and rendered more securely despotic:—“But
this is entirely lost sight of by the people, who,
even at the present day, imagine that the parliament
is all-powerful, and the sovereign powerless.
But I must be allowed to say, that those ancient monarchs
acted wisely, and the result of their policy has not
been sufficiently perceived.... For when parliament
was constituted, the power of retaining armed vassals
and servants, which the barons had enjoyed for so
long a period, was abolished, and has never been resumed
even by princes of the blood; so that they could no
longer resist the authority of the king, who alone
had the privilege of raising and maintaining troops—a
right never conceded to parliament. Besides this
the powers of life and death, and of declaring war,
were identified with the person of the sovereign;
and with respect to the latter, it is never, until
it has been decided upon, even intimated to the parliament,
which possesses
only the power of collecting
the taxes, from which the expenses of the war the
king may enter into must be paid. The possession,
therefore, of these two rights by the king, is equivalent
to the tenure of absolute power.” The possibility
of the supplies being refused by a refractory House
of Commons, seems either not to have occurred to the
khan, or to have escaped his recollection at the moment
of his penning this sentence; and though he subsequently
alludes to the responsibility of ministers, he never
seems to have comprehended the nature and extent of
the control exercised by parliament over the finances
of the nation, so fully as the Persian princes, who
tell us, in their quaint phraseology, that “if
the expenses that were made should be agreeable to
the Commons, well and good—if not, the
vizirs must stand the consequences; and every person
who has given ten
tomans of the revenue, has
a right to rise up in the House of Commons, and seize
the vizir of the treasury by the collar, saying, ‘What
have you done with my money?’”—a
mode of
putting to the question which, if now
and then practically adopted by some hard-fisted son
of the soil, we have no doubt would operate as a most
salutary check on the vagaries of Chancellors of the
Exchequer.
It is strange that the Khan should not, in this case,
perceive the fallacy of his own argument, or see that
the power of the sword must always virtually rest
with the holder of the purse; since immediately afterwards,
after enlarging on the enormous amount of taxes levied
in England, the oppressive nature of some of them,
especially the window-tax, “for the light of
heaven is God’s gift to mankind,” he proceeds—“In
other countries it would perhaps cost the king, who
imposed such taxes, his head; but here the blame is
laid on the House of Commons, without any one dreaming
of censuring the sovereign, in whose name they are
levied, and for whose use they are applied;”
citing as a proof of this the ease with which the
insurrection of Wat Tyler and his followers, against