Essay VIII

The Same Subject Continued

     The fate of nations often depends on circumstances apparently
the most trivial. The genius, the life, perhaps the temporary
humour of a single man may, on some occasions, fix the political
arrangements that affect the essential interests of one half the
globe.
     Local circumstances are so blended in their operations with a
variety of other causes, that it is difficult to define them with
such precision as were necessary to form an estimate of their
comparative importance. Hence the confusion, on this subject, which
fills the volumes of the learned. A Writer [Montesquieu] of the
first rank, who illustrates and adorns the history of mankind with
plausible and ingenious theory, has assigned to physical causes an
almost unlimited empire. Another Writer, [Hume] no less
illustrious, contracts into a point the sphere of their dominion.
Their priority in the order of things, and their supposed
permanency, have been urged by other writers, as decisive of
superior sway. But it deserves to be remembered, that causes
physical in their nature, are often moral only in their operations;
that these operations are limited and precarious, and relative to
the conjuncture; that a people may be long incapable to avail
themselves of external advantages; that circumstances ultimately
beneficial, may have proved for a long while incommodious or
destructive; and, consequently, that the importance of local
station, far from being permanent, varies not only with the
contingencies of the natural world, but with the course of
political events, and the general state of human improvement.
     A settlement, conducing at one period to render the natives
fierce, treacherous, and inhospitable, may be instrumental at
another period, in rendering them civil and humane.
     Before the aera of navigation, a settlement on an island, or
the command of an extensive and commodious coast, might have
conferred no advantages on the possessors; or rather circumstances,
of such inestimable account in a commercial age, might, by cutting
off all communication with the rest of the species, have proved, in
every former aera, invincible obstacles to the civil arts. Our
insular situation, so fertile a source of national security,
opulence, and grandeur, rendered us long an uncultivated and
sequestered people:

          -- Penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos

And the neglect with which Britons were once treated in the society
of nations, is compensated only by that attention which their
posterity command. While nations on the continent of Europe
maintain their barriers with difficulty, and at an enormous
expence, and, if they will consult their security, must often court
alliances, and observe, with jealous attention, the minutest
variations in the balance of power, Great Britain is exempted from
such anxious solicitude. By collecting her forces within herself,
by avoiding continental wars, which exhaust, to little purpose, her
treasure and her blood, and by rendering the improvement of her
maritime strength the fixed and steady object of her policy, she
may maintain, in defiance of powerful confederacies, that post of
honour and distinction, which seems to have drawn upon her the envy
of nations, who now take advantage of internal calamities to insult
her fortune.
     The aera of navigation opened a new species of correspondence
among men: and, in the infancy of the art, a civil settlement might
be attended with peculiar advantages, which there could be no
possibility of transmitting, in their full extent, to future
generations. In the territory of the Phoenicians, neither large nor
fertile, yet lying along a commodious coast, we observe sources of
opulence and renown. That country, oppressed at first by the
violence of the Assyrians, but afterwards so well adapted to the
commercial circumstances of the antient world, called forth in its
people corresponding exertions, and both invited them to undertake,
and favoured the execution of early enterprizes as a maritime
power. While the Egyptians, in the fullness of riches and of pride,
and in the spirit of an unsocial form of superstition, had shut
their ports against mankind, and renounced all foreign
correspondence; it was the glory of the Phoenicians to venture
beyond the boundaries of antient navigation, and by commercial
enterprize, to diffuse arts and civility over the western regions.
Bred up in habits of frugality and domestic industry, the
consequence of scanty and penurious possessions, they pursued an
oeconomical, not a luxurious commerce. The commodities of every
country were embarked on Phoenician bottoms; and, as merchants, or
factors, or navigators, they created a sort of universal
dependence, and conducted, almost exclusively, the traffic of the
world.
     What the Phoenicians were, in early times, relatively to the
nations on the Mediterranean coast; what the Hanse Towns and the
Dutch lately were, relatively to the other European states; the
commercial towns all over Europe are, at this day, relatively to
the rest of the earth. The maritime efforts of the Greeks lessened
the importance of Phoenicia. The maritime efforts of the English,
and of other powers, have sunk the importance of the Dutch
commonwealth. The fall of Europe will mark, perhaps, at some future
aera, the enterprize of the species at large; or Europe may only
seem to fall, while she advances to more absolute greatness, and
superior opulence, though of less relative importance in the
political scale.
     But to return to early times: Carthage, a colony planted by
the Phoenicians, and inheriting the commercial genius of the parent
state, flourished by the same arts, and grew superior to all
nations in naval power. Content with the empire of the sea alone,
she might have bid defiance, on that element, to the arms of Rome.
But the neglect of her marine, the consequence of a long struggle
for dominion on the continent of Europe, rendered her vulnerable on
her own coasts. More attentive to the levying of armies, composed
chiefly of foreign mercenaries, than to the equipment of fleets, in
which alone her genius was peculiarly formed to excel, she allowed
a maritime ascendency to a powerful rival. And, in these
circumstances, the jealousy of other states, and intestine
divisions, co-operated with the Roman vengeance and ambition in the
extinction of the Carthaginian name.
     Corinth, situated on an isthmus, in the centre of Greece, and
equally connected with the Aegean and Ionian shores, is an example
of a city which united with signal advantages for navigation those
of inland trade. It derived, accordingly, from so fortunate a
coincidence, wealth, splendor, and magnificence. As a mart of
trade, it was no less resorted to than Carthage itself. They have
been called, emphatically, the two eyes of the Mediterranean coast,
and were destroyed in one year by the Romans. The city of Corinth
was restored by Julius Caesar; the city of Carthage, by Augustus.
But it was not possible to restore, under the Roman yoke, that
combination of circumstances which had rendered illustrious the
antient possessors of the same settlements. Corinth was no longer
the capital of a little monarchy, surrounded by free states,
eminent for arts and sciences. And the new city of Carthage, in the
form of a Roman colony, gives us no idea of that city which had
been the pride of Africa, and the envy of Rome.
     The aspiring genius of the Roman people was not formed for
commercial arts. During the first ages of the commonwealth they
remained totally unacquainted with maritime affairs. A Carthaginian
galley, driven by accident on the coasts of Italy, presented them
with the first model of a ship of war. But when naval armaments
appeared to be essential to that plan of universal dominion after
which they aspired, they became intent upon those objects, and
pursued them with unremitting ardor and astonishing success. The
mercantile spirit, and the love of ingenious arts, conducted the
Pheonicians, the Carthaginians, and the Greeks, to distinction and
eminence as maritime powers. Among these nations, trade was the
principal aim in navigation; war only a collateral object. But this
natural order of things was reversed at Rome. The martial spirit
alone led to the establishment of a marine, which triumphed over
the efforts of all the commercial states known in the antient
world, and rendered the Romans themselves in some degree
commercial, when no longer a war-like people. It was the same
spirit which raised up suddenly for Mithridates (for he disclaimed
all regard to commercial objects, as beneath his dignity) such
formidable fleets, as insulted the Romans on their own coasts,
when, by the annihilation of rival powers, they seemed to be in
full possession of maritime empire.
     Sometimes local situation suggests correspondent designs of
great magnitude and importance. Sometimes designs suggested by
other consideration are hence only conducted to a more brilliant or
more successful issue. In both these ways, in the remote ages of
antiquity, the Cretans, the Rhodians, and other states, availed
themselves of happy situations in the pursuits of commercial and
civil greatness.
     But local advantages, fluctuating and precarious, often derive
their sole account from the temporary condition of the world. It
was hence that, long before the fall of Carthage and of Corinth, in
consequence of the discovery of the Indian sea, Alexandria began to
flourish, and became destined, from that discovery alone, to be the
great emporium of trade between the east and west. Its situation
between Tyre and Carthage was convenient for commanding some share
of the lucrative trade of which these cities had been so long
possessed. Tyre was already no more: and Carthage regarded with a
jealous eye the erection of a port, which, under the protection of
the king of Macedon, might supplant here in no small degree. To
produce this effect, as well as to secure his conquest of Egypt,
seems to have been the view of Alexander in laying the foundations
of his new city. But he perceived not then the source of its
importance. It was his expedition into the Indies alone which could
have opened his eyes on the prospect of its future grandeur. This
forms a memorial epoch. The boundaries of commerce being enlarged,
and a maritime correspondence opened between the Indies and the
western nations, the commodities of the East, which had been
usually carried down the Oxus, and along the Caspian sea, began to
be diverted into the channel of Egypt. The Indian trade indeed
remained long inconsiderable; nor did it abandon of a sudden its
antient course. But in proportion as this change took place under
the Ptolemies, and under the Romans, the resort to Alexandria
became conspicuous. In one month, says Josephus, it supplied the
treasury of Rome with more riches than all the rest of Egypt
supplied in a year. And from the reduction of Egypt into a Roman
province by Augustus, to the conquest of that country by the
Saracens, a period of above seven hundred years, the port of
Alexandria was the most noted mart in the world. Nor was it less
renowned as the seat of philosophy and the liberal arts. In the
fall of this city we bewail that of learning itself, which
underwent, upon that spot, the most fatal catastrophes recorded in
the annals of time.
     Such settlements then, as have been mentioned, combined with
the peculiar circumstances of antiquity, had a discernible
connexion with commercial and civil arts. As commerce, therefore,
in the ordinary course of things, seems to make a people flourish;
a settlement conducive to that end is numbered among the causes of
public prosperity. But commerce itself, as ministering to luxury,
was discountenanced by the maxims of antient policy; and, on the
exclusion of it, Rome, and Sparta, and other antient states, seem
to have proposed to found their greatness. This policy, violent
indeed and unnatural, suited only the genius of martial and heroic
times. Yet from hence it appears, that the complexion and temper of
an age, by diversifying national objects, will diversify
proportionably the inherent advantages of any local establishment.
     The spirit of commerce, which actuates modern ages, has opened
a new path of ambition. And though there are disadvantages
inseparable from this spirit; though the detail of modern
governments affords a less splendid theme to the historian than
that presented in the transactions of antiquity; yet the civil and
moral order of the world is certainly advanced by this great
revolution in the view and proceedings of states.
     But if the policy of the antients had been more generally
directed to commercial objects, yet their maritime operations, we
may observe, were necessarily circumscribed: and local advantages,
once of high estimation, became afterwards comparatively of small
importance, and almost disappear in an age when the general use of
the compass, and the various improvements in navigation, so far
enlarge the sphere of enterprize, and maintain an intercourse
between regions the most remote.
     In the progress of arts, the local advantages of mankind all
over the globe seem to approach nearer to an equality. There arise
more incentives to rouze the industry of nations. And a passage
being opened in every country for the collective treasures of the
earth, general competition and demand secure emoluments and rewards
to every people, more accurately proportioned to the measure of
active exertions, and the wisdom by which they are directed. Riches
or poverty must no longer be estimated by the position of a people
on the globe. Art, if I may say so, alters the dispensation of
nature, and maintains a sort of distributive justice in the
division of opulence among mankind. Such at least would be the
tendency of things, if all restrictions on trade were abolished by
a concert among nations, calculated for the common benefit of all.
But mutual jealousies derange and encumber their mutual efforts.
If, in order to keep in view of the coast, it was often necessary
for antient navigators to prefer the more tedious to the shorter
voyage, a similar necessity is superinduced upon the modern, by the
absurdity of commercial regulations. It is merely the relative
prosperity of mankind which enters into the views of sovereigns.
And no regulation, however beneficial to nations, will ever be
established by their unanimous consent, if, by an unequal
augmentation of opulence or power, it tends to break the rules of
proportion, and affects the order in which these nations stand
arranged on the general scale. But if national monopolies, founded
on the jealousy of sovereigns, may sometimes, as connected with
public security, be vindicated on the maxims of sound policy; yet,
surely, no such jealousy can reasonably subsist among communities
under the same government. On that government, at least, in reason
and in justice, they have an equal claim. Yet regulations partial
and oppressive we have seen in our days, and are too likely to see,
dissolved by violence, which ought to have been dissolved in part
by the mature wisdom of enlightened councils. Ireland, with arms in
her hand, seemed to dictate the late resolutions of the British
cabinet: resolutions which, if free and unconstrained, had formed
the glory of the present reign.
     Public reformation, indeed, must be gradual, and such as the
times will bear. What is best in theory, is not always attainable
in practice; and a wise government will proceed with caution in
authorizing changes, however just, reasonable, and beneficial to
the community at large, that are opposed to prejudices grown
inveterate by age. But every approach towards an equal legislation,
that can be made without disturbing the public tranquillity,
obviates the danger of rising discontents, and tends ultimately to
the harmony and stability of civil societies.
     Concessions, well-timed, to our American provinces, might have
prevented the fatal rupture, and even secured their allegiance for
ages. Yet those concessions, when at length extorted from us by an
apparent necessity, merit but little praise; and Britons will long
remember the language of that Great Man, who thus expostulated with
the Rulers of his Country, while our empire was yet entire: þAvoid
this humiliating, disgraceful necessity. -- With a dignity becoming
your exalted situation, make the first advances to concord, to
peace, and happiness: for that is your true dignity, to act with
prudence and with justice. -- That you should first concede, is
obvious from sound and rational policy. -- Concession comes with
better grace, and more salutary effect, from the superior power; it
reconciles superiority of power with the feelings of men; and
establishes solid confidence on the foundation of affection and
gratitude.þ
     But on these maxims of legislative wisdom I make no comment.
And with regard to those more complicated and nice discussions, the
tendency of national monopolies, and the genius of exclusive
companies, I will beg leave to refer my readers, for the fullest
information, to an Enquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth
of Nations: a work which will, probably, in future times, be
referred to in political science, as the first just and
systematical account that has appeared in any language, of the
principles of public oeconomy, and the phoenomena of commercial
states.
     Besides the influence of commerce, there are other causes, in
the progress of general improvement, by which the importance of
civil settlements is materially affected. The increase of a people
in a barren soil led formerly, by a species of necessity, to plans
of migration, of rapine, or of conquest. And civilized nations in
the antient world were able, with difficulty, to defend their
frontiers, when assailed by hungry and desperate barbarians. But
when arts and industries began to be excited in those countries,
which, for want of tillage and cultivation, had remained desolate
and barren, one cause began to be removed, which disturbed the
repose of nations.
     Thus the Danes, and other people in the high northern
latitudes, subsisting less precariously on the fruits of their own
industry, than their forefathers subsisted by piracy and war,
ceased to press with their incumbent weight the neighbouring
states, and permitted government to advance throughout the rest of
Europe. But if rude armies, as hostile and fierce as ever issued
from the storehouse of nations, were again to appear on the
frontiers of any European state, the contest would not be dubious;
the assailants only would feel the blow. By the invention of fire-
arms, which has changed by degrees the whole system of war, there
resides a power of resistance in every flourishing state, to which
the most furious efforts of rude and desparate heroism were opposed
in vain. War is now conducted at an expence which the exertions of
industry can only supply; and the superiority in arms, which once
resided with rude and poor nations, is transferred in modern ages
to the nations advanced in opulence and credit. Yet the diffusion
of knowledge gradually tends to reduce mankind more nearly to a
level in the enterprizes of peace and war. And that singular
invention, which seemed calculated for the destruction of mankind,
and which actually enabled a few adventurers from Europe to annex
a hemisphere to its dominion, tends in the issue to render battles
less bloody, conquests less rapid, and governments more secure than
in any former period.
     Upon the whole, we observe local advantages, which fluctuate
in every age, and often owe their existence and duration to a train
of independent events, to be of the least relative movement in the
most flourishing stage of the arts and sciences. But that
intercourse, which navigation opens, though abundantly sufficient
for the purposes of mercantile traffic and exchange, can seldom
form between distant nations so intimate connexions as arise from
vicinity of settlement. Geographical relation, therefore, will
always be, in some degree, instrumental in retarding or
accelerating, in every country, the progress of civil life.
Communities, as well as private persons, are formed by example. And
the character of a people must bear resemblance in manners, in
genius, and in arts, to that which predominates in the system with
which they are more immediately connected. Civility and rudeness
being distributed like light and darkness in the natural world,
contiguous nations are often contemporary in their progress and
decline: and the more enlightened regions, though always shifting,
form at any one time a complete and undivided whole, situated
around a common centre. But the various circumstances hitherto
under review, ought to be considered rather as occasions of
prosperous or adverse fortune, than as direct causes of human
perfection or debasement. The former ought, by no means, to be
confounded with the latter; nor the local circumstances we have
mentioned, with that more mysterious influence which, reaching the
principles of our nature, is supposed to produce original and
constitutional differences in the human species.