the
same base subjection of the people, the same bloody maxims of a
suspicious policy. In one respect the _aristocracy_ is worse than the
_despotism_. A body politic, whilst it retains its authority, never
changes its maxims; a _despotism_, which is this day horrible to a
supreme degree, by the caprice natural to the heart of man, may, by the
same caprice otherwise exerted, be as lovely the next; in a succession,
it is possible to meet with some good princes. If there have been
Tiberiuses, Caligulas, Neros, there have been likewise the serener days
of Vespasians, Tituses, Trajans, and Antonines; but a body politic is
not influenced by caprice or whim, it proceeds in a regular manner, its
succession is insensible; and every man as he enters it, either has, or
soon attains, the spirit of the whole body. Never was it known that an
_aristocracy_, which was haughty and tyrannical in one century, became
easy and mild in the next. In effect, the yoke of this species of
government is so galling, that whenever the people have got the least
power, they have shaken it off with the utmost indignation, and
established a popular form. And when they have not had strength enough
to support themselves, they have thrown themselves into the arms of
_despotism_, as the more eligible of the two evils. This latter was the
case of Denmark, who sought a refuge from the oppression of its
nobility, in the strong hold of arbitrary power. Poland has at present
the name of republic, and it is one of the _aristocratic_ form; but it
is well known that the little finger of this government is heavier than
the loins of arbitrary power in most nations. The people are not only
politically, but personally slaves, and treated with the utmost
indignity. The republic of Venice is somewhat more moderate; yet even
here, so heavy is the _aristocratic_ yoke, that the nobles have been
obliged to enervate the spirit of their subjects by every sort of
debauchery; they have denied them the liberty of reason, and they have
made them amends by what a base soul will think a more valuable liberty,
by not only allowing, but encouraging them to corrupt themselves in the
most scandalous manner. They consider their subjects as the farmer does
the hog he keeps to feast upon. He holds him fast in his sty, but allows
him to wallow as much as he pleases in his beloved filth and gluttony.
So scandalously debauched a people as that of Venice is to be met with
nowhere else. High, l