happiness in the community; '5

and the evil effects of lodging supreme power in the hands of one set of men may be judged from the reception accorded to Locke's Essay, and to the Newtonian philosophy on its first appearance. A fanciful argument follows as to the incompatibility between a uniform system of education and a mixed form of government; but Priestley is one of the first apostles of that gospel of letting things alone which in a later generation was to be regarded as the cure for all our sins.

129. One other doctrine, which makes its appearance in the pages of Priestley, is more strikingly characteristic of the new period. His sanguine temperament and his scientific abilities predisposed him to accept that unqualified belief in progress which was to be the religion of the coming generation. The old superstitions and prejudices were disappearing; vast possibilities of future progress were opening out in every direction. However the world may have begun, he thinks himself entitled to pronounce that the end will be glorious and paradisaical beyond what our imagination can now conceive.'1 With an unconscious inconsistency, he adds that government is the great instrument of this progress of the human species towards this glorious state,'' and then argues that government is to promote progress by letting things alone. Everywhere, however, the minds of men are opening to large and generous views of things.' Political and religious knowledge advances as rapidly as knowledge of other kinds; and if only governments will stand aside and leave free play to individual energies, the millennium is at hand. Reason is shaking off the vast superincumbent mass of antiquated prejudice; the fetters are falling from all human limbs, and a new order must be soon created. When the French Revolution came, Priestley saw the realisation of his dreams; and though facts did not quite correspond to theories, he was able to take refuge in the interpretation of the prophecies.

130. Belief in a coming millennium is natural to a party still in the proselytising stage. A careful study of the past history of the race is necessary to substitute a well-grounded belief in progress for a crude optimism, which is rather the reflection of the hopes of reformers than the expression of a reasoned conviction. To underestimate the obstacles to suc2 Ib. p. 296.

Priestley, p. 5.