‘A Conversation concerning a Right Regulation of Government for the Common Good of Mankind.’

When the turmoil of the Parliament House had ceased for a time, Fletcher took up his pen. The edition of his speeches which he prepared has already been mentioned. A Speech without-doors concerning Toleration, supposed to have been published about this time, has been attributed to him, but, both in style and argument, it is unlike anything he is known to have written. He has also been credited with the authorship of an Historical Account of the Ancient Rights and Power of the Parliament of Scotland, which appeared in 1703. The style is like that of Fletcher, but there is no evidence that he wrote it. Indeed, a passage in the preface, where he speaks of the author of the Discourse of Government with Relation to Militias as ‘a very learned gentleman of our own country, a great patron of liberty, and happy in a polite pen,’ makes it almost impossible. He composed, however, a short piece in which he embodied his theories of government, and his views regarding the relations of England and Scotland, in the form of a dialogue on politics, under the title of ‘An Account of a Conversation concerning a Right Regulation of Government for the Common Good of Mankind: In a Letter to the Marquis of Montrose, the Earls of Rothes, Roxburghe, and Haddington. From London the first of December 1703.’ In this little duodecimo, of ninety-two pages printed in italics, he described himself as walking slowly on the Mall one morning. The Earl of Cromartie and Sir Christopher Musgrave met him. Cromartie said he would be glad of Fletcher’s company at dinner, and introduced him to Sir Christopher, with whom Fletcher was not previously acquainted. Some compliments passed between them, and then they went to Cromartie’s lodgings in Whitehall to pass away the time till dinner.

‘Here, gentlemen,’ said the Earl, ‘you have two of the noblest objects that can delight the eye—the finest river and the greatest city in the world.’

From the window they saw a charming view of London and the Thames, which led them to speak of the wonderful situation of the English capital; the ground on which it was built, sloping to the river and giving it a natural drainage; the gravel soil, and the salubrious climate. Then all the country round—Kent, with its choice fruits; Hertfordshire, with its fields of golden corn; Essex and Surrey, producing the best of beef and mutton; and Buckinghamshire, whence came huge wains laden with wood. The river, too, brought to their doors the produce of all parts of the world in such plenty that nowhere else were things so cheap and abundant.

Fletcher, thinking how different it all was from Scotland, said that he had often admired the peace and happiness of the inhabitants, caused either by the advantages which they enjoyed, or by their natural temperament. He spoke of their civil and religious liberty, of the judgments of Westminster Hall, of the great affairs of the Parliament of England, of the vast transactions on the Exchange, of the shipping, and of the flourishing trade. He was going on to praise the recreations and pleasures of the court and the town, when Sir Christopher called out that these last words had spoilt all he said before. Talking about the pleasures of the town, he said, reminded them of all the cheating on the Exchange and in the gaming-houses, and of the facilities for intrigues which were afforded by the masques, the hackney coaches, the taverns, and the playhouses of a great city.

This interruption to the flow of Fletcher’s eloquence led them to discuss social questions. But the problem of how to reform the morals of society seemed insoluble, and especially in London, where, as Sir Christopher pointed out, they had to deal both with extreme poverty and excessive riches. While they were thus conversing, Sir Edward Seymour arrived, and Fletcher was presented to him.

‘Ah,’ said Sir Edward, ‘you are one of those who, in the late session of the Scots Parliament, opposed the interests of the Court.’

Then they began to talk politics, and Seymour said Fletcher had been engaged in framing Utopias. ‘In which, sir,’ he said, ‘you had the honour to be seconded by several men of quality, of about two or three and twenty years of age, whose long experience and consummate prudence in public affairs could not but produce wonderful schemes of government.’

Fletcher took this sally in good part, and was defending himself stoutly, when Sir Edward interrupted him.

‘Sir,’ he said, with a sneer, ‘you begin to declaim as if they overheard you.’

But Fletcher maintained that the Country Party had been right in acting as they did.

‘Pray, sir,’ asked Seymour, ‘of what is it that they complain?’

Fletcher’s answer was that Scotland was an independent nation, and that the National Party wanted to secure the honour of the Scottish Crown, and the freedom of their own Parliament and trade, from either English or foreign influence.

‘Heyday!’ cried Sir Edward, all in a pet. ‘Here is a fine cant indeed! Independent nation! Honour of our Crown! And what not? Do you consider what proportion you bear to England? Not one to forty in rents of lands. Besides, our greatest riches arise from trade and manufactures, of which you have none.’

To all this Fletcher replied by saying that the Union of the Crowns had ruined Scotland; that the French trade had once been great, and also the Spanish trade, whilst Spain and England were at war; but that since the Union of the Crowns everything had changed. The Scottish nobles spent their money in England, and the jealousy of English merchants had prevented the growth of Scottish commerce.

Here Cromartie said that, in his opinion, there was an easy remedy for all this, ‘which was an Union of the two nations.’ But Fletcher thought that an Union would not easily come to pass, nor would it be a remedy for the grievances he complained of. England, it seemed to him, had never shown any real willingness to unite. ‘I have always observed,’ he said, ‘that a Treaty of Union has never been mentioned by the English, but with a design to amuse us when they apprehended some danger from our nation.’ This was, he had no doubt, the reason for the late treaty. England, having chosen a successor to Queen Anne without consulting Scotland, had thought that the only way to gain the assent of the Scottish people to the Hanoverian succession was to propose an Union. Then he gave an account of the state of public feeling in Scotland on that subject. ‘The Scots, however fond they have formerly been of such a coalition, are now become much less concerned for the success of it, from a just sense they have that it would not only prove no remedy for our present ill condition, but increase the poverty of our country.’

He gave his reasons. An incorporating Union, which would abolish the Scottish Parliament, would make Scotland poorer than ever, because Scotsmen would spend more money than ever in England. Members of Parliament would go to London and live there. No Scotsman who wanted public employment would ever set foot in Scotland. Every man who made a fortune in England would buy land there. The trade of Scotland would be nothing more than an inconsiderable retail business in an impoverished country.

Cromartie said he did not think so, and tried to convince Fletcher that free commerce with England, and the right of trading to the Colonies, would be an immense boon to Scotland.

‘For my part,’ exclaimed Fletcher, ‘I cannot see what advantages a free trade to the English plantations would bring us, except a further exhausting of our people, and the utter ruin of all our merchants, who should vainly pretend to carry that trade from the English.’

Then he said that the Scots had a further grievance against England. They were indignant at the scurrilous attacks which were made upon them by Englishmen.

Here Sir Edward broke out ‘all in a flame.’

‘What a pother is here,’ he cried, ‘about an Union with Scotland, of which all the advantage we shall have will be no more than what a man gets by marrying a beggar—a louse for a portion!’

At this Fletcher fired up, and told Cromartie and Sir Christopher that if Sir Edward had spoken these words in the House of Commons,[6] he might not notice them, but that as he had chosen to use them in a private conversation, he would take the liberty to say that he wondered Sir Edward was not afraid lest such language should make the company suspect him not to be descended of the noble family whose name he bore. This pretty way of saying he was no gentleman put Sir Edward into a towering rage, and they came to high words about the past wars between the two countries.

[6] Sir Edward Seymour had actually used these words in the House of Commons.