CHAPTER XIII.

Dismissal of Lord Palmerston.--Theory of the Relation between the

Sovereign and the Cabinet.--Correspondence of the Sovereign with French

Princes.--Russian War.--Abolition of the Tax on Newspapers.--Life

Peerages.--Resignation of two Bishops.--Indian Mutiny.--Abolition of the

Sovereign Power of the Company.--Visit of the Prince of Wales to

India.--Conspiracy Bill.--Rise of the Volunteers.--National

Fortifications.--The Lords Reject the Measure for the Repeal of the

Paper-duties.--Lord Palmerston's Resolutions.--Character of the Changes

during the last Century.

The frequency of ministerial changes at this time has already been

mentioned, and the first of them took place at the beginning of 1852,

under circumstances which throw some light on a question which has never

been exactly defined--the duty of the different members of a cabinet to

one another, to the Prime-minister, and to the sovereign.

Queen Victoria had a high idea of her duties and responsibilities. From

any legal responsibility she was aware that she was exempt; but she did

not the less consider that a moral responsibility rested on her not to

be content to give her royal sanction as a mere matter of form to every

scheme or measure which might be submitted to her, but to examine every

case for herself, to form her own opinion, and, if it differed from that

of her ministers, to lay her objections and views fairly before them,

though prepared, as the constitution required, to act on their decision

rather than on her own, if, in spite of her arguments, they adhered to

their judgment. And in carrying out this notion of her duty she was

singularly aided by the Prince, her husband, a man of perfectly upright

character, of great general ability, and who, from the first moment of

his married life, regulated his views of every question, domestic and

foreign, by its bearing on English interests and English feelings, to

which he early acclimatized himself with a remarkable readiness of

appreciation.

In the administration of Lord John Russell, Lord Palmerston was Foreign

Secretary, and during its latter years foreign affairs occupied more of

the attention of the country than matters of domestic policy.

The revolution of 1848, which overthrew the Orleans dynasty, had

produced in France a state of affairs but little removed from anarchy,

which was scarcely mitigated by the election of Prince Louis Napoleon to

the Presidency of the new republic for four years, so constant was the

opposition which the Republican party in the Assembly offered to every

part of his policy. They even carried their opposition so far as to form

a deliberate plan for the impeachment of his minister and himself, and

for his arrest and imprisonment at Vincennes. But he was well-informed

of all these dangers, and on the morning of the 2d of December, 1851

(the day, as was commonly believed, having been selected by him as being

the anniversary of his uncle's great victory of Austerlitz), he

anticipated them by the arrest of all the leading malcontents in their

beds; which he followed up by an appeal to the people to adopt a new

constitution which he set before them, the chief article of which was

the appointment of a President for ten years.

No one could avoid seeing that what was aimed at was the

re-establishment of the Empire in his own person. And so arbitrary a

deed, as was inevitable, produced great excitement in England and

anxious deliberations in the cabinet. Their decision, in strict

uniformity with the principle that rules our conduct toward foreign

nations, was to instruct our ambassador in Paris, Lord Normanby, to

avoid any act or word which could wear the appearance of an act of

interference of any kind in the internal affairs of France. But, on Lord

Normanby reporting these instructions to the French Foreign Secretary,

M. Guizot, he learned, to his surprise and perplexity, that Lord

Palmerston had interfered already by expressing to the French ambassador

in London, M. de Walewski, his warm approval of the President's

conduct;[276] and Lord Normanby, greatly annoyed at being directed to

hold one language in Paris, while the head of his department was taking

a widely different tone in Downing Street--a complication which

inevitably "subjected him to misrepresentation and suspicion"--naturally

complained to the Prime-minister of being placed in so embarrassing a

situation.

Both the Queen and the Prime-minister had for some time been

discontented at the independent manner in which Lord Palmerston

apparently considered himself entitled to transact the business of his

department, carrying it so far as even to claim a right to send out

despatches without giving them any intimation of either their contents

or their objects. And the Queen, in consequence, above a year

before,[277] had drawn up a memorandum, in which she expressed with

great distinctness her desire to have every step which the Foreign

Secretary might recommend to be taken laid clearly before her, with

sufficient time for consideration, "that she might know distinctly to

what she had given her royal sanction;" and "to be kept informed of what

passed between him and the Foreign Ministers before important decisions

are taken," etc., etc. And, after such an intimation of her wish, she

not unnaturally felt great annoyance at learning that in a transaction

so important as this coup d'etat (to give it the name by which from the

first it was described in every country) Lord Palmerston had taken upon

himself to hold language to the French Ambassador "in complete

contradiction to the line of strict neutrality and passiveness which she

had expressed her desire to see followed with regard to the late

convulsions at Paris, and which was approved by the cabinet."[278] The

Prime-minister seems to have taken the same view of the act, and

remonstrated with Lord Palmerston, who treated the matter very lightly,

and justified his right to hold such a conversation, which he

characterized as "unofficial," in such a tone and on such grounds that

Lord John considered he left him no alternative "but to advise the Queen

to place the Foreign Office in other hands."

A careful and generally impartial political critic has recently

expressed an opinion "that Lord Palmerston made good his case;"[279] but

his argument on the transaction seems to overlook the most material

point in it. Lord Palmerston's own defence of his conduct was, that "his

conversation with Walewski was of an unofficial description; that he had

said nothing to him which would in any degree or way fetter the action

of the government; and that, if it was to be held that a Secretary of

State could never express any opinion to a foreign minister on passing

events except as the organ of a previously consulted cabinet, there

would be an end of that easy and familiar intercourse which tends

essentially to promote good understanding between ministers and

government;" and he even added, as a personal justification of himself

as against the Prime-minister, that three days afterward Lord John

Russell himself, Lord Lansdowne (the President of the Council), and Sir

Charles Wood (the Chancellor of the Exchequer) had all discussed the

transaction with M. de Walewski at a dinner-party, "and their opinions

were, if anything, rather more strongly favorable than his had been."

This personal aspect of the case it is impossible to discuss, since

there are no means of knowing whether the ministers mentioned would have

admitted the correctness of this report of their language. If it were

confessed to be accurate, it would only show them to have been guilty of

equal impropriety, and to a great extent justify him as against the

Prime-minister, whose condemnation of his language, if he were conscious

that he had held the same himself, would be inexplicable. But it

certainly does not justify him in respect of her Majesty or the cabinet

collectively, since the Queen's complaint was, not that he held

unofficial conversations as a private individual, and not as "the organ

of a previously consulted cabinet," but that the tenor of the

conversation which he had held was in direct contradiction to the tone

which the cabinet had decided should be taken on the subject; that his

language was calculated to draw the government into a course of action

which it had been deliberately resolved to avoid. And, in spite of the

deference due to Lord Palmerston's great experience, it is hard to see

how a conversation between our Foreign Secretary and the French

Ambassador on an action, the result of which is as yet undecided, can be

wholly unofficial, in the sense of having no influence on the conduct of

affairs, or, as he expressed it, "in no degree or way fettering the

action of the government."

The result was, as has been mentioned before, that the Prime-minister

recommended the removal of Lord Palmerston from his office, and that he

was removed accordingly. And this conclusion of the case seems to show

that the statement of the position of the Prime-minister in the cabinet

is rather understated by Mr. Gladstone in one of his essays,[280] where

he says: "The head of the British government is not a Grand Vizier. He

has no powers, properly so called, over his colleagues; on the rare

occasions when a cabinet determines its course by the votes of its

members, his vote only counts as one of theirs." He admits at the same

time that "they are appointed and dismissed by the sovereign on his

advice." And surely to have the right of giving this advice is to have

the greatest possible power over his colleagues; not power, perhaps, to

change their opinions (though it possibly at times has had power to

prevent the expression of them), but power to compass their immediate

removal from the administration, as was exercised in this instance, and

as had been exercised by Pitt with regard to Lord Thurlow. That a

difference of opinion, even on an important subject, is not always

regarded as a sufficient cause for such a dismissal; that a

Prime-minister, especially if conscious of his strength, occasionally

consents to retain colleagues who differ from him on some one subject,

the same work to which we are partly indebted for our knowledge of the

details of this affair--the "Life of the Prince Consort"--furnishes two

remarkable instances in which the Prime-minister, then Lord Palmerston

himself, submitted to be overruled. We read there that on one occasion,

when "Count Persigny sought the active intervention of England by the

way of 'moral support' to a demand" which France proposed to address to

Austria, "Lord Palmerston and Lord John Russell (then Foreign Secretary)

were disposed to accede; but a different view was taken both by her

Majesty and by the cabinet, and Count Persigny's request was accordingly

declined."[281] On this occasion, it is true, he was yielding to an

overwhelming majority of his colleagues (her Majesty's approval must, of

course, have been expressed subsequently to their decision). But in

another instance we find the same Prime-minister consenting to the

introduction of a bill by one of his colleagues, Mr. Gladstone, then

Chancellor of the Exchequer, of which he disapproved so highly that,

after it had been passed by a very slender majority of the House of

Commons,[282] he expressed to the Queen a hope that the closeness of the

division "might encourage the House of Lords to throw out the bill when

it should come to their House, and that he was bound in duty to say

that, if they should do so, they would perform a good public service;"

and after they had rejected it by a majority of eighty-nine, he

pronounced that "they had done a right and useful thing," reporting to

her Majesty, as a corroboration of this opinion, and as a proof that it

was largely shared by the public out-of-doors, that "the people in the

gallery of the House of Lords are said to have joined in the cheers

which broke out when the numbers of the division were announced."[283]

And on a third occasion also he bore with the same colleague's

opposition to a measure which he and all the rest of the cabinet justly

thought of vital importance to the best interests of the country, the

fortification of our great seaports, allowing him to object for a time

in private, and even to threaten public opposition to it the next year,

since he felt assured that his opposition, if carried out, which he

doubted, would be wholly ineffectual.[284]

The personal interest in politics which this laudable habit of judging

of everything for herself naturally engendered in the Queen's mind led,

however, to the adoption by her Majesty, in more than one instance, of a

course at variance not only with all historical precedent, but, with

deference be it said, with constitutional principle, sanctioned though

it was by more than one ministry. When the First Napoleon, after his

elevation to the head of the French government as First Consul,

proposed, by an autograph letter to George III., to treat with that

sovereign for the conclusion of peace between the two nations, Pitt, to

whom his Majesty communicated the letter, had no difficulty in deciding

that it would be unseasonable for the King "to depart from the forms

long established in Europe for transacting business with foreign

states,"[285] and, under his guidance, the cabinet instructed Lord

Grenville, as Foreign Secretary, to address the reply to the First

Consul's letter to the French Foreign Secretary, M. de Talleyrand.

But this reign has witnessed several departures from the old and

convenient rule. Its violation was not begun by her Majesty, but by the

Emperor Nicholas of Russia in the year preceding the Crimean war. He

wrote to the Queen herself to discuss some of the points in dispute, and

she answered his letter with her own hand.[286] The outbreak of war

which soon ensued prevented any continuation of that correspondence; but

the close alliance which that war for a time produced between England

and France, strengthened as it was by an interchange of visits between

the royal and imperial families, which led to the establishment of a

strong mutual friendliness and regard, led also to an occasional

interchange of letters on some of the gravest questions affecting the

policy of the two nations. The correspondence was sanctioned by

successive English cabinets, every letter which the Queen either

received from, or sent to, any foreign prince on political affairs being

invariably communicated by her either to the Prime-minister or to the

Foreign Secretary; and they, in one instance, even suggesting to her

Majesty to write to Louis Napoleon[287] with an object so delicate as

that of influencing the language with which he was about to open his

Chambers.

But we must think the line recommended by Pitt to George III. both more

constitutional and more safe. A letter from one sovereign to another on

political subjects cannot be divested of the character of a state-paper,

and for every state-paper some one must be responsible. The sovereign

cannot be, but for every one of his actions the ministers are. And it

follows, therefore, that they are thus made responsible for documents of

which they have not been the original authors; of which, were it not for

the courtesy of the sovereign, they might by possibility be wholly

ignorant; and with parts of which, even with the knowledge which that

courtesy has afforded them, they may not fully coincide, since they

could hardly venture to subject a composition of their royal mistress to

a vigorous criticism. Such a correspondence, therefore, places them so

far in a false position, and it runs the risk of placing the sovereign

himself in one equally false and unpleasant, since, if the opinions

expressed or the advice given fail of their effect, the adviser is so

far lowered in the eyes of his correspondent and of the world.

As has been incidentally mentioned, in the spring of 1854 war broke out

with Russia, nominally on account of the Sultan's refusal to concede

some of the Czar's demands concerning the condition of the Greek Church

in Palestine, but more really because, believing the Turkish empire to

be in the last stage of decay, he hoped by hastening its destruction to

obtain the lion's share of its spoils. And for the first time for two

centuries an English and French army stood together in a field of battle

as allies. In the field our armies were invariably victorious,

inflicting severe defeats on the enemy at Alma and Inkerman, and

wresting from them the mighty fortress of Sebastopol, in the Crimea,

which hitherto they had believed to be absolutely impregnable. Our fleet

was, if possible, still more triumphant, destroying Bomarsund and

Sweaborg, in the Baltic, without the Russian ships daring to fire a

single gun in their defence, while their Black Sea fleet was even sunk

by its own admiral, as the only expedient to save it from capture. And

in the spring of 1856 the war was terminated by a treaty of peace, in

which, for the first time since the days of Peter the Great, Russia was

compelled to submit to a cession of territory. But (it may almost be

said) to the credit of the nation these successes, glorious and

substantial as they were, made at the time scarcely so great an

impression on the people as the hardships which, in the first winter of

the war, our troops suffered from the defective organization of our

commissariat. Want of shelter and want of food proved more destructive

than the Russian cannon; presently our gallant soldiers were reported to

be perishing by hundreds for lack of common necessaries; and the news

awakened so clamorous a discontent throughout the whole of the United

Kingdom as led to another change of ministry, and Lord Aberdeen was

succeeded by Lord Palmerston. While a war on so large a scale was being

waged there was but little time to spare for the work of the legislator,

though it is not foreign to our subject to relate that in 1855 the last

of those taxes which the political economists denounced as taxes on

knowledge, the tax on newspapers, was abolished. Originally it had been

fourpence; in 1836 Mr. Spring Rice, Chancellor of the Exchequer in Lord

Melbourne's ministry, had reduced it to a penny; and now, with a very

general acquiescence, it was abolished altogether.

The entire abolition of a tax is not properly to be called a financial

measure, that epithet belonging rather to those which aim at an

augmentation of revenue by an increase in the number of contributors to

a tax, while lessening the amount paid by each. But the abandonment of

the tax in question should rather be regarded as a sacrifice of revenue

for the instruction of the people in political knowledge; a price paid

to enable and induce the poorer classes to take a well-instructed

interest in the affairs of the state and the general condition of the

country. And, viewed in this light, the abolition of this tax must be

allowed to have been a political measure of great importance, and to

have contributed greatly to the end which was aimed at. Till 1836 a

daily paper, costing sevenpence, was the luxury of the few; and the sale

even of those which had the largest circulation was necessarily limited.

But the removal of the tax at once gave birth to a host of penny

newspapers, conducted for the most part with great ability, and soon

attaining a circulation which reached down to all but the very poorest

class; so that the working-man has now an opportunity of seeing the most

important questions of the day discussed from every point of view, and

of thus acquiring information and forming a judgment on them which the

subsequent extension of the franchise makes it more than ever desirable

that he should be able to form for himself. Every movement in that

direction renders it the more necessary to raise the intelligence of the

great mass of the people to a level which may enable them to make a safe

and salutary use of the power placed in their hands. And no mode of

implanting a wholesome political feeling in the masses can equal candid

political discussion: discussion one ruling principle of which shall be

to teach that the greatest differences of opinion may be honestly

entertained; that, with scarcely an exception, the leading men of each

party, those who have any title to the name of statesman, are animated

with an honest, patriotic desire to promote the best interests of the

nation; and that the elucidation of truth is not aided by unreasoning

invective and the undeserved imputation of base motives.

One of the last topics discussed by Mr. Hallam was the introduction of a

bill to limit for the future the prerogative of the crown in a field in

which its exercise had previously been unrestrained, the creation of

peers;[288] and among the last which we shall have to examine was one of

an exactly opposite character, though relating to the same subject, the

creation of a life peerage. In the winter of 1855 Sir James Parke, one

of the Barons of the Exchequer, was created Lord Wenslydale, by

letters-patent which conferred the title limiting it also to the new

peer's own life. The professed object of the measure was to strengthen

the judicial power of the House of Lords. But it was not denied that the

limitation of the peerage conferred on him for his own life (a

limitation which made no practical difference to Sir James himself,

since he had no children) was intended to raise the question whether the

crown could or could not create a life peerage with a seat in the House

of Lords. A creation so limited was so novel, or at all events so long

disused a proceeding, that it inevitably provoked examination and

discussion. And, as it was found that the lawyers in general regarded it

as indefensible, at the beginning of the session of 1856 Lord Lyndhurst

brought the matter before the House of Lords by a motion for the

appointment of a committee of privileges to investigate and report upon

it. There were two aspects of the case which naturally came to be

considered in the debates on it which ensued: the advantages or

disadvantages, in other words, the political expediency, of such a form

of letters-patent, and their legal or constitutional propriety. It was,

of course, with the latter alone that the committee of privileges had to

deal. And this part of the question was examined with great legal and

antiquarian learning, though, as was almost inevitable, it was argued as

a party question, except, indeed, by the lawyers. They, with the

exception of the Chancellor, Lord Cranworth, who had advised the

measure, were unanimous in their condemnation of it; the Whig peers,

Lord Brougham and Lord Campbell, then Chief-justice, being as positive

in their denial of the right so to exercise the prerogative as those on

the Opposition side of the House, Lord Lyndhurst or Lord St.

Leonards.[289]

The arguments against the measure were chiefly these: The objectors drew

a distinction between what was legal according to the strict letter of

the law, and what was constitutional; contending that there might be

exercises of the prerogative which could not be affirmed to be illegal,

but which no one would deny to be altogether inconsistent with the

principles and practice of the constitution, since a great part of the

constitution rested on unwritten law, on long-continued usage, _Lex et

consuetudo Parliamenti_. And they affirmed that this measure was so

opposed to that usage, that "no instance had occurred within a period of

four hundred years in which a commoner had been raised to a seat in the

House of Lords by a patent of peerage containing only an estate for

life;"[290] one most essential, if not the most essential character of

the peerage being that it was an hereditary dignity, and one which

combined with its rank an hereditary seat in the House of Lords. That

one or two instances of life peerages were to be found in the annals of

the Plantagenet kings was not denied, though none exactly similar in

character.[291] But Lord Lyndhurst argued that precedents which had

occurred "at a time when the constitution of the country was neither

understood nor fully formed" were entitled to but little respect; and

Lord Derby, limiting the age of valid precedents a little more strictly,

"said frankly that he had no respect for any precedent affecting the

prerogatives of the crown that dated farther back than the year 1688."

And since that time, or indeed since the time of Henry VIII., it was

certain that no life peerage had ever been granted, except by Charles

II., James II., and George I. and II., to some of their mistresses,

instances wholly beside the present case, since, of course, none of

those ladies could claim seats in the House of Lords. Indeed, it was

believed that both Mr. Pitt, at the time of the Union, and Lord Grey, in

1832, had considered the question, and had both decided against the

propriety of advising a creation of life peerages.

In defence of the measure Lord Granville refused to admit the

distinction between what was legal and what was constitutional; if a

measure were both legal, that is, warranted by the letter of the law,

and also expedient, these two concurrent qualities, he contended, made

it constitutional. He denied, also, that any legal prerogatives of the

crown could be held to have lapsed through disuse; _nullum tempus

occurrit Regi_; and he challenged any peer to assert that the sovereign

had lost the right of refusing his royal assent to a measure passed by

the two Houses, merely because no sovereign since William III. had so

exercised his royal prerogative. And against the authority of Mr. Pitt

and Lord Grey he quoted that of Lord John Russell, who, in 1851, had

offered a life peerage to an eminent judge, who, though he had declined

the offer, had been influenced in his refusal by no doubt of the right

of the crown to make it.

On the expediency of the measure its opponents had urged that it would

effect a remodelling of the House of Peers, a total change of its

constitution, by the introduction of a second and distinct class of

peerages; and Lord Campbell, with a not unbecoming jealousy for what he

regarded as the interests of his brother lawyers, argued that it would

"henceforth prevent any lawyer, however eminent he might have been as an

advocate, whatever services he might have rendered to the state in the

House of Commons, whatever fame or fortune he might have acquired, from

aspiring to an hereditary peerage, or to becoming the founder of a

family, since, to make a distinction between the Chancellor and the

Chief-justice, between one Chancellor or Chief-justice and another, when

coming into the Upper House, as to the tenure of their honors, would be

intolerable; all must be under the same rule, 'no son of theirs

succeeding.'" And Lord Lyndhurst closed his argument by drawing a

comparison between the House of Lords and the French Senate: "It was but

a few weeks since he had read an official comment in the _Moniteur_,

coming from the highest source, on the inefficiency, the want of

patriotism, energy, and the backwardness to fulfil the high destinies to

which they were called, that characterized that illustrious body, the

Senate of France. He had no disposition to cut down our tribunal to that

life interest on which the Senate of France is based, as he believed the

hereditary character of the House of Lords to be one from which great

and important advantages are derived.... The hereditary principle," he

added, "is intwined in every part of our constitution; we in this House

enjoy our hereditary rights in common with the crown; we mutually

support and assist each other, and we form a barrier and defence to

protect both those branches of the constitution against any by whom they

may be assailed."

As Lord Granville had made the expediency of any measure the quality

which, combined with legality, was sufficient to establish its

constitutional character, he naturally labored this point with especial

diligence. He dwelt upon the great importance of strengthening the

judicial element in the House, since it was the great ultimate court of

appeal. He produced a letter of the great Chancellor, Lord Eldon, which

quoted instances in which various administrations had found difficulties

in the way of introducing eminent lawyers into the House, because their

want of adequate fortune to support the rank had disinclined them to

encumber their descendants with an hereditary peerage. He showed also

that that difficulty had made so great an impression on their own

Chairman of Committees, Lord Redesdale, that on one occasion he had

intimated a feeling in favor of allowing "the Law, in the same way as

the Church, to be, to a certain extent, represented in the House by the

holders of certain offices, who should be admitted to that House as

Peers of Parliament during the continuance of holding such office" (to

which argument Earl Grey added another, that the instance of bishops,

who were but life peers, proved that the holders of life peerages were

not considered inferior to hereditary peers).

He dwelt, too, on the evil consequence of the Lords "placing themselves

before the country as seeking to limit the prerogative of the crown,

when that prerogative was exercised with a view to remedy something that

was weak, and to remove a certain imminent danger." What the danger was

he certainly did not explain. But Lord Grey, in supporting him, took

wider ground, and, applying the argument derived from Lord Eldon's

letter to other professions, extolled the idea of instituting life

peerages as one whose effect would be "more easily to open the doors of

the House to men whom it was desirable should be admitted--to

distinguished officers; to eminent writers; to members of the House of

Commons, who in their different lines might have rendered good service

to the state, but who, though possessing means amply sufficient to

support their rank during their own life, yet, from having only a life

income, or a numerous family to be provided for, might be unable to

accept an hereditary peerage without injury to their family. In such

instances," he contended, "it would be most desirable to grant peerages

for life only. Such a proceeding would, he was convinced, by no means

disincline others in different circumstances to accept hereditary

titles, nor indispose the ministry to confer them. Nor did he see any

reason for fearing that the practice of creating life peerages would be

more likely to be abused for the purpose of increasing the power of the

minister than the creation of hereditary peerages."

The committee of privileges was appointed, and reported it as the

opinion of the members that "neither the letters-patent by themselves,

or with, the addition of the usual writ of summons, could entitle the

grantee to sit and vote in Parliament." And the House, by a majority of

ninety-two to fifty-seven, adopted their report. The ministers yielded

to its judgment, and ennobled Lord Wenslydale by a new patent in the

usual form, as Lord Derby had suggested. But Lord Derby desired to show

that his objection had been founded on principle only; and, as he was

willing to admit that, apart from the principle involved, "some

advantages in certain cases, and under certain modifications, might

arise from peerages for life," he proposed the appointment of a select

committee "to consider the expediency of making provision for the more

efficient discharge of the duties of the House as a court of appeal."

The committee was appointed, and, after careful consideration,

recommended the creation of two new offices, to be held by two law

lords, as "Deputy Speakers of the House of Lords," who should be judges

of at least five years' standing, and should be enabled "by authority of

Parliament to sit and vote in the House, and enjoy all the rights and

privileges of a peer of Parliament under a patent conferring a peerage

for life only, if the crown may have granted or shall grant the same to

such persons in preference to an hereditary peerage, provided always

that not more than four persons shall have seats in the House at one

time as peers for life." Such an arrangement would have introduced a new

practice, but not a new principle, since the annexation of a seat in the

House of Lords to certain offices had existed from time immemorial in

the case of the bishops. And the bill was carried in the House of Lords,

but defeated in the Commons by a motion to refer it to a committee,

which was adopted by a small majority, in a not very full House,[292]

toward the end of the session.

Those who look at the question apart from all preference of one minister

or one party to another will, probably, be of opinion that the decision

of the committee, that a life peerage thus created by the crown could

not confer a seat in Parliament, was conformable to the most legitimate

view of the constitution. It was, indeed, matter of history that in the

Middle Ages the crown had exercised its prerogative in many ways which

it had since abandoned. Boroughs had been enfranchised, and again

disfranchised, apparently from no motive but pure caprice; writs of

summons had been withheld from peers.[293] But no one would have

justified the repetition of such acts now. And common-sense, as well as

recognized usage, favored the doctrine that long disuse was a sufficient

and lawful barrier against their revival. That the power of conferring

life peerages with a seat in Parliament--of which, perhaps, the only

undeniable instances were the cases of the brothers of Henry V., whose

royal blood would in those days, probably, have been held to warrant an

exception in their favor--had not been exercised for full four hundred

years, was admitted; and the assumption that so long a disuse of a power

was tantamount to a tacit renunciation of it, is quite compatible with a

loyal and due zeal for the maintenance of other parts of the prerogative

which have suffered no such abatement.

If, however, we consider the expediency of the measure, or, in other

words, the possible advantage that might ensue from the existence of a

power to create life peerages with a seat in Parliament, opinions will

probably be more divided. We have seen that Lord Derby allowed that

there might be advantages in such an exercise of power under certain

limitations; and the existing system does, undoubtedly, appear open to

improvement in certain cases. At present the only mode of rewarding

naval or military commanders who have performed brilliant and useful

service, or a Speaker of the House of Commons, whose public career,

though less showy and glorious, may at times have been scarcely less

valuable, and has certainly been by far more irksome, is the grant of a

peerage with a pension for lives. Without the peerage they cannot have

the pension.[294] And, consequently, many most distinguished officers,

whose conspicuous merits well deserved conspicuous honors, have gone

unrewarded except by some promotion of knighthood, which carries with it

no substantial benefit; while the descendants of some of those who have

been ennobled have openly lamented that the only mode which could be

found of honoring their fathers proves a punishment to their heirs, by

encumbering them with an empty title, which they are unable adequately

to support, and practically closing against them avenues to possible

wealth and distinction which custom pronounces derogatory to their rank.

So, not to mention the names of living worthies, no reward could be

found for Sir W. Parker, that brave and skilful seaman who conducted a

British fleet two hundred miles up a Chinese river, and crowned his

exploits by the capture of a mighty city, which had never before beheld

a European flag; nor for Inglis, who, when the safety of our Indian

Empire hung upon his gallantry, successfully sustained a siege whose

hardships and dangers are surpassed by none in ancient or modern

history. Many will, probably, be of opinion that it is not for the honor

of England that such services should want due recognition; and that for

men like those life peerages with liberal pensions would be an

appropriate recompense. It would, of course, be impossible to limit the

number of them beforehand, but it would also be needless, since the

nature of the services by which alone they could be deserved would act

of itself as a sufficient limitation.

One of the expedients which had been mentioned in this discussion had

been the annexation of peerages to certain offices, to which it had been

regarded as an unanswerable objection that this would be the creation of

an absolutely unheard-of tenure, the peer thus created being able at

pleasure to lay down his peerage, or even, it might be, being removable.

But before the end of the session an emergency arose which induced

Parliament to sanction the principle, novel though it was, that an

official peerage, if a bishopric may be so called, might be laid down

with the sanction of Parliament when the holder was no longer able to

discharge its duties. Two of the most eminent members of the Episcopal

bench, Dr. Blomfield, Bishop of London, and Dr. Maltby, Bishop of

Durham, had become wholly incapable of discharging their duties, the one

having been struck down by paralysis, and the other being almost blind.

And they now proposed to the Prime-minister that he should make some

arrangement by which they might be allowed to relinquish their offices,

retaining a certain portion of the income of their sees as a retiring

pension. There was no precedent for such an arrangement, but the

necessity of the two cases was so manifest, the injury which the Church

must suffer if the superintendence of two such important dioceses were

to be neglected, was so palpable, and the conditions of the retiring

pensions asked were so moderate and equitable, that Lord Palmerston had

no hesitation in sanctioning the introduction of a bill to give effect

to the arrangement proposed.

It did not pass without vigorous resistance from more than one quarter.

The Bishop of Exeter complained of it as incompatible with the great

Church principle, that a bishop could only resign his office to the

archbishop of his province; others opposed it as a violation of the

common law, which forbids any bargain being made for the resignation of

an office; while some, referring to the prohibition of simony (a word,

perhaps, as much misunderstood and as often misapplied as any in the

language), denounced the arrangement that the retiring prelates were to

have pensions as simoniacal.[295] The most reasonable objection made to

the proceeding was, that such exceptional legislation to meet an

isolated case tended to establish a dangerous precedent, and that, as

there were other men of great age on the bench, it would be better to

effect the end now aimed at by a large general measure providing means

for the retirement of all clergymen, those of inferior rank as well as

bishops, whom age or infirmity might incapacitate. But the general

feeling was against delay. The bill passed, and served in some degree as

a model for that general measure which was soon afterward introduced,

and which, as was suggested on this occasion, provided for an

arrangement similar in principle being carried out whenever a priest

holding any kind of ecclesiastical preferment should become disabled for

the performance of its duties.

There can be no doubt that such legislation was absolutely necessary in

the interests of the Church, taking that expression to include, not the

clergy alone, but the whole congregation of Churchmen. But it introduced

a remarkable change into the system of ecclesiastical peerages, and, so

far, into the constitution of the House of Lords. What was resigned by

the two prelates was not the peerage (they had still the right to be

styled "my lord"), but the seat in the House of Lords, which was a part,

and which had hitherto been regarded as an inseparable part of it, or,

at least (as it should, perhaps, rather be said, since the recent

regulation that the junior bishop should not have a seat was a clear

violation of that principle), which hitherto no one had been able to

dissociate from the peerage after it had been once enjoyed.

The treaties which terminated the war with Russia were not concluded

till the spring of 1856; and it was well, indeed, that the country had

no longer a foreign war on her hands, for a twelvemonth had scarcely

elapsed when the very continuation of her existence as a great Eastern

power was suddenly imperilled by what, regarded in one aspect, was a

mutiny of her troops on a most extensive scale; in another, a civil war,

waged by a combination of native princes, Hindoo as well as

Mohammedan,[296] for the total extinction of our power, and the

expulsion of the British race from Bengal. As early as the first week of

February several commanders of regiments and other authorities received

warnings of the organization of a wide conspiracy against our power; and

in the second week of May the troops at Meerut broke into open mutiny,

set fire to the public buildings, murdered their officers, and even

their wives and children, and then marched off to Delhi, where the

garrison was prepared to receive them with open arms, and to imitate

their atrocities. The contagion spread, and in a few weeks nearly all

Bengal was in arms. In one or two instances the native chiefs stood by

us, but the greater number joined the insurgents, some from the desire

to throw off our yoke, but others, probably, from constraint and through

fear. Whatever were their motives, before the end of June nearly all the

principal cities and fortresses of Bengal, up to the very gates of

Calcutta, were in the hands of the insurgents, the chief exception being

at the great city of Lucknow, where, though the mutineers got possession

of the city, a British garrison held the Residency, in the centre; and,

maintaining themselves with heroic fortitude, unsurpassed in all the

history of war, for nearly nine months, contributed more than any other

body of men to the final suppression of the revolt. It would be beside

our purpose here to dwell upon the great deeds by which in that terrible

year our army, in all its branches, maintained its old renown; upon the

recapture of Delhi; the deliverance of the incomparable defenders and

preservers of Lucknow; the exploits of Lawrence, and Inglis, and

Havelock, and Outram, and Peel, and Campbell; and, if we are forced to

deny ourselves the proud gratification of dwelling on their combined

heroism and wisdom, we may for the same reason be spared the pain of

recounting the horrid cruelties wreaked in too many instances not only

on the officers who fell into the rebels' hands, and on the civil

magistrates, but on the helpless women and children. In the first

excitement of fear and horror those cruelties were, no doubt, greatly

exaggerated, but still enough remains proved to stamp the insurrection

as one branding with the foulest disgrace the race which perpetrated and

exulted in them.

It was not till the last week of 1858 that the last sparks of rebellion

were finally extinguished by the defeat in Oude of the last body of

rebels who remained in arms, and the flight of the remnant of their

force across the frontier of Nepaul; but, even before that day came, the

ministry at home had been led to see the necessity of putting the

government of the country for the future on a different footing. It

could hardly be doubted that the prompt suppression of a revolt of so

unprecedented a magnitude, and the proof given in the course of our

operations that the British soldier still maintained the same

superiority over the native trooper as in the days of Clive, had

heightened our reputation and the belief of our power among the native

tribes. But, speedily and decisively crushed though it had been, the

revolt had given too terrible a proof of the inconstancy and treachery

of the native tribes not to act as a warning to our statesmen; and the

reflection that was thus forced upon them showed that a company of

merchants, however distinguished by general courage and sagacity they

had shown themselves, was no longer qualified to exercise imperial

dominion over a territory which now extended over more than a million of

square miles, and more than a hundred and fifty millions of native

subjects.

Accordingly, in the first week of the session of 1858, Lord Palmerston,

as Prime-minister, introduced a bill to transfer the government of

British India from the East India Company to the crown. It was natural

that the principle of such a measure should be opposed by the Directors

of the Company, though it was supported by more than one person who had

held high civil office in India; and equally natural that the

arrangement of its details should call forth a minute and rigorous

examination, and on many points a very determined opposition. We need

not, however, say more about this bill, since circumstances prevented

its being proceeded with; and the history of those which succeeded it is

now only worth referring to as showing the extreme difficulty of the

task of framing a government on new principles for a dependency of such

vast magnitude and importance.[297]

Lord Palmerston's bill was dropped, in consequence of the fall of his

ministry, before the time came for its second reading; but the

discussion on it had to some extent smoothed the way for that of his

successor, Lord Derby. A great impression on the Parliament, and on the

country in general, had been made by a very able speech of Sir G.C.

Lewis, Chancellor of the Exchequer. He traced the whole history of the

Indian government from the day of Plassy, and substantiated the right of

the home government and Parliament to remodel it as they might judge

best, by proving that ever since the passing of Pitt's first bill, in

1784, the Company had been constantly subject to Parliamentary control.

He showed, too, most convincingly, that a petition which the Company had

presented to the House of Commons, deprecating any change in the

existing system which should tend to diminish the authority of the

Directors, was based on one great fallacy--speaking, as it did, of the

Company as one and indivisible, and unchanged in character, functions,

and influence, down to the date of the last renewal of its charter, only

five years previously; whereas the truth was, that in the one hundred

years since Plassy the system had undergone as many changes as the

English constitution between the Heptarchy and the reign of Queen

Victoria.

He had thus removed some of the obstacles out of the way of the measure

of the new government, though Lord Derby would have preferred postponing

it till tranquillity should have been restored to the country by the

complete suppression of the revolt, had not the large majority[298]

which had sanctioned the introduction of Lord Palmerston's bill, in his

opinion, "placed the Company in such a situation that they could no

longer command the same amount of public confidence and public support

as they were entitled to receive previously to that vote of the House of

Commons." It may be added that the first bill on the subject which was

introduced by his government bore evident marks of the difficulties

under which it was framed--difficulties existing from the unexpected

suddenness of his accession to office; so that, after a not very short

discussion, it was eventually withdrawn, and it was not till the end of

June that the measure which was finally adopted was introduced.

The leading enactments of the measure[299] provided that for the future

the government of India, described as having been hitherto vested in, or

exercised by, the Company in trust for her Majesty, should be vested in

her Majesty, and exercised in her name; that one of her Majesty's

principal Secretaries of State should have and perform all such powers

and duties relating to the government or revenues of India as had

formerly belonged to the Court of Directors, as the Court of Proprietors

of the Company; that a Council of the Governor-general should be

established, consisting of fifteen members, seven of whom should be

appointed by the Court of Directors, being persons who were, or had

formerly been, Directors of the Company, and eight should be nominated

by the crown. And as to both classes, it was provided that the majority

should consist of persons who had served or resided in India for ten

years at the least, and should not have left India more than ten years

when appointed. They were to hold their offices during good behavior, to

receive salaries, and to be entitled to retiring pensions, but to be

incapable of sitting in Parliament. The appointment of Governor-general

and Governor of each Presidency was to belong to the crown. The

expenditure of the revenues of India, both in India and elsewhere, was

to be subject to the control of the Secretary of State in Council; other

clauses provided for the dividends of the Company, for the admission of

persons into the civil service; and, with reference to existing

establishments, one clause provided that "the Indian military and naval

forces should remain under existing conditions of service."

This last clause was strongly objected to by the Queen,[300] as

"inconsistent with her constitutional position as head of the army,

which required that the Commander-in-chief should be put in

communication with the new Secretary of State for India, in the same

manner in which he is placed with regard to the troops at home or in the

colonies toward the Secretary of State for War.... With regard to the

whole army, whether English or Indian, there could, with due regard to

the public interest, be only one head and one general command." She

yielded her opinion, however, to the resolute objections of the

Prime-minister, with whom on this point his predecessor,[301] Lord

Palmerston, agreed; but the result proved the superior soundness of her

Majesty's view. It was not only a most anomalous arrangement, since the

supreme control of all the warlike forces was one of the most

inalienable prerogatives of the crown, but it had the strange fault of

preserving the double government in the case in which, above all others,

unity of system and unity of command were most indispensable. And, what

weighed more than either consideration with the generally practical

views of English statesmen, it was from the beginning found to work

badly, creating, as it did, great and mischievous jealousies between the

two divisions, the Royal and the Indian army. It was found that all the

generals then in the highest commands in India--Lord Clyde (Sir Colin

Campbell having been ennobled by that title), Sir Hugh Rose, and Sir

William Mansfield--strongly disapproved of it, and recommended a change;

and consequently, in the summer of 1860, Lord Palmerston, who in the

mean while had returned to the Treasury, came round to the Queen's view

of the subject, and a new act was passed which amalgamated the two

armies into one Imperial army, taking its turn of duty throughout all

parts of the British empire.[302]

A letter addressed by Lord Palmerston to the Queen in the autumn of

1857, which appears to have been his first statement to her Majesty of

the opinion which he had formed of the necessity of abolishing the

governing authority of the Company, states the principal arguments in

favor of such a measure with great clearness, as arising from "the

inconvenience and difficulty of administering the government of a vast

country on the other side of the globe by means of two cabinets, the one

responsible to the crown and Parliament, the other only responsible to

the holders of Indian stock, meeting for a few hours three or four times

a year, which had been shown by the events of the year to be no longer

tolerable." His disapproval of parts of Lord Ellenborough's policy

probably prevented him from alluding to his recall from India by the

Directors, in direct defiance of the opinion of the government,[303]

though that strange step can hardly have been absent from his mind. But,

in fact, the case for taking the whole rule of so vast a dominion wholly

into the hands of the Queen's government at home was so irresistible,

that it did not require to be strengthened by reference to any

individual instances of inconvenience. When the double government was

originally established, the English in India were still but a small

mercantile community, with very little territory beyond that in the

immediate neighborhood of its three chief cities. Of the conduct of the

affairs of such a body, still almost confined to commerce, the chief

share might not unreasonably be left to the merchants themselves,

subject to such supervision on the part of the government at home as was

implied in the very name of the department invested with that

supervision, the Board of Control, which, as Pitt explained the name,

was meant to show that it was not to be, like the measure proposed by

the Coalition Ministry, a board of political influence.[304] But the

case was wholly altered when British India reached from Point de Galle

to the Himalayas, and spread beyond the Ganges on the east, to beyond

the Indus on the west; when the policy adopted in India often influenced

our dealings with European states, and when the force required for the

protection of those vast interests exceeded the numbers of the royal

army. India, too, is a country the climate of which prevents our

countrymen from emigrating to it as settlers, as they do to Canada or

Australia, and where, consequently, the English residents are, and

always must be, a mere handful in comparison with the millions of

natives. In such a case their government must at all times rest mainly

on opinion, on the belief in the pre-eminent power of the ruler; and it

was obvious that that belief would be greatly fortified by the sovereign

of Britain becoming that ruler.[305] The great rajahs cordially

recognized the value of the transfer of power considered in this light,

and felt their own dignity enhanced by becoming the vassals of the

sovereign herself.

Turning to French affairs, a brilliant French writer has remarked, that

his countrymen are, of all peoples, the least suited to be conspirators,

since none of them can ever keep a secret. But it was the ill-fortune of

Louis Napoleon that he had provoked enmities, not only among his own

countrymen, but among the republican fanatics of other nations also, who

saw in his zeal for absolute authority the greatest obstacle to their

designs, which aimed at the overthrow of every established government on

the Continent, and shrunk from no crimes which they conceived to be

calculated to promote their object. To free themselves from such an

antagonist, the most wholesale murders seemed by no means too large a

price. And in the middle of January, as the Emperor and Empress were

going to the Opera, a prodigious explosion took place almost beneath the

wheels of their carriage, from the effect of which they themselves had a

most narrow escape, both being struck in the face by splinters, the

aide-de-camp in their carriage also being severely wounded on the head;

while their escort and attendants were struck down on all sides, ten

being killed and above one hundred and fifty wounded.[306] It was soon

found out that the authors of this atrocious crime were four Italians,

of whom a man named Orsini was the chief, and that he, who had but

recently escaped from a prison in Mantua, had fled from that town to

England, and had there concocted all the details of his plot, and had

procured the shells which had been his instruments.

It was not unnatural that so atrocious a crime, causing such wide-spread

destruction, should awaken great excitement in France, and in many

quarters violent reclamations against England and her laws, which

enabled foreign plotters to make her a starting-place for their

nefarious schemes. Even in the French Chambers very bitter language was

used on the subject by some of the most influential Deputies, for which

our ministers were disposed to make allowance, Lord Clarendon, the

Foreign Secretary, writing to the Prince Consort that "it was not to be

expected that foreigners, who see that assassins go and come here as

they please, and that conspiracies may be hatched in England with

impunity, should think our laws and policy friendly to other countries,

or appreciate the extreme difficulty of making any change in our

system."[307]

But a different feeling was roused by a despatch of the French Secretary

of State to the ambassador here, which seemed to impute to this country

that it deliberately sheltered and countenanced men by whose writings

"assassination was elevated into a doctrine openly preached, and carried

into practice by reiterated attacks" upon the person of the French

sovereign, and asked, in language which had rather an imperious tone,

"Ought the English Legislature to contribute to the designs of men who

were not mere fugitives, but assassins, and continue to shelter persons

who place themselves beyond the pale of common right, and under the ban

of humanity? Her Britannic Majesty's Government can assist us in

averting a repetition of such guilty enterprises, by affording us a

guarantee of security which no state can refuse to a neighboring state,

and which we are justified in expecting from an ally. Fully relying,

moreover, on the profound sagacity of the English Cabinet, we refrain

from indicating in any way the measures which it may seem fit to take in

order to comply with this wish. We confidently leave it to decide on the

course which it shall deem best fitted to the end in view." Still,

though the charge that our Legislature contributed to the designs of

assassins was some departure from the measured language more usual in

diplomatic communications between friendly powers, under the

circumstances this remonstrance might have been borne with. Unluckily,

it was not all, nor the worst, that we were called upon to bear. A few

days afterward some addresses to the Emperor from different military

corps were published in the _Moniteur_, which not only poured forth

bitter reproaches against the whole English nation, but demanded to be

led to an invasion of the country, "as an infamous haunt for the

carrying out of infernal machinations." Political addresses seem to our

ideas inconsistent with military discipline; but the army had been

permitted, and even encouraged, to make them ever since the days of the

Consulate, though such addresses never received the recognition of a

publication in the official journal till they had been subjected to

careful revision, and, if necessary, expurgation. On this occasion,

however, that supervision had been carelessly performed, and the

offensive passages were left standing, though, when the Emperor learned

the indignation which they had excited even among his well-wishers in

England, he instructed his ambassador to apologize for their retention

and publication, as an act of inadvertence on the part of the officials

whose duty it had been to revise such documents. So far all was well.

And had the English ministers replied to the despatch of M. de Persigny

in firm and temperate language, they would have escaped the difficulties

which eventually overthrew them. There was no doubt that, according to

diplomatic usage, a written despatch formally communicated to the

Secretary of State required a written reply.

Unfortunately, a written reply was not given. Lord Clarendon was too

apprehensive of the mischief which might possibly arise from a

protracted discussion, leading, perhaps, to an angry controversy; and

under the influence of this feeling contented himself, when the despatch

was presented, with giving the ambassador a verbal answer, that "no

consideration on earth would induce Parliament to pass a measure for the

extradition of foreign political refugees; that our asylum could not be

infringed, and that we adhered to certain principles on that subject

which were so old and so sacred that they could not be touched;"[308]

adding, however, at the same time an assurance that the Attorney-general

was already, at his request, examining our law of conspiracy, to see

whether it was sufficiently comprehensive or stringent. The purport of

this answer was all that could have been desired; but there was a very

general impression that the omission to reply by a written despatch was

a sacrifice of the national dignity, if not an unworthy submission to

scarcely disguised menace; though at the same time there was also a

feeling among both parties in Parliament that our laws with respect to

the conduct of foreigners residing among us were, perhaps, susceptible

of improvement. On the very first night of the session, in allusion to

the attack on the French Emperor, Lord Derby had said that "he could

wish to hear the opinion of the ministers whether the existing laws of

this country were adequate to afford security for the lives of foreign

princes against plots contrived in this country; and, if they were not,

whether they might not be amended, so as to meet the case of such crimes

as had recently been perpetrated, which were so heinous and revolting to

every feeling of humanity." And even before that speech the ministers

had applied themselves to frame a measure to amend the law, which in the

second week of February the Prime-minister himself introduced to the

House of Commons.

It was read a first time, though not without some opposition; but before

it arrived at the second reading, though only a week afterward, the

feeling of the country, reflected in this instance by the House, had

become so inflamed, that the measure was not discussed on its own

merits, but on the point whether, since no other answer had been given

to the French despatch, this must not be regarded as the ministerial

answer, and therefore whether it were such an answer as it befitted

England to send. Had it been examined on its own merits solely, it could

hardly have provoked much adverse criticism. It was entitled, "A bill to

amend the law with relation to the crime of conspiracy to commit

murder," and it merely proposed to establish in England a law which had

long existed in Ireland. Hitherto, as Lord Palmerston explained the

matter, England had treated conspiracy to murder as a misdemeanor,

punishable with fine and imprisonment. In Ireland it had long been a

capital crime; and, though he did not propose to assimilate the English

to the Irish statute in all its severity, he proposed to enact that

conspiracy to murder should be a felony, punishable with penal

servitude, by whomsoever the conspiracy might be concocted, or wherever

the crime might be designed to be committed.

The principle of such a law, supported as it was by the precedent of

Ireland, could hardly be resisted. And Mr. Walpole, who had been

Home-secretary in Lord Derby's ministry, avowed his determination to

support the bill, "as being right in principle." But even he limited his

promise of support by a condition "that the honor of England should be

previously vindicated;" arguing that the French despatch bore the

character of a demand, based upon allegations which were contrary to

truth, and which, therefore, the ministers were bound to repudiate; and

that to pass such a bill without putting on record a formal denial of

those allegations would, in the general view of Europe, imply a

confession that to them we had no answer to give. And it was this

consideration which eventually determined the decision of the House, Mr.

Disraeli, who closed the debate on his side, condemning the conduct of

the ministers as "perplexed, timid, confused, wanting in dignity and

self-respect. In not replying to the despatch, they had lost a great

opportunity of asserting the principles of public law." The House,

taking his view of their conduct, threw out the bill by a majority of

nineteen;[309] and the ministry resigned, and was succeeded by one under

the presidency of Lord Derby.

Many of those who on this occasion combined to form the majority had

denounced the bill, as an infringement of the principles of our

constitution. It is, however, evident that, had it passed, it would not

have deserved such a description. It would in no degree whatever have

deprived a foreign resident of safety and the protection of English law,

so long as he should obey that law; and that is all the indulgence that

the constitution ever gave or ought to give. Foreigners had always been

amenable to our courts of justice for any violation of the law. And Lord

Palmerston's bill not only went no farther than removing a certain class

of offences from the category of misdemeanors to that of felonies, but

it also imposed no liability in that respect on foreigners which it did

not at the same time impose on all the Queen's subjects. Indeed, the

bill was so moderate, and the improvement it proposed so desirable,

that, in a subsequent discussion in the House of Lords, Lord Campbell,

the Chief-justice, expressed a hope that Lord Derby's government would

take it up; though Lord Derby, in view of the existing feeling of the

country on the subject, prudently forbore to act on that suggestion.

But, as one of Orsini's most guilty accomplices, a man named Bernard,

was still in London, he caused him to be indicted for murder, as having

incurred that guilt as accessary to the death of some whom the explosion

had killed. The excitement on the question had, however, not died away

when the trial came on; and, though it will, probably, be generally

admitted that the evidence was sufficiently clear, Bernard was

acquitted.

Lord Derby, however, did not long retain his office. Indeed, the Earl

was so conscious that, on questions of general policy, the House of

Commons was inclined to views differing from his own, that he would have

preferred declining the task of forming a ministry, had he not conceived

that, in the difficulty in which the Queen was placed by recent

circumstances, he was bound by his duty to make the attempt, even if the

result of it were merely to obtain a kind of respite for his sovereign

and the country, which might give time for the present excitement of

feeling to calm down. He was not deceived in his forebodings of his

inability to maintain his position. In the course of the next spring he

was twice defeated in the House of Commons--once by the House which he

found in existence, and a second time in one which was the fruit of a

general election. And in the summer of 1859 Lord Palmerston returned to

office, with power increased by the junction of many of those who had

helped to overthrow him in 1858, but who now combined with him to strike

a similar blow at his Conservative successor.

Yet, brief as was Lord Derby's tenure of power, it was made memorable by

the commencement of a movement which cannot be regarded as devoid of

constitutional importance, since, though originally it was only designed

to supply a temporary re-enforcement to our ancient constitutional

forces, the regular army and the militia, it has eventually created a

force which, to the great honor of those who constitute it, has become a

permanent addition to them. In the great war against Revolutionary

France, when it was generally believed that those who held rule in Paris

were contemplating an invasion of these islands, Pitt, as we have seen,

had encouraged the formation of corps of volunteers, which continued to

be of great use till the very end of the war, by performing, in

conjunction with the militia, a great portion of the home duties which

must otherwise have fallen on the line regiments, and thus disengaging

the regular army for service on the Continent. There was now no such

formidable enemy to be dreaded as the first Napoleon, but in every part

of Europe affairs were in a state so unquiet that every kingdom seemed

at times on the very brink of war; and since, if it should once break

out, no one could feel confident that we should not be involved in it,

or, if we should be, who would be our allies or our enemies, measures of

precaution and self-defence seemed as needful now as they had been sixty

years before. Our boldest statesmen were disquieted and anxious; and the

nation at large, sharing their uneasiness, kindled with the feeling that

it was a time to show that the present generation inherited the

self-denying patriotism of their fathers. Leaders were not wanting again

to prompt the formation of a volunteer force. The government at once saw

the value of the scheme. Fortunately, the Secretary for War, Colonel

Peel, happened to be an old soldier, a veteran who had learned the art

of war under Wellington himself; and he, having great talents for

organization, placed the force from its infancy on a sound footing. How

thoroughly the movement harmonized with the martial spirit of the

nation--to which, indeed, it owed its birth--is shown by the history of

the force, which now, above twenty years after its original formation,

maintains its full numbers and yearly improves its efficiency. Though

there has not for many years been any apprehension of war, above one

hundred and twenty thousand men still annually devote no small portion

of their time to the acquisition of military discipline and science, and

that so successfully, that, by the testimony of the most experienced

judges, they have attained a degree of efficiency which, if the

necessity for their services should ever arise, would render them

valuable and worthy comrades to the more regularly trained army. Lord

Derby retired from office while the force was still in its infancy; but

Lord Palmerston was equally sensible of its value, and gave a farther

proof of his appreciation of the vast importance of measures of national

defence by the vigor with which he carried out the recommendations of a

royal commission which had been appointed by the preceding ministry to

investigate the condition of our national defences. Its report had

pointed out the absolute necessity of an improved system of protection

for our great dockyards and arsenals, which, from their position on the

coast, were more liable to attack than inland fortresses would have

been, had we had such. And, in accordance with that warning, in the

summer of 1860, Lord Palmerston proposed the grant of a large sum of

money for the fortification of our chief dockyards. It was opposed on a

strange variety of grounds; some arguing that the proposed

fortifications were superfluous, because our navy was the defence to

which the nation was wont deservedly to trust; some that they were

needless, because no other nation was in a condition to attack us;

others that they were disgraceful, because it was un-English and mean to

skulk behind stone walls, and because Lycurgus had refused to trust to

stone walls for the safety of Sparta; and one member, the chief

spokesman of a new and small party, commonly known as the

"peace-at-any-price party," boldly denounced the members of the

commission as a set of "lunatics" for framing such a report, and the

ministers as guilty of "contemptible cowardice" for suggesting to the

nation that there was any danger in being undefended. But the ministry

prevailed by a large majority;[310] the money was voted, and the nation

in general warmly approved of the measure. As Lord Palmerston

subsequently expressed it, "the government, the Parliament, and the

nation acted in harmonious concert"[311] on the subject.

The Constitutional History of England from 1760 to 1860 · 第 14 / 15 章