On the other hand, power turns the very vices of the
most worthless adventurer, his selfish ambition, his
sordid cupidity, his vanity, his cowardice, into a
sort of public spirit. The most greedy and cruel
wrecker that ever put up false lights to lure mariners
to their destruction will do his best to preserve
a ship from going to pieces on the rocks, if he is
taken on board of her and made pilot; and so the most
profligate Chancellor of the Exchequer most wish that
trade may flourish, that the revenue may come in well,
and that he may be able to take taxes off instead
of putting them on. The most profligate First
Lord of the Admiralty must wish to receive news of
a victory like that of the Nile rather than of a mutiny
like that at the Nore. There is, therefore, a
limit to the evil which is to be apprehended from
the worst ministry that is likely ever to exist in
England. But to the evil of having no ministry,
to the evil of having a House of Commons permanently
at war with the executive government, there is absolutely
no limit. This was signally proved in 1699 and
1700. Had the statesmen of the junto, as soon
as they had ascertained the temper of the new Parliament,
acted as statesmen similarly situated would now act,
great calamities would have been averted. The
chiefs of the opposition must then have been called
upon to form a government. With the power of
the late ministry the responsibility of the late ministry
would have been transferred to them; and that responsibility
would at once have sobered them. The orator whose
eloquence had been the delight of the Country party
would have had to exert his ingenuity on a new set
of topics. There would have been an end of his
invectives against courtiers and placemen, of piteous
meanings about the intolerable weight of the land
tax, of his boasts that the militia of Kent and Sussex,
without the help of a single regular soldier, would
turn the conquerors of Landen to the right about.
He would himself have been a courtier; he would himself
have been a placeman; he would have known that he
should be held accountable for all the misery which
a national bankruptcy or a French invasion might produce;
and, instead of labouring to get up a clamour for the
reduction of imposts, and the disbanding of regiments,
he would have employed all his talents and influence
for the purpose of obtaining from Parliament the means
of supporting public credit, and of putting the country
in a good posture of defence. Meanwhile the statesmen
who were out might have watched the new men, might
have checked them when they were wrong, might have
come to their help when, by doing right, they had raised
a mutiny in their own absurd and perverse faction.
In this way Montague and Somers might, in opposition,
have been really far more powerful than they could
be while they filled the highest posts in the executive
government and were outvoted every day in the House
of Commons. Their retirement would have mitigated
envy; their abilities would have been missed and regretted;