CHAPTER VIII.

Survey of the Reign of George III.--The Cato Street Conspiracy.--The

Queen's Return to England, and the Proceedings against her.--The King

Visits Ireland and Scotland.--Reform of the Criminal Code.--Freedom of

Trade.--Death of Lord Liverpool.--The Duke of Wellington becomes

Prime-minister.--Repeal of the Test and Corporation Act.--O'Connell is

Elected for Clare.--Peel Resigns his Seat for Oxford.--Catholic

Emancipation.--Question of the Endowment of the Roman Catholic

Clergy.--Constitutional Character of the Emancipation.--The Propriety of

Mr. Peel's Resignation of his Seat for Oxford Questioned.

In the first month of 1820 George III. died. His had been an eventful

reign, strangely checkered with disaster and glory; but, if we compare

its close with its commencement, it was still more remarkably

distinguished by a development of the resources and an increase in the

wealth and power of the nation, to which the history of no other country

in the same space of time affords any parallel.

Regarded from the first point of view, our successes greatly outweighed

our disasters. The loss of our North American Colonies, the only event

which can be so described, was far more than counterbalanced by our vast

acquisitions in India, at the Cape of Good Hope, and Malta; while to our

maritime supremacy, in the complete establishment of which Rodney and

Nelson had crowned the work of Anson and Hawke, was now added a splendor

of military renown far surpassing that achieved by any other of the

nations which had borne their share in the overthrow of Napoleon.

The increase of our resources is sufficiently shown by a single fact. At

his accession George III. found the kingdom engaged in the great seven

years' war; one British army employed beyond the Rhine, another in

India; fleets traversing the seas in every direction, capturing the

Havana, in the West Indies; Manilla, in the East; and routing French

squadrons in sight of their own harbors. While, to maintain these varied

armaments, supplies were voted by Parliament in 1761 to what Lord

Stanhope calls "the unprecedented amount of almost twenty millions." In

1813 the supplies reached nearly six times that amount,[182] and that

prodigious sum was raised with greater ease than the revenue of 1761,

the interest on the necessary loans being also lower than it had been on

the former occasion.

The philosophical man of science will point with at least equal

exultation to the great discoveries in art and science; to the

achievements of the mechanic, the engineer, and the chemist; to the

labors of Brindley and Arkwright and Watts, to which, indeed, this great

expansion of the resources and growth of the wealth of the country is

principally owing.

While, as the preceding chapters of this work have been designed to

show, our political progress and advancement had been no less steady or

valuable; yet, important from a constitutional point of view as were

many of the labors of our legislators in these sixty years, they are

surpassed in their influence on the future history of the nation, as

well as in the reality and greatness of the changes which were produced

by them in the constitution, by the transactions of the reigns of the

next two sovereigns, though the two united scarcely equalled in their

duration a quarter of that of their venerable father.

It has been seen how Pitt was baffled in his efforts to remodel the

House of Commons, and to remove the disabilities under which the Roman

Catholics labored, the reasons for which, even granting that they had

been sufficient to justify their original imposition, had, in his

judgment, long passed away. His pursuit of the other great object of his

domestic policy, the emancipation of trade from the shackles which

impeded its universal development, was rudely interrupted by the

pressure of the war forced upon him by that very nation which he had

desired to make the first partner, if one may use such an expression, in

the prosperity which he hoped to diffuse by his commercial treaty with

her. But, as in the case of other men in advance of their age, the

principles which he had asserted were destined to bear fruit at a later

period. And the mere fact of a change in the person of the sovereign

seemed to make a change in the policy hitherto pursued less unnatural.

Yet, memorable as the reforms which it witnessed were destined to make

it, no reign ever commenced with more sinister omens than that at which

we have now arrived. The new King had not been on the throne a month,

when a conspiracy was discovered, surpassing in its treasonable atrocity

any that had been heard of in the kingdom since the days of the

Gunpowder Plot; and, even before those concerned in that foul crime had

been brought to punishment, the public mind was yet more generally and

profoundly agitated by a scandal which, in one point of view, was still

more painful, as in some degree involving the whole kingdom in its

disgrace.

The marriage of the present sovereign to Mrs. Fitzherbert has already

been mentioned. A few years afterward, in the year 1795, regarding that

marriage as illegal, he had contracted a second with his cousin, the

Princess Caroline of Brunswick. But, even in royal families, a more

unfortunate alliance had never taken place. They had never met till she

arrived in England for the wedding; and, as he had never professed any

other motive for consenting to the match than a desire to obtain the

payment of his debts, he did not think it necessary to disguise his

feelings, or to change his habits, or even to treat her with decency for

a single day. On his very first introduction to her he behaved to her

with marked discourtesy.[183] Shortly after the marriage he formally

separated himself from her, and, both before and after the separation,

lived in undisguised licentiousness. She, on her part, indignant at his

neglect and infidelity, and exasperated at the restrictions which he

presently placed on her intercourse with their only child, made no

secret of her feelings, and on many occasions displayed such disregard

of the ordinary rules of prudence and propriety, that he had some color

for charges of infidelity to her marriage vows which, after a few years,

he brought against her. The King, her uncle, could not refuse to appoint

a commission to investigate the truth of the accusation; but the

commissioners unanimously acquitted her of any graver fault than

imprudence. She was again received at court, from which she had been

excluded while the inquiry was pending; but her husband's animosity

toward her was not appeased. As time wore on, and as the King's

derangement deprived her of her only protector, it even seemed as if he

desired to give it all the notoriety possible, till at last, wearied out

by his implacable persecution, she sought and obtained his permission to

quit the country and take up her abode abroad. It was a most unfortunate

resolution on her part. She fixed her residence in Italy, where she

gradually learned to neglect the caution which she had observed in

England, till, after a year or two, reports arose of her intimacy with a

servant whom she had raised from a menial situation to that of the chief

officer of her household, and whom she admitted to a familiarity of

intercourse which others besides her husband thought quite incompatible

with innocence. He sent agents into Italy to inquire into the truth of

those rumors; and their report so greatly confirmed them that, even

before the King's death, he laid it before the Prime-minister, with a

demand that he should at once take steps to procure him a divorce, in

which he professed to believe that the Princess herself would willingly

acquiesce. He was so far correct, that her legal advisers were willing

to advise her to consent to "a formal separation, to be ratified by an

act of Parliament." But such an arrangement fell far short of the

Prince's wishes. The Princess Charlotte, the heiress to his throne, had

died in childbirth two years before, and he was anxious to be set free

to marry again. The ministers were placed in a situation of painful

embarrassment. There was an obvious difficulty in pointing out to one

who already stood toward them in the character of their sovereign, and

who must inevitably soon become so, that his own conduct made the

prospect of obtaining a divorce from the Ecclesiastical Courts hopeless;

and the only other expedients calculated to attain his end, "a direct

application to Parliament for relief, founded upon the special

circumstances of the case," or "a proceeding against the Princess for

high-treason," were but little more promising. Indeed, it was afterward

ascertained to be the unanimous opinion of the judges that the charge of

high-treason could not be legally sustained, since the individual who

was alleged to be the partner in the criminality imputed to her was a

foreigner, and therefore, "owing no allegiance to the crown," could not

be said to have violated it.[184]

He chafed under their resistance to his wish, and would have deprived

them of their offices, could he have relied on any successors whom he

might give them proving more complaisant; but, before he could make up

his mind, the death of George III. forced upon both him and them the

consideration of his and his wife's position, since it made it necessary

to remodel the prayer for the royal family, and instantly to decide

whether her name and title as Queen were to be inserted in it. He was

determined that they should not be mentioned; and, as the practice of

praying for a Queen Consort by name appeared not to have been

invariable, they were willing to gratify him on this point, though it

was evidently highly probable that she would consider this as a fresh

insult, sufficient to justify her in carrying out a threat, which she

had recently held out, of returning to England. Her ablest advisers did

not, indeed, regard it in this light, since the prayer as now framed

implored the Divine protection for "all the royal family" in general

terms, in which she might be supposed to be included, and made no

separate mention of any member of the family.[185] But, unfortunately,

she was much more under the influence of counsellors who were neither

lawyers nor statesmen, but who only desired to use her as a tool to

obtain notoriety for themselves. A long negotiation ensued. It was

inevitable that some application should be made to Parliament in

connection with her affairs, since the annuity which had been settled

upon her by Parliament in 1814, on the occasion of her departure from

England, had expired with the life of the late King. And the ministers

proposed that that annuity should now be raised from £35,000 to £50,000,

on condition of her remaining abroad, having, by their positive refusal

to concur in any proceedings against her while she remained abroad,

extorted the King's acquiescence in this proposal, though he called it a

"great and painful sacrifice of his personal feelings." They sought to

conciliate her acceptance of it by mentioning her in it by her title of

"Queen," and by coupling with it a sanction to her appointment of her

law-officers, an Attorney and Solicitor General, an act which could only

be exercised by a Queen. And, though a part of the condition of her

residence abroad required that she should do so under some other title,

that seemed only a conforming to an ordinary practice of royal princes

on their travels. At the same time, the ministers stated frankly to Mr.

Brougham, a lawyer of the highest reputation as an advocate, whom she

had appointed her Attorney-general, that, if she should reject the

offer, and come to England, as she had already announced her intention

of doing, such a course would leave them no alternative, but would

compel them to institute proceedings against her.

Eventually she preferred the advice of others to that of Mr. Brougham,

or, as it may, perhaps, be more consistent with the real fact to say,

she yielded to her own feelings of hatred of her husband, which, it must

be confessed, were far from unnatural. She believed, or professed to

believe, that he had more to dread from an exposure of his conduct than

she had from any revelations of her actions; and, under this impression,

in the spring she crossed the Channel and took up her residence in

London. It was a step which seemed to Lord Liverpool to leave him no

alternative, and, in consequence, he at once took the course which he

had from the beginning conceived her arrival would render indispensable.

He brought down to Parliament a royal message from the King, announcing

that her return to England had made it necessary to communicate to the

Houses documents relating to her conduct since her departure from the

kingdom, which he recommended to their immediate and serious attention.

He proposed the appointment by ballot of a committee of the House of

Lords to examine those documents; and when the committee had reported

that the documents containing "allegations deeply affecting the honor of

the Queen, etc., ... appeared to the committee calculated to affect not

only the honor of the Queen, but also the dignity of the crown and the

moral feelings and honor of the country, so that in their opinion, they

should become the subject of a solemn inquiry, which might be best

effected in the course of a legislative proceeding," he introduced a

"Bill of Pains and Penalties" to deprive her of her title of Queen, and

to annul her marriage.

No one would willingly dwell on so melancholy and disgraceful a subject.

As far as the Queen was concerned, a protracted investigation, during

which a number of witnesses, favorable and unfavorable, were examined,

left no doubt on the mind of almost all dispassionate people that the

misconduct alleged against her had been abundantly proved. At the same

time there was a feeling equally general that the King's treatment of

her from the very beginning of their married life had disentitled him to

any kind of relief; and this sentiment was so strongly shown by the

gradual diminution of the majority in favor of the bill, as it proceeded

through its several stages, that Lord Liverpool, who had already

abandoned the clause annulling the marriage, eventually withdrew the

whole bill, perceiving the impossibility of inducing the House of

Commons to pass it when it should go down to that House.

No act of Lord Liverpool's ministry has been attacked with greater

bitterness than that of allowing any proceedings whatever to be taken

against the Queen, partly on the ground that, however profligate her

conduct had been, it had certainly not been more gross than that of her

husband, which had provoked and given opportunity for her errors; partly

because a great scandal was thus published to the world, and a shock was

given to the national decency and morality which the ministers, above

all men, were bound to avoid; partly, also, because the mode of

proceeding adopted was alleged to be wholly unprecedented; and because,

as was contended, the power of Parliament ought not to be invoked to

inflict penalties which, if deserved, should have been left to the

courts of law. It cannot be denied that there is weight in these

objections; but, in estimating their force, it must be considered that

every part of the conduct of the ministers showed that their motive was

not the gratification of the King's private feelings, whether directed

to the object of indulging his enmity against his wife or to that of

obtaining freedom to contract a second marriage; on the contrary, so

long as the Queen remained abroad, no language could be more distinct,

consistently with the respect due to his royal dignity, than that in

which they expressed to him their insurmountable objection to every mode

of proceeding against her which he had suggested, founded almost equally

on considerations of "the interests of his Majesty and of the

monarchy,"[186] and "the painful obligation" under which they conceived

themselves to lie "of postponing their regard for his Majesty's feelings

to great public interests."

But when the Queen came to England the case was greatly altered. The

question now forced on the consideration of the cabinet was, not the

mode of avoiding an intolerable scandal, but the choice between two

scandals, both of the gravest character. The scandal to be dreaded from

the revelations of the conduct of both King and Queen, that could not

fail to result from the investigation which, in justice, must precede

any attempt to legislate on the subject, was, indeed, as great as ever;

but it had now to be compared with the alternative scandal of allowing a

woman lying under such grievous imputations to preside over the British

court, as, if resident in England, and in undisturbed possession of her

royal rank, she of necessity must preside. The consequence would

evidently have been that the court would have been deserted by all who

could give lustre and dignity to it by their position and character;

and, in the slights thus offered to her, royalty and the monarchy

themselves would seem to be brought into contempt. The latter scandal,

too, would be the more permanent. Grievous and shameful as might be the

disclosures which must be anticipated from an investigation in which the

person accused must be permitted the employment of every means of

defence, including recrimination, the scandal was yet one which would,

to a certain extent, pass away with the close of the inquiry. But, if

she were left undisturbed in the enjoyment of her royal rank, and of

privileges which could not be separated from it, that scandal would last

as long as her life--longer, in all probability, than the reign. It is

hardly too much to say that the monarchy itself might have been

endangered by the spectacle of such a King and such a Queen; and the

ministers might fairly contend that, of two great dangers and evils,

they had, on the whole, chosen the least.

Lastly, if the Queen's conduct was to be investigated, though the mode

adopted was denounced as unconstitutional by the Opposition (for, not

greatly to their credit, the leading Whigs made her guilt or innocence a

party question), it does not seem to deserve the epithet, though it may

be confessed to have been unsupported by any direct precedent. Isabella,

the faithless wife of Edward II., had, indeed, been condemned by "the

Lords" to the forfeiture of many of the estates which she had illegally

appropriated; but it does not appear that her violation of her marriage

vows, or even her probable share or acquiescence in her husband's

murder, formed any portion of the grounds of her deprivation. And the

Parliament which attainted Catherine Howard proceeded solely on her

confession of ante-nuptial licentiousness, without giving her any

opportunity of answering or disproving the other charges which were

brought against her. Unprecedented, therefore, the course now adopted

may be admitted to have been. But it was the only practicable one. The

different minutes of the cabinet, which the Prime-minister laid before

the King, established most conclusively the correctness of their opinion

that no impeachment for high-treason could lie against her. She could

not be an accomplice in such an offence of one who, being a foreigner,

could not have committed it. It was equally impossible for the King to

sue for a divorce, as one of his subjects might have done; because it

was the established practice of Parliament not to entertain a bill of

divorce without the judgment of the Ecclesiastical Court being

previously obtained and produced. And, under the circumstances, to

obtain from the Ecclesiastical Court such a sentence as could alone lay

the foundation for a bill of divorce was clearly out of the question.

The case was a new and extraordinary one, and, being such, could only be

dealt with in some new and extraordinary manner. And in all such cases

an appeal to Parliament seems the most, if not the only, constitutional

mode of solving the difficulty. Where the existing laws are silent or

inapplicable, the most natural resource clearly is, to go back to the

fountain of all law; that is, to the Parliament, which alone is

competent to make a new law. In one point of view the question may seem

unimportant, since we may well hope that no similar case will ever arise

to require the precedent now set to be appealed to; but not unimportant,

if it in any way or degree contributes to establish the great principle,

that the solution of all matters of moment to the state belongs to the

Parliament alone: a principle which, in its legitimate completeness,

carries with it a condemnation of many a modern association whose

object, whether avowed or disguised, is clearly to supersede where it

fails to intimidate the sole constitutional Legislature.

The abandonment of the bill was naturally hailed as a triumph by the

Queen and her partisans; but with the excitement of the struggle against

the government the interest taken in her case died away. The next year,

when she demanded to be crowned with her husband, his refusal to admit

her claim elicited scarcely any sympathy for her under this renewed

grievance; in truth, it was one as to which precedent was unfavorable to

her demand. And the mortification at finding herself already almost

forgotten contributed to bring on an illness of which she died in less

than a year after the termination of what was called her trial; and in a

short time both she and it were forgotten.

For the next few years the history of the kingdom is one of progressive

correction of abuses or defects. The King paid visits to Ireland and

Scotland, parts of his dominions which his father had never once

visited, and in both was received with the most exultant and apparently

sincere acclamations. And, though one great calamity fell on the

ministry in the loss of Lord Castlereagh--who, in a fit of derangement,

brought on by the excitement of overwork, unhappily laid violent hands

on himself--his death, sad as it was, could not be said to weaken or to

affect the general policy of the cabinet. Indeed, as he was replaced at

the Foreign Office by his old colleague and rival, Mr. Canning, in one

point of view the administration may be said to have been strengthened

by the change, since, as an orator, Canning had confessedly no equal in

either House of Parliament. Another change was productive of still more

practical advantage. Lord Sidmouth retired from the Home Office, and was

succeeded by Mr. Peel, previously Secretary for Ireland; and the

transfer of that statesman to an English office facilitated reforms,

some of which were as yet little anticipated even by the new Secretary

himself. The earliest of them, and one not the least important in its

bearing on the well-doing of society, the mitigation of the severity of

our Criminal Code, was, indeed, but the following up of a series of

measures in the same direction which had been commenced in the time of

the Duke of Portland's second administration, and, it must be added, in

spite of its resistance. The influence of various trades, and of the

owners of different kinds of property, pressing in turns upon our

legislators, had rendered our code the most sanguinary that had,

probably, ever existed in Christendom. Each class of proprietor regarded

only the preservation of his own property, and had no belief in the

efficacy of any kind of protection for it, except such as arose from the

fear of death; nor any doubt that he was justified in procuring the

infliction of that penalty to avert the slightest loss to himself. The

consequence was that, at the beginning of the present century, there

were above two hundred offences the perpetrators of which were liable to

capital punishment, some of a very trivial character, such as cutting

down a hop-vine in a Kentish hop-garden, robbing a rabbit-warren or a

fish-pond, personating an out-pensioner of Greenwich Hospital, or even

being found on a high-road with a blackened face, the intention to

commit a crime being inferred from the disguise, even though no overt

act had been committed. An act of Elizabeth made picking a pocket a

capital offence; another, passed as late as the reign of William III.,

affixed the same penalty to shop-lifting, even when the article stolen

might not exceed the value of five shillings. And the fault of these

enactments was not confined to their unreasonable cruelty; they were as

mischievous even to those whom they were designed to protect as they

were absurd, as some owners began to perceive. In the list of capital

offences was that of stealing linen from a bleaching-ground. And a large

body of bleachers presented a petition to Parliament entreating the

repeal of the statute which made it such on the ground that,

practically, it had been found not to strike terror into the thieves,

but almost to secure them impunity from the reluctance of juries to find

a verdict which would sentence a fellow-creature to the gallows for such

an offence.

Nor was this by any means the only instance in which the barbarity of

the law defeated its object. And its combined impolicy and inhumanity

had some years before attracted the notice of Sir Samuel Romilly, who

had been Solicitor-general in the administration of 1806, and who,

shortly after its dissolution, began to apply himself to the benevolent

object of procuring the repeal of many of the statutes in question, and

in the course of a few years did succeed in obtaining the substitution

of milder penalties for several of the less flagitious offences. He died

in 1818; but the work which he had began was continued by Sir James

Mackintosh, a man of even more conspicuous ability, and one who could

adduce his own experience in favor of the changes which he recommended

to the Parliament, since he had filled the office of Recorder of Bombay

for eight years, and had discharged his duties with a most diligent and

consistent avoidance of capital punishment, which he had never inflicted

except for murder; his lenity, previously unexampled in that land,

having been attended with a marked diminution of crime. He procured the

substitution of milder penalties in several additional cases; and at

last, in 1822, he carried a resolution engaging the House of Commons

"the next session to take into its serious consideration the means of

increasing the efficacy of the criminal law by abating its undue rigor."

And this success had the effect of inducing the new minister to take the

question into his own hands. Peel saw that it was one which, if it were

to be dealt with at all, ought to be regulated by the government itself,

and not be left to independent members, who could not settle it with

satisfactory completeness; and therefore, in 1823, he introduced a

series of bills to carry out the principle implied in Mackintosh's

resolution of the preceding year, not only simplifying the law, but

abolishing the infliction of capital punishment in above a hundred

cases. He was unable to carry out his principle as fully as he could

have desired. The prejudice in favor of still retaining death as a

punishment for forgery was too strong for even his resolution as yet to

overbear, though many private bankers supplied him with the same

arguments against it in their case which had formerly been alleged by

the bleachers. But the example which he now set, enforced as it was with

all the authority of the government, was followed in many subsequent

sessions, till at last our code, instead of the most severe, has become

the most humane in Europe, and death is now never inflicted except for

murder, or crimes intended or calculated to lead to murder. It is worth

remarking, however, that neither Romilly, Mackintosh, nor Peel ever

entertained the slightest doubt of the right of a government to inflict

capital punishment. In the last address which Mackintosh delivered to

the grand-jury at Bombay he had said: "I have no doubt of the right of

society to inflict the punishment of death on enormous crimes, wherever

an inferior punishment is not sufficient. I consider it as a mere

modification of the right of self-defence, which may as justly be

exercised in deterring from attack as in repelling it."[187] And in his

diary, when speaking of a death-warrant which he had just signed, he

says: "I never signed a paper with more perfect tranquillity of mind. I

felt agitation in pronouncing the sentence, but none in subscribing the

warrant; I had no scruple of conscience on either occasion."

And it seems that his position is unassailable. The party whose interest

is to be kept in view by the Legislature in imposing punishments on

offences is society, the people at large, not the offender. The main

object of punishment is to deter rather than to reform; to prevent

crime, not to take vengeance on the criminal. And, if crime be more

effectually prevented by moderate than by severe punishments, society

has a right to demand, for its own security (as a matter of policy, not

of justice), that the moderate punishment shall, on that ground, be

preferred. That punishments disproportioned in their severity to the

magnitude of the offence often defeated their object was certain. Not

only had jurymen been known to confess that they had preferred violating

their oaths to doing still greater violence to their consciences, by

sending a man to the gallows for a deed which, in their opinion, did not

deserve it, but the very persons who had been injured by thefts or

forgeries were often deterred from prosecution of the guilty by the

knowledge that the forfeiture of their lives must follow their

conviction. It was almost equally certain that criminals calculated

beforehand on the chance of impunity which the known prevalence of these

feelings afforded them. Wherever the sympathy of the public does not go

along with the law, it must, to a great extent, fail; and that the

terrible frequency of sanguinary punishment had failed in all its

objects, was proved by the fact that, in spite of the numerous

executions which took place, crimes increased in a still greater

proportion than the population. Under the reformed system, now first

inaugurated on an extensive scale, crimes have become rarer, detection

and punishment more certain--a combination of results which must be the

object equally of the law-giver and the philanthropist.

It is not quite foreign to this subject to relate that, a year or two

before, a mode of trial had been abolished which, though long disused,

by some curious oversight had still been allowed to remain on the

statute-book. In the feudal times either the prosecutor or the prisoner,

in cases of felony, had a right to claim that the cause should be

decided by "wager of battle;" but it was an ordeal which, with one

exception in the reign of George II., had not been mentioned for

centuries. In 1817, however, the relatives of a woman who had been

murdered, being dissatisfied with the acquittal of a man who had been

indicted as her murderer, sued out "an appeal of murder" against him, on

which he claimed to have the appeal decided by "wager of battle," and

threw down a glove on the floor of the court to make good his challenge.

The claim was protested against by the prosecutor; but Lord

Ellenborough, the Chief-justice, pronounced judgment that, "trial by

battle having been demanded, it was the legal and constitutional mode of

trial, and must be awarded. It was the duty of the judges to pronounce

the law as it was, and not as they might wish it to be."[188] He gave

sentence accordingly; and, had the two parties been of equal stature and

strength, the Judges of the Common Pleas might have been seen, in their

robes, presiding from sunrise till sunset over a combat to be fought, as

the law prescribed, with stout staves and leathern shields, till one

should cry "Craven," and yield up the field. Fortunately for them, the

alleged murderer was so superior in bodily strength to his adversary,

that the latter declined the contest. But the public advancement of the

claim for such a mode of decision was fatal to any subsequent exercise

of it; and, in spite of the Common Council of London, who, confiding,

perhaps, in the formidable appearance presented by some of the City

Champions on Lord Mayor's Day, petitioned Parliament to preserve it, the

next year the Attorney-general brought in a bill to abolish it, and the

judges were no longer compelled to pronounce an absurd sentence in

obedience to an obsolete law, framed at a time when personal prowess was

a virtue to cover a multitude of sins, and might was the only right

generally acknowledged.

The foundation, too, was laid for other reforms. Lord Liverpool was more

thoroughly versed than any of his predecessors, except Pitt, in the

soundest principles of political economy; and in one of the first

speeches which he made in the new reign he expressed a decided

condemnation, not only of any regulations which were designed to favor

one trade or one interest at the expense of another, but generally of

the whole system and theory of protection; and one of his last measures

made an alteration in the manner of taxing corn imported from foreign

countries, which was greatly to the advantage of the consumer. It was

known as the "sliding-scale," the tax on imported corn varying with the

price in the market, rising when the price fell, and falling when it

rose; the design with which it was framed being to keep the price to the

consumer at all times as nearly equal as possible. At first, however, it

was vehemently denounced by the bulk of the agriculturists, who were

re-enforced on this occasion by a large party from among the Whigs, and

especially by some of those connected with Ireland. But a more suitable

period for discussing the establishment of Free-trade as the ruling

principle of our financial policy will occur hereafter.

The introduction of the sliding-scale was almost the last act of Lord

Liverpool's ministry. At the beginning of 1827 he was preparing a fresh

measure on the same subject, the effect of which was intended to

diminish still farther the protection which the former act had given,

and which was in consequence denounced by many landholders of great

wealth and influence, led, on this subject, by the King's favorite

brother, the Duke of York.[189] But, a few days after the meeting of

Parliament, he was struck down by an attack of paralysis, from which he

never recovered.

In his post as Prime-minister he was succeeded by Canning, not without

great reluctance on the part of the King; not, probably, so much because

he feared to find in him any desire to depart from the policy of Lord

Liverpool, except on the Catholic question (for even on matters of

foreign policy, on which Canning had always been supposed most to fix

his attention, he had adopted the line which Lord Liverpool had laid

down for the cabinet with evident sincerity),[190] as because his

Majesty had never wholly forgiven him for the attitude which he had

taken, differing on one or two points from that of his colleagues on the

Queen's case. And, as has been mentioned in a former chapter, he even,

with the object of evading the necessity of appointing him, suggested to

the Duke of Wellington the singular scheme of allowing the remaining

members of Lord Liverpool's cabinet to select their own chief,[191]

which the Duke, though coinciding with him in his dislike of Canning, of

whom he entertained a very causeless suspicion, rejected without

hesitation, as an abandonment of the royal prerogative in one of its

most essential duties or privileges. Another of his Majesty's notions,

if it had been carried out, would have been one of the strangest

violations of constitutional principle and practice which it is possible

to conceive. The Duke of York, who had for many years been

Commander-in-chief, died in January of the same year, and on his death

the King actually proposed to take that office on himself. For the

moment Lord Liverpool was able to induce him to abandon the idea, and to

confer the post on the Duke of Wellington. But it had taken such

possession of his mind that he recurred to it again when, on Canning

becoming Prime-minister, the Duke resigned the office; and he pressed it

on the Cabinet with singular pertinacity till, on Canning's death, the

Duke was prevailed on to resume the command. It is evident that no

arrangement could possibly be more inconsistent with every principle of

the constitution. The very foundation of parliamentary government is,

that every officer of every department is responsible to Parliament for

the proper discharge of his duties. But the investiture of the sovereign

with ministerial office of any kind must involve either the entire

withdrawal of that department from parliamentary control, or the

exposure of the sovereign to constant criticism, which, however

essential to the efficiency of the department, and consequently to the

public service, would be wholly inconsistent with the respect due to the

crown. The first alternative it is certain that no Parliament would

endure for a moment; the second, by impairing the dignity of the

monarch, could scarcely fail in some degree to threaten the stability of

the monarchy itself.

Canning's ministry was too brief to give time for any transaction of

internal importance. That of Lord Goderich, who succeeded him, though

longer by the almanac, was practically briefer still, since it never met

Parliament at all, but was formed and fell to pieces between the

prorogation and the next meeting of the Houses. But that which followed,

under the presidency of the Duke of Wellington, though after a few

months its composition became entirely Tory, is memorable for the first

great departure from those maxims of the constitution which had been

reckoned among its most essential principles ever since the Revolution.

Of the measures which bear that character, one was carried against the

resistance of the ministry, the other by the ministers themselves. And

it may at first sight appear singular that the larger measure of the two

was proposed by the Duke after those members of his cabinet who had

originally been supposed to give it something of a Liberal complexion

had quitted it. The Reform Bill of 1832--to which we shall come in the

next chapter--has been often called a peaceful revolution. The

Toleration Acts, as we may call the bills of 1828 and 1829, are scarcely

less deserving of that character.

The constitution, as it had existed for the last hundred and forty

years, had been not only a Protestant but a Church of England

constitution. Not only all Roman Catholics, but all members of

Protestant Non-conforming sects, all who refused to sign a declaration

against the doctrine of Transubstantiation, and also to take the

Sacrament according to the rites of the one Established Church, were

disqualified for any appointment of trust. That the object with which

the Test Act had been framed and supported was rather political than

religious is notorious; indeed, it was supported by the Protestant

Dissenters, though they themselves were to suffer by its operation, so

greatly at that time did the dread of Popery and the French King

overpower every other consideration.[192] On the Roman Catholics, after

the reign of James II. had increased that apprehension, the restrictions

were tightened. But those which inflicted disabilities on the Protestant

Non-conformists had been gradually relaxed. The repeal of two, the Five

Mile and the Conventicle Acts, had, as we have seen in the last chapter,

been recent measures of Lord Liverpool. But the Test Act still remained,

though it had long been practically a dead letter. The Union with

Scotland, where the majority of the population was Presbyterian, had

rendered it almost impossible to maintain the exclusion of Englishmen

resembling the Scotch in their religious tenets from preferments, and

even from seats in the House of Commons, to which Scotchmen were

admissible. And though one Prime-minister (Stanhope) failed in his

attempt to induce Parliament to repeal the Test Act, and his successor

(Walpole) refused his countenance to any repetition of the proposal,

even he did not reject such a compromise as was devised to evade it; and

in the first year of George II.'s reign (by which time it was notorious

that many Protestant Non-conformists had obtained seats in municipal

corporations, and even in the House of Commons, who yet had never

qualified themselves by compliance with the act of 1673) a bill of

indemnity was introduced by the minister, with at least the tacit

consent of the English bishops, to protect all such persons from the

penalties which they had incurred. And the bill, which was only annual

in its operation, was renewed almost every year, till, in respect of all

such places or dignities (if a seat in the House of Commons can be

described by either of those names), no one thought of inquiring whether

a man, so long as he were a Protestant, adhered to the Established

Church or not; members of the House of Commons even openly avowing their

nonconformity, and at times founding arguments on the fact.

The practical nullification of the Test Act by these periodical bills of

indemnity had been for some time used by two opposite parties--both that

which regarded the maintenance of the exclusive connection of the

constitution with the Church of England as of vital importance to both

Church and constitution, and that which was opposed to all restrictions

or disqualiflcations on religious grounds--as an argument in their

favor. The one contended that there could be no sufficient reason for

repealing a law from which no one suffered; the other, that it was a

needless provocation of ill-feeling to retain a law which no one ever

dreamed of enforcing. Hitherto the latter had been the weaker party. One

or two motions for the repeal of the Test Act, which had been made in

former years,[193] had been defeated without attracting any great

notice; but in the spring of 1828 Lord John Russel, then a

comparatively young member, but rapidly rising into influence with his

party, carried a motion in the House of Commons for leave to bring in a

bill to repeal the act, so far as it concerned the Protestant

Non-conformists, by a very decisive majority,[194] in spite of all the

efforts of Peel and his colleagues.

The ministry was placed in a difficult position by his success, since

the usual practice for a cabinet defeated on a question of principle was

to resign; and it is probable that they would not have departed from

that rule now, had not this defeat occurred so early in their official

life. But on this occasion it seemed to them that other questions had to

be considered besides the constitutional doctrine of submission on the

part of a ministry to the judgment of the Parliament.[195] Theirs was

now the fourth administration that had held office within twelve months;

and their resignation, which would compel the construction of a fifth,

could hardly fail not only to embarrass the sovereign, but to shake

public confidence in government generally. It was also certain that they

could rely on a division in the House of Lords being favorable to them,

if they chose to appeal from one House to the other. Under these

circumstances, they had to consider what their line of conduct should

be, and there never were two ministers better suited to deal with an

embarrassment of that kind than the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel. The

Duke's doctrine of government was that "the country was never governed

in practice according to the extreme principles of any party

whatever;"[196] while Peel's disposition at all times inclined him to

compromise. He was quite aware that on this and similar questions public

feeling had undergone great alteration since the beginning of the

century. There was a large and increasing party, numbering in its ranks

many men of deep religious feeling, and many firm supporters of the

principle of an Established Church, being also sincere believers in the

pre-eminent excellence of the Church of England, who had a conscientious

repugnance to the employment of the most solemn ordinance of a religion

as a mere political test of a person's qualifications for the discharge

of civil duties. In the opinion of the Bishop of Oxford (Dr. Lloyd),

this was the feeling of "a very large majority of the Church itself,"

and of the University.[197] Peel, therefore, came to the conclusion--to

which he had no difficulty in bringing his colleague, the

Prime-minister--that "it might be more for the real interests of the

Church and of religion to consent to an alteration in the law" than to

trust to the result of the debate in the House of Lords to maintain the

existing state of things. Accordingly, after several conferences with

the most influential members of the Episcopal Bench, he framed a

declaration to be substituted for the Sacramental test, binding all who

should be required to subscribe it--a description which included all who

should be appointed to a civil or corporate office--never to exert any

power or influence which they might thus acquire to subvert, or to

endeavor to subvert, the Protestant Church of England, Scotland, or

Ireland, as by law established. The declaration was amended in the House

of Lords by the addition of the statement, that this declaration was

subscribed "on the true faith of a Christian," introduced at the

instigation of Lord Eldon, who had not held the Great Seal since the

dissolution of Lord Liverpool's administration, but who was still looked

up to by a numerous party as the foremost champion of sound

Protestantism in either House.

Not that the addition of these words at all diminished the

dissatisfaction with which the great lawyer regarded the bill. On the

contrary, he believed it to be not only a weapon wilfully put into the

hands of the enemies of the Established Church, but a violation of the

constitution, of which, as he regarded it "the existing securities were

a part." He pointed out that "the King himself was obliged to take the

sacrament at his coronation;" and he argued from this and other grounds

that "the Church of England, combined with the state, formed together

the constitution of Great Britain; and that the acts now to be repealed

were necessary to the preservation of that constitution."

With every respect for that great lawyer, his argument on this point

does not appear sustainable. For the bill in question did not sweep away

securities for the Established Church, but merely substituted, for one

which long disuse and indemnity had rendered wholly inoperative, a fresh

security, which, as it would be steadily put in force, might fairly be

expected to prove far more efficacious. And it can hardly be contended

that it was not within the province of the Legislature to modify an

existing law in this spirit and with this object, however important

might be the purpose for which that law had originally been framed. Nay,

it might fairly be argued that the more important that object was, the

more were they who strengthened the means of attaining that object

entitled to be regarded as faithful servants and supporters of the

principle of the constitution.

The measure, however, relieved the Protestant Dissenters alone. Not only

did Lord Eldon's amendment preserve the Christian character of the

Legislature, but the requirement to sign the declaration against

Transubstantiation, which was unrepealed, left the Roman Catholics still

under the same disqualifications as before. But the days of those

disqualifications were manifestly numbered. Indeed, many of those who

had followed the ministers in their original resistance to the repeal of

the Test Act had been avowedly influenced by the conviction that it

could not fail to draw after it the removal of the disabilities

affecting the Roman Catholics. As has been said before, the disabilities

in question had originally been imposed on the Roman Catholics on

political rather than on religious grounds. And the political reasons

for them had been greatly weakened, if not wholly swept away, by the

extinction of the Stuart line of princes. Their retention or removal

had, therefore, now become almost wholly a religious question; and the

late bill had clearly established as a principle that, though the state

had a right to require of members of other religious sects that they

should not abuse the power which might arise from any positions or

employments to which they might be admitted, to the subversion or injury

of the Established Church of England, yet, when security for their

innocuousness in this respect was provided, it was not justified in

inquiring into the details of their faith. And if this were to be the

rule of government for the future, the conclusion was irresistible that

a similar security was all that the state was justified in demanding

from Roman Catholics, and that it could have no warrant for

investigating their opinion on Transubstantiation, or any other purely

theological tenet. There could be no doubt that the feelings of the

public had been gradually and steadily coming round to this view of the

question. The last House of Commons had not only passed a bill to remove

Roman Catholic disabilities (which was afterward thrown out in the House

of Lords), but had also passed, by a still larger majority, a

resolution, moved by Lord Francis Leveson Gower (who was now the

Secretary for Ireland), in favor of endowing the Roman Catholic priests

in Ireland. And at the late general election the opinions of the

candidates on what was commonly called Catholic Emancipation had been

the great cardinal question with a great number, probably a majority, of

the constituencies.

It may be remarked that it was not the Test Act which excluded Roman

Catholics from Parliament, but a bill which, fifteen years later, had

been passed (probably under the influence of Lord Shaftesbury) at the

time when the whole kingdom was excited by the daily expanding

revelations of the Popish Plot.[198] And this bill had a loop-hole which

was never discovered till now but the discovery of which totally changed

the whole aspect of the question. Even before the bill repealing the

Test Act had passed through all its stages, Sir Francis Burdett had

again induced the House of Commons to pass a resolution condemning the

continuance of the Roman Catholic disabilities; to which, however, the

peers, by a far larger majority, refused their concurrence.[199] But,

within a month of this division, the aspect of the whole question was

changed by the shrewdness of an Irish barrister, who had discovered the

loop-hole or flaw in the bill of 1678 already alluded to, and by the

energy and promptitude with which he availed himself of his discovery.

Mr. O'Connell had a professional reputation scarcely surpassed by any

member of the Irish Bar. He was also a man of ancient family in the

county of Kerry. And, being a Roman Catholic, he had for several years

been the spokesman of his brother Roman Catholics on most public

occasions. He now, on examination of the bill of 1678, perceived that,

though it forbade any Roman Catholic from taking a seat in either House

of Parliament, it contained no prohibition to prevent any constituency

from electing him its representative. And when, on the occasion of some

changes which were made in the cabinet, the representation of the County

Clare was vacated by its member, Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald, accepting the

office of President of the Board of Trade, O'Connell instantly offered

himself as a candidate in opposition to the new minister, who, of

course, sought re-election.

Mr. Fitzgerald was a man who had always supported the demands of the

Roman Catholics; he was also personally popular, and had the undivided

support of nearly all the gentlemen and principal land-owners of the

county, in which he himself had large property. But O'Connell's cause

was taken up by the entire Roman Catholic priesthood; addresses in his

favor were read at the altars of the different churches; and, after five

days' polling, Mr. Fitzgerald withdrew from the contest. The Sheriff, in

great perplexity, made a special return, reporting that "Mr. Fitzgerald

was proposed, being a Protestant, as a fit person to represent the

county in Parliament; that Mr. O'Connell, a Roman Catholic, was also

proposed; that he, Mr. O'Connell, had declared before the Sheriff that

he was a Roman Catholic, and intended to continue a Roman Catholic; and

that a protest had been made by several electors against his return."

It was accepted as a return of O'Connell, who, however, made no attempt

to take his seat, though when he first stood he had assured the electors

that there was no law to prevent him from doing so; but the importance

of his success was not to be measured by his actual presence or absence

in the House of Commons for the remainder of a session. It had made it

absolutely impossible to continue the maintenance of the disabilities;

what one Irish constituency had done, other Irish constituencies might

be depended on to do.[200] And it was quite certain that, as opportunity

offered, almost every constituency in Munster and Connaught, and many in

Leinster, would follow the example of Clare, and return Roman Catholic

representatives; while to retain a law which prevented forty or fifty

men duly elected by Irish constituencies from taking their seats must

have appeared impossible to all but a few, whom respect for the

undoubted sincerity of their attachment to their own religion and to the

constitution, as they understood it, is the only consideration which can

save them from being regarded as dangerous fanatics. At all events, the

ministers were not among them. And the Duke of Wellington, though he had

previously hoped, by postponing the farther consideration of the

question for a year or two, to gain time for a calmer examination of it

when the existing excitement had cooled down,[201] at once admitted the

conviction that the result of the Clare election had rendered farther

delay impossible. In his view, and that of those of his colleagues whose

judgment he estimated most highly, the Irish constituencies and their

probable action at future elections were not the only parties whose

opinions or feelings must be regarded by a responsible statesman; but to

them must be added the constituencies of the larger island also, since,

while, to quote the language of Mr. Peel, "the general election of 1826

had taken place under circumstances especially calculated to call forth

the manifestation of Protestant feeling throughout the country," they

had returned a majority of members in favor of concession, as was proved

by the recent division on Sir F. Burdett's motion. Moreover, apart from

the merits or demerits of concession, taken by itself, there was a

manifest danger that the keeping up of the excitement on the subject by

a continued adherence to the policy of restriction might, especially

among such a people as the Irish, so impulsive, and, in the lower

classes, so absolutely under the dominion of the priests, kindle an

excitement on other subjects also, still more difficult to deal with. It

was even already certain that the Roman Catholic priests were

endeavoring to tamper with the loyalty of the soldiers of their

persuasion. Nor was it clerical influence alone that the government had

to dread. A year or two before a Catholic Association had been formed,

which included among its members all the wealthiest and ablest of the

Roman Catholic laymen, noblemen, squires, and barristers. Its

organization had been so skilfully conducted, and all its measures had

been so carefully kept within the requirements of the law, that the

crown lawyers, on being consulted, pronounced it impossible to interfere

with it; and, by what may be called a peaceful agitation, it had

attained such extraordinary power over the minds of the bulk of the

Roman Catholics, that the Lord-lieutenant reported that "he was quite

certain that they could lead on the people to open rebellion at a

moment's notice, and that their organization was such that, in the hands

of desperate and intelligent leaders, they would be extremely

formidable[202]."

Under all these circumstances, the Duke had no hesitation in deciding

that it had become absolutely necessary to concede the demands of the

Roman Catholics and their supporters for a removal of their political

disabilities. And it was equally obvious that, the more promptly the

concession was made, the more gracious it would seem, and the greater

was the probability of its having the conciliatory and tranquillizing

effect the hope of which made it so desirable. He was not a man to lose

time when he had once made up his mind. It was already too late in the

session for anything to be done in 1828; but the Parliament had scarcely

been prorogued before he put his views on the subject before the King,

and began, in concert with the Home-secretary, to frame a bill such as

he hoped might settle the long-agitated question, without doing more

violence than was necessary to the feelings of those whose opposition or

reluctance he was aware he should have to encounter: among whom was the

King himself, who, though thirty years before he had, with an

ostentation rather unbecoming, considering his position, put himself

forward as an advocate of Emancipation, had subsequently changed his

opinion, and had recently taken more than one occasion to declare that

he had never doubted that, as the head and protector of the Protestant

religion, he was bound to refuse his assent to any relaxation of the

existing law.[203] The Duke, however, was too well acquainted with his

royal master's character to apprehend any real firmness of resistance

from him; but he knew that a great majority of the clergy, and no small

portion of the country gentlemen, were conscientiously and immovably

fixed in opposition to any concession at all, some refusing to regard

the question in any but a purely religious light, and objecting to

associate in the task of legislation for those whom they regarded as

adherents of an idolatrous superstition; while those who mingled

political reasoning with that founded on theology dwelt also on the

danger to be apprehended to the state, if political power were given to

those whose allegiance to the King was divided with another allegiance

which they acknowledged to a foreign prelate. And he had presently an

unmistakable proof afforded him how great was the strength of this party

in the country. Peel was one of the representatives of the University of

Oxford; and, as from his earliest enjoyment of a seat in Parliament he

had been a prominent opponent of the Roman Catholic claims, he

considered that it was to that maintenance of a policy identified in

their eyes with that Protestant ascendency which his supporters took to

be both the chief bulwark and one of the most essential parts of the

constitution that he owed his position as their member. With a

conscientiousness which was rather overstrained, and not quite

consistent with the legitimate position of a member of the House of

Commons as a representative, and not a delegate, he now conceived that

his change of view on the subject made it proper for him to give his

constituents an opportunity of making choice of some one else who should

more faithfully represent them. He accordingly resigned his seat,

offering himself at the same time for re-election. But he was defeated

by a very large majority, though his competitor was one who could not

possibly be put on a level with him either for university distinction or

for parliamentary eminence.

Not the less, however, for all their difficulties and discouragements,

did the ministers proceed in the course on which they had resolved. They

inserted in the speech with which the King opened the session of 1829 a

recommendation to the Houses "to take into consideration the whole

condition of Ireland, and to review the laws which imposed civil

disabilities on his Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects." And with as

little delay as possible they introduced a bill to remove those

disabilities. But there was another measure which they felt it to be

indispensable should precede it. A previous sentence of the royal speech

had described the Catholic Association as one "dangerous to the public

peace, and inconsistent with the spirit of the constitution, keeping

alive discord and ill-will among his Majesty's subjects, and one which

must, if permitted to continue, effectually obstruct every effort

permanently to improve the condition of Ireland." And the ministers

naturally regarded it as their first duty to suppress a body which could

deserve to be so described. They felt, too, that the large measure of

concession and conciliation which they were about to announce would lose

half its grace, and more than half its effect, if it could possibly be

represented as a submission to an agitation and intimidation which they

had not the power nor the courage to resist. They determined, therefore,

to render such an imputation impossible, by previously suppressing the

Association. It was evident that it could not be extinguished by any

means short of an act of Parliament. And the course pursued, with the

discussions which took place respecting it, show in a very clear and

instructive manner the view taken by statesmen of the difference between

what is loyal or illegal, constitutional or unconstitutional; their

apprehension that conduct may be entirely legal, that is to say, within

the letter of the law, but at the same time perfectly unconstitutional,

outside of and adverse to the whole spirit of the constitution. The

royal speech had not ventured to describe the Association as illegal.

The Duke of Wellington expressly admitted that "in the original

institution and formation of the society there was nothing strictly

illegal."[204] And its founder and chief, Mr. O'Connell, had been at all

times careful to inculcate on his followers the necessity of avoiding

any violation of the law. But the speech had also declared the

association to be "inconsistent with the spirit of the constitution."

And its acts, as the Duke proceeded to describe them, certainly bore out

that declaration. "Those acts consisted principally in levying a tax

upon certain of his Majesty's subjects called Catholic rent, and this by

means and acts of extreme violence; by appointing persons to collect

these rents; and farther by adopting measures to organize the Catholic

population; by appointing persons to superintend that organization; and

by assuming to themselves the government of the country; and, still

more, affecting to assume it. Besides, they expended this rent in a

manner contrary to, and utterly inconsistent with, all law and order and

the constitution of the country." No member of either House denied the

accuracy of this description of the Association's proceedings. And if it

were correct, it was incontrovertible that the denunciation of it as an

utterly unconstitutional body was not too strong. Indeed, the fact of

its "levying a tax" upon a portion of the King's subjects (to say

nothing of the intimidation, amounting to compulsion, by which, as was

notorious, it was in many instances exacted) was the assumption of one

of the most important functions of the Imperial Parliament; it was the

erection of an _imperium in imperio_, which no statesmen intrusted with

the government of a country can be justified in tolerating. And this was

felt by the Opposition as well as by the ministers; by the Whigs as

fully as by the Tories. The most eloquent of the Whig party, Mr.

Stanley, was as decided as Mr. Peel himself in affirming that the

existence of the Association was "inconsistent with the spirit of the

constitution," and that it was "dangerous that the people of a country

should look up to any public body distinct from the government, opposed

to the government, and monopolizing their attachment and

obedience."[205]

It was, therefore, with the almost unanimous approval of both parties

that the bill framed for the suppression of the Association was

received. The framing of such a bill was not unattended by difficulties,

as Peel acknowledged,[206] since "no one wished to declare that every

political meeting was illegal;" while at the same time it was necessary

to guard against "having its enactments evaded, since a more dangerous

precedent than the successful evasion of acts of the Legislature could

scarcely be conceived." But the measure, as it was proposed, skilfully

steered clear of these difficulties. It met them by intrusting "the

enforcement of the law to be enacted to one person alone." The bill

proposed "to give to the Lord-lieutenant, and to him alone, the power of

suppressing any association or meeting which he might think dangerous to

the public peace, or inconsistent with the due administration of the

law; together with power to interdict the assembly of any meeting of

which previous notice should have been given, and which he should think

likely to endanger the public peace, or to prove inconsistent with the

due administration of the law." And farther, "to interdict any meeting

or association which might be interdicted from assembling, or which

might be suppressed under this act, from receiving and placing at their

control any moneys by the name of rent, or any other name." But the act

was not to be one of perpetual duration. It could not be concealed that

such a prohibition or limitation of the general right of public meeting

and public discussion was a suspension of a part of the constitution;

and therefore the ministers were content to limit its operation "to one

year and the end of the then next session of Parliament," feeling

"satisfied that there would be no objection to continue it, if there

should be any necessity for its continuance." And this limitation was a

substantial mitigation of its severity. It made the bill, as Mr. Stanley

correctly described it, "not a permanent infringement on the

constitution, but a temporary deviation from it, giving those powers

which were necessary at the moment," but not maintaining them an hour

longer than they were necessary.

And this seems to be the course most in accordance with the spirit of

the constitution, with former practice, with common-sense. Deeds which

violate the letter of the law can be dealt with by the law. But actions

or courses of action which, even if they may be thought to overstep the

law, transgress it so narrowly as to elude conviction, can only be

reached by enactments which also go in some degree beyond the ordinary

law; and, so going beyond it, are to that extent encroachments on the

ordinary privileges and rights of the subject, and suspensions of the

constitution. But the very term "suspension" shows that the power

conferred is but temporary, otherwise it would be synonymous with

abrogation. And all parties may wisely agree, as they did in this

instance, to a temporary suspension of the people's rights, though there

would be none to whom their permanent abrogation would not be

intolerable.

The bill, then, for the suppression of the Association passed with

universal approval, and it may be regarded as furnishing a model for

dealing with similar associations, if ever they should arise. And as

soon as it was passed Mr. Peel introduced the greater measure, that for

the repeal of the disabilities. In drawing the necessary bill the

ministers had had two questions of special importance to consider:

firstly, whether it should be unlimited concession which should be

granted, such as would throw open to the Roman Catholics every kind of

civil office; and, secondly, whether it should be accompanied by any

other measure, which might render it more palatable to its adversaries,

as diminishing a portion at least of the dangers which those who

regarded the question in a purely political light most apprehended. On

the first point it was determined that, with the exception of three

civil offices, those of the Lord Chancellors of England and Ireland and

the Lord-lieutenant of Ireland,[207] and some of a purely ecclesiastical

character, such as the Judge of the Court of Arches, every kind of

preferment should be opened to the Roman Catholics.[208] The declaration

against Transubstantiation and the oath of supremacy, certain

expressions in which were the obstacles which had hitherto kept the

Roman Catholics out of office and out of Parliament, were to be

repealed, and another to be substituted for them which should merely

bind him who took it to defend the King, to maintain the Protestant

succession, and to declare that "it was not an article of his faith, and

that he renounced, rejected, and abjured the opinion, that princes

excommunicated or deposed by the Pope might be deposed and murdered; and

that he disclaimed, disavowed, and solemnly abjured any intention to

subvert the present Church Establishment as settled by law within this

realm, and that he would never exercise any privilege to which he was or

might become entitled to disturb or weaken the Protestant religion or

Protestant government in this kingdom."[209]

The second question was, it will probably be confessed, even more

important. Pitt, who had always contemplated, and had encouraged the

Irish Roman Catholics to contemplate, the abolition of their political

disabilities as an indispensable appendage to, or, it may be said, part

of the Union, had designed, farther, not to confine his benefits to the

laymen, but to endow the Roman Catholic clergy with adequate stipends, a

proposal which was received with the greatest thankfulness, not only by

the Irish prelates and clergy themselves, but also by the heads of their

Church at Rome, who were willing, in return, to give the crown a veto on

all the ecclesiastical appointments of their Church in the two

islands.[210] The justice of granting such an endowment could hardly be

contested. The Reformation in Ireland, if what had taken place there

could be called a reformation at all, had been wholly different from the

movement which had almost extinguished Popery in England. The great

majority of the Irish people had never ceased to adhere to the Romish

forms, and the Reformation there had been simply a transfer of the

property of the Romish Church to the Church of England, unaccompanied by

any corresponding change of belief in the people, who had an undeniable

right to claim that the state, while making this transfer, should not

deprive of all provision the clergy to whose ministrations they still

clung with a zeal and steadiness augmented rather than diminished by the

discouragements under which they adhered to them.

The policy of granting such endowment was equally conspicuous. No

measure could so bind the clergy to the government; and no such security

for the loyalty and peaceful, orderly behavior of the poorer classes

could be provided, as might be expected from the attachment to the

government of those who had over them an influence so powerful in its

character and so unbounded in its strength as their priests. And the

Duke of Wellington, who had at one time been himself the Irish

Secretary, and, as an intimate friend of Lord Castlereagh, who held that

office at the time of the Union, had a perfect knowledge of what had

been intended at that time--and who was, of course, aware of the very

decided favor which the House of Commons had so lately shown to the

project--proposed to follow out Pitt's plan in that particular, and to

connect a provision[211] for the Roman Catholic clergy with the removal

of their political disabilities from the laymen. Unluckily, Peel, who,

throughout the whole transaction, was, of all the cabinet, the

counsellor on whose judgment he most relied, took a different view of

the expediency of making such a provision, having, indeed, "no objection

to it in point of principle." But he saw many practical difficulties,

which he pressed on the Duke with great earnestness. He argued that for

the government "to apply a sum of money to the payment of the ministers

of the Church of Rome in Ireland, granting a license for the performance

of their spiritual functions, would be a virtual and complete

supersession, if not repeal, of the laws which prohibit intercourse with

Rome;" and asked, "Could the state affect to be ignorant that the bishop

whom it paid derived his right to be a bishop from the See of Rome?"

Another difficulty he found in the apprehension that "the admission of

the right of the Roman Catholic clergy to an endowment might produce

similar claims on the part of the Dissenters in England, who contribute

in like manner to the support of their own religion and of the

established religion also." He suggested, farther, that, if the Roman

Catholic priest were allowed, in addition to his stipend, "to receive

dues, Easter offerings, etc., from his parishioners, his condition would

then be better than that of the ministers of the Established Church in

many of the parishes in Ireland." And, finally, he urged the practical

objection, that the endowment would greatly strengthen the opposition to

the whole measure, by the reluctance which, "on purely religious

grounds," many would feel to the endowment of the Roman Catholic faith,

who would yet be inclined to acquiesce in the removal of the

disabilities, "on grounds rather political than religious." He was "not

insensible to the importance of establishing some bond of connection

between the Roman Catholic clergy and the state;" but he believed that

the omission of a provision for their endowment "was important to the

ultimate success of the government in proposing the measure before

them."

It is not probable that the Duke was greatly influenced by the first, or

what may be called the constitutional, objection--that any concert with

the Papal Court with respect to the appointments or endowments of its

clergy would be a violation of the act which prohibited any intercourse

with Rome. The removal of the disabilities required the repeal of one

act of Parliament; and, if the holding communications with Rome on the

subject of clerical appointments should be so construed as to require

the repeal of another, it would hardly seem that there could be any

greater violation of or departure from the principles of the

constitution in repealing two acts than in repealing one. As to the

second of Peel's objections, the English Dissenters could not possibly

be said to stand on the same ground as the Irish Roman Catholics, since

their ministers had certainly never been deprived by any act of the

state of any provision which they had previously enjoyed; but their

position as unendowed ministers was clearly one of their own making. The

possible inferiority in point of emolument of some of the Protestant

cures in Ireland to that which might be enjoyed by some of the Roman

Catholic clergy could hardly be regarded as the foundation of any

argument at all, since no law had ever undertaken, or ever could

undertake, to give at all times and under all circumstances equal

remuneration to equal labors. But the consideration last suggested was

exactly the one to influence such a mind as that of the Duke of

Wellington, generally contented to deal with a present difficulty. He

was determined to carry Emancipation, because he saw that the Clare

election had made it impossible to withhold or even to delay it; and,

being so determined, he was desirous to avoid encumbering it with any

addition which might increase the opposition to it. At the same time he

was far from being sanguine of its effect, "with whatever guards or

securities it might be accompanied, to pacify the country or to avert

rebellion,"[212] which, in his apprehension, was undoubtedly impending;

and, under the influence of these combined feelings, he eventually

withdrew that clause from the bill. It was accompanied by another bill,

disfranchising the forty-shilling freeholders in Ireland. They were a

class of voters sunk in the deepest poverty, and such as certainly could

not well be supposed capable of forming, much less of exercising, an

independent judgment on political matters. Yet this bill is remarkable

as having been the only enactment passed since the Revolution to narrow

the franchise. It had no opposition to anticipate from English or Scotch

members, and was accepted by the Irish members as the price of

Emancipation.

No measure that had ever been framed since the Revolution had caused

such excitement in the country; but the preponderance of feeling in its

favor was equally marked in both Houses of Parliament. In the House of

Commons 320 supported it, while only 142 could be marshalled against it.

In the House of Lords 213 divided for it against 109. And in April it

received the royal assent.

The general policy of removing the disabilities it is not necessary to

discuss here. It is quite clear that the Clare election had rendered it

impossible to maintain them. And if some of those who judge of measures

solely by their effects still denounce this act, as one which has failed

in its object of tranquillizing Ireland, many of those who admit the

failure ascribe it to the omission to accompany it by one securing a

state endowment for the Roman Catholic clergy, pronouncing it, without

that appendage, a half measure, such as rarely succeeds, and never

deserves success. However that may be, it is certain that the measure,

coupled with the repeal of the Test Act of the previous year, was one

which made a great and permanent change in the practical working of the

constitution of the kingdom, as it had been interpreted for the last one

hundred and fifty years. Of that constitution one of the leading

features, ever since the Restoration, had been understood to be the

establishment and maintenance of the political as well as the

ecclesiastical ascendency of the Church of England. On that ascendency

the repeal of the Test Act in 1828 had made the first, and that a great,

inroad, and the present statute entirely abolished it as a principle of

government. So far as political privileges went, every Christian sect

was now placed on a footing of complete equality. But so to place them

may fairly be regarded as having been required not only by justice and

expediency, but by reasons drawn from the history of the nation and from

the circumstances under which these disabilities had been imposed.

Before the Rebellion no one was excluded from the English Parliament on

account of his religion, whether he was a Roman Catholic, a

Presbyterian, or a member of any other of the various sects which were

gradually arising in the country. It was not till after the Restoration

that a recollection of the crimes of the Puritans, when they had got the

upper-hand, and the fear of machinations and intrigues, incompatible

with the freedom and independence of the people, which were imputed to

the Roman Catholics, gave birth to the statutes depriving both

Protestant and Roman Catholic Non-conformists of all legislative and

political power. The restrictions thus imposed on the Presbyterians and

other Protestant sects had, as we have seen, been gradually relaxed by a

periodical act of indemnity. Indeed, after the Union with Scotland, it

was impossible with any show of consistency to maintain them, since, as

it has been already pointed out, after Presbyterianism had been

recognized as the established religion of Scotland, it would have seemed

strangely unreasonable to regard it as a disqualification on the

southern side of the Border. But, as long as the Stuart princes were

from time to time disquieting the government by their open invasions or

secret intrigues, no such relaxation could with safety be granted to the

Roman Catholics, since it could hardly be expected that they would

forbear to employ any power which they might acquire for the service of

a prince of their own religion. That danger, however, which ever since

1745 had been a very shadowy one, had wholly passed away with the life

of the last Stuart lay prince, Charles Edward; and his death left the

rulers of the kingdom and advisers of the sovereign free to take a

different and larger view of their duty to the nation as a whole.

It was notorious that the number of Non-conformists was large. In the

middle of the last century it had received a considerable accession

through the institution of the new sect of Wesleyan Methodists; which,

through the supineness of the clergy of the Established Church in that

generation, had gradually increased, till it was estimated that the

various Dissenting sects in England equalled at least half the number of

the members of the Established Church. In Wales they were believed to

form the majority. In Scotland three-fourths of the people were

Presbyterians; and in Ireland the Roman Catholics outnumbered the

Protestants in nearly the same proportion. Taking England, Wales,

Scotland, and Ireland together, a calculation which reckoned the

different sects of Protestant and Roman Catholic Non-conformists united

at half the entire population would probably not have erred very widely

from the truth.

It must have been the aim of every statesman deserving of the name to

weld these different religious parties into one harmonious whole, as far

as their civil position went. And measures which had that tendency could

not be foreign to the constitution, properly understood. A constitution

which confines its benefits to one-half of a nation hardly merits the

title of a constitution at all. For every constitution ought to extend

its protection and its privileges equally to every portion of the

people, unless there be some peculiarity in the principles or habits of

any one portion which makes its participation in them dangerous to the

rest. It had undoubtedly been the doctrine of Pitt, and of the greater

part of those who since his time had held the reins of government, that

if any portion of the King's subjects did cherish a temper dangerous to

the rest, it was because they were debarred from privileges to which

they conceived themselves to have a just right, and that their

discontent and turbulence were the fruit of the restrictions imposed on

them. In proposing to remove such a grievance Pitt certainly conceived

himself to be acting in accordance with the strictest principles of the

constitution, and not so much innovating upon it as restoring it to its

original comprehensiveness. And so of the measure, as it was now

carried, it will apparently be correct to say that, though it did make

an important change in the practical working of the constitution, it

made it only by reverting to the fundamental principles of civil and

religious liberty, to which every subject had a right; which had only

been temporarily restrained under the apprehension of danger to the

state, and which the cessation of that apprehension made it a duty to

re-establish in all their fulness.

But it is by no means clear that in the conduct of the measure the

constitution was not violated in one very important point, the proper

relation subsisting between a constituency and its representative, by

Mr. Peel's resignation of his seat for the University of Oxford. That he

was sensible that the act stood in need of explanation is proved by the

careful statement of the motives and considerations that determined him

to it, which he drew up twenty years afterward. They were of a twofold

character. To quote his own words: "When I resolved to advise, and to

promote to the utmost of my power, the settlement of that question, I

resolved at the same time to relinquish, not only my official

station,[213] but the representation of the University of Oxford. I

thought that such decisive proofs that I could have no object, political

or personal, in taking a course different from that which I had

previously taken, would add to my influence and authority, so far, at

least, as the adjustment of the particular question at issue was

concerned." "I cannot deny that in vacating my seat I was acting upon

the impulse of private feelings, rather than upon a dispassionate

consideration of the constitutional relations between a representative

and his constituents. I will not seek to defend the resolution to which

I came by arguments drawn from the peculiar character of the academic

body, or from the special nature of the trust confided to its members;

still less will I contend that my example ought to be followed by others

to whom may be offered the same painful alternative of disregarding the

dictates of their own consciences, or of acting in opposition to the

opinions and disappointing the expectations of their constituents. I

will say no more than that my position was a very peculiar one, that I

had many painful sacrifices to make, and that it would have been a great

aggravation of them, if it could have said with truth that I was

exercising an authority derived from the confidence of the University to

promote measures injurious, in her deliberate judgment, either to her

own interests or to those of the Church."

No one would willingly censure too severely an act dictated by a sense

of honor, even if somewhat overstrained and too scrupulously delicate;

but when Mr. Peel speaks of "defending" or not defending his deed, he

clearly admits it to be one open to impeachment. And when he forbears to

"contend that his example ought to be followed," he seems practically to

confess a consciousness that any defence against such impeachment must

fail; while the last sentence quoted above involves an assertion that a

constituency (in this instance one of the two most important

constituencies in the kingdom) could be justified in regarding a measure

required by the safety, or at least by the welfare, of the state, as

injurious to its own interests; and so far admits a possible severance

between the interests of a particular class or body and those of the

whole community, which can have no real existence. That, however, is not

the point to be investigated here. The charge, as it seems, to which Mr.

Peel's deed lays him open is, that by it he lowered the position and

character of a member of Parliament from those of a representative to

those of a delegate. It was an adoption of the principle laid down for

his own guidance by a colleague of Mr. Burke above fifty years before,

and indignantly repudiated by that great political philosopher, as

proceeding from an entire misapprehension of the rights of a

constituency and of a member[214] of Parliament. He told the electors of

Bristol that "when they had chosen their member, he was not a member of

Bristol, but a member of Parliament; and that if the local constituent

should have an interest, or should form an opinion, evidently opposite

to the real good of the rest of the community, the member for that place

ought to be as far as any other from any endeavor to give it effect;"

that a representative "owes to his constituents, not his industry only,

but his judgment, and betrays instead of serving them, if he sacrifices

it to their opinion." And in so saying he carried with him the

concurrence and approval of all his contemporaries whose sentiments on

such a question were entitled to weight.

In the States-general of France each member was, by the original

constitution of that body, a delegate, and not a representative. He

could not even remonstrate against the most oppressive grievance of

which the previous instructions of the constituent body had not

instructed him to complain; and this limitation of his duties and powers

was, undoubtedly, one very principal cause which led to the

States-general so rapidly falling into utter disrepute. It was no light

thing to take a step which had a tendency to bring down the British

Parliament to the level of the despised and long-disused States-general.

And it is the more necessary to put the case in a clear and true light,

because at the present day there is an evident disposition on the part

of constituencies to avail themselves of Peel's conduct in this instance

as a precedent, in spite of his protest against its being so regarded,

and to fetter their representatives with precise instructions; and a

corresponding willingness on the part of candidates to purchase support

at elections by a submissive giving of pledges on a variety of subjects,

so numerous as to leave themselves no freedom of judgment at all. On the

great majority of subjects which come before Parliament, a member of

Parliament, if he be a sensible and an honest man, has a far better

opportunity of obtaining correct information and forming a sound opinion

than can be within reach of any constituency, whose proneness to

misjudge is usually in exact proportion to the magnitude of its numbers.

Every elector justifiably may, and naturally will, seek to ascertain

that between the candidate whom he supports and himself there is a

general conformity of opinion; an absolute identity he will never find,

and he has no right to ask.[215]

Notes:

[Footnote 182: £118,776,000. Alison, c. lxxvi.]

[Footnote 183: See Lord Malmesbury's account of their first

interview.--_Diaries of Lord Malmesbury_, iii., 218.]

[Footnote 184: "Parliamentary Debates," series 2, ii., 632.]

[Footnote 185: Mr. Brougham gave his opinion that if the Duke of York,

or any other member of the royal family, had been named, it would have

been offensive to the Queen; but the measure adopted he regarded as of a

neutral character. (Mentioned by Lord Liverpool, "Life of Lord

Liverpool," iii., 55.)]

[Footnote 186: "Minutes of Cabinet," dated 10th and 14th February, 1820,

forwarded the King by Lord Liverpool ("Life of Lord Liverpool," iii.,

35-88).]

[Footnote 187: "Life of Sir J. Mackintosh," by R.J. Mackintosh, ii.,

110, 116.]

[Footnote 188: "Lives of the Chief-justices," iii., 171.]

[Footnote 189: In a letter on the subject to Lord Liverpool, the Duke

goes the length of calling the proposed bill "an experiment which,

should it fail, must entail the dreadful alternative of the entire ruin

of the landed interests of the empire, with which he is decidedly of

opinion that the nation must stand or fall."--_Life of Lord Liverpool_,

iii., 434.]

[Footnote 190: At one time it was the fashion with writers of the

Liberal party to represent Lord Liverpool as led by Lord Castlereagh in

the earlier, and by Canning in the later, part of his administration;

but Lord Liverpool's correspondence with both these ministers shows

clearly that on every subject of foreign as well as of home policy he

was the real guide and ruler of his cabinet. Even the recognition of the

independence of the South American provinces of Spain--which is so often

represented as exclusively the work of Canning--the memorandum on the

subject which Lord Liverpool drew up for the cabinet proves that the

policy adopted was entirely his own, and that as such he adhered to it

resolutely, in spite of the avowed disapproval of the Duke of Wellington

and the known unwillingness of the King to sanction it; and it may be

remarked (as he and Lord Castlereagh have sometime been described as

favoring the Holy Alliance), that the concluding sentence of his letter

to the Duke on the subject expresses his hostility, not only to that

celebrated treaty, but to the policy which dictated and was embodied in

it. (See Lord Liverpool's memorandum for the cabinet and letter to the

Duke of Wellington, December 8, 1824.)--_Life of Lord Liverpool_, iii.,

297-305.]

[Footnote 191: See ante, p. 222.]

[Footnote 192: "With much prudence or laudable disinterestedness," says

Hallam ("Constitutional History," ii., 532).]

[Footnote 193: The last time had been in 1790, when there had been a

majority of 187 against it.--_Peel's Memoirs_, i., 99.]

[Footnote 194: 237 to 193.]

[Footnote 195: "Peel's Memoirs," i., 68.]

[Footnote 196: "Wellington's Civil Despatches," iv., 453.]

[Footnote 197: See his letter to Peel, March 23 ("Peel's Memoirs," i.,

92-100).]

[Footnote 198: The entry of this bill in Cobbett's "Parliamentary

History" is: "The House of Commons testified a very extraordinary zeal

in unravelling the Popish Plot, and, to prevent mischief in the

interval, passed a bill to disable Papists from sitting in either House

of Parliament," to which the Lords, when the bill came up to their

House, added a proviso exempting the Duke of York from its operation.

An. 1678; October 26 to November 21.---_Parliamentary History_, iv.,

1024-1039.]

[Footnote 199: In the House of Commons the majority for Sir F. Burdett's

resolution was six--372 to 266. But, in the House of Lords, Lord

Lansdowne, moving the same resolution, was defeated by forty-five--182

to 137.]

[Footnote 200: See Fitzgerald's letter to Peel ("Peel's Memoirs," i.,

114).]

[Footnote 201: "Peel's Memoirs," i., 121.]

[Footnote 202: See "Lord Anglesey's Letters," _ibid._, pp. 126, 147.]

[Footnote 203: As early as the year 1812, on the negotiations (mentioned

in a former chapter) for the entrance of Lord Grenville and Lord Grey

into the ministry, the Duke of York mentioned to both those noblemen

that the Regent had an insuperable objection to the concession of

Emancipation. And it seems probable that it was the knowledge of his

sentiments on that point that greatly influenced the course which Lord

Liverpool subsequently pursued in regard to that question.--See _Life of

Lord Liverpool_, i, 381.]

[Footnote 204: Speech on moving the second reading of the bill in the

House of Lords, February 19, 1829 ("Hansard," xx., 389).]

[Footnote 205: Speech on the first reading of the bill, February 10

("Hansard," xx., 208).]

[Footnote 206: Speech on the first reading ("Hansard," xx., 198).]

[Footnote 207: An amendment was proposed by Lord Chandos to add the

office of Prime-minister to these three, on the ground that if a Roman

Catholic were Prime-minister "he might have the disposal of all the

patronage of the state and the Church vested in his hands." But Mr. Peel

pointed out that the law of England "never recognized any such office as

that of Prime-minister. In the eyes of the law the ministers were all on

an equality." And the position, such as it was, being a conventional

one, was not necessarily connected with the office of First Lord of the

Treasury. "In a recent instance his late right honorable friend, Mr.

Canning, had determined to hold the office of Prime-minister with that

of Secretary of State. And when Lord Chatham was Prime-minister, he did

not hold the office of First Lord of the Treasury." At the same time he

explained that the impropriety of intrusting a Roman Catholic with

Church patronage was already guarded against in the bill, a clause of

which provided that "it should not be lawful for any person professing

the Roman Catholic religion directly or indirectly to advise the crown

in any appointment to or disposal of any office or preferment, lay or

ecclesiastical, in the united Church of England and Ireland, or of the

Church of Scotland."--_Hansard_, xx., 1425.]

[Footnote 208: Many years afterward the restriction as to the Lord

Chancellorship of Ireland was abolished.]

[Footnote 209: The plan which Pitt had intended to propose was to

substitute in lieu of the Sacramental test a political test, to be

imposed indiscriminately on all persons sitting in Parliament, or

holding state or corporation offices, and also on all ministers of

religion, of whatever description, etc., etc. This test was to disclaim

in express terms the sovereignty of the people, and was to contain an

oath of allegiance and "fidelity to the King's government of the realm,

and to the established constitutions of Church and state."--Letter of

Lord Grenville, given in _Courts and Cabinets of George III._, and

quoted by Lord Stanhope, _Life of Pitt_, iii., 270. This plan seems very

preferable to that now adopted, since it removed every appearance of

making a distinction between the professors of the different creeds,

when the same oath was to be taken by all indifferently.]

[Footnote 210: The question had been discussed with the highest Papal

authorities more than once since the beginning of the century. In 1812

Mgr. Quarantotti, the prelate who, during the detention of the Pope in

France by Napoleon, was invested with the chief authority in

ecclesiastical affairs at Rome, in a letter to the Vicar-apostolic, Dr.

Poynter, formally announced the consent of the Papal See to give the

King a veto on all ecclesiastical appointments within the United

Kingdom; and, after his return to Rome, Pio VII. himself confirmed the

former title by a second addressed, by his instructions, to the same Dr.

Poynter, which letter, in 1816, was read by Mr. Grattan in the House of

Commons, it being throughout understood that this concession of the veto

to the King was conditional on the abolition of the disabilities and the

endowment of the priesthood. And in 1825, after Lord Francis Egerton's

resolution had been carried in the House of Commons, Dr. Doyle, one of

the most eminent of the Roman Catholic bishops in Ireland, in an

examination before a committee of the House of Lords, expressed the

willingness of the Roman Catholic clergy to accept a state provision, if

it were permanently annexed to each benefice, and accompanied with a

concession of an equality of civil rights to the Roman Catholic

laity.--See _Life of Lord Liverpool_, ii, 145; _Diary of Lord

Colchester, March_ 17, 1835, iii., 373; _Peel's Memoirs_, i., 306, 333

_seq._]

[Footnote 211: The sum to be thus employed seems to have been intended

to be £300,000 a year.--_Peel's Memoirs_, i., 197. On the whole question

of the payment and Peel's objections to it, see _ibid._, pp. 197, 306.]

[Footnote 212: See his "Civil Despatches," iv., 570. In February, 1829,

he said to Lord Sidmouth, "It is a bad business, but we are aground."

"Does your Grace think, then," asked Lord Sidmouth, "that this

concession will tranquillize Ireland?" "I can't tell; I hope it will,"

answered the Duke, who shortly discovered, and had the magnanimity to

admit, his mistake.--_Life of Lord Sidmouth_, iii., 453. It is

remarkable that the question of endowing the Roman Catholic clergy was

again considered by Lord John Russell's ministry in 1848. A letter of

Prince Albert in October of that year says, with reference to it: "The

bishops have protested against Church endowment, being themselves well

off; but the clergy would gratefully accept it if offered, but dare not

avow this."--_Life of the Prince Consort_, ii., 186.]

[Footnote 213: This first extract refers in part to the proposal which

he made to the Duke to resign his office as Secretary of State, and to

support the Emancipation as a private member, a design which he only

relinquished at the Duke's earnest entreaty. The second extract refers

to the seat in Parliament alone.--See _Peel's Memoirs_, i., 310, 312.]

[Footnote 214: Speech to the electors of Bristol on being declared by

the sheriffs duly elected member for that city, November 3,

1774.--_Burke's Works_, iii., 11, ed 1803.]

[Footnote 215: It is worth pointing out, however, that, as if it were

one of the natural fruits of the Reform Bill, the Liberal Committee of

the Livery of London in 1832 passed a series of resolutions asserting

the principle of delegation without the slightest modification; one

resolution affirming "that members chosen to be representatives in

Parliament ought to do such things as their constituents wish and direct

them to do;" another, "that a signed engagement should be exacted from

every member that he would at all times and in all things act

conformably to the wishes of a majority of his constituents, or would at

their request resign the trust with which they had honored

him."--_Annual Register_, 1832, p. 300; _quoted by Alison_, 2d series,

v., 355.]

The Constitutional History of England from 1760 to 1860 · 第 9 / 15 章