was admitted, even by the malecontents, to be an able and
plausible composition. He well knew that mere names exercise a
mighty influence on the public mind; that the most perfect
tribunal which a legislator could construct would be unpopular if
it were called the Star Chamber; that the most judicious tax
which a financier could devise would excite murmurs if it were
called the Shipmoney; and that the words Standing Army then had
to English ears a sound as unpleasing as either Shipmoney or Star
Chamber. He declared therefore that he abhorred the thought of a
standing army. What he recommended was, not a standing, but a
temporary army, an army of which Parliament would annually fix
the number, an army for which Parliament would annually frame a
military code, an army which would cease to exist as soon as
either the Lords or the Commons should think that its services
were not needed. From such an army surely the danger to public
liberty could not by wise men be thought serious. On the other
hand, the danger to which the kingdom would be exposed if all the
troops were disbanded was such as might well disturb the firmest
mind. Suppose a war with the greatest power in Christendom to
break out suddenly, and to find us without one battalion of
regular infantry, without one squadron of regular cavalry; what
disasters might we not reasonably apprehend? It was idle to say
that a descent could not take place without ample notice, and
that we should have time to raise and discipline a great force.
An absolute prince, whose orders, given in profound secresy, were
promptly obeyed at once by his captains on the Rhine and on the
Scheld, and by his admirals in the Bay of Biscay and in the
Mediterranean, might be ready to strike a blow long before we
were prepared to parry it. We might be appalled by learning that
ships from widely remote parts, and troops from widely remote