Friday, January 11, 2019

Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty, Part XXI: American Savior

By way of discussing some of the conclusions that Richard Price offered in the final sections of his forty-page anti-establishment pamphlet, Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty, it would seem prudent – if perhaps outwardly counter-intuitive – to first take several steps back in order to establish exactly how it was that this radical, Non-Conformist preacher settled upon the outlook which his various arguments and assertions ultimately served to endorse. The reason such an examination is necessary is that, while the parts and sections of Observations cited herein do successfully build towards the conclusion with which that document closes, perhaps the most crucial idea said conclusion offers does not figure explicitly into the overall structure of the piece. That is to say, though discussions of “the Principles of the Constitution” and “the Honor of the Nation” do serve the case which Price eventually determined to make, perhaps the most striking element thereof represented the culmination of a train of thought that can be found threaded throughout the relevant text rather than featured expansively. Indeed, one gets the impression that, rather than put pen to paper wholly secure in the knowledge of what point exactly he wanted to make, Price instead set out with certain ideas in mind about what it was he wanted to discuss and then let the actual process of writing lead him wherever it would. This lack of predetermination seems most evident in the way that, between the beginning and end of Observations, the basic concept upon which Price eventually settled his examination of the Anglo-American crisis appeared to be a source of inconsistency and contradiction.

The question which Price seemed most keen to answer – and which he accordingly appeared to grapple with across the length of Observations – was, essentially, whether it was preferable for the American colonies to maintain their traditional connection with Great Britain, or whether breaking away entirely was the better course of action. Doubtless this was a subject upon which many contemporary observers were given to ruminate, be they British or American, and which was almost certainly cause for intense philosophical debate among those who were given to consider the Anglo-American crisis as something more than a mere question of law and loyalty. Did it make sense for the American colonies to remain an integral component of the British Empire when the administrators thereof clearly held no reservations about abrogating the civil rights of the American people? Would the British people ultimately suffer by being deprived of their accustomed connection to America? Was it possible that the Anglo-American relationship had simply run its course? Provided that a person was not otherwise blinded by an overriding sense of pride or propriety – as a member of the North Ministry might be forgiven for being – inquiries such as this were fairly bound to occur.

Noteworthy in his day for being a radical and a reformer, it is perhaps unsurprising that Richard Price was one of the few among his fellow Britons to give public voice to such considerations, and to explore the implications of both positive and negative responses. Despite seeming particularly fitted to the role, however – and having a pretty definite bias in favor of the increasingly independence-minded American cause – the actual course of his engagement with these kinds of questions over the course of penning Observations betrays a decided uncertainty as to what, ultimately, the proper course amounted to. Consider, to that end, one dimension of Price’s thinking, offered in Part II, Section III. While discussing the degree to which the insistence of successive British governments upon their absolute authority in America had served to call too much attention to a legal and political relationship that could not easily be justified, Price asserted that, had Britain only left well enough alone,   
 
Luxury, and, together with it, their dependence upon us, and our influence in their assemblies, would have increased, till in time perhaps they would become as corrupt as ourselves; and we might have succeeded to our wishes in establishing authority over them.—But, happily for them, we have chosen a different course. By extensions of authority which have alarmed them, they have been put upon examining into the grounds of all our claims, and forced to give up their luxuries, and to seek all their resources within themselves [.]

Though ostensibly discussing the manner by which the North Ministry could have secured the loyalty of the American colonies rather than push them towards a course of rebellion, the manner in which he chose to express himself strongly indicates that Price’s mind was on another topic altogether.

Far from lamenting the loss of an opportunity by which Britain and American might have been bound more closely together, he instead exhibits an unambiguous sense of relief at the colonies being spared such a fate. Having previously made clear his unadulterated disdain for the luxury and corruption he believed was presently suffocating whatever virtue yet remained in British social and political life, Price accordingly declared it a happy accident that the heavy-handedness of the North Ministry had saved America from the same ignoble destiny by causing them to reject all things having to do with their colonial masters, “Give up their luxuries, and […] seek all their resources within themselves [.]” Thus described, the rupture of the Anglo-American relationship which developed over the course of the 1760s and 1770s appears a manifestly good thing for the colonists, having effectively cut off the possibility of any descent on their part to the kind of corruption and dissipation which certain segments of the British political and intellectual elite had been decrying for decades. Particularly noteworthy in this sentiment is a kind of implied self-abnegation not often given play within the generally hardnosed realm of politics. Though well aware of the many advantages the government in which he was represented and the society to which he belonged derived from continued British access to American resources and American markets, Price nonetheless seems to identify the ongoing preservation of American virtue – accomplished by the disruption of the Anglo-American relationship – as being of greater importance. Britain, he seemed inclined to conclude, was already too far gone in 1776 to avert the fate to which its love of wealth and luxury had doomed it. But America might have been saved, and so it most definitely should have been saved.

Price went on to express much the same sense of relief at America’s separation from Great Britain in Part II, Section V of Observations. In the midst of discussing what he considered to be the likelihood of British military force successfully quelling the incipient American rebellion, he notably remarked that,

As to their trade; having all the necessaries and the chief conveniences of life within themselves, they have no dependence upon it; and the loss of it will do them unspeakable good, by preserving them from the evils of luxury and the temptations of wealth; and keeping them in that state of virtuous simplicity which is the greatest happiness.

Again, Price seemed unable to stop himself from expressing his abiding disdain for the corruption to which he believed Great Britain had long-since succumbed. His country, he was more or less convinced, had become subsumed in a morass of wealth and ostentation, and was unwilling to defend its founding principles because it could no longer conceive of their formerly unquestioned value. That America would (unintentionally) be spared this moral disintegration was thus understandably a source of some relief. An unspoken but no less significant aspect of this conviction, of course, is that America could be spared because it had yet to become quite as preoccupied as British society with the lure of prosperity and ease. Evidently, Richard Price understood the various American colonies as collectively embodying something like a time capsule of pre-1690s Britain, unsullied by the overwhelming influence of central banking, stock-trading, placemen, and standing armies. Having thus far avoided the worst excesses of the modern British state, it doubtless pleased Price greatly to imagine that America should continue in this state indefinitely.

            This was, it must be said, a somewhat rosy portrait of things. Certainly, late 18th century America was devoid of many of the institutions and mechanisms of state with which Price most took issue in his native Britain. Prior to the 1780s – at which point, in 1782, the Bank of North America began its ill-fated attempt to establish a stable base of credit – there was no national bank with jurisdiction over the whole of the United States. Just so, there were no stock exchanges in America prior to the early 1790s, and the existence of a standing army under the command of the national government remained more or less anathema as late as 1796. And while there may well have been “placemen” serving within the various colonial governments – the legislative councils of New York and Virginia, for example, were both filled via appointment by the Crown, thus allowing for local favorites and loyalists to be given political influence in exchange for social or financial support – the limited size of the institutions in question compared to the vast bureaucracy that existed in contemporary Britain severely limited the extent to which a given American administration could become the plaything of the wealthy and influential. America, in short, as it existed within the larger British Empire, did not particularly resemble the seat of that empire in its basic political, economic, and institutional dynamics. This is not to say, however, that such things were not subject to change, or indeed were not bound to change in the event that the colonies in question found themselves suddenly in need of resources and institutions that they had not formerly required. War was an expensive proposition, financial stability a necessary ingredient of independence, and bureaucratic and military consolidation perhaps an inevitable consequence of a truly national administration being summoned into existence.

            The American colonies arguably could not have collectively assumed the powers and responsibilities formerly exercised by the British government without to some extent also becoming susceptible to the dangers therein. In order to finance such national projects as would be deemed necessary and prudent by the nascent government of the United States, money would need to be borrowed from somewhere, a line of credit would need to be established, and opportunities would accordingly arise for profiteering, personal enrichment, and the development of a general dependence on fast and easy wealth. Likewise, while the vastness of America’s likely frontier, combined with the existence of hostile native communities and European empires in close proximity, would seem to have rendered the creation of some manner of permanent military establishment a fait accompli, such an outcome was bound to carry with it the potential for any number of unintended consequences – from the creation of an aristocratic military class within American society to the emergence of a tyrannical central government with permanent military backing. Granting, as they say, that hindsight is 20/20, Price perhaps ought to be forgiven for failing to account for just how many of these outcomes would indeed shortly befall the nascent American union. He was, after all, a noted advocate for social and political reform, and thus – almost by necessity – given to imagine that things which to most people appeared wholly intractable were in fact entirely capable of being radically altered. In consequence, while most contemporary observers would likely have predicted that an independent America would, in due time and in large measure, eventually come to resemble the empire which it seemed otherwise bent on rejecting, Price was meanwhile intellectually inclined to imagine that it was possible for a free, stable, and prosperous government to be erected without necessarily resorting to the same methods which the ruling classes in his own country took entirely for granted.     

Be that as it may, however, it would be difficult – even when taking a decidedly liberal view of the subject – to imagine the post-Revolutionary history of the United States playing out in a manner other than it did in fact. Even in the event that the union of states entirely disintegrated – arguably the likeliest outcome that did not actually take place – the individual states would almost assuredly have been forced to adopt most of the trappings of nationhood which Price found to be the source of contemporary Britain’s particular woes. Though smaller by far than its national counterpart, a Massachusetts Army would certainly have posed the same threat to the people of that jurisdiction as a United States Army to the American people at large. Just so, while a Bank of New York or a Bank of Pennsylvania would inevitably have dealt in smaller amounts than a Bank of the United States, opportunities for corruption, embezzlement, and financial manipulation would have abounded all the same. There would almost certainly have been attempts at innovation, particularly in terms of structure, terms of office, and the availability of the franchise. Pennsylvania’s unorthodox 1776 constitution, which vested power in a twelve-member council rather than a singular chief executive, would seem to affirm the likelihood thereof. But in such matters as would involve interfacing with the wider world – the establishment of international credit, for example, or national defense – it seems rather difficult to imagine how even the most dedicated American Whigs could have avoided all of the sins which were arguably endemic to late 18th century European-style statehood.
 
            The purpose of this series, of course – nay, this entire project – is not to call into question the judgment of the featured authors, but to strive to understand them and their words more completely and more complexly. In consequence, while Price was almost certainly guilty within the passages cited above of taking a somewhat naïve view of the “purity” and “virtue” he perceived in contemporary American society and culture, what matters in the present context is that he truly believed the words which he ultimately put to paper. In consequence, regardless of whether he was ultimately proven to be right or wrong, the assertions which Price endeavored to advance within the text of Observations should generally be interpreted as having been wholly sincere. Consider, to that end, a further passage from Part II, Section V. Having once more given vent to his spleen over the supposedly degenerated state of contemporary Britain, Price rallied by way of observing that,

In America we see a number of rising states in the vigour of youth, inspired by the noblest of all passions, the passion for being; free; and animated by piety.—Here we see an old state, great indeed, but inflated and irreligious; enervated by luxury; encumbered with debts; and hanging by a thread.—Can any one look without pain to the issue?

Once again, he seemed unable to resist making known his evident belief that the separation of the American colonies from the British Empire was likely for the best given the much corroded state of British virtue. America, to his thinking, was possessed of youthful vigor, nobility, piety, and passion, all of which he seemed to feel were virtues in and of themselves. Britain, by comparison, was “enervated by luxury; encumbered with debts; and hanging by a thread.” Whatever one’s national attachments, Price’s characterization of these qualities fairly clearly implied, it was thus the better part of wisdom to sympathize with the nascent United States. Britain had arguably gone past the point where it was any longer possible to shrug off the vices that had since the 1690s so completely transformed its political culture, and there could be no purpose in hoping that a reversal would take place. America, therefore, represented the next great bastion of civil liberty in the classical Whig tradition, and the best chance for such fundamental freedoms as ostensibly guaranteed by the British Constitution to survive into the 19th century.

Bearing all of this in mind, it is rather unfortunate that Price’s hopes would at length be dashed. Banking – on the local, state, and national level – would soon enough become a central pillar of the American economy, stock trading and land speculation would become a favored pastime of the wealthy elite, and a bureaucracy the likes of which the individual colonies could never have supported would very shortly take shape. The United States, for better or worse, would become a nation like many others, powerful in some ways and flawed in others, but in no sense immune to the worst aspects of power, politics, and money. Though Price did not live to see this transformation – having passed away in 1791 – Thomas Jefferson did. A radical reformer of much the same opinion as Price on a number of subjects, it would accordingly seem a safe assumption that the reaction of the Sage of Monticello to the evolution of the American republic from virginal stronghold of piety and virtue to bustling fiscal-military state might be taken as a reasonable gauge of how the author of Observations would himself have measured the socio-economic progress of the American communities in which he held such a keen and passionate interest. Consider, to that end, a passage from a letter written by Jefferson in May of 1816 to fellow Virginian John Taylor (1753-1824). At seventy-three years old, and having just watched the nation he helped build struggle mightily to fund a second sustained military conflict against Great Britain, the author of the Declaration of Independence declared that banking – in which the outcome of said war had prompted a renewed interest – was,

A blot left in all our constitutions, which, if not covered, will end in their destruction, which is already hit by the gamblers in corruption, and is sweeping away in its progress the fortunes and morals of our citizens.

President James Madison, it bears noting – friend, ally, and protégé of Jefferson – had gone against longstanding Republic Party dogma by agreeing to charter a second national bank in April of 1816. Jefferson’s lament to John Taylor the following month was thus likely motivated in equal parts by personal as well as philosophical frustration. That being said, considering the degree to which Price seemed to align with the Sage of Monticello in their common ideological and moral aversion to high finance, it would seem far from a stretch to imagine the author of Observations reacting in much the same way. Notwithstanding the hope he manifested in the 1770s, America would at length have disappointed him if he had but lived long enough to see it.     

            He did not, of course, and that was very possibly for the best. In spite of the cynicism with which he appeared to regard the culture and politics of his homeland, Richard Price was, in the general tenor of his philosophical outlook, an idealist at heart. Britain, he time and again affirmed, may well have become corrupted beyond redemption, but the inhabitants of the Thirteen Colonies yet had a great deal for which to be thankful and hopeful. Having separated themselves from the corrupting influences inherent to the structure and function of the contemporary British state, they were accordingly secure in the preservation of that quality of liberty and virtue to which the people of Britain proper could no longer lay claim. Not only did this bode well for the American colonists – now safe from the degeneracy which had terminally infected Britain – but the world at large stood to benefit from the result. Speaking to this rather lofty claim in the aforementioned Part II, Section V, Price asserted that,     
  
It may be permitted on purpose to favor them, and in them the rest of mankind; by making way for the establishment, in an extensive country possessed of every advantage, a plan of government, and a growing power that shall astonish the world, and under which every subject of human inquiry shall be open to free discussion, and the friends to Liberty, in every quarter of the globe, find a safe retreat from civil and spiritual tyranny.

Here, it seemed, the author of Observations was willing to allow his overriding disdain for the worst aspects of contemporary British politics and culture – and his abiding admiration for America’s apparent rejection thereof – to transform what was formerly a good in itself into something of manifest value to mankind at large.

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