Favourable circumstances attending the revolution.—In the revolution of 1688 there was an unusual combination of favouring circumstances, and some of the most important, such as the king's sudden flight, not within prior calculation, which render it no precedent for other times and occasions in point of expediency, whatever it may be in point of justice. Resistance to tyranny by overt rebellion incurs not only the risks of failure, but those of national impoverishment and confusion, of vindictive retaliation, and such aggressions (perhaps inevitable) on private right and liberty as render the name of revolution and its adherents odious. Those, on the other hand, who call in a powerful neighbour to protect them from domestic oppression, may too often expect to realise the horse of the fable, and endure a subjection more severe, permanent, and ignominious, than what they shake off. But the revolution effected by William III. united the independent character of a national act with the regularity and the coercion of anarchy which belong to a military invasion. The United Provinces were not such a foreign potentate as could put in jeopardy the independence of England; nor could his army have maintained itself against the inclinations of the kingdom, though it was sufficient to repress any turbulence that would naturally attend so extraordinary a crisis. Nothing was done by the multitude; no new men, soldiers, or demagogues, had their talents brought forward by this rapid and pacific revolution; it cost no blood, it violated no right, it was hardly to be traced in the course of justice; the formal and exterior character of the monarchy remained nearly the same in so complete a regeneration of its spirit. Few nations can hope to ascend up to the sphere of a just and honourable liberty, especially when long use has made the track of obedience familiar, and they have learned to move as it were only by the clank of the chain, with so little toil and hardship. We reason too exclusively from this peculiar instance of 1688, when we hail the fearful struggles of other revolutions with a sanguine and confident sympathy. Nor is the only error upon this side. For, as if the inveterate and cankerous ills of a commonwealth could be extirpated with no loss and suffering, we are often prone to abandon the popular cause in agitated nations with as much fickleness as we embraced it, when we find that intemperance, irregularity, and confusion, from which great revolutions are very seldom exempt. These are indeed so much their usual attendants, the re-action of a self-deceived multitude is so probable a consequence, the general prospect of success in most cases so precarious, that wise and good men are more likely to hesitate too long, than to rush forward too eagerly. Yet, "whatever be the cost of this noble liberty, we must be content to pay it to Heaven."[141]
It is unnecessary even to mention those circumstances of this great event, which are minutely known to almost all my readers. They were all eminently favourable in their effect to the regeneration of our constitution; even one of temporary inconvenience, namely, the return of James to London, after his detention by the fishermen near Feversham. This, as Burnet has observed, and as is easily demonstrated by the writings of that time, gave a different colour to the state of affairs, and raised up a party which did not before exist, or at least was too disheartened to show itself.[142] His first desertion of the kingdom had disgusted every one, and might be construed into a voluntary cession. But his return to assume again the government put William under the necessity of using that intimidation which awakened the mistaken sympathy of a generous people. It made his subsequent flight, though certainly not what a man of courage enough to give his better judgment free play would have chosen, appear excusable and defensive. It brought out too glaringly, I mean for the satisfaction of prejudiced minds, the undeniable fact, that the two houses of convention deposed and expelled their sovereign. Thus the great schism of the Jacobites, though it must otherwise have existed, gained its chief strength; and the revolution, to which at the outset a coalition of whigs and tories had conspired, became in its final result, in the settlement of the Crown upon William and Mary, almost entirely the work of the former party.
But while the position of the new government was thus rendered less secure, by narrowing the basis of public opinion whereon it stood, the liberal principles of policy which the whigs had espoused became incomparably more powerful, and were necessarily involved in the continuance of the revolution settlement. The ministers of William III. and of the house of Brunswick had no choice but to respect and countenance the doctrines of Locke, Hoadley, and Molesworth. The assertion of passive obedience to the Crown grew obnoxious to the Crown itself. Our new line of sovereigns scarcely ventured to hear of their hereditary right, and dreaded the cup of flattery that was drugged with poison. This was the greatest change that affected our monarchy by the fall of the house of Stuart. The laws were not so materially altered as the spirit and sentiments of the people. Hence those who look only at the former have been prone to underrate the magnitude of this revolution. The fundamental maxims of the constitution, both as they regard the king and the subject, may seem nearly the same; but the disposition with which they were received and interpreted was entirely different.
Its salutary consequences.—It was in this turn of feeling, in this change, if I may so say, of the heart, far more than in any positive statutes and improvements of the law, that I consider the revolution to have been eminently conducive to our freedom and prosperity. Laws and statutes as remedial, nay more closely limiting the prerogative than the bill of rights and act of settlement, might possibly have been obtained from James himself, as the price of his continuance on the throne, or from his family as that of their restoration to it. But what the revolution did for us was this; it broke the spell that had charmed the nation. It cut up by the roots all that theory of indefeasible right, of paramount prerogative, which had put the Crown in continual opposition to the people. A contention had now subsisted for five hundred years, but particularly during the four last reigns, against the aggressions of arbitrary power. The sovereigns of this country had never patiently endured the control of parliament; nor was it natural for them to do so, while the two houses of parliament appeared historically, and in legal language, to derive their existence as well as privileges from the Crown itself. They had at their side the pliant lawyers, who held the prerogative to be uncontrollable by statutes, a doctrine of itself destructive to any scheme of reconciliation and compromise between a king and his subjects; they had the churchmen, whose casuistry denied that the most intolerable tyranny could excuse resistance to a lawful government. These two propositions could not obtain general acceptation without rendering all national liberty precarious.
It has been always reckoned among the most difficult problems in the practical science of government, to combine an hereditary monarchy with security of freedom, so that neither the ambition of kings shall undermine the people's rights, nor the jealousy of the people overturn the throne. England had already experience of both these mischiefs. And there seemed no prospect before her, but either their alternate recurrence, or a final submission to absolute power, unless by one great effort she could put the monarchy for ever beneath the law, and reduce it to an integrant portion instead of the primary source and principle of the constitution. She must reverse the favoured maxim, "A Deo rex, à rege lex;" and make the Crown itself appear the creature of the law. But our ancient monarchy, strong in a possession of seven centuries, and in those high and paramount prerogatives which the consenting testimony of lawyers and the submission of parliaments had recognised, a monarchy from which the House of Commons and every existing peer, though not perhaps the aristocratic order itself, derived its participation in the legislature, could not be bent to the republican theories which have been not very successfully attempted in some modern codes of constitution. It could not be held, without breaking up all the foundations of our polity, that the monarchy emanated from the parliament, or even from the people. But by the revolution and by the act of settlement, the rights of the actual monarch, of the reigning family, were made to emanate from the parliament and the people. In technical language, in the grave and respectful theory of our constitution, the Crown is still the fountain from which law and justice spring forth. Its prerogatives are in the main the same as under the Tudors and the Stuarts; but the right of the house of Brunswick to exercise them can only be deduced from the convention of 1688.
The great advantage therefore of the revolution, as I would explicitly affirm, consists in that which was reckoned its reproach by many, and its misfortune by more; that it broke the line of succession. No other remedy could have been found, according to the temper and prejudices of those times, against the unceasing conspiracy of power. But when the very tenure of power was conditional, when the Crown, as we may say, gave recognisances for its good behaviour, when any violent and concerted aggressions on public liberty would have ruined those who could only resist an inveterate faction by the arms which liberty put in their hands, the several parts of the constitution were kept in cohesion by a tie far stronger than statutes, that of a common interest in its preservation. The attachment of James to popery, his infatuation, his obstinacy, his pusillanimity, nay even the death of the Duke of Gloucester, the life of the Prince of Wales, the extraordinary permanence and fidelity of his party, were all the destined means through which our present grandeur and liberty, our dignity of thinking on matters of government, have been perfected. Those liberal tenets, which at the æra of the revolution were maintained but by one denomination of English party, and rather perhaps on authority of not very good precedents in our history than of sound general reasoning, became in the course of the next generation almost equally the creed of the other, whose long exclusion from government taught them to solicit the people's favour; and by the time that Jacobitism was extinguished, had passed into received maxims of English politics. None at least would care to call them in question within the walls of parliament; nor have their opponents been of much credit in the paths of literature. Yet, as since the extinction of the house of Stuart's pretensions, and other events of the last half century, we have seen those exploded doctrines of indefeasible hereditary right revived under another name, and some have been willing to misrepresent the transactions of the revolution and the act of settlement as if they did not absolutely amount to a deposition of the reigning sovereign, and an election of a new dynasty by the representatives of the nation in parliament, it may be proper to state precisely the several votes, and to point out the impossibility of reconciling them to any gentler construction.
Proceedings of the convention.—The Lords spiritual and temporal, to the number of about ninety, and an assembly of all who had sat in any of King Charles's parliaments, with the lord mayor and fifty of the common council, requested the Prince of Orange to take upon him the administration after the king's second flight, and to issue writs for a convention in the usual manner.[143] This was on the 26th of December; and the convention met on the 22nd of January. Their first care was to address the prince to take the administration of affairs and disposal of the revenue into his hands, in order to give a kind of parliamentary sanction to the power he already exercised. On the 28th of January the Commons, after a debate in which the friends of the late king made but a faint opposition, came to their great vote: That King James II., having endeavoured to subvert the constitution of this kingdom, by breaking the original contract between king and people, and by the advice of jesuits and other wicked persons having violated the fundamental laws, and having withdrawn himself out of the kingdom, has abdicated the government, and that the throne is thereby vacant. They resolved unanimously the next day, that it hath been found by experience inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this protestant kingdom to be governed by a popish prince.[144] This vote was a remarkable triumph of the whig party, who had contended for the exclusion bill; and, on account of that endeavour to establish a principle which no one was now found to controvert, had been subjected to all the insults and reproaches of the opposite faction. The Lords agreed with equal unanimity to this vote; which, though it was expressed only as an abstract proposition, led by a practical inference to the whole change that the whigs had in view. But upon the former resolution several important divisions took place. The first question put, in order to save a nominal allegiance to the late king, was, whether a regency with the administration of regal power under the style of King James II. during the life of the said King James, be the best and safest way to preserve the protestant religion and the laws of this kingdom? This was supported both by those peers who really meant to exclude the king from the enjoyment of power, such as Nottingham, its great promoter, and by those who, like Clarendon, were anxious for his return upon terms of security for their religion and liberty. The motion was lost by fifty-one to forty-nine; and this seems to have virtually decided, in the judgment of the house, that James had lost the throne.[145] The Lords then resolved that there was an original contract between the king and people, by fifty-five to forty-six; a position that seems rather too theoretical, yet necessary at that time, as denying the divine origin of monarchy, from which its absolute and indefeasible authority had been plausibly derived. They concurred, without much debate, in the rest of the Commons' vote; till they came to the clause that he had abdicated the government, for which they substituted the word "deserted." They next omitted the final and most important clause, that the throne was thereby vacant, by a majority of fifty-five to forty-one. This was owing to the party of Lord Danby, who asserted a devolution of the Crown on the Princess of Orange. It seemed to be tacitly understood by both sides that the infant child was to be presumed spurious. This at least was a necessary supposition for the tories, who sought in the idle rumours of the time an excuse for abandoning his right. As to the whigs, though they were active in discrediting this unfortunate boy's legitimacy, their own broad principles of changing the line of succession rendered it, in point of argument, a superfluous enquiry. The tories, who had made little resistance to the vote of abdication, when it was proposed in the Commons, recovered courage by this difference between the two houses; and perhaps by observing the king's party to be stronger out of doors than it had appeared to be, were able to muster 151 voices against 282 in favour of agreeing with the Lords in leaving out the clause about the vacancy of the throne.[146] There was still, however, a far greater preponderance of the whigs in one part of the convention, than of the tories in the other. In the famous conference that ensued between committees of the two houses upon these amendments, it was never pretended that the word "abdication" was used in its ordinary sense, for a voluntary resignation of the Crown. The Commons did not practise so pitiful a subterfuge. Nor could the Lords explicitly maintain, whatever might be the wishes of their managers, that the king was not expelled and excluded as much by their own word "desertion" as by that which the lower house had employed. Their own previous vote against a regency was decisive upon this point.[147] But as abdication was a gentler term than forfeiture, so desertion appeared a still softer method of expressing the same idea. Their chief objection, however, to the former word was that it led, or might seem to lead, to the vacancy of the throne, against which their principal arguments were directed. They contended that in our government there could be no interval or vacancy, the heir's right being complete by a demise of the Crown; so that it would at once render the monarchy elective, if any other person were designated to the succession. The Commons did not deny that the present case was one of election, though they refused to allow that the monarchy was thus rendered perpetually elective. They asked, supposing a right to descend upon the next heir, who was that heir to inherit it; and gained one of their chief advantages by the difficulty of evading this question. It was indeed evident that, if the Lords should carry their amendments, an enquiry into the legitimacy of the Prince of Wales could by no means be dispensed with. Unless that could be disproved more satisfactorily than they had reason to hope, they must come back to the inconveniences of a regency, with the prospect of bequeathing interminable confusion to their posterity. For, if the descendants of James should continue in the Roman catholic religion, the nation might be placed in the ridiculous situation of acknowledging a dynasty of exiled kings, whose lawful prerogative would be withheld by another race of protestant regents. It was indeed strange to apply the provisional substitution of a regent in cases of infancy or imbecility of mind to a prince of mature age, and full capacity for the exercise of power. Upon the king's return to England, this delegated authority must cease of itself; unless supported by votes of parliament as violent and incompatible with the regular constitution as his deprivation of the royal title, but far less secure for the subject, whom the statute of Henry VII. would shelter in paying obedience to a king de facto; while the fate of Sir Henry Vane was an awful proof that no other name could give countenance to usurpation. A great part of the nation not thirty years before had been compelled by acts of parliament[148] to declare upon oath their abhorrence of that traitorous position, that arms might be taken up by the king's authority against his person or those commissioned by him, through the influence of those very tories or loyalists who had now recourse to the identical distinction between the king's natural and political capacity, for which the presbyterians had incurred so many reproaches.
In this conference, however, if the whigs had every advantage on the solid grounds of expediency, or rather political necessity, the tories were as much superior in the mere argument, either as it regarded the common sense of words, or the principles of our constitutional law. Even should we admit that an hereditary king is competent to abdicate the throne in the name of all his posterity, this could only be intended of a voluntary and formal cession, not such a constructive abandonment of his right by misconduct as the Commons had imagined. The word "forfeiture" might better have answered this purpose; but it had seemed too great a violence on principles which it was more convenient to undermine than to assault. Nor would even forfeiture bear out by analogy the exclusion of an heir, whose right was not liable to be set aside at the ancestor's pleasure. It was only by recurring to a kind of paramount, and what I may call hyper-constitutional law, a mixture of force and regard to the national good, which is the best sanction of what is done in revolutions, that the vote of the Commons could be defended. They proceeded not by the stated rules of the English government, but the general rights of mankind. They looked not so much to Magna Charta as the original compact of society, and rejected Coke and Hale for Hooker and Harrington.
The House of Lords, after this struggle against principles undoubtedly very novel in the discussions of parliament, gave way to the strength of circumstance and the steadiness of the Commons. They resolved not to insist on their amendments to the original vote; and followed this up by a resolution, that the Prince and Princess of Orange shall be declared King and Queen of England, and all the dominions thereunto belonging.[149] But the Commons with a noble patriotism delayed to concur in this hasty settlement of the Crown, till they should have completed the declaration of those fundamental rights and liberties for the sake of which alone they had gone forward with this great revolution.[150] That declaration, being at once an exposition of the misgovernment which had compelled them to dethrone the late king, and of the conditions upon which they elected his successors, was incorporated in the final resolution to which both houses came on the 13th of February, extending the limitation of the Crown as far as the state of affairs required: "That William and Mary, Prince and Princess of Orange, be, and be declared King and Queen of England, France, and Ireland, and the dominions thereunto belonging, to hold the crown and dignity of the said kingdoms and dominions to them, the said prince and princess, during their lives, and the life of the survivor of them; and that the sole and full exercise of the regal power be only in, and executed by, the said Prince of Orange, in the names of the said prince and princess, during their joint lives; and after their decease the said crown and royal dignity of the said kingdoms and dominions to be to the heirs of the body of the said princess; for default of such issue, to the Princess Anne of Denmark, and the heirs of her body; and for default of such issue, to the heirs of the body of the said Prince of Orange."
Thus, to sum up the account of this extraordinary change in our established monarchy, the convention pronounced, under the slight disguise of a word unusual in the language of English law, that the actual sovereign had forfeited his right to the nation's allegiance. It swept away by the same vote the reversion of his posterity, and of those who could claim the inheritance of the Crown. It declared that, during an interval of nearly two months, there was no king of England; the monarchy lying, as it were, in abeyance from the 23rd of December to the 13th of February. It bestowed the Crown on William jointly with his wife indeed, but so that her participation of the sovereignty should be only in name.[151] It postponed the succession of the Princess Anne during his life. Lastly, it made no provision for any future devolution of the Crown in failure of issue from those to whom it was thus limited, leaving that to the wisdom of future parliaments. Yet only eight years before, nay much less, a large part of the nation had loudly proclaimed the incompetency of a full parliament, with a lawful king at its head, to alter the lineal course of succession. No whig had then openly professed the doctrine, that not only a king, but an entire royal family, might be set aside for public convenience. The notion of an original contract was denounced as a republican chimera. The deposing of kings was branded as the worst birth of popery and fanaticism. If other revolutions have been more extensive in their effect on the established government, few perhaps have displayed a more rapid transition of public opinion. For it cannot be reasonably doubted that the majority of the nation went along with the vote of their representatives. Such was the termination of that contest, which the house of Stuart had obstinately maintained against the liberties, and of late, against the religion of England; or rather, of that far more ancient controversy between the Crown and the people which had never been wholly at rest since the reign of John. During this long period, the balance, except in a few irregular intervals, had been swayed in favour of the Crown; and, though the government of England was always a monarchy limited by law, though it always, or at least since the admission of the commons into the legislature, partook of the three simple forms, yet the character of a monarchy was evidently prevalent over the other parts of the constitution. But, since the revolution of 1688, and particularly from thence to the death of George II., it seems equally just to say, that the predominating character has been aristocratical; the prerogative being in some respects too limited, and in others too little capable of effectual exercise, to counterbalance the hereditary peerage, and that class of great territorial proprietors, who, in a political division, are to be reckoned among the proper aristocracy of the kingdom. This, however, will be more fully explained in the two succeeding chapters, which are to terminate the present work.