repealed, Pitt would have gone even further. He would have acknowledged the
absolute injustice of taxation without representation. Burke held tenaciously to
the opposing theory, and warmly supported the Declaratory Act, which "asserted
the supreme authority of Parliament over the colonies, in all cases whatsoever."
His support of the bill for the repeal of the Stamp Act, as well as his plea for
reconciliation, ten years later, were not prompted by a firm belief in the
injustice of England's course. He expressly states, in both cases that to
enforce measures so repugnant to the Americans, would be detrimental to the home
government. It would result in confusion and disorder, and would bring, perhaps,
in the end, open rebellion. All of his speeches on American affairs show his
willingness to "barter and compromise" in order to avoid this, but nowhere is
there a hint of fundamental error in the Constitution. This was sacred to him,
and he resented to the last any proposition looking to an organic change in its
structure. "The lines of morality," he declared, "are not like ideal lines of
mathematics. They are broad and deep, as well as long. They admit of exceptions;
they demand modifications. These exceptions and modifications are made, not by
the process of logic, but the rules of prudence. Prudence is not only first in
rank of all the virtues, political and moral, but she is the director, the
regulator, the standard of them all."

The chief characteristics, then, of Burke's political philosophy are opposed to
much that is fundamental in modern systems. His doctrine is better than that of
George III, because it is more generous, and affords opportunity for superficial
readjustment and adaptation. It is this last, or rather the proof it gives of
his insight, that has secured Burke so high a place among English statesmen.




A GROUP OF WRITERS COMING IMMEDIATELY BEFORE BURKE