Part 11

The only prince we meet with in the Roman history who seems to have understood the balance of power is Hiero, King of Syracuse. Though the ally of Rome, he sent assistance to the Carthaginians during the war of the auxiliaries: “Esteeming it requisite,” says Polybius, “both in order to retain his dominions in Sicily and to preserve the Roman friendship, that Carthage should be safe; lest by its fall the remaining power should be able, without contrast or opposition, to execute every purpose and undertaking. And here he acted with great wisdom and prudence; for that is never, on any account, to be overlooked, nor ought such a force ever to be thrown into one hand as to incapacitate the neighbouring states from defending their rights against it.” Here is the aim of modern politics pointed out in express terms.

In short, the maxim of preserving the balance of power is founded so much on common sense and obvious reasoning that it is impossible it could altogether have escaped antiquity, where we find, in other particulars, so many marks of deep penetration and discernment. If it was not so generally known and acknowledged as at present, it had at least an influence on all the wiser and more experienced princes and politicians; and indeed, even at present, however generally known and acknowledged among speculative reasoners, it has not, in practice, an authority much more extensive among those who govern the world.

After the fall of the Roman Empire the form of government established by the northern conquerors incapacitated them in a great measure from further conquests, and long maintained each state in its proper boundaries; but when vassalage and the feudal militia were abolished mankind were anew alarmed by the danger of universal monarchy, from the union of so many kingdoms and principalities in the person of the Emperor Charles. But the power of the house of Austria, founded on extensive but divided dominions, and their riches, derived chiefly from mines of gold and silver, were more likely to decay, of themselves, from internal defects, than to overthrow all the bulwarks raised against them. In less than a century the force of that violent and haughty race was shattered, their opulence dissipated, their splendour eclipsed. A new power succeeded, more formidable to the liberties of Europe, possessing all the advantages of the former and labouring under none of its defects, except a share of that spirit of bigotry and persecution with which the house of Austria were so long and still are so much infatuated.

Europe has now, for above a century, remained on the defensive against the greatest force that ever perhaps was formed by the civil or political combination of mankind. And such is the influence of the maxim here treated of, that though that ambitious nation in the five last general wars has been victorious in four,​ and unsuccessful only in one,​ they have not much enlarged their dominions, nor acquired a total ascendant over Europe. There remains rather room to hope that by maintaining the resistance some time the natural revolutions of human affairs, together with unforeseen events and accidents, may guard us against universal monarchy, and preserve the world from so great an evil.

In the three last of these general wars Britain has stood foremost in the glorious struggle, and she still maintains her station as guardian of the general liberties of Europe, and patron of mankind. Beside her advantages of riches and situation, her people are animated with such a national spirit, and are so fully sensible of the inestimable blessings of their government, that we may hope their vigour never will languish in so necessary and so just a cause. On the contrary, if we may judge by the past, their passionate ardour seems rather to require some moderation, and they have oftener erred from a laudable excess than from a blameable deficiency.

In the first place, we seem to have been more possessed with the ancient Greek spirit of jealous emulation than actuated with the prudent views of modern politics. Our wars with France have been begun with justice, and even, perhaps, from necessity; but have always been too far pushed from obstinacy and passion. The same peace which was afterwards made at Ryswick in 1697 was offered so early as the ninety-two; that concluded at Utrecht in 1712 might have been finished on as good conditions at Gertruytenberg in the eight; and we might have given at Frankfort in 1743 the same terms which we were glad to accept of at Aix-la-Chapelle in the forty-eight. Here then we see that above half of our wars with France, and all our public debts, are owing more to our own imprudent vehemence than to the ambition of our neighbours.

In the second place, we are so declared in our opposition to French power, and so alert in defence of our allies, that they always reckon upon our force as upon their own, and expecting to carry on war at our expense, refuse all reasonable terms of accommodation. Habent subjectos, tanquam suos; viles, ut alienos. All the world knows that the factious vote of the House of Commons in the beginning of the last Parliament, with the professed humour of the nation, made the Queen of Hungary inflexible in her terms, and prevented that agreement with Prussia which would immediately have restored the general tranquillity of Europe.

In the third place, we are such true combatants that, when once engaged, we lose all concern for ourselves and our posterity, and consider only how we may best annoy the enemy. To mortgage our revenues at so deep a rate in wars where we are only accessories was surely the most fatal delusion that a nation, who had any pretension to politics and prudence, has ever yet been guilty of. That remedy of funding—if it be a remedy and not rather a poison—ought, in all reason, to be reserved to the last extremity, and no evil but the greatest and most urgent should ever induce us to embrace so dangerous an expedient.

These excesses to which we have been carried are prejudicial, and may perhaps in time become still more prejudicial another way, by begetting, as is usual, the opposite extreme, and rendering us totally careless and supine with regard to the fate of Europe. The Athenians, from the most bustling, intriguing, warlike people of Greece, finding their error in thrusting themselves into every quarrel, abandoned all attention to foreign affairs, and in no contest ever took party on either side, except by their flatteries and complaisance to the victor.

Enormous monarchies are probably destructive to human nature—in their progress, in their continuance,​ and even in their downfall, which never can be very distant from their establishment. The military genius which aggrandized the monarchy soon leaves the court, the capital, and the centre of such a government; while the wars are carried on at a great distance, and interest so small a part of the state. The ancient nobility, whose affections attach them to their sovereign, live all at court; and never will accept of military employments which would carry them to remote and barbarous frontiers, where they are distant both from their pleasures and their fortune. The arms of the state must therefore be trusted to mercenary strangers, without zeal, without attachment, without honour, ready on every occasion to turn them against the prince, and join each desperate malcontent who offers pay and plunder. This is the necessary progress of human affairs; thus human nature checks itself in its airy elevations, thus ambition blindly labours for the destruction of the conqueror, of his family, and of everything near and dear to him. The Bourbons, trusting to the support of their brave, faithful, and affectionate nobility, would push their advantage without reserve or limitation. These, while fired with glory and emulation, can bear the fatigues and dangers of war; but never would submit to languish in the garrisons of Hungary or Lithuania, forgot at court, and sacrificed to the intrigues of every minion or mistress who approaches the prince. The troops are filled with Cravates and Tartars, Hussars and Cossacks, intermingled perhaps with a few soldiers of fortune from the better provinces; and the melancholy fate of the Roman emperors, from the same cause, is renewed over and over again till the final dissolution of the monarchy.

NOTES, OF THE BALANCE OF POWER.

It was observed by some, as appears from the speech of Agelaus of Naupactum, in the general congress of Greece. See Polyb., lib. 5, cap. 104.

Those concluded by the Peace of the Pyrenees, Nimeguen, Ryswick, and Aix-la-Chapelle.

That concluded by the Peace of Utrecht.

If the Roman Empire was of advantage, it could only proceed from this, that mankind were generally in a very disorderly, uncivilized condition before its establishment.

OF TAXES.

There is a maxim that prevails among those whom in this country we call “ways and means” men, and who are denominated financiers and maltotiers in France, that every new tax creates a new ability in the subject to bear it, and that each increase of public burdens increases proportionably the industry of the people. This maxim is of such a nature as is most likely to be extremely abused, and is so much the more dangerous, as its truth cannot be altogether denied; but it must be owned, when kept within certain bounds, to have some foundation in reason and experience.

When a tax is laid upon commodities which are consumed by the common people, the necessary consequence may seem to be that either the poor must retrench something from their way of living, or raise their wages so as to make the burden of the tax fall entirely upon the rich. But there is a third consequence which very often follows upon taxes—viz., that the poor increase their industry, perform more work, and live as well as before without demanding more for their labour. Where taxes are moderate, are laid on gradually, and affect not the necessaries of life, this consequence naturally follows; and it is certain that such difficulties often serve to excite the industry of a people, and render them more opulent and laborious than others who enjoy the greatest advantages. For we may observe, as a parallel instance, that the most commercial nations have not always possessed the greatest extent of fertile land; but, on the contrary, that they have laboured under many natural disadvantages. Tyre, Athens, Carthage, Rhodes, Genoa, Venice, Holland are strong examples to this purpose; and in all history we find only three instances of large and fertile countries which have possessed much trade—the Netherlands, England, and France. The two former seem to have been allured by the advantages of their maritime situation, and the necessity they lay under of frequenting foreign ports in order to procure what their own climate refused them; and as to France, trade has come very late into the kingdom, and seems to have been the effect of reflection and observation in an ingenious and enterprising people, who remarked the immense riches acquired by such of the neighbouring nations as cultivated navigation and commerce.

The places mentioned by Cicero as possessed of the greatest commerce of his time are Alexandria, Colchos, Tyre, Sidon, Andros, Cyprus, Pamphylia, Lycia, Rhodes, Chios, Byzantium, Lesbos, Smyrna, Miletum, Coos. All these, except Alexandria, were either small islands or narrow territories; and that city owed its trade entirely to the happiness of its situation.

Since, therefore, some natural necessities or disadvantages may be thought favourable to industries, why may not artificial burdens have the same effect? Sir William Temple,​ we may observe, ascribes the industry of the Dutch entirely to necessity, proceeding from their natural disadvantages; and illustrates his doctrine by a very striking comparison with Ireland, “where,” says he, “by the largeness and plenty of the soil, and scarcity of people, all things necessary to life are so cheap that an industrious man by two days’ labour may gain enough to feed him the rest of the week. Which I take to be a very plain ground of the laziness attributed to the people. For men naturally prefer ease before labour, and will not take pains if they can live idle; though when, by necessity, they have been inured to it, they cannot leave it, being grown a custom necessary to their health, and to their very entertainment. Nor perhaps is the change harder from constant ease to labour than from constant labour to ease.” After which the author proceeds to confirm his doctrine by enumerating as above the places where trade has most flourished in ancient and modern times, and which are commonly observed by such narrow, confined territories as beget a necessity for industry.

It is always observed in years of scarcity, if it be not extreme, that the poor labour more and really live better than in years of great plenty, when they indulge themselves in idleness and riot. I have been told by a considerable manufacturer that in the year 1740, when bread and provisions of all kinds were very dear, his workmen not only made a shift to live, but paid debts which they had contracted in former years that were much more favourable and abundant.

This doctrine, therefore, with regard to taxes may be admitted to some degree, but beware of the abuse. Exorbitant taxes, like extreme necessity, destroy industry by producing despair; and even before they reach this pitch they raise the wages of the labourer and manufacturer, and heighten the price of all commodities. An attentive, disinterested legislature will observe the point when the emolument ceases and the prejudice begins; but as the contrary character is much more common, it is to be feared that taxes all over Europe are multiplying to such a degree as will entirely crush all art and industry; though perhaps their first increase, together with circumstances, might have contributed to the growth of these advantages.

The best taxes are such as are levied upon consumptions, especially those of luxury, because such taxes are less felt by the people. They seem, in some measure, voluntary, since a man may choose how far he will use the commodity which is taxed: they are paid gradually and insensibly, and being confounded with the natural price of the commodity, they are scarcely perceived by the consumers. Their only disadvantage is that they are expensive in the levying.

Taxes upon possessions are levied without expense, but have every other disadvantage. Most states, however, are obliged to have recourse to them, in order to supply the deficiencies of the other.

But the most pernicious of all taxes are those which are arbitrary. They are commonly converted by their management into punishments on industry; and also by their unavoidable inequality are more grievous than by the real burden which they impose. It is surprising, therefore, to see them have place among any civilized people.

In general, all poll-taxes, even when not arbitrary—which they commonly are—may be esteemed dangerous; because it is so easy for the sovereign to add a little more and a little more to the sum demanded, that these taxes are apt to become altogether oppressive and intolerable. On the other hand, a duty upon commodities checks itself, and a prince will soon find that an increase of the impost is no increase of his revenue. It is not easy, therefore, for a people to be altogether ruined by such taxes.

Historians inform us that one of the chief causes of the destruction of the Roman state was the alteration which Constantine introduced into the finances, by substituting a universal poll-tax in lieu of almost all the tithes, customs, and excises which formerly composed the revenue of the empire. The people in all the provinces were so grinded and oppressed by the publicans that they were glad to take refuge under the conquering arms of the barbarians, whose dominion, as they had fewer necessities and less art, was found preferable to the refined tyranny of the Romans.

There is a prevailing opinion that all taxes, however levied, fall upon the land at last. Such an opinion may be useful in Britain, by checking the landed gentlemen, in whose hands our legislature is chiefly lodged, and making them preserve great regard for trade and industry; but I must confess that this principle, though first advanced by a celebrated writer, has so little appearance of reason that were it not for his authority it had never been received by anybody. Every man, to be sure, is desirous of pushing off from himself the burden of any tax which is imposed, and laying it upon others; but as every man has the same inclination, and is upon the defensive, no set of men can be supposed to prevail altogether in this contest. And why the landed gentleman should be the victim of the whole, and should not be able to defend himself as well as others are, I cannot readily imagine. All tradesmen, indeed, would willingly prey upon him and divide him among them if they could; but this inclination they always have, though no taxes were levied; and the same methods by which he guards against the imposition of tradesmen before taxes will serve him afterwards, and make them share the burden with him. No labour in any commodities that are exported can be very considerably raised in the price without losing the foreign market; and as some part of almost every manufactory is exported, this circumstance keeps the price of most species of labour nearly the same after the imposition of taxes. I may add that it has this effect upon the whole, for were any kind of labour paid beyond its proportion all hands would flock to it, and would soon sink it to a level with the rest.