[ADDRESS ON THE DISSOLUTION OF NATIONS]

William Paterson

[Note: the following document was written by William Paterson while he was a student at Princeton University. It was untitled and unpublished but written in the style used by American Whigs in their opposition to British “tyranny.”]

The rise and fall of empires compose the most curious and interesting part of history. To trace a mighty state from its earliest to its latest stage, to observe its most signal occurrences, to note its most memorable revolutions [events], to pay close attention to its several advances in knowledge, & in particular to remark the causes of its decline and fall, is at once highly amusing and instructive. Nations, like men, it is true, arrive at maturity by degrees; their progress is slow, is gradual, & step by step. In kingdoms a rapid increase of power is rare; a rapid increase in knowledge rarer still: in turning over the pages of history we sometimes meet with instances of the former, whereas instances of the latter seldom, if ever, occur.

It must indeed be confessed, that we know little of the rise of states. View those of antient date? What can we say of their origin? In vain we recur to history. The writers of antient Greece & Rome darken and perplex; they retail idle fictions, & deal in preposterous fables; they amuse us indeed pleasingly enough with the achievements of those whom they call the founders of their states, & whom they make to be divinely inspired, or nearly allied to their gods. Such stories are admirably adapted to soothe national vanity, and in particular accord finely with the heathen mythology: they may aid the flights of the poet, but degrade the dignity of the historian; they may decorate the pages of the former, but debase those of the latter. The origin of modern states is to the full as uncertain & obscure.

Of England, for instance, what knows we prior to, and indeed for several centuries after the invasion of Caesar? The traditions of the vulgar, the songs of the druids, & the fables of canonized monks may be classed in the same rank, & are equally unworthy of regard. And yet these are the sources from whence we derive our knowledge? Every incident was eagerly laid hold of that tended to gratify superstitious curiosity; every petty story, however groundless, that tended to please national vanity was dwelt upon with rapture, and coming from a druid or a monk carried in it a sort of oracular dignity. In short, events that might perhaps at first be founded in truth were so worked up, & coloured by the pencil of fiction, that, though they pleased for awhile, are now justly and universally exploded. Truth and falsehood indeed, like light and shade in a picture, so run into one another, that it is impossible to tell where the one ends or the other begins.

The declension & fall of kingdoms is more certain; and though the existence of a state cannot be prolonged beyond the decree of heaven, yet its dissolution may in general be fairly accounted for by natural means. Physicians tell us, that from our birth there is some peccant humour in the body, which gradually increases, & at length brings on its dissolution: so in the body politick; the principles of death are interwoven in the very frame and texture of every political establishment. Some ruinous vice, some dead‑doing principle creeps in and grows up with the institution, which, though at first imperceptible, & perhaps not discerned till it has arrived at too great a head, secretly debilitates, & at length totally destroyes the government. And the mischief is, that this defect will some time or other bouy uppermost, and, when it does, is generally fastened upon by men of a daring and aspiring cast. In exalted stations persons of eminent abilities & unbounded ambition frequently break in upon the principles of the constitution, &, if joined to an innovating spirit, seldom fail to model the government anew. It is observable when the fate of a nation is at its crisis, it rarely, if ever, happens that men of a pestilential turn are wanting to lay hold of the occasion, & urge on the ruin: like vultures they hover around to prey upon & devour it.

In a state limited like the British, it is of the utmost moment, to preserve the balance of power between the several branches of government, & as the bounds assigned to each are accurately ascertained, not to suffer the smallest encroachment, as it will be an inlet to tyranny. The privileges of the king, & those of the people, when stretched beyond constitutional bounds, are equally destructive; the first introduces despotism, & the latter anarchy, which generally ends in the tyranny of a single person. One cannot be enlarged but at the expense of the other. And yet it is no infrequent thing to hear shallow politicians and pretending patriots make and industriously keep up a mighty clamour about preserving the balance of power among neighbouring & independent states, at the very [same] time they are struggling hard to destroy it in the very government under which they live. In every state, it is necessary to preserve the balance within as the balance without. This is an unerring rule, & ought on no account to be dispensed with. The instant this balance within is destroyed, the kingdom verges fast to its fall, & tyranny begins. The scales must be kept in a poize; and though perhaps factions will perpetually spring up in every government friendly to liberty, yet they should never be suffered to get so far ahead, as to destroy or even endanger any part of the legislative body.

It is an eternal truth, that all faction tends to tyranny; history evinces, that, let whichsoever party prevail, the people are sure to be oppressed; every party has a separate interest; every party thinks this interest the interest of the community, though it is apparent, that in proportion as it gains ground liberty declines: every party does more or so less take humour, prejudice, & passion for principle, & therefore the interest of a party & that of a state is for the most part totally different. How then ought we to detect those princes and men, who espouse or create a party in order to disunite the people? Such instances are to be met with in the annals of anticent days; such too are to be met with in more modern times. Princes of this cast have always some iniquitious scheme in view: they hope perhaps amidst the shock of contending parties to effect what otherwise they could not. It must, at the same time, be confessed, that parties in a state are often extremely serviceable; they tend to make administration vigilant & active; to restrain those in power from running into exorbitances; to keep them close to duty; & in general to make them walk in the track prescribed by law. It is therefore a mark of declension in a state, when grievances, though complained of, & abuses, though petitioned against, remain unredressed; when public defaulters, though accused, & ministers, though impeached, pass unchastised, & even unnoticed. It shows the strength of the one party, & the impotence of the other; it shows, that the former may deviate most grossly from the known rule of law, & make the most terrible inroads upon the constitution, with impunity.

Here it may not be amiss just to take notice of an error extremely common & no less fatal. The constitution of a state is often broke in upon "to serve a present expedient, or to supply a present exigency." Ministers are too frequently led to this capital error as might be readily shewn by a number of instances: they do it perhaps to procure ease & quiet from some pressing disturbance, perhaps to rid themselves of an instant perplexity, or to allay the tumult & clamour of a vexatious & unreasonable populace. Nothing is more unwise than so far to give way to popular clamour as to make a breach in the constitution; one encroachment naturally leads to another, till at length the civil establishment is wholly overthrown. This resembles extremely the conduct of an empirick, who administers medicine, that may for awhile abate the fierceness of the disorder, though it is sure to return with redoubled pain & severity. An ungovernable & usurping populace (to use the words of an eminent writer) is its own dupe; a mere underworker, & purchaser in trust for some single tyrant, whose state & power they advance to their own ruin, with as blind an instinct, as those worms that die with weaving magnificent habits for beings of a superior nature to their own. "Slavery is generally Preceded by sleep." All history confirms, that times of imaginary security are commonly times of the greatest danger. A spirit of jealousy is extremely necessary, & ought never to abate; so long as a people are apprehensive of losing their liberties, they are generally free.

It is an unquestionable truth, that most governments, perhaps all, naturally tend to tyranny; every nation therefore that has freedom to lose should be particularly watchful over the conduct of its rulers: and the greater the abilities of the prince or his ministers, the more vigilance & jealously are necessary on the part of the subject. It has therefore an appearance of fatality when a people are at ease & thoughtless, inattentive to the conduct of their rulers, & sink, as it were, into langour, & a state of insuperable lethargy. As mariners, who, because the current is smooth and the sky serene, think they glide securely over the deep, are often dashed against rocks, overthrown, and lost. "Whenever a perfect calm is visible in a free state, the spirit of liberty no longer exists." An artful prince, abetted by a set of obsequious dependents, generally prepossesses the people in his favour, & does every thing in his power to beguile them into a belief of their security, & indeed fairly to lay them asleep. His first acts of oppression wear the semblance of law; he breaks in upon their privileges little by little, & is extremely cautious to cloathe every violent measure [thing he does] in the venerable garb of legal authority. Like a river of an easy & silent flow, which imperceptibly undermines its banks, till at last overwhelming them in an instant, it pours an innundation, & lays waste every thing before it. Oppression, when undisguised, excites horror; some colour must be given to acts of injustice; if they be exposed in their native hue, they at once shock the publick eye. Danger is then most imminent when the appearance of justice is maintained. The form of law is made use of merely to destroy the substance. Instance of this kind are frequent in antient & modern story.

It is another most deadly symptom in a constitution, when a standing army is regularly kept up in times of the profoundest peace. Armies now‑a‑days, especially among the European princes, are kept constantly in pay. Were the present race of Britons like their ancestors of old, or the antient Romans, a standing army would not wear so terrible an aspect; then every citizen was a soldier, & every soldier was a citizen; now soldiery is become a trade & looked upon as a distinct profession. Standing armies, it is probable, were originally introduced in favour of usurpation, or to keep conquered & distant provinces in awe. When artful & ambitious men had overturned the liberties of their country, it became necessary, in order to preserve the power they had usurped to keep up a body of [maintain] mercenaries or hired troops. It must be confessed, that they are to this day of excellent use & tried efficacy to allay the turbulence of an enraged populace, to quell insurrections, & abet the destructive schemes of ambitious spirits. In a state however that boasts of freedom, & political liberty, a standing army may be & often is attended with mischievous consequences. In the early stages of the Roman republick, & indeed of the English monarchy, none were allowed to enter into military service but men of approved property. Such fought for the sake of glory, for the sake of the publick, & not for the sake of gain. In Rome their dictators were often taken from the plough; they fought, they overcame, were decreed triumphs, & to the plough returned. When citizens compose the bulk of an army, & are in rotation obliged to take up arms, it bodes safety, stability, & glory to a state. But when the mass of common soldiers are made up of persons of no property, of profligate manners, & abandoned principles; when too they conceive themselves as a distinct body in a state, & look upon the interest of the people as opposed to their own; who can think of so graceless [mercenary] a crew in any other light than as tools of oppression, & instruments in the hands of an enterprizing spirit to work out the ruin of a state? On the dissolution of the Roman commonwealth, troops, composed chiefly of the dregs of the people, were kept constantly in pay; & we find, that they were principal instruments in the election & dethronement of their princes or emperors. They executed the mischievous schemes & tyrannical designs of those in power with wonderful facility, & the most unrelenting rigour & severity. Military vengence then "hung over the heads of the people, like a sword, that threatened them with extermination at a single blow."

The accessive opulence of some & extreme poverty of others is in every free state a sure sign of declension. Great inequality in the circumstances of the people give rise to perpetual clamour & discord. To prevent the fatal effects of extreme wealth on the one hand, & extreme poverty on the other, a community of goods was established at Sparta, & an equal distribution of land at Rome. This latter circumstance alone was sufficient to make a nation happy, powerful, & great; this gave internal harmony & peace; this too gave irresistable force to their arms, as the interest of every individual was even & the same. It may truly be said, that the equal distribution of lands was the chief cause of the grandeur of Rome: it enabled her at first to rise above her lowly condition, & at length to soar to the most elevated pitch of power.

Another source of calamity & mark of declension is multiplicity of laws; "as evident a token, say politicians, of corruption in states, as diversity of medicine is of distempers in a body". Laws swelled to an enormous bulk, & multiplied to an almost endless variety have a natural tendency to elude justice, introduce chicanery, & keep up a spirit of contention. In all well regulated governments, laws are as few as possible, and cloathed in language clear, simple, & concise: no room then is left for the display of ingenuity, the over‑nice acuteness of genius, or the subtle refinements of sophistry. It must be confessed, that few regulations are necessary in petty states: the case is quite different in great & commercial nations: the latter require a variety & number of laws, which it is impossible to throw together in a narrow compass. When laws are too numerous & complicated, or, if they do not err on this score, too vague & obscure, a spirit of litigation will seize upon every class of people, & render life vexatious & troublesome. Every one, with the law in his hand, will be eternally wrangling about its meaning, & will endeavour to put a gloss upon it, that may run in with some selfish design, or most effectually serve a particular turn.

Here it may not be amiss just to observe, that it is an additional symptom of declension in a state when the execution of the laws is entrusted to persons, who are grossly ignorant, & conceited, as well as notoriously partial, needy, & dependent. Perhaps all officers, but especially such as preside in courts of justice, ought to be independent equally of the king & people: of the first for the sake of 1 iberty, of the latter for the sake of prerogative. When the bulk of persons in a nation are anxious of being rich rather than great, it is an evident token of degeneracy & ruin. When commerce is carried on merely to increase opulence, & raise plentiful fortunes, the state can be looked upon only as a trading body, or society of merchants, who have no other cement, or bond of union, but an immoderate desire of gain, & increasing hope of profit. Then patriotism, one of the most noble of affections, gradually declines, & at last wholly dies away. Then the happiness & glory of the nation is wholly disregarded, especially when the publick interest comes in competition with private. When the publick good happens to run in with the spirit of selfishness, then indeed they assume the garb of patriotism [semblance of patriots], and are in commonly active & clamourous, zealous & violent.

Great and unlimited extent of dominion generally forebodes approaching ruin. This was in some measure the case of the Roman republick: it sunk beneath its own burden, it was crushed by its own weight. The Romans grasped at universal dominion; they attained & preserved it for awhile; but what they so eagerly wished for, so incessantly pursued, & at last arrived at, proved fatal, and brought their fall. The Romans aimed at universal despotism, seized upon all, & the grasp was ruin. Their laws were too weak, they were indeed excellently calculated to make a people great & powerful, but were by no means fitted to preserve them so. Their laws were admirably formed for a petty state as Rome was in her dawn; but were miserably suited for a mighty republick, as Rome was in her noon‑tide splendor, & in the close of her political existence. Oh that kingdoms would grow wise by the example of others, & learn that great & rapid accessions of power do for the most part denote as great & rapid ruin. Like a river swelled by a sudden fall of water, it over flows its crest and appears indeed majestick, but destroys & not fertilizes the land through which it makes its way. It is an unerring truth, though not sufficiently attended to, that popular governments in particular ought never to run any risks that may expose them to adversity or even to prosperity.

In all wise & well instigated republicks private property, personal liberty, & in short every privilege is secured & guarded in the strongest manner. Happy beyond the bulk of mankind they who live under such governments! What more can a people wish for? What more should a people aim at? To ensure this happiness they must endeavour to perpetuate the state, or at least to prolong its period [date]. This should be the ruling principle, this should be the first ambition of their souls. Wars therefore the rulers of such institutions ought studiously [carefully] to avoid; if they take up arms, (which at times is inevitable), it should be on the best motives, & for the justest cause. For war however successfully carried on insensibly exhausts a nation, & endangers its destruction: war interrupts the course of trade, depopulates the country, relaxes the force of laws, & what is still worse, imperceptibly brings on corruption of manners. Rome, unacquainted with the tranquility & sweet calm of a pacifick life, was almost continually at war; Rome was too generally victorious, & at last enslaved the globe: her conquests however only paved the way to ruin; by destroying others, she destroyed herself.

A rapid succession of expensive wars, arising chiefly from continental connections, has, within less than a century, begat in the British government a new mischief of a terrible aspect. The national debt, the unhappy consequence of long & chargeable wars, is now swelled to an enormous sum & must fill every breast with the most alarming apprehensions. Already its effects are severely felt: trade is burdened with heavy imposts, & taxes of every kind surprisingly increased. Look forward, & a prospect still more dreadful opens to view. Little hope of lessening the incumbrace, & none at all of clearing it entirely off. The mischief however since it cannot be removed must take its course. Reflect for a moment on the amazing sum; think over its effects, pursue it in it consequences, & then say where will the mischief stop. France can tell us, that natural bankruptcy is disgraceful and ruinous; it throws a state into confusion, creates violent dissensions, and oppresses thousands. It is worthy of repetition, because matter of moment, that war should be carefully avoided by a free state; since even a succession of victories, & enlargements of dominion generally prove ruinous. Like the sick man mentioned by Swift, who was just expiring with all sorts of good symptoms.

It would be an endless task to count over all the tokens of ruin in a state; and therefore I shall close my discourse with dwelling a little upon luxury and corruption of manners. The doctrine of Epicurus had pernicious influence on the genius and morals of the people towards the close of the Roman republick; and perhaps tended not a little to precipitate its fall. It may not be amiss to observe, that in our country the tribe of deists, free thinkers, etc. have conduced mightily to bring on corruption & dissoluteness of manners. What indeed can be expected from a set of men, who look upon virtue as romantick or nominal & a zeal for religion as superstitious or idle? It is extremely obvious how fatal tenets of this sort must be especially if espoused by persons of considerable learning, of shining [great] abilities, and the most pleasing address. That every species & degree of voluptuousness will proportionately weaken both the body & the mind is an incontestable truth. Luxury effeminates & torments the opulent, & tempts the indigent, who are destitute of the means of pleasure, to acquire them by fraud & violence. Luxury turns the brave into cowards, & the industrious into thieves. Luxury begets profusion, profusion begets want, & want begets venality & dependence. A general depravity of manners is the necessary consequence of unbounded opulence, which poisons every rank in life, and generally proves the bane of affluent states. The most chargeable & destructive superfluities are considered as the necessaries of life; these grow upon us every hour [day], & people now‑a‑days cannot subsist without articles, which a few years ago were wholly unknown. This luxury too is dressed up as a virtue, & is called taste, elegance, politeness, fashion. It is cultivated as a virtue, it is commended as a refinement, & makes its way through every rank as the fashion. Its contagion infects both high & low, "the great & vulgar and the small." The nobles imitate the prince, the middle class the nobles, and the poor those immediately above them.

Luxury converts the very food that should nourish life into a poison that destroys it: luxury brings on disease, often a complication of disorders, which always embitters the close of life, & shrouds her unhappy votaries early in the tomb. The lapse to luxury is indeed soft & imperceptible; her ways too are at first smooth & flowery; for awhile her followers wanton in abundance & riot in voluptuousness; for awhile deaf to the voice of reason & the call of virtue, nothing is listened to but the musick of adulation & the song of pleasure. Happy could they for ever silence conscience in the roar of obstreperous jollity, & banish reflection, an unwelcome guest, which gnaws along the bosom, like an adder, & which in spite of their utmost efforts, breaks in upon the hour of mirth, dashes the brightest joys with sorrow & pours poison in the bowl of sensuality. Luxury lures from the path of duty, & beguiles into vice; luxury taints the morals, & vitiates the manners, sinks into weakness & melts into effeminate softness. Luxury lulls only to enfeeble, soothes only to unnerve, & circelike turns men into brutes. A pleasing langour steals upon the heart, & like poison it glides from vein to vein, diffuses itself through every part of the body attended with a kind of contagious influence. Bad examples too press in upon every side; even persons virtuously inclined yield insensibly, & unable to resist the torrent suffer it gently to wash them along. "Luxury sheds odours, roses, sheds unheeded bane." Nor is this an imaginary description; every close & careful observer must confess its truth. Lo! what splendid edifices, what costly furniture, what magnificent apparel, what voluptuous festivity, & what luxurious banquets! The enfeebling lull of musick, sprightly dances, gay gardens, splendid theatres, gilded baths, intoxicating masquerades, luxuriant tables, & publick gaming houses are now looked upon as innocent & even necessary gratifications. How often are fortunes dissipated, & health impaired in loose festivity, & luxurious enjoyments? The ladies too have their amusements, their ruelles, their visiting-days, their routs, and their hurricanes. Day is turned into night, & night into day; all is mirth & sport & dissipation; all distinctions are lost, & all conditions are confounded.

What rapid progress has luxury made even in these infant colonies? We tread close upon the heels of our brethren in Britain; we imitate them in dress, in manners, in equipage, in riot, in voluptuousness, in every softening pleasure & degrading vice. Infatuated Americans! so swiftly to lay hold of every luxurious habit, & so eagerly to lick up every foreign & pernicious vice. Where now is that simplicity in manners & in dress more enchanting far than the false glitter & borrowed refinements of arts? Where (suffer me for a moment to address the fairer part of creation,) is that sweet & tender sensibility more engaging even than beauty? Where is the chastity of manners, & mild dignity of aspect, which so captivates the affections, & wins upon the heart? Where is that blush of modesty, which gives to female charms the highest lauds, & animates every feature with a bloom more bright than art can confer? Where is the reserve & diffidence, that gentleness & meekness, which a few years ago were looked upon as the peculiar virtues & distinguishing graces of the sex? Instead of these do we not see the immodest stare, the studied look, the flaunting dress, the dissolute gait, the artful & expressive glances, which wander from object to object in hope of conquests, & in search after those of the men? What crowds of females lay themselves out for observation, make themselves cheap in the publick view, & decorate themselves for open & immediate show? The fops & libertines of the age, to whom they are easy of access, look upon their loose airs as invitations, & scarcely treat them with common respect. What swarms of youthful beauties (& more provoking still of old ones too) bask in the shine of fortune, & flutter on from toy to toy, from vanity to vice, the glitter of a season, or the meteor of a day?

But to return. Is not a nation far gone in luxury & on the verge of ruin, when places are made merchandize & merely bought & sold, when most things are carried by a bare majority often procured by little arts, when electors "give up their dirty souls for pay" & when in short corruption is reduced to a system? Is not a nation far gone in luxury, when crowds of prostitutes set themselves up for sale, when the land swarms with spies & parasites & sycophants, when nothing is sought for but wealth to sate avarice, & titles to sate vanity? Is it not an evident token of degeneracy & mark of declension, when pensions are bestowed undeservedly, & taxes multiplied unnecessarily, merely to keep up a number of obsequious dependants, or a legion of rescally taxgatherers? When trade is fettered with severe restrictions, when the people groan under an enormous national debt, when selfishness, venality, & licentiousness universally prevail, is not the prospect terrible, has it not an appearance of fatality?

What can be expected of a state where dissolute manners predominate, & luxury riots without controul; where the national treasure is expended to serve detested purposes of corruption, where publick offices totally useless are created with large salaries annexed to them, & where swarms of pensionary vultures are hourly increasing, & prey upon the vitals of the constitution? Does not a nation totter on the brink of destruction, does it not verge fast to its fall, when the balance within is not equally poised, when one of the branches makes daring inroads upon, & like Aaron's serpent, threatens to swallow up, all the rest? Terrible indeed, when every thing is little & base & venal among a people; when so far from having the virtues, they have not even the vices of great men! To these particulars let Rome, let Athens, let Sparta speak. Luxury perverts the genius, corrupts the morals, breaks the spirit of a people, & so fits them for slavery [slaves] . What but luxury rendered Assyria so easy a conquest to Cyrus? What but luxury enabled Alexander in so short a period to subdue all Persia, & like the rush of whirlwinds, to sweep every thing before him? Was it not luxury too, that enabled Attila, with his tribe of undisciplined barbarians, to lay the western empire under contribution, &, like a raging pestilence, to spread destruction wherever he turned? Lo! Caesar mounted on luxury, triumphed over the liberties of his country, poured desolation, like a rapid torrent, over half the globe, & swam in Roman blood. All history declares, that the dissolute, the voluptuous, & effeminate have ever been subdued by the hardy, the temperate & the brave.

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William Paterson Family Papers, Collection #541, Box 1, Folder 14, Political Essays and Addresses, Rare Book and Manuscripts, Firestone Library, Princeton University.