whole. This gentleman, by setting himself strongly in opposition to the
Court Cabal, had become at once an object of their persecution, and of
the popular favour. The hatred of the Court party pursuing, and the
countenance of the people protecting him, it very soon became not at all
a question on the man, but a trial of strength between the two parties.
The advantage of the victory in this particular contest was the present,
but not the only, nor by any means, the principal, object. Its operation
upon the character of the House of Commons was the great point in view.
The point to be gained by the Cabal was this: that a precedent should be
established, tending to show, _That the favour of the people was not so
sure a road as the favour of the Court even to popular honours and
popular trusts_. A strenuous resistance to every appearance of lawless
power; a spirit of independence carried to some degree of enthusiasm; an
inquisitive character to discover, and a bold one to display, every
corruption and every error of Government; these are the qualities which
recommend a man to a seat in the House of Commons, in open and merely
popular elections. An indolent and submissive disposition; a disposition
to think charitably of all the actions of men in power, and to live in a
mutual intercourse of favours with them; an inclination rather to
countenance a strong use of authority, than to bear any sort of
licentiousness on the part of the people; these are unfavourable
qualities in an open election for Members of Parliament.
The instinct which carries the people towards the choice of the former,
is justified by reason; because a man of such a character, even in its
exorbitancies, does not directly contradict the purposes of a trust, the
end of which is a control on power. The latter character, even when it
is not in its extreme, will execute this trust but very imperfectly; and,
if deviating to the least excess, will certainly frustrate instead of
forwarding the purposes of a control on Government. But when the House
of Commons was to be new modelled, this principle was not only to be
changed, but reversed. Whist any errors committed in support of power
were left to the law, with every advantage of favourable construction, of
mitigation, and finally of pardon; all excesses on the side of liberty,
or in pursuit of popular favour, or in defence of popular rights and
privileges, were not only to be punished by the rigour of the known law,
but by a _discretionary_ proceeding, which brought on _the loss of the
popular object itself_. Popularity was to be rendered, if not directly
penal, at least highly dangerous. The favour of the people might lead
even to a disqualification of representing them. Their odium might
become, strained through the medium of two or three constructions, the
means of sitting as the trustee of all that was dear to them. This is
punishing the offence in the offending part. Until this time, the
opinion of the people, through the power of an Assembly, still in some
sort popular, led to the greatest honours and emoluments in the gift of
the Crown. Now the principle is reversed; and the favour of the Court is
the only sure way of obtaining and holding those honours which ought to
be in the disposal of the people.
It signifies very little how this matter may be quibbled away. Example,
the only argument of effect in civil life, demonstrates the truth of my
proposition. Nothing can alter my opinion concerning the pernicious
tendency of this example, until I see some man for his indiscretion in
the support of power, for his violent and intemperate servility, rendered
incapable of sitting in parliament. For as it now stands, the fault of
overstraining popular qualities, and, irregularly if you please,
asserting popular privileges, has led to disqualification; the opposite
fault never has produced the slightest punishment. Resistance to power
has shut the door of the House of Commons to one man; obsequiousness and
servility, to none.
Not that I would encourage popular disorder, or any disorder. But I
would leave such offences to the law, to be punished in measure and
proportion. The laws of this country are for the most part constituted,
and wisely so, for the general ends of Government, rather than for the
preservation of our particular liberties. Whatever therefore is done in
support of liberty, by persons not in public trust, or not acting merely
in that trust, is liable to be more or less out of the ordinary course of
the law; and the law itself is sufficient to animadvert upon it with
great severity. Nothing indeed can hinder that severe letter from
crushing us, except the temperaments it may receive from a trial by jury.
But if the habit prevails of _going beyond the law_, and superseding this
judicature, of carrying offences, real or supposed, into the legislative
bodies, who shall establish themselves into _courts of criminal equity_,
(so _the Star Chamber_ has been called by Lord Bacon,) all the evils of
the _Star_ Chamber are revived. A large and liberal construction in
ascertaining offences, and a discretionary power in punishing them, is
the idea of criminal equity; which is in truth a monster in
Jurisprudence. It signifies nothing whether a court for this purpose be
a Committee of Council, or a House of Commons, or a House of Lords; the
liberty of the subject will be equally subverted by it. The true end and
purpose of that House of Parliament which entertains such a jurisdiction
will be destroyed by it.
I will not believe, what no other man living believes, that Mr. Wilkes
was punished for the indecency of his publications, or the impiety of his
ransacked closet. If he had fallen in a common slaughter of libellers
and blasphemers, I could well believe that nothing more was meant than
was pretended. But when I see, that, for years together, full as
impious, and perhaps more dangerous writings to religion, and virtue, and
order, have not been punished, nor their authors discountenanced; that
the most audacious libels on Royal Majesty have passed without notice;
that the most treasonable invectives against the laws, liberties, and
constitution of the country, have not met with the slightest
animadversion; I must consider this as a shocking and shameless pretence.
Never did an envenomed scurrility against everything sacred and civil,
public and private, rage through the kingdom with such a furious and
unbridled licence. All this while the peace of the nation must be
shaken, to ruin one libeller, and to tear from the populace a single
favourite.
Nor is it that vice merely skulks in an obscure and contemptible
impunity. Does not the public behold with indignation, persons not only
generally scandalous in their lives, but the identical persons who, by
their society, their instruction, their example, their encouragement,
have drawn this man into the very faults which have furnished the Cabal
with a pretence for his persecution, loaded with every kind of favour,
honour, and distinction, which a Court can bestow? Add but the crime of
servility (the _foedum crimem servitutis_) to every other crime, and the
whole mass is immediately transmuted into virtue, and becomes the just
subject of reward and honour. When therefore I reflect upon this method
pursued by the Cabal in distributing rewards and punishments, I must
conclude that Mr. Wilkes is the object of persecution, not on account of
what he has done in common with others who are the objects of reward, but
for that in which he differs from many of them: that he is pursued for
the spirited dispositions which are blended with his vices; for his
unconquerable firmness, for his resolute, indefatigable, strenuous
resistance against oppression.
In this case, therefore, it was not the man that was to be punished, nor
his faults that were to be discountenanced. Opposition to acts of power
was to be marked by a kind of civil proscription. The popularity which
should arise from such an opposition was to be shown unable to protect
it. The qualities by which court is made to the people, were to render
every fault inexpiable, and every error irretrievable. The qualities by
which court is made to power, were to cover and to sanctify everything.
He that will have a sure and honourable seat, in the House of Commons,
must take care how he adventures to cultivate popular qualities;
otherwise he may, remember the old maxim, _Breves et infaustos populi
Romani amores_. If, therefore, a pursuit of popularity expose a man to
greater dangers than a disposition to servility, the principle which is
the life and soul of popular elections will perish out of the
Constitution.
It behoves the people of England to consider how the House of Commons
under the operation of these examples must of necessity be constituted.
On the side of the Court will be, all honours, offices, emoluments; every
sort of personal gratification to avarice or vanity; and, what is of more
moment to most gentlemen, the means of growing, by innumerable petty
services to individuals, into a spreading interest in their country. On
the other hand, let us suppose a person unconnected with the Court, and
in opposition to its system. For his own person, no office, or
emolument, or title; no promotion ecclesiastical, or civil, or military,
or naval, for children, or brothers, or kindred. In vain an expiring
interest in a borough calls for offices, or small livings, for the
children of mayors, and aldermen, and capital burgesses. His court rival
has them all. He can do an infinite number of acts of generosity and
kindness, and even of public spirit. He can procure indemnity from
quarters. He can procure advantages in trade. He can get pardons for
offences. He can obtain a thousand favours, and avert a thousand evils.
He may, while he betrays every valuable interest of the kingdom, be a
benefactor, a patron, a father, a guardian angel, to his borough. The
unfortunate independent member has nothing to offer, but harsh refusal,
or pitiful excuse, or despondent representation of a hopeless interest.
Except from his private fortune, in which he may be equalled, perhaps
exceeded, by his Court competitor, he has no way of showing any one good
quality, or of making a single friend. In the House, he votes for ever
in a dispirited minority. If he speaks, the doors are locked. A body of
loquacious placemen go out to tell the world, that all he aims at, is to
get into office. If he has not the talent of elocution, which is the
case of many as wise and knowing men as any in the House, he is liable to
all these inconveniences, without the eclat which attends upon any
tolerably successful exertion of eloquence. Can we conceive a more
discouraging post of duty than this? Strip it of the poor reward of
popularity; suffer even the excesses committed in defence of the popular
interest to become a ground for the majority of that House to form a
disqualification out of the line of the law, and at their pleasure,
attended not only with the loss of the franchise, but with every kind of
personal disgrace; if this shall happen, the people of this kingdom may
be assured that they cannot be firmly or faithfully served by any man. It
is out of the nature of men and things that they should; and their
presumption will be equal to their folly, if they expect it. The power
of the people, within the laws, must show itself sufficient to protect
every representative in the animated performance of his duty, or that
duty cannot be performed. The House of Commons can never be a control on
other parts of Government, unless they are controlled themselves by their
constituents; and unless these constituents possess some right in the
choice of that House, which it is not in the power of that House to take
away. If they suffer this power of arbitrary incapacitation to stand,
they have utterly perverted every other power of the House of Commons.
The late proceeding, I will not say, _is_ contrary to law; it _must_ be
so; for the power which is claimed cannot, by any possibility, be a legal
power in any limited member of Government.
The power which they claim, of declaring incapacities, would not be above
the just claims of a final judicature, if they had not laid it down as a
leading principle, that they had no rule in the exercise of this claim
but their own _discretion_. Not one of their abettors has ever
undertaken to assign the principle of unfitness, the species or degree of
delinquency, on which the House of Commons will expel, nor the mode of
proceeding upon it, nor the evidence upon which it is established. The
direct consequence of which is, that the first franchise of an
Englishman, and that on which all the rest vitally depend, is to be
forfeited for some offence which no man knows, and which is to be proved
by no known rule whatsoever of legal evidence. This is so anomalous to
our whole constitution, that I will venture to say, the most trivial
right, which the subject claims, never was, nor can be, forfeited in such
a manner.
The whole of their usurpation is established upon this method of arguing.
We do not make laws. No; we do not contend for this power. We only
declare law; and, as we are a tribunal both competent and supreme, what
we declare to be law becomes law, although it should not have been so
before. Thus the circumstance of having no appeal from their
jurisdiction is made to imply that they have no rule in the exercise of
it: the judgment does not derive its validity from its conformity to the
law; but preposterously the law is made to attend on the judgment; and
the rule of the judgment is no other than the _occasional will of the
House_. An arbitrary discretion leads, legality follows; which is just
the very nature and description of a legislative act.
This claim in their hands was no barren theory. It was pursued into its
utmost consequences; and a dangerous principle has begot a correspondent
practice. A systematic spirit has been shown upon both sides. The
electors of Middlesex chose a person whom the House of Commons had voted
incapable; and the House of Commons has taken in a member whom the
electors of Middlesex had not chosen. By a construction on that
legislative power which had been assumed, they declared that the true
legal sense of the country was contained in the minority, on that
occasion; and might, on a resistance to a vote of incapacity, be
contained in any minority.
When any construction of law goes against the spirit of the privilege it
was meant to support, it is a vicious construction. It is material to us
to be represented really and bona fide, and not in forms, in types, and
shadows, and fictions of law. The right of election was not established
merely as a _matter of form_, to satisfy some method and rule of
technical reasoning; it was not a principle which might substitute a
_Titius_ or a _Maevius_, a _John Doe_ or _Richard Roe_, in the place of a
man specially chosen; not a principle which was just as well satisfied
with one man as with another. It is a right, the effect of which is to
give to the people that man, and that man only, whom by their voices,
actually, not constructively given, they declare that they know, esteem,
love, and trust. This right is a matter within their own power of
judging and feeling; not an _ens rationis_ and creature of law: nor can
those devices, by which anything else is substituted in the place of such
an actual choice, answer in the least degree the end of representation.
I know that the courts of law have made as strained constructions in
other cases. Such is the construction in common recoveries. The method
of construction which in that case gives to the persons in remainder, for
their security and representative, the door-keeper, crier, or sweeper of
the Court, or some other shadowy being without substance or effect, is a
fiction of a very coarse texture. This was however suffered, by the
acquiescence of the whole kingdom, for ages; because the evasion of the
old Statute of Westminster, which authorised perpetuities, had more sense
and utility than the law which was evaded. But an attempt to turn the
right of election into such a farce and mockery as a fictitious fine and
recovery, will, I hope, have another fate; because the laws which give it
are infinitely dear to us, and the evasion is infinitely contemptible.
The people indeed have been told, that this power of discretionary
disqualification is vested in hands that they may trust, and who will be
sure not to abuse it to their prejudice. Until I find something in this
argument differing from that on which every mode of despotism has been
defended, I shall not be inclined to pay it any great compliment. The
people are satisfied to trust themselves with the exercise of their own
privileges, and do not desire this kind intervention of the House of
Commons to free them from the burthen. They are certainly in the right.
They ought not to trust the House of Commons with a power over their
franchises; because the constitution, which placed two other co-ordinate
powers to control it, reposed no such confidence in that body. It were a
folly well deserving servitude for its punishment, to be full of
confidence where the laws are full of distrust; and to give to an House
of Commons, arrogating to its sole resolution the most harsh and odious
part of legislative authority, that degree of submission which is due
only to the Legislature itself.
When the House of Commons, in an endeavour to obtain new advantages at
the expense of the other orders of the State, for the benefits of the
_Commons at large_, have pursued strong measures; if it were not just, it
was at least natural, that the constituents should connive at all their
proceedings; because we were ourselves ultimately to profit. But when
this submission is urged to us, in a contest between the representatives
and ourselves, and where nothing can be put into their scale which is not
taken from ours, they fancy us to be children when they tell us they are
our representatives, our own flesh and blood, and that all the stripes
they give us are for our good. The very desire of that body to have such
a trust contrary to law reposed in them, shows that they are not worthy
of it. They certainly will abuse it; because all men possessed of an
uncontrolled discretionary power leading to the aggrandisement and profit
of their own body have always abused it: and I see no particular sanctity
in our times, that is at all likely, by a miraculous operation, to
overrule the course of nature.
But we must purposely shut our eyes, if we consider this matter merely as
a contest between the House of Commons and the Electors. The true
contest is between the Electors of the Kingdom and the Crown; the Crown
acting by an instrumental House of Commons. It is precisely the same,
whether the Ministers of the Crown can disqualify by a dependent House of
Commons, or by a dependent court of _Star Chamber_, or by a dependent
court of King's Bench. If once Members of Parliament can be practically
convinced that they do not depend on the affection or opinion of the
people for their political being, they will give themselves over, without
even an appearance of reserve, to the influence of the Court.
Indeed, a Parliament unconnected with the people, is essential to a
Ministry unconnected with the people; and therefore those who saw through
what mighty difficulties the interior Ministry waded, and the exterior
were dragged, in this business, will conceive of what prodigious
importance, the new corps of _King's men_ held this principle of
occasional and personal incapacitation, to the whole body of their
design.
When the House of Commons was thus made to consider itself as the master
of its constituents, there wanted but one thing to secure that House
against all possible future deviation towards popularity; an unlimited
fund of money to be laid out according to the pleasure of the Court.
* * * * *
To complete the scheme of bringing our Court to a resemblance to the
neighbouring Monarchies, it was necessary, in effect, to destroy those
appropriations of revenue, which seem to limit the property, as the other
laws had done the powers, of the Crown. An opportunity for this purpose
was taken, upon an application to Parliament for payment of the debts of
the Civil List; which in 1769 had amounted to 513,000 pounds. Such
application had been made upon former occasions; but to do it in the
former manner would by no means answer the present purpose.
Whenever the Crown had come to the Commons to desire a supply for the
discharging of debts due on the Civil List, it was always asked and
granted with one of the three following qualifications; sometimes with
all of them. Either it was stated that the revenue had been diverted
from its purposes by Parliament; or that those duties had fallen short of
the sum for which they were given by Parliament, and that the intention
of the Legislature had not been fulfilled; or that the money required to
discharge the Civil List debt was to be raised chargeable on the Civil
List duties. In the reign of Queen Anne, the Crown was found in debt.
The lessening and granting away some part of her revenue by Parliament
was alleged as the cause of that debt, and pleaded as an equitable ground
(such it certainly was), for discharging it. It does not appear that the
duties which wore then applied to the ordinary Government produced clear
above 580,000 pounds a year; because, when they were afterwards granted
to George the First, 120,000 pounds was added, to complete the whole to
700,000 pounds a year. Indeed it was then asserted, and, I have no
doubt, truly, that for many years the nett produce did not amount to
above 550,000 pounds. The Queen's extraordinary charges were besides
very considerable; equal, at least, to any we have known in our time. The
application to Parliament was not for an absolute grant of money, but to
empower the Queen to raise it by borrowing upon the Civil List funds.
The Civil List debt was twice paid in the reign of George the First. The
money was granted upon the same plan which had been followed in the reign
of Queen Anne. The Civil List revenues were then mortgaged for the sum
to be raised, and stood charged with the ransom of their own deliverance.
George the Second received an addition to his Civil List. Duties were
granted for the purpose of raising 800,000 pounds a year. It was not
until he had reigned nineteen years, and after the last rebellion, that
he called upon Parliament for a discharge of the Civil List debt. The
extraordinary charges brought on by the rebellion, account fully for the
necessities of the Crown. However, the extraordinary charges of
Government were not thought a ground fit to be relied on. A deficiency
of the Civil List duties for several years before was stated as the
principal, if not the sole, ground on which an application to Parliament
could be justified. About this time the produce of these duties had
fallen pretty low; and even upon an average of the whole reign they never
produced 800,000 pounds a year clear to the Treasury.
That Prince reigned fourteen years afterwards: not only no new demands
were made, but with so much good order were his revenues and expenses
regulated, that, although many parts of the establishment of the Court
were upon a larger and more liberal scale than they have been since,
there was a considerable sum in hand, on his decease, amounting to about
170,000 pounds, applicable to the service of the Civil List of his
present Majesty. So that, if this reign commenced with a greater charge
than usual, there was enough, and more than enough, abundantly to supply
all the extraordinary expense. That the Civil List should have been
exceeded in the two former reigns, especially in the reign of George the
First, was not at all surprising. His revenue was but 700,000 pounds
annually; if it ever produced so much clear. The prodigious and
dangerous disaffection to the very being of the establishment, and the
cause of a Pretender then powerfully abetted from abroad, produced many
demands of an extraordinary nature both abroad and at home. Much
management and great expenses were necessary. But the throne of no
Prince has stood upon more unshaken foundations than that of his present
Majesty.
To have exceeded the sum given for the Civil List, and to have incurred a
debt without special authority of Parliament, was, _prima facie_, a
criminal act: as such Ministers ought naturally rather to have withdrawn
it from the inspection, than to have exposed it to the scrutiny, of
Parliament. Certainly they ought, of themselves, officially to have come
armed with every sort of argument, which, by explaining, could excuse a
matter in itself of presumptive guilt. But the terrors of the House of
Commons are no longer for Ministers.
On the other hand, the peculiar character of the House of Commons, as
trustee of the public purse, would have led them to call with a
punctilious solicitude for every public account, and to have examined
into them with the most rigorous accuracy.
The capital use of an account is, that the reality of the charge, the
reason of incurring it, and the justice and necessity of discharging it,
should all appear antecedent to the payment. No man ever pays first, and
calls for his account afterwards; because he would thereby let out of his
hands the principal, and indeed only effectual, means of compelling a
full and fair one. But, in national business, there is an additional
reason for a previous production of every account. It is a cheek,
perhaps the only one, upon a corrupt and prodigal use of public money. An
account after payment is to no rational purpose an account. However, the
House of Commons thought all these to be antiquated principles; they were
of opinion that the most Parliamentary way of proceeding was, to pay
first what the Court thought proper to demand, and to take its chance for
an examination into accounts at some time of greater leisure.
The nation had settled 800,000 pounds a year on the Crown, as sufficient
for the purpose of its dignity, upon the estimate of its own Ministers.
When Ministers came to Parliament, and said that this allowance had not
been sufficient for the purpose, and that they had incurred a debt of
500,000 pounds, would it not have been natural for Parliament first to
have asked, how, and by what means, their appropriated allowance came to
be insufficient? Would it not have savoured of some attention to
justice, to have seen in what periods of Administration this debt had
been originally incurred; that they might discover, and if need were,
animadvert on the persons who were found the most culpable? To put their
hands upon such articles of expenditure as they thought improper or
excessive, and to secure, in future, against such misapplication or
exceeding? Accounts for any other purposes are but a matter of
curiosity, and no genuine Parliamentary object. All the accounts which
could answer any Parliamentary end were refused, or postponed by previous
questions. Every idea of prevention was rejected, as conveying an
improper suspicion of the Ministers of the Crown.
When every leading account had been refused, many others were granted
with sufficient facility.
But with great candour also, the House was informed, that hardly any of
them could be ready until the next session; some of them perhaps not so
soon. But, in order firmly to establish the precedent of _payment
previous to account_, and to form it into a settled rule of the House,
the god in the machine was brought down, nothing less than the wonder-
working _Law of Parliament_. It was alleged, that it is the law of
Parliament, when any demand comes from the Crown, that the House must go
immediately into the Committee of Supply; in which Committee it was
allowed, that the production and examination of accounts would be quite
proper and regular. It was therefore carried that they should go into
the Committee without delay, and without accounts, in order to examine
with great order and regularity things that could not possibly come
before them. After this stroke of orderly and Parliamentary wit and
humour, they went into the Committee, and very generously voted the
payment.
There was a circumstance in that debate too remarkable to be overlooked.
This debt of the Civil List was all along argued upon the same footing as
a debt of the State, contracted upon national authority. Its payment was
urged as equally pressing upon the public faith and honour; and when the
whole year's account was stated, in what is called _The Budget_, the
Ministry valued themselves on the payment of so much public debt, just as
if they had discharged 500,000 pounds of navy or exchequer bills. Though,
in truth, their payment, from the Sinking Fund, of debt which was never
contracted by Parliamentary authority, was, to all intents and purposes,
so much debt incurred. But such is the present notion of public credit
and payment of debt. No wonder that it produces such effects.
Nor was the House at all more attentive to a provident security against
future, than it had been to a vindictive retrospect to past,
mismanagements. I should have thought indeed that a Ministerial promise,
during their own continuance in office, might have been given, though
this would have been but a poor security for the public. Mr. Pelham gave
such an assurance, and he kept his word. But nothing was capable of
extorting from our Ministers anything which had the least resemblance to
a promise of confining the expenses of the Civil List within the limits
which had been settled by Parliament. This reserve of theirs I look upon
to be equivalent to the clearest declaration that they were resolved upon
a contrary course.
However, to put the matter beyond all doubt, in the Speech from the
Throne, after thanking Parliament for the relief so liberally granted,
the Ministers inform the two Houses that they will _endeavour_ to confine
the expenses of the Civil Government--within what limits, think you?
those which the law had prescribed? Not in the least--"such limits as
the _honour of the Crown_ can possibly admit."
Thus they established an arbitrary standard for that dignity which
Parliament had defined and limited to a legal standard. They gave
themselves, under the lax and indeterminate idea of the _honour of the
Crown_, a full loose for all manner of dissipation, and all manner of
corruption. This arbitrary standard they were not afraid to hold out to
both Houses; while an idle and inoperative Act of Parliament, estimating
the dignity of the Crown at 800,000 pounds, and confining it to that sum,
adds to the number of obsolete statutes which load the shelves of
libraries without any sort of advantage to the people.
After this proceeding, I suppose that no man can be so weak as to think
that the Crown is limited to any settled allowance whatsoever. For if
the Ministry has 800,000 pounds a year by the law of the land, and if by
the law of Parliament all the debts which exceed it are to be paid
previous to the production of any account, I presume that this is
equivalent to an income with no other limits than the abilities of the
subject and the moderation of the Court--that is to say, it is such in
income as is possessed by every absolute Monarch in Europe. It amounts,
as a person of great ability said in the debate, to an unlimited power of
drawing upon the Sinking Fund. Its effect on the public credit of this
kingdom must be obvious; for in vain is the Sinking Fund the great
buttress of all the rest, if it be in the power of the Ministry to resort
to it for the payment of any debts which they may choose to incur, under
the name of the Civil List, and through the medium of a committee, which
thinks itself obliged by law to vote supplies without any other account
than that of the more existence of the debt.
Five hundred thousand pounds is a serious sum. But it is nothing to the
prolific principle upon which the sum was voted--a principle that may be
well called, _the fruitful mother of a hundred more_. Neither is the
damage to public credit of very great consequence when compared with that
which results to public morals and to the safety of the Constitution,
from the exhaustless mine of corruption opened by the precedent, and to
be wrought by the principle of the late payment of the debts of the Civil
List. The power of discretionary disqualification by one law of
Parliament, and the necessity of paying every debt of the Civil List by
another law of Parliament, if suffered to pass unnoticed, must establish
such a fund of rewards and terrors as will make Parliament the best
appendage and support of arbitrary power that ever was invented by the
wit of man. This is felt. The quarrel is begun between the
Representatives and the People. The Court Faction have at length
committed them.
In such a strait the wisest may well be perplexed, and the boldest
staggered. The circumstances are in a great measure new. We have hardly
any landmarks from the wisdom of our ancestors to guide us. At best we
can only follow the spirit of their proceeding in other cases. I know
the diligence with which my observations on our public disorders have
been made. I am very sure of the integrity of the motives on which they
are published: I cannot be equally confident in any plan for the absolute
cure of those disorders, or for their certain future prevention. My aim
is to bring this matter into more public discussion. Let the sagacity of
others work upon it. It is not uncommon for medical writers to describe
histories of diseases, very accurately, on whose cure they can say but
very little.
The first ideas which generally suggest themselves for the cure of
Parliamentary disorders are, to shorten the duration of Parliaments, and
to disqualify all, or a great number of placemen, from a seat in the
House of Commons. Whatever efficacy there may be in those remedies, I am
sure in the present state of things it is impossible to apply them. A
restoration of the right of free election is a preliminary indispensable
to every other reformation. What alterations ought afterwards to be made
in the constitution is a matter of deep and difficult research.
If I wrote merely to please the popular palate, it would indeed be as
little troublesome to me as to another to extol these remedies, so famous
in speculation, but to which their greatest admirers have never attempted
seriously to resort in practice. I confess them, that I have no sort of
reliance upon either a Triennial Parliament or a Place-bill. With regard
to the former, perhaps, it might rather serve to counteract than to
promote the ends that are proposed by it. To say nothing of the horrible
disorders among the people attending frequent elections, I should be
fearful of committing, every three years, the independent gentlemen of
the country into a contest with the Treasury. It is easy to see which of
the contending parties would be ruined first. Whoever has taken a
careful view of public proceedings, so as to endeavour to ground his
speculations on his experience, must have observed how prodigiously
greater the power of Ministry is in the first and last session of a
Parliament, than it is in the intermediate periods, when Members sit a
little on their seats. The persons of the greatest Parliamentary
experience, with whom I have conversed, did constantly, in canvassing the
fate of questions, allow something to the Court side, upon account of the
elections depending or imminent. The evil complained of, if it exists in
the present state of things, would hardly be removed by a triennial
Parliament: for, unless the influence of Government in elections can be
entirely taken away, the more frequently they return, the more they will
harass private independence; the more generally men will be compelled to
fly to the settled systematic interest of Government, and to the
resources of a boundless Civil List. Certainly something may be done,
and ought to be done, towards lessening that influence in elections; and
this will be necessary upon a plan either of longer or shorter duration
of Parliament. But nothing can so perfectly remove the evil, as not to
render such contentions, foot frequently repeated, utterly ruinous, first
to independence of fortune, and then to independence of spirit. As I am
only giving an opinion on this point, and not at all debating it in an
adverse line, I hope I may be excused in another observation. With great
truth I may aver that I never remember to have talked on this subject
with any man much conversant with public business who considered short
Parliaments as a real improvement of the Constitution. Gentlemen, warm
in a popular cause, are ready enough to attribute all the declarations of
such persons to corrupt motives. But the habit of affairs, if, on one
hand, it tends to corrupt the mind, furnishes it, on the other, with the,
means of better information. The authority of such persons will always
have some weight. It may stand upon a par with the speculations of those
who are less practised in business; and who, with perhaps purer
intentions, have not so effectual means of judging. It is besides an
effect of vulgar and puerile malignity to imagine that every Statesman is
of course corrupt: and that his opinion, upon every constitutional point,
is solely formed upon some sinister interest.
The next favourite remedy is a Place-bill. The same principle guides in
both: I mean the opinion which is entertained by many of the
infallibility of laws and regulations, in the cure of public distempers.
Without being as unreasonably doubtful as many are unwisely confident, I
will only say, that this also is a matter very well worthy of serious and
mature reflection. It is not easy to foresee what the effect would be of
disconnecting with Parliament, the greatest part of those who hold civil
employments, and of such mighty and important bodies as the military and
naval establishments. It were better, perhaps, that they should have a
corrupt interest in the forms of the constitution, than they should have
none at all. This is a question altogether different from the
disqualification of a particular description of Revenue Officers from
seats in Parliament; or, perhaps, of all the lower sorts of them from
votes in elections. In the former case, only the few are affected; in
the latter, only the inconsiderable. But a great official, a great
professional, a great military and naval interest, all necessarily
comprehending many people of the first weight, ability, wealth, and
spirit, has been gradually formed in the kingdom. These new interests
must be let into a share of representation, else possibly they may be
inclined to destroy those institutions of which they are not permitted to
partake. This is not a thing to be trifled with: nor is it every well-
meaning man that is fit to put his hands to it. Many other serious
considerations occur. I do not open them here, because they are not
directly to my purpose; proposing only to give the reader some taste of
the difficulties that attend all capital changes in the Constitution;
just to hint the uncertainty, to say no worse, of being able to prevent
the Court, as long as it has the means of influence abundantly in its
power, from applying that influence to Parliament; and perhaps, if the
public method were precluded, of doing it in some worse and more
dangerous method. Underhand and oblique ways would be studied. The
science of evasion, already tolerably understood, would then be brought
to the greatest perfection. It is no inconsiderable part of wisdom, to
know how much of an evil ought to be tolerated; lest, by attempting a
degree of purity impracticable in degenerate times and manners, instead
of cutting off the subsisting ill practices, new corruptions might be
produced for the concealment and security of the old. It were better,
undoubtedly, that no influence at all could affect the mind of a Member
of Parliament. But of all modes of influence, in my opinion, a place
under the Government is the least disgraceful to the man who holds it,
and by far the most safe to the country. I would not shut out that sort
of influence which is open and visible, which is connected with the
dignity and the service of the State, when it is not in my power to
prevent the influence of contracts, of subscriptions, of direct bribery,
and those innumerable methods of clandestine corruption, which are
abundantly in the hands of the Court, and which will be applied as long
as these means of corruption, and the disposition to be corrupted, have
existence amongst us. Our Constitution stands on a nice equipoise, with
steep precipices and deep waters upon all sides of it. In removing it
from a dangerous leaning towards one side, there may be a risk of
oversetting it on the other. Every project of a material change in a
Government so complicated as ours, combined at the same time with
external circumstances still more complicated, is a matter full of
difficulties; in which a considerate man will not be too ready to decide;
a prudent man too ready to undertake; or an honest man too ready to
promise. They do not respect the public nor themselves, who engage for
more than they are sure that they ought to attempt, or that they are able
to perform. These are my sentiments, weak perhaps, but honest and
unbiassed; and submitted entirely to the opinion of grave men, well
affected to the constitution of their country, and of experience in what
may best promote or hurt it.
Indeed, in the situation in which we stand, with an immense revenue, an
enormous debt, mighty establishments, Government itself a great banker
and a great merchant, I see no other way for the preservation of a decent
attention to public interest in the Representatives, but _the
interposition of the body of the people itself_, whenever it shall
appear, by some flagrant and notorious act, by some capital innovation,
that these Representatives are going to over-leap the fences of the law,
and to introduce an arbitrary power. This interposition is a most
unpleasant remedy. But, if it be a legal remedy, it is intended on some
occasion to be used; to be used then only, when it is evident that
nothing else can hold the Constitution to its true principles.
* * * * *
The distempers of Monarchy were the great subjects of apprehension and
redress, in the last century; in this, the distempers of Parliament. It
is not in Parliament alone that the remedy for Parliamentary disorders
can be completed; hardly, indeed, can it begin there. Until a confidence
in Government is re-established, the people ought to be excited to a more
strict and detailed attention to the conduct of their Representatives.
Standards, for judging more systematically upon their conduct, ought to
be settled in the meetings of counties and corporations. Frequent and
correct lists of the voters in all important questions ought to be
procured.
By such means something may be done. By such means it may appear who
those are, that, by an indiscriminate support of all Administrations,
have totally banished all integrity and confidence out of public
proceedings; have confounded the best men with the worst; and weakened
and dissolved, instead of strengthening and compacting, the general frame
of Government. If any person is more concerned for government and order
than for the liberties of his country, even he is equally concerned to
put an end to this course of indiscriminate support. It is this blind
and undistinguishing support that feeds the spring of those very
disorders, by which he is frighted into the arms of the faction which
contains in itself the source of all disorders, by enfeebling all the
visible and regular authority of the State. The distemper is increased
by his injudicious and preposterous endeavours, or pretences, for the
cure of it.
An exterior Administration, chosen for its impotency, or after it is
chosen purposely rendered impotent, in order to be rendered subservient,
will not be obeyed. The laws themselves will not be respected, when
those who execute them are despised: and they will be despised, when
their power is not immediate from the Crown, or natural in the kingdom.
Never were Ministers better supported in Parliament. Parliamentary
support comes and goes with office, totally regardless of the man, or the
merit. Is Government strengthened? It grows weaker and weaker. The
popular torrent gains upon it every hour. Let us learn from our
experience. It is not support that is wanting to Government, but
reformation. When Ministry rests upon public opinion, it is not indeed
built upon a rock of adamant; it has, however, some stability. But when
it stands upon private humour, its structure is of stubble, and its
foundation is on quicksand. I repeat it again--He that supports every
Administration, subverts all Government. The reason is this. The whole
business in which a Court usually takes an interest goes on at present
equally well, in whatever hands, whether high or low, wise or foolish,
scandalous or reputable; there is nothing, therefore, to hold it firm to
any one body of men, or to any one consistent scheme of politics. Nothing
interposes to prevent the full operation of all the caprices and all the
passions of a Court upon the servants of the public. The system of
Administration is open to continual shocks and changes, upon the
principles of the meanest cabal, and the most contemptible intrigue.
Nothing can be solid and permanent. All good men at length fly with
horror from such a service. Men of rank and ability, with the spirit
which ought to animate such men in a free state, while they decline the
jurisdiction of dark cabal on their actions and their fortunes, will, for
both, cheerfully put themselves upon their country. They will trust an
inquisitive and distinguishing Parliament; because it does inquire, and
does distinguish. If they act well, they know that, in such a
Parliament, they will be supported against any intrigue; if they act ill,
they know that no intrigue can protect them. This situation, however
awful, is honourable. But in one hour, and in the self-same Assembly,
without any assigned or assignable cause, to be precipitated from the
highest authority to the most marked neglect, possibly into the greatest
peril of life and reputation, is a situation full of danger, and
destitute of honour. It will be shunned equally by every man of
prudence, and every man of spirit.
Such are the consequences of the division of Court from the
Administration; and of the division of public men among themselves. By
the former of these, lawful Government is undone; by the latter, all
opposition to lawless power is rendered impotent. Government may in a
great measure be restored, if any considerable bodies of men have honesty
and resolution enough never to accept Administration, unless this
garrison of _King's_ meat, which is stationed, as in a citadel, to
control and enslave it, be entirely broken and disbanded, and every work
they have thrown up be levelled with the ground. The disposition of
public men to keep this corps together, and to act under it, or to co-
operate with it, is a touchstone by which every Administration ought in
future to be tried. There has not been one which has not sufficiently
experienced the utter incompatibility of that faction with the public
peace, and with all the ends of good Government; since, if they opposed
it, they soon lost every power of serving the Crown; if they submitted to
it they lost all the esteem of their country. Until Ministers give to
the public a full proof of their entire alienation from that system,
however plausible their pretences, we may be sure they are more intent on
the emoluments than the duties of office. If they refuse to give this
proof, we know of what stuff they are made. In this particular, it ought
to be the electors' business to look to their Representatives. The
electors ought to esteem it no less culpable in their Member to give a
single vote in Parliament to such an Administration, than to take an
office under it; to endure it, than to act in it. The notorious
infidelity and versatility of Members of Parliament, in their opinions of
men and things, ought in a particular manner to be considered by the
electors in the inquiry which is recommended to them. This is one of the
principal holdings of that destructive system which has endeavoured to
unhinge all the virtuous, honourable, and useful connections in the
kingdom.
This cabal has, with great success, propagated a doctrine which serves
for a colour to those acts of treachery; and whilst it receives any
degree of countenance, it will be utterly senseless to look for a
vigorous opposition to the Court Party. The doctrine is this: That all
political connections are in their nature factious, and as such ought to
be dissipated and destroyed; and that the rule for forming
Administrations is mere personal ability, rated by the judgment of this
cabal upon it, and taken by drafts from every division and denomination
of public men. This decree was solemnly promulgated by the head of the
Court corps, the Earl of Bute himself, in a speech which he made, in the
year 1766, against the then Administration, the only Administration
which, he has ever been known directly and publicly to oppose.
It is indeed in no way wonderful, that such persons should make such
declarations. That connection and faction are equivalent terms, is an
opinion which has been carefully inculcated at all times by
unconstitutional Statesmen. The reason is evident. Whilst men are
linked together, they easily and speedily communicate the alarm of an
evil design. They are enabled to fathom it with common counsel, and to
oppose it with united strength. Whereas, when they lie dispersed,
without concert, order, or discipline, communication is uncertain,
counsel difficult, and resistance impracticable. Where men are not
acquainted with each other's principles, nor experienced in each other's
talents, nor at all practised in their mutual habitudes and dispositions
by joint efforts in business; no personal confidence, no friendship, no
common interest, subsisting among them; it is evidently impossible that
they can act a public part with uniformity, perseverance, or efficacy. In
a connection, the most inconsiderable man, by adding to the weight of the
whole, has his value, and his use; out of it, the greatest talents are
wholly unserviceable to the public. No man, who is not inflamed by
vainglory into enthusiasm, can flatter himself that his single,
unsupported, desultory, unsystematic endeavours, are of power to defeat,
the subtle designs and united cabals of ambitious citizens. When bad men
combine, the good must associate; else they will fall, one by one, an
unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle.
It is not enough in a situation of trust in the commonwealth, that a man
means well to his country; it is not enough that in his single person he
never did an evil act, but always voted according to his conscience, and
even harangued against every design which he apprehended to be
prejudicial to the interests of his country. This innoxious and
ineffectual character, that seems formed upon a plan of apology and
disculpation, falls miserably short of the mark of public duty. That
duty demands and requires, that what is right should not only be made
known, but made prevalent; that what is evil should not only be detected,
but defeated. When the public man omits to put himself in a situation of
doing his duty with effect, it is an omission that frustrates the
purposes of his trust almost as much as if he had formally betrayed it.
It is surely no very rational account of a man's life that he has always
acted right; but has taken special care to act in such a manner that his
endeavours could not possibly be productive of any consequence.
I do not wonder that the behaviour of many parties should have made
persons of tender and scrupulous virtue somewhat out of humour with all
sorts of connection in politics. I admit that people frequently acquire
in such confederacies a narrow, bigoted, and proscriptive spirit; that
they are apt to sink the idea of the general good in this circumscribed
and partial interest. But, where duty renders a critical situation a
necessary one, it is our business to keep free from the evils attendant
upon it, and not to fly from the situation itself. If a fortress is
seated in an unwholesome air, an officer of the garrison is obliged to be
attentive to his health, but he must not desert his station. Every
profession, not excepting the glorious one of a soldier, or the sacred
one of a priest, is liable to its own particular vices; which, however,
form no argument against those ways of life; nor are the vices themselves
inevitable to every individual in those professions. Of such a nature
are connections in politics; essentially necessary for the full
performance of our public duty, accidentally liable to degenerate into
faction. Commonwealths are made of families, free Commonwealths of
parties also; and we may as well affirm, that our natural regards and
ties of blood tend inevitably to make men bad citizens, as that the bonds
of our party weaken those by which we are held to our country.
Some legislators went so far as to make neutrality in party a crime
against the State. I do not know whether this might not have been rather
to overstrain the principle. Certain it is, the best patriots in the
greatest commonwealths have always commanded and promoted such
connections. _Idem sentire de republica_, was with them a principal
ground of friendship and attachment; nor do I know any other capable of
forming firmer, dearer, more pleasing, more honourable, and more virtuous
habitudes. The Romans carried this principle a great way. Even the
holding of offices together, the disposition of which arose from chance,
not selection, gave rise to a relation which continued for life. It was
called _necessitudo sortis_; and it was looked upon with a sacred
reverence. Breaches of any of these kinds of civil relation were
considered as acts of the most distinguished turpitude. The whole people
was distributed into political societies, in which they acted in support
of such interests in the State as they severally affected. For it was
then thought no crime, to endeavour by every honest means to advance to
superiority and power those of your own sentiments and opinions. This
wise people was far from imagining that those connections had no tie, and
obliged to no duty; but that men might quit them without shame, upon
every call of interest. They believed private honour to be the great
foundation of public trust; that friendship was no mean step towards
patriotism; that he who, in the common intercourse of life, showed he
regarded somebody besides himself, when he came to act in a public
situation, might probably consult some other interest than his own. Never
may we become _plus sages que les sages_, as the French comedian has
happily expressed it--wiser than all the wise and good men who have lived
before us. It was their wish, to see public and private virtues, not
dissonant and jarring, and mutually destructive, but harmoniously
combined, growing out of one another in a noble and orderly gradation,
reciprocally supporting and supported. In one of the most fortunate
periods of our history this country was governed by a connection; I mean
the great connection of Whigs in the reign of Queen Anne. They were
complimented upon the principle of this connection by a poet who was in
high esteem with them. Addison, who knew their sentiments, could not
praise them for what they considered as no proper subject of
commendation. As a poet who knew his business, he could not applaud them
for a thing which in general estimation was not highly reputable.
Addressing himself to Britain,
"Thy favourites grow not up by fortune's sport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a Court;
On the firm basis of desert they rise,
From long-tried faith, and friendship's holy ties."
The Whigs of those days believed that the only proper method of rising
into power was through bard essays of practised friendship and
experimented fidelity. At that time it was not imagined that patriotism
was a bloody idol, which required the sacrifice of children and parents,
or dearest connections in private life, and of all the virtues that rise
from those relations. They were not of that ingenious paradoxical
morality to imagine that a spirit of moderation was properly shown in
patiently bearing the sufferings of your friends, or that
disinterestedness was clearly manifested at the expense of other people's
fortune. They believed that no men could act with effect who did not act
in concert; that no men could act in concert who did not act with
confidence; that no men could act with confidence who were not bound
together by common opinions, common affections, and common interests.
These wise men, for such I must call Lord Sunderland, Lord Godolphin,
Lord Somers, and Lord Marlborough, were too well principled in these
maxims, upon which the whole fabric of public strength is built, to be
blown off their ground by the breath of every childish talker. They were
not afraid that they should be called an ambitious Junto, or that their
resolution to stand or fall together should, by placemen, be interpreted
into a scuffle for places.
Party is a body of men united for promoting by their joint endeavours the
national interest, upon some particular principle in which they are all
agreed. For my part, I find it impossible to conceive that any one
believes in his own politics, or thinks them to be of any weight, who
refuses to adopt the means of having them reduced into practice. It is
the business of the speculative philosopher to mark the proper ends of
Government. It is the business of the politician, who is the philosopher
in action, to find out proper means towards those ends, and to employ
them with effect. Therefore, every honourable connection will avow it as
their first purpose to pursue every just method to put the men who hold
their opinions into such a condition as may enable them to carry their
common plans into execution, with all the power and authority of the
State. As this power is attached to certain situations, it is their duty
to contend for these situations. Without a proscription of others, they
are bound to give to their own party the preference in all things, and by
no means, for private considerations, to accept any offers of power in
which the whole body is not included, nor to suffer themselves to be led,
or to be controlled, or to be over-balanced, in office or in council, by
those who contradict, the very fundamental principles on which their
party is formed, and even those upon which every fair connection must
stand. Such a generous contention for power, on such manly and
honourable maxims, will easily be distinguished from the mean and
interested struggle for place and emolument. The very style of such
persons will serve to discriminate them from those numberless impostors
who have deluded the ignorant with professions incompatible with human
practice, and have afterwards incensed them by practices below the level
of vulgar rectitude.
It is an advantage to all narrow wisdom and narrow morals that their
maxims have a plausible air, and, on a cursory view, appear equal to
first principles. They are light and portable. They are as current as
copper coin, and about as valuable. They serve equally the first
capacities and the lowest, and they are, at least, as useful to the worst
men as the best. Of this stamp is the cant of _Not men_, _but measures_;
a sort of charm, by which many people got loose from every honourable
engagement. When I see a man acting this desultory and disconnected
part, with as much detriment to his own fortune as prejudice to the cause
of any party, I am not persuaded that he is right, but I am ready to
believe he is in earnest. I respect virtue in all its situations, even
when it is found in the unsuitable company of weakness. I lament to see
qualities, rare and valuable, squandered away without any public utility.
But when a gentleman with great visible emoluments abandons the party in
which he has long acted, and tells you it is because he proceeds upon his
own judgment that he acts on the merits of the several measures as they
arise, and that he is obliged to follow his own conscience, and not that
of others, he gives reasons which it is impossible to controvert, and
discovers a character which it is impossible to mistake. What shall we
think of him who never differed from a certain set of men until the
moment they lost their power, and who never agreed with them in a single
instance afterwards? Would not such a coincidence of interest and
opinion be rather fortunate? Would it not be an extraordinary cast upon
the dice that a man's connections should degenerate into faction,
precisely at the critical moment when they lose their power or he accepts
a place? When people desert their connections, the desertion is a
manifest fact, upon which a direct simple issue lies, triable by plain
men. Whether a _measure_ of Government be right or wrong is _no matter
of fact_, but a mere affair of opinion, on which men may, as they do,
dispute and wrangle without end. But whether the individual thinks the
measure right or wrong is a point at still a greater distance from the
reach of all human decision. It is therefore very convenient to
politicians not to put the judgment of their conduct on overt acts,
cognisable in any ordinary court, but upon such a matter as can be
triable only in that secret tribunal, where they are sure of being heard
with favour, or where at worst the sentence will be only private
whipping.
I believe the reader would wish to find no substance in a doctrine which
has a tendency to destroy all test of character as deduced from conduct.
He will therefore excuse my adding something more towards the further
clearing up a point which the great convenience of obscurity to
dishonesty has been able to cover with some degree of darkness and doubt.
In order to throw an odium on political connection, these politicians
suppose it a necessary incident to it that you are blindly to follow the
opinions of your party when in direct opposition to your own clear ideas,
a degree of servitude that no worthy man could bear the thought of
submitting to, and such as, I believe, no connections (except some Court
factions) ever could be so senselessly tyrannical as to impose. Men
thinking freely will, in particular instances, think differently. But
still, as the greater Part of the measures which arise in the course of
public business are related to, or dependent on, some great leading
general principles in Government, a man must be peculiarly unfortunate in
the choice of his political company if he does not agree with them at
least nine times in ten. If he does not concur in these general
principles upon which the party is founded, and which necessarily draw on
a concurrence in their application, he ought from the beginning to have
chosen some other, more conformable to his opinions. When the question
is in its nature doubtful, or not very material, the modesty which
becomes an individual, and (in spite of our Court moralists) that
partiality which becomes a well-chosen friendship, will frequently bring
on an acquiescence in the general sentiment. Thus the disagreement will
naturally be rare; it will be only enough to indulge freedom, without
violating concord or disturbing arrangement. And this is all that ever
was required for a character of the greatest uniformity and steadiness in
connection. How men can proceed without any connection at all is to me
utterly incomprehensible. Of what sort of materials must that man be
made, how must he be tempered and put together, who can sit whole years
in Parliament, with five hundred and fifty of his fellow-citizens, amidst
the storm of such tempestuous passions, in the sharp conflict of so many
wits, and tempers, and characters, in the agitation of such mighty
questions, in the discussion of such vast and ponderous interests,
without seeing any one sort of men, whose character, conduct, or
disposition would lead him to associate himself with them, to aid and be
aided, in any one system of public utility?
I remember an old scholastic aphorism, which says that "the man who lives
wholly detached from others must be either an angel or a devil." When I
see in any of these detached gentlemen of our times the angelic purity,
power, and beneficence, I shall admit them to be angels. In the
meantime, we are born only to be men. We shall do enough if we form
ourselves to be good ones. It is therefore our business carefully to
cultivate in our minds, to rear to the most perfect vigour and maturity,
every sort of generous and honest feeling that belongs to our nature. To
bring the, dispositions that are lovely in private life into the service
and conduct of the commonwealth; so to be patriots, as not to forget we
are gentlemen. To cultivate friendships, and to incur enmities. To have
both strong, but both selected: in the one, to be placable; in the other,
immovable. To model our principles to our duties and our situation. To
be fully persuaded that all virtue which is impracticable is spurious,
and rather to run the risk of falling into faults in a course which leads
us to act with effect and energy than to loiter out our days without
blame and without use. Public life is a situation of power and energy;
he trespasses against his duty who sleeps upon his watch, as well as he
that goes over to the enemy.
There is, however, a time for all things. It is not every conjuncture
which calls with equal force upon the activity of honest men; but
critical exigences now and then arise, and I am mistaken if this be not
one of them. Men will see the necessity of honest combination, but they
may see it when it is too late. They may embody when it will be ruinous
to themselves, and of no advantage to the country; when, for want of such
a timely union as may enable them to oppose in favour of the laws, with
the laws on their side, they may at length find themselves under the
necessity of conspiring, instead of consulting. The law, for which they
stand, may become a weapon in the hands of its bitterest enemies; and
they will be cast, at length, into that miserable alternative, between
slavery and civil confusion, which no good man can look upon without
horror, an alternative in which it is impossible he should take either
part with a conscience perfectly at repose. To keep that situation of
guilt and remorse at the utmost distance is, therefore, our first
obligation. Early activity may prevent late and fruitless violence. As
yet we work in the light. The scheme of the enemies of public
tranquillity has disarranged, it has not destroyed us.
If the reader believes that there really exists such a Faction as I have
described, a Faction ruling by the private inclinations of a Court,
against the general sense of the people; and that this Faction, whilst it
pursues a scheme for undermining all the foundations of our freedom,
weakens (for the present at least) all the powers of executory
Government, rendering us abroad contemptible, and at home distracted; he
will believe, also, that nothing but a firm combination of public men
against this body, and that, too, supported by the hearty concurrence of
the people at large, can possibly get the better of it. The people will
see the necessity of restoring public men to an attention to the public
opinion, and of restoring the Constitution to its original principles.
Above all, they will endeavour to keep the House of Commons from assuming
a character which does not belong to it. They will endeavour to keep
that House, for its existence for its powers, and its privileges, as
independent of every other, and as dependent upon themselves, as
possible. This servitude is to a House of Commons (like obedience to the
Divine law), "perfect freedom." For if they once quit this natural,
rational, and liberal obedience, having deserted the only proper
foundation of their power, they must seek a support in an abject and
unnatural dependence somewhere else. When, through the medium of this
just connection with their constituents, the genuine dignity of the House
of Commons is restored, it will begin to think of casting from it, with
scorn, as badges of servility, all the false ornaments of illegal power,
with which it has been, for some time, disgraced. It will begin to think
of its old office of CONTROL. It will not suffer that last of evils to
predominate in the country; men without popular confidence, public
opinion, natural connection, or natural trust, invested with all the
powers of Government.
When they have learned this lesson themselves, they will be willing and
able to teach the Court, that it is the true interest of the Prince to
have but one Administration; and that one composed of those who recommend
themselves to their Sovereign through the opinion of their country, and
not by their obsequiousness to a favourite. Such men will serve their
Sovereign with affection and fidelity; because his choice of them, upon
such principles, is a compliment to their virtue. They will be able to
serve him effectually; because they will add the weight of the country to
the force of the executory power. They will be able to serve their King
with dignity; because they will never abuse his name to the gratification
of their private spleen or avarice. This, with allowances for human
frailty, may probably be the general character of a Ministry, which
thinks itself accountable to the House of Commons, when the House of
Commons thinks itself accountable to its constituents. If other ideas
should prevail, things must remain in their present confusion, until they
are hurried into all the rage of civil violence; or until they sink into
the dead repose of despotism.
SPEECH ON THE MIDDLESEX ELECTION
FEBRUARY, 1771
Mr. Speaker,--In every complicated Constitution (and every free
Constitution is complicated) cases will arise, when the several orders of
the State will clash with one another, and disputes will arise about the
limits of their several rights and privileges. It may be almost
impossible to reconcile them.
Carry the principle on by which you expelled Mr. Wilkes, there is not a
man in the House, hardly a man in the nation, who may not be
disqualified. That this House should have no power of expulsion is a
hard saying. That this House should have a general discretionary power
of disqualification is a dangerous saying. That the people should not
choose their own representative, is a saying that shakes the
Constitution. That this House should name the representative, is a
saying which, followed by practice, subverts the constitution. They have
the right of electing, you have a right of expelling; they of choosing,
you of judging, and only of judging, of the choice. What bounds shall be
set to the freedom of that choice? Their right is prior to ours, we all
originate there. They are the mortal enemies of the House of Commons,
who would persuade them to think or to act as if they were a
self-originated magistracy, independent of the people and unconnected
with their opinions and feelings. Under a pretence of exalting the
dignity, they undermine the very foundations of this House. When the
question is asked here, what disturbs the people, whence all this
clamour, we apply to the treasury-bench, and they tell us it is from the
efforts of libellers and the wickedness of the people, a worn-out
ministerial pretence. If abroad the people are deceived by popular,
within we are deluded by ministerial, cant. The question amounts to
this, whether you mean to be a legal tribunal, or an arbitrary and
despotic assembly. I see and I feel the delicacy and difficulty of the
ground upon which we stand in this question. I could wish, indeed, that
they who advised the Crown had not left Parliament in this very
ungraceful distress, in which they can neither retract with dignity nor
persist with justice. Another parliament might have satisfied the people
without lowering themselves. But our situation is not in our own choice:
our conduct in that situation is all that is in our own option. The
substance of the question is, to put bounds to your own power by the
rules and principles of law. This is, I am sensible, a difficult thing
to the corrupt, grasping, and ambitious part of human nature. But the
very difficulty argues and enforces the necessity of it. First, because
the greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse. Since the
Revolution, at least, the power of the nation has all flowed with a full
tide into the House of Commons. Secondly, because the House of Commons,
as it is the most powerful, is the most corruptible part of the whole
Constitution. Our public wounds cannot be concealed; to be cured, they
must be laid open. The public does think we are a corrupt body. In our
legislative capacity we are, in most instances, esteemed a very wise
body. In our judicial, we have no credit, no character at, all. Our
judgments stink in the nostrils of the people. They think us to be not
only without virtue, but without shame. Therefore, the greatness of our
power, and the great and just opinion of our corruptibility and our
corruption, render it necessary to fix some bound, to plant some
landmark, which we are never to exceed. That is what the bill proposes.
First, on this head, I lay it down as a fundamental rule in the law and
constitution of this country, that this House has not by itself alone a
legislative authority in any case whatsoever. I know that the contrary
was the doctrine of the usurping House of Commons which threw down the
fences and bulwarks of law, which annihilated first the lords, then the
Crown, then its constituents. But the first thing that was done on the
restoration of the Constitution was to settle this point. Secondly, I
lay it down as a rule, that the power of occasional incapacitation, on
discretionary grounds, is a legislative power. In order to establish
this principle, if it should not be sufficiently proved by being stated,
tell me what are the criteria, the characteristics, by which you
distinguish between a legislative and a juridical act. It will be
necessary to state, shortly, the difference between a legislative and a
juridical act. A legislative act has no reference to any rule but these
two: original justice, and discretionary application. Therefore, it can
give rights; rights where no rights existed before; and it can take away
rights where they were before established. For the law, which binds all
others, does not and cannot bind the law-maker; he, and he alone, is
above the law. But a judge, a person exercising a judicial capacity, is
neither to apply to original justice, nor to a discretionary application
of it. He goes to justice and discretion only at second hand, and
through the medium of some superiors. He is to work neither upon his
opinion of the one nor of the other; but upon a fixed rule, of which he
has not the making, but singly and solely the application to the case.
The power assumed by the House neither is, nor can be, judicial power
exercised according to known law. The properties of law are, first, that
it should be known; secondly, that it should be fixed and not occasional.
First, this power cannot be according to the first property of law;
because no man does or can know it, nor do you yourselves know upon what
grounds you will vote the incapacity of any man. No man in Westminster
Hall, or in any court upon earth, will say that is law, upon which, if a
man going to his counsel should say to him, "What is my tenure in law of
this estate?" he would answer, "Truly, sir, I know not; the court has no
rule but its own discretion: they will determine." It is not a, fixed
law, because you profess you vary it according to the occasion, exercise
it according to your discretion; no man can call for it as a right. It
is argued that the incapacity is not originally voted, but a consequence
of a power of expulsion: but if you expel, not upon legal, but upon
arbitrary, that is, upon discretionary grounds, and the incapacity is _ex
vi termini_ and inclusively comprehended in the expulsion, is not the
incapacity voted in the expulsion? Are they not convertible terms? and,
if incapacity is voted to be inherent in expulsion, if expulsion be
arbitrary, incapacity is arbitrary also. I have, therefore, shown that
the power of incapacitation is a legislative power; I have shown that
legislative power does not belong to the House of Commons; and,
therefore, it follows that the House of Commons has not a power of
incapacitation.
I know not the origin of the House of Commons, but am very sure that it
did not create itself; the electors wore prior to the elected; whose
rights originated either from the people at large, or from some other
form of legislature, which never could intend for the chosen a power of
superseding the choosers.
If you have not a power of declaring an incapacity simply by the mere act
of declaring it, it is evident to the most ordinary reason you cannot
have a right of expulsion, inferring, or rather, including, an
incapacity, For as the law, when it gives any direct right, gives also as
necessary incidents all the means of acquiring the possession of that
right, so where it does not give a right directly, it refuses all the
means by which such a right may by any mediums be exercised, or in effect
be indirectly acquired. Else it is very obvious that the intention of
the law in refusing that right might be entirely frustrated, and the
whole power of the legislature baffled. If there be no certain
invariable rule of eligibility, it were better to get simplicity, if
certainty is not to be had; and to resolve all the franchises of the
subject into this one short proposition--the will and pleasure of the
House of Commons.
The argument, drawn from the courts of law, applying the principles of
law to new cases as they emerge, is altogether frivolous, inapplicable,
and arises from a total ignorance of the bounds between civil and
criminal jurisdiction, and of the separate maxims that govern these two
provinces of law, that are eternally separate. Undoubtedly the courts of
law, where a new case comes before them, as they do every hour, then,
that there may be no defect in justice, call in similar principles, and
the example of the nearest determination, and do everything to draw the
law to as near a conformity to general equity and right reason as they
can bring it with its being a fixed principle. _Boni judicis est
ampliare justitiam_--that is, to make open and liberal justice. But in
criminal matters this parity of reason, and these analogies, ever have
been, and ever ought to be, shunned.
Whatever is incident to a court of judicature, is necessary to the House
of Commons, as judging in elections. But a power of making incapacities
is not necessary to a court of judicature; therefore a power of making
incapacities is not necessary to the House of Commons.
Incapacity, declared by whatever authority, stands upon two principles:
first, an incapacity arising from the supposed incongruity of two duties
in the commonwealth; secondly, an incapacity arising from unfitness by
infirmity of nature, or the criminality of conduct. As to the first
class of incapacities, they have no hardship annexed to them. The
persons so incapacitated are paid by one dignity for what they abandon in
another, and, for the most part, the situation arises from their own
choice. But as to the second, arising from an unfitness not fixed by
nature, but superinduced by some positive acts, or arising from
honourable motives, such as an occasional personal disability, of all
things it ought to be defined by the fixed rule of law--what Lord Coke
calls the Golden Metwand of the Law, and not by the crooked cord of
discretion. Whatever is general is better born. We take our common lot
with men of the same description. But to be selected and marked out by a
particular brand of unworthiness among our fellow-citizens, is a lot of
all others the hardest to be borne: and consequently is of all others
that act which ought only to be trusted to the legislature, as not only
legislative in its nature, but of all parts of legislature the most
odious. The question is over, if this is shown not to be a legislative
act. But what is very usual and natural, is to corrupt judicature into
legislature. On this point it is proper to inquire whether a court of
judicature, which decides without appeal, has it as a necessary incident
of such judicature, that whatever it decides _de jure_ is law. Nobody
will, I hope, assert this, because the direct consequence would be the
entire extinction of the difference between true and false judgments.
For, if the judgment makes the law, and not the law directs the judgment,
it is impossible there could be such a thing as an illegal judgment
given.
But, instead of standing upon this ground, they introduce another
question, wholly foreign to it, whether it ought not to be submitted to
as if it were law. And then the question is, By the Constitution of this
country, what degree of submission is due to the authoritative acts of a
limited power? This question of submission, determine it how you please,
has nothing to do in this discussion and in this House. Here it is not
how long the people are bound to tolerate the illegality of our
judgments, but whether we have a right to substitute our occasional
opinion in the place of law, so as to deprive the citizen of his
franchise.
SPEECH ON THE POWERS OF JURIES IN PROSECUTIONS FOR LIBELS
MARCH, 1771
I have always understood that a superintendence over the doctrines, as
well as the proceedings, of the courts of justice, was a principal object
of the constitution of this House; that you were to watch at once over
the lawyer and the law; that there should he an orthodox faith as well as
proper works: and I have always looked with a degree of reverence and
admiration on this mode of superintendence. For being totally disengaged
from the detail of juridical practice, we come to something, perhaps, the
better qualified, and certainly much the better disposed to assert the
genuine principle of the laws; in which we can, as a body, have no other
than an enlarged and a public interest. We have no common cause of a
professional attachment, or professional emulations, to bias our minds;
we have no foregone opinions, which, from obstinacy and false point of
honour, we think ourselves at all events obliged to support. So that
with our own minds perfectly disengaged from the exercise, we may
superintend the execution of the national justice; which from this
circumstance is better secured to the people than in any other country
under heaven it can be. As our situation puts us in a proper condition,
our power enables us to execute this trust. We may, when we see cause of
complaint, administer a remedy; it is in our choice by an address to
remove an improper judge, by impeachment before the peers to pursue to
destruction a corrupt judge, or by bill to assert, to explain, to
enforce, or to reform the law, just as the occasion and necessity of the
case shall guide us. We stand in a situation very honourable to
ourselves, and very useful to our country, if we do not abuse or abandon
the trust that is placed in us.
The question now before you is upon the power of juries in prosecuting
for libels. There are four opinions. 1. That the doctrine as held by
the courts is proper and constitutional, and therefore should not be
altered. 2. That it is neither proper nor constitutional, but that it
will be rendered worse by your interference. 3. That it is wrong, but
that the only remedy is a bill of retrospect. 4. The opinion of those
who bring in the bill; that the thing is wrong, but that it is enough to
direct the judgment of the court in future.
The bill brought in is for the purpose of asserting and securing a great
object in the juridical constitution of this kingdom; which, from a long
series of practices and opinions in our judges, has, in one point, and in
one very essential point, deviated from the true principle.
It is the very ancient privilege of the people of England that they shall
be tried, except in the known exceptions, not by judges appointed by the
Crown, but by their own fellow-subjects, the peers of that county court
at which they owe their suit and service; out of this principle trial by
juries has grown. This principle has not, that I can find, been
contested in any case, by any authority whatsoever; but there is one
case, in which, without directly contesting the principle, the whole
substance, energy, acid virtue of the privilege, is taken out of it; that
is, in the case of a trial by indictment or information for libel. The
doctrine in that case laid down by several judges amounts to this, that
the jury have no competence where a libel is alleged, except to find the
gross corporeal facts of the writing and the publication, together with
the identity of the things and persons to which it refers; but that the
intent and the tendency of the work, in which intent and tendency the
whole criminality consists, is the sole and exclusive province of the
judge. Thus having reduced the jury to the cognisance of facts, not in
themselves presumptively criminal, but actions neutral and indifferent
the whole matter, in which the subject has any concern or interest, is
taken out of the hands of the jury: and if the jury take more upon
themselves, what they so take is contrary to their duty; it is no moral,
but a merely natural power; the same, by which they may do any other
improper act, the same, by which they may even prejudice themselves with
regard to any other part of the issue before them. Such is the matter as
it now stands, in possession of your highest criminal courts, handed down
to them from very respectable legal ancestors. If this can once be
established in this case, the application in principle to other cases
will be easy; and the practice will run upon a descent, until the
progress of an encroaching jurisdiction (for it is in its nature to
encroach, when once it has passed its limits) coming to confine the
juries, case after case, to the corporeal fact, and to that alone, and
excluding the intention of mind, the only source of merit and demerit, of
reward or punishment, juries become a dead letter in the constitution.
For which reason it is high time to take this matter into the
consideration of Parliament, and for that purpose it will be necessary to
examine, first, whether there is anything in the peculiar nature of this
crime that makes it necessary to exclude the jury from considering the
intention in it, more than in others. So far from it, that I take it to
be much less so from the analogy of other criminal cases, where no such
restraint is ordinarily put upon them. The act of homicide is _prima
facie_ criminal. The intention is afterwards to appear, for the jury to
acquit or condemn. In burglary do they insist that the jury have nothing
to do but to find the taking of goods, and that, if they do, they must
necessarily find the party guilty, and leave the rest to the judge; and
that they have nothing to do with the word _felonice_ in the indictment?
The next point is to consider it as a question of constitutional policy,
that is, whether the decision of the question of libel ought to be left
to the judges as a presumption of law, rather than to the jury as matter
of popular judgment, as the malice in the case of murder, the felony in
the case of stealing. If the intent and tendency are not matters within
the province of popular judgment, but legal and technical conclusions,
formed upon general principles of law, let us see what they are.
Certainly they are most unfavourable, indeed, totally adverse, to the
Constitution of this country.
Here we must have recourse to analogies, for we cannot argue on ruled
cases one way or the other. See the history. The old books, deficient
in general in Crown cases furnish us with little on this head. As to the
crime, in the very early Saxon Law, I see an offence of this species,
called Folk-leasing, made a capital offence, but no very precise
definition of the crime, and no trial at all: see the statute of 3rd
Edward I. cap. 34. The law of libels could not have arrived at a very
early period in this country. It is no wonder that we find no vestige of
any constitution from authority, or of any deductions from legal science
in our old books and records upon that subject. The statute of
_scandalum magnatum_ is the oldest that I know, and this goes but a
little way in this sort of learning. Libelling is not the crime of an
illiterate people. When they were thought no mean clerks who could read
and write, when he who could read and write was presumptively a person in
holy orders, libels could not be general or dangerous; and scandals
merely oral could spread little, and must perish soon. It is writing, it
is printing more emphatically, that imps calumny with those eagle wings,
on which, as the poet says, "immortal slanders fly." By the press they
spread, they last, they leave the sting in the wound. Printing was not
known in England much earlier than the reign of Henry VII., and in the
third year of that reign the Court of Star Chamber was established. The
press and its enemy are nearly coeval. As no positive law against libels
existed, they fell under the indefinite class of misdemeanours. For the
trial of misdemeanours that court was instituted, their tendency to
produce riots and disorders was a main part of the charge, and was laid,
in order to give the court jurisdiction chiefly against libels. The
offence was new. Learning of their own upon the subject they had none,
and they were obliged to resort to the only emporium where it was to be
had, the Roman Law. After the Star Chamber was abolished in the 10th of
Charles I. its authority indeed ceased, but its maxims subsisted and
survived it. The spirit of the Star Chamber has transmigrated and lived
again, and Westminster Hall was obliged to borrow from the Star Chamber,
for the same reasons as the Star Chamber had borrowed from the Roman
Forum, because they had no law, statute, or tradition of their own. Thus
the Roman Law took possession of our courts, I mean its doctrine, not its
sanctions; the severity of capital punishment was omitted, all the rest
remained. The grounds of these laws are just and equitable. Undoubtedly
the good fame of every man ought to be under the protection of the laws
as well as his life, and liberty, and property. Good fame is an outwork,
that defends them all, and renders them all valuable. The law forbids
you to revenge; when it ties up the hands of some, it ought to restrain
the tongues of others. The good fame of government is the same, it ought
not to be traduced. This is necessary in all government, and if opinion
be support, what takes away this destroys that support; but the liberty
of the press is necessary to this government.
The wisdom, however, of government is of more importance than the laws. I
should study the temper of the people before I ventured on actions of
this kind. I would consider the whole of the prosecution of a libel of
such importance as Junius, as one piece, as one consistent plan of
operations; and I would contrive it so that, if I were defeated, I should
not be disgraced; that even my victory should not be more ignominious
than my defeat; I would so manage, that the lowest in the predicament of
guilt should not be the only one in punishment. I would not inform
against the mere vender of a collection of pamphlets. I would not put
him to trial first, if I could possibly avoid it. I would rather stand
the consequences of my first error, than carry it to a judgment that must
disgrace my prosecution, or the court. We ought to examine these things
in a manner which becomes ourselves, and becomes the object of the
inquiry; not to examine into the most important consideration which can
come before us, with minds heated with prejudice and filled with
passions, with vain popular opinions and humours, and when we propose to
examine into the justice of others, to be unjust ourselves.
An inquiry is wished, as the most effectual way of putting an end to the
clamours and libels, which are the disorder and disgrace of the times.
For people remain quiet, they sleep secure, when they imagine that the
vigilant eye of a censorial magistrate watches over all the proceedings
of judicature, and that the sacred fire of an eternal constitutional
jealousy, which is the guardian of liberty, law, and justice, is alive
night and day, and burning in this house. But when the magistrate gives
up his office and his duty, the people assume it, and they inquire too
much, and too irreverently, because they think their representatives do
not inquire at all.
We have in a libel, 1st. The writing. 2nd. The communication, called
by the lawyers the publication. 3rd. The application to persons and
facts. 4th. The intent and tendency. 5th. The matter--diminution of
fame. The law presumptions on all these are in the communication. No
intent can, make a defamatory publication good, nothing can make it have
a good tendency; truth is not pleadable. Taken juridically, the
foundation of these law presumptions is not unjust; taken
constitutionally, they are ruinous, and tend to the total suppression of
all publication. If juries are confined to the fact, no writing which
censures, however justly, or however temperately, the conduct of
administration, can be unpunished. Therefore, if the intent and tendency
be left to the judge, as legal conclusions growing from the fact, you may
depend upon it you can have no public discussion of a public measure,
which is a point which even those who are most offended with the
licentiousness of the press (and it is very exorbitant, very provoking)
will hardly contend for.
So far as to the first opinion, that the doctrine is right and needs no
alteration. 2nd. The next is, that it is wrong, but that we are not in a
condition to help it. I admit, it is true, that there are cases of a
nature so delicate and complicated, that an Act of Parliament on the
subject may become a matter of great difficulty. It sometimes cannot
define with exactness, because the subject-matter will not bear an exact
definition. It may seem to take away everything which it does not
positively establish, and this might be inconvenient; or it may seem
_vice versa_ to establish everything which it does not expressly take
away. It may be more advisable to leave such matters to the enlightened
discretion of a judge, awed by a censorial House of Commons. But then it
rests upon those who object to a legislative interposition to prove these
inconveniences in the particular case before them. For it would be a
most dangerous, as it is a most idle and most groundless, conceit to
assume as a general principle, that the rights and liberties of the
subject are impaired by the care and attention of the legislature to
secure them. If so, very ill would the purchase of Magna Charta have
merited the deluge of blood, which was shed in order to have the body of
English privileges defined by a positive written law. This charter, the
inestimable monument of English freedom, so long the boast and glory of
this nation, would have been at once an instrument of our servitude, and
a monument of our folly, if this principle were true. The thirty four
confirmations would have been only so many repetitions of their
absurdity, so many new links in the chain, and so many invalidations of
their right.
You cannot open your statute book without seeing positive provisions
relative to every right of the subject. This business of juries is the
subject of not fewer than a dozen. To suppose that juries are something
innate in the Constitution of Great Britain, that they have jumped, like
Minerva, out of the head of Jove in complete armour, is a weak fancy,
supported neither by precedent nor by reason. Whatever is most ancient
and venerable in our Constitution, royal prerogative, privileges of
parliament, rights of elections, authority of courts, juries, must have
been modelled according to the occasion. I spare your patience, and I
pay a compliment to your understanding, in not attempting to prove that
anything so elaborate and artificial as a jury was not the work of
chance, but a matter of institution, brought to its present state by the
joint efforts of legislative authority and juridical prudence. It need
not be ashamed of being (what in many parts of it at least it is) the
offspring of an Act of Parliament, unless it is a shame for our laws to
be the results of our legislature. Juries, which sensitively shrank from
the rude touch of parliamentary remedy, have been the subject of not
fewer than, I think, forty-three Acts of Parliament, in which they have
been changed with all the authority of a creator over its creature, from
Magna Charta to the great alterations which were made in the 29th of
George II.
To talk of this matter in any other way is to turn a rational principle
into an idle and vulgar superstition, like the antiquary, Dr. Woodward,
who trembled to have his shield scoured, for fear it should be discovered
to be no better than an old pot-lid. This species of tenderness to a
jury puts me in mind of a gentleman of good condition, who had been
reduced to great poverty and distress; application was made to some rich
fellows in his neighbourhood to give him some assistance; but they begged
to be excused for fear of affronting a person of his high birth; and so
the poor gentleman was left to starve out of pure respect to the
antiquity of his family. From this principle has risen an opinion that I
find current amongst gentlemen, that this distemper ought to be left to
cure itself; that the judges having been well exposed, and something
terrified on account of these clamours, will entirely change, if not very
much relax from their rigour; if the present race should not change, that
the chances of succession may put other more constitutional judges in
their place; lastly, if neither should happen, yet that the spirit of an
English jury will always be sufficient for the vindication of its own
rights, and will not suffer itself to be overborne by the bench. I
confess that I totally dissent from all these opinions. These
suppositions become the strongest reasons with me to evince the necessity
of some clear and positive settlement of this question of contested
jurisdiction. If judges are so full of levity, so full of timidity, if
they are influenced by such mean and unworthy passions, that a popular
clamour is sufficient to shake the resolution they build upon the solid
basis of a legal principle, I would endeavour to fix that mercury by a
positive law. If to please an administration the judges can go one way
to-day, and to please the crowd they can go another to-morrow; if they
will oscillate backward and forward between power and popularity, it is
high time to fix the law in such a manner as to resemble, as it ought,
the great Author of all law, in "whom there is no variableness nor shadow
of turning."
As to their succession, I have just the same opinion. I would not leave
it to the chances of promotion, or to the characters of lawyers, what the
law of the land, what the rights of juries, or what the liberty of the
press should be. My law should not depend upon the fluctuation of the
closet, or the complexion of men. Whether a black-haired man or a fair-
haired man presided in the Court of King's Bench, I would have the law
the same: the same whether he was born in _domo regnatrice_, and sucked
from his infancy the milk of courts, or was nurtured in the rugged
discipline of a popular opposition. This law of court cabal and of
party, this _mens quaedam nullo perturbata affectu_, this law of
complexion, ought not to be endured for a moment in a country whose being
depends upon the certainty, clearness, and stability of institutions.
Now I come to the last substitute for the proposed bill, the spirit of
juries operating their own jurisdiction. This, I confess, I think the
worst of all, for the same reasons on which I objected to the others, and
for other weighty reasons besides which are separate and distinct. First,
because juries, being taken at random out of a mass of men infinitely
large, must be of characters as various as the body they arise from is
large in its extent. If the judges differ in their complexions, much
more will a jury. A timid jury will give way to an awful judge
delivering oracularly the law, and charging them on their oaths, and
putting it home to their consciences, to beware of judging where the law
had given them no competence. We know that they will do so, they have
done so in a hundred instances; a respectable member of your own house,
no vulgar man, tells you that on the authority of a judge he found a man
guilty, in whom, at the same time, he could find no guilt. But supposing
them full of knowledge and full of manly confidence in themselves, how
will their knowledge, or their confidence, inform or inspirit others?
They give no reason for their verdict, they can but condemn or acquit;
and no man can tell the motives on which they have acquitted or
condemned. So that this hope of the power of juries to assert their own
jurisdiction must be a principle blind, as being without reason, and as
changeable as the complexion of men and the temper of the times.
But, after all, is it fit that this dishonourable contention between the
court and juries should subsist any longer? On what principle is it that
a jury refuses to be directed by the court as to his competence? Whether
a libel or no libel be a question of law or of fact may be doubted, but a
question of jurisdiction and competence is certainly a question of law;
on this the court ought undoubtedly to judge, and to judge solely and
exclusively. If they judge wrong from excusable error, you ought to
correct it, as to-day it is proposed, by an explanatory bill; or if by
corruption, by bill of penalties declaratory, and by punishment. What
does a juror say to a judge when he refuses his opinion upon a question
of judicature? You are so corrupt, that I should consider myself a
partaker of your crime, were I to be guided by your opinion; or you are
so grossly ignorant, that I, fresh from my bounds, from my plough, my
counter, or my loom, am fit to direct you in your profession. This is an
unfitting, it is a dangerous, state of things. The spirit of any sort of
men is not a fit rule for deciding on the bounds of their jurisdiction.
First, because it is different in different men, and even different in
the same at different times; and can never become the proper directing
line of law; next, because it is not reason, but feeling; and when once
it is irritated, it is not apt to confine itself within its proper
limits. If it becomes, not difference in opinion upon law, but a trial
of spirit between parties, our courts of law are no longer the temple of
justice, but the amphitheatre for gladiators. No--God forbid! Juries
ought to take their law from the bench only; but it is our business that
they should hear nothing from the bench but what is agreeable to the
principles of the Constitution. The jury are to hear the judge, the
judge is to hear the law where it speaks plain; where it does not, he is
to hear the legislature. As I do not think these opinions of the judges
to be agreeable to those principles, I wish to take the only method in
which they can or ought to be corrected, by bill.
Next, my opinion is, that it ought to be rather by a bill for removing
controversies than by a bill in the state of manifest and express
declaration, and in words _de praeterito_. I do this upon reasons of
equity and constitutional policy. I do not want to censure the present
judges. I think them to be excused for their error. Ignorance is no
excuse for a judge: it is changing the nature of his crime--it is not
absolving. It must be such error as a wise and conscientious judge may
possibly fall into, and must arise from one or both these causes: first,
a plausible principle of law; secondly, the precedents of respectable
authorities, and in good times. In the first, the principle of law, that
the judge is to decide on law, the jury to decide on fact, is an ancient
and venerable principle and maxim of the law, and if supported in this
application by precedents of good times and of good men, the judge, if
wrong, ought to be corrected; he ought not to be reproved, or to be
disgraced, or the authority or respect to your tribunals to be impaired.
In cases in which declaratory bills have been made, where by violence and
corruption some fundamental part of the Constitution has been struck at;
where they would damn the principle, censure the persons, and annul the
acts; but where the law having been, by the accident of human frailty,
depraved, or in a particular instance misunderstood, where you neither
mean to rescind the acts, nor to censure the persons, in such cases you
have taken the explanatory mode, and, without condemning what is done,
you direct the future judgment of the court.
All bills for the reformation of the law must be according to the subject-
matter, the circumstances, and the occasion, and are of four kinds:--1.
Either the law is totally wanting, and then a new enacting statute must
be made to supply that want; or, 2. It is defective, then a new law must
be made to enforce it. 3. Or it is opposed by power or fraud, and then
an act must be made to declare it. 4 Or it is rendered doubtful and
controverted, and then a law must be made to explain it. These must be
applied according to the exigence of the case; one is just as good as
another of them. Miserable, indeed, would be the resources, poor and
unfurnished the stores and magazines of legislation, if we were bound up
to a little narrow form, and not able to frame our acts of parliament
according to every disposition of our own minds, and to every possible
emergency of the commonwealth; to make them declaratory, enforcing,
explanatory, repealing, just in what mode, or in what degree we please.
Those who think that the judges, living and dead, are to be condemned,
that your tribunals of justice are to be dishonoured, that their acts and
judgments on this business are to be rescinded, they will undoubtedly
vote against this bill, and for another sort.
I am not of the opinion of those gentlemen who are against disturbing the
public repose; I like a clamour whenever there is an abuse. The fire-
bell at midnight disturbs your sleep, but it keeps you from being burned
in your bed. The hue and cry alarms the county, but it preserves all the
property of the province. All these clamours aim at redress. But a
clamour made merely for the purpose of rendering the people discontented
with their situation, without an endeavour to give them a practical
remedy, is indeed one of the worst acts of sedition.
I have read and heard much upon the conduct of our courts in the business
of libels. I was extremely willing to enter into, and very free to act
as facts should turn out on that inquiry, aiming constantly at remedy as
the end of all clamour, all debate, all writing, and all inquiry; for
which reason I did embrace, and do now with joy, this method of giving
quiet to the courts, jurisdiction to juries, liberty to the press, and
satisfaction to the people. I thank my friends for what they have done;
I hope the public will one day reap the benefit of their pious and
judicious endeavours. They have now sown the seed; I hope they will live
to see the flourishing harvest. Their bill is sown in weakness; it will,
I trust, be reaped in power; and then, however, we shall have reason to
apply to them what my Lord Coke says was an aphorism continually in the
mouth of a great sage of the law, "Blessed be not the complaining tongue,
but blessed be the amending hand."