Produced by Mike Alder and Sue Asscher
THE MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS AND SPEECHES OF LORD MACAULAY.
Lord Macaulay's Speeches
By Thomas Babington Macaulay
VOLUME IV.
LORD MACAULAY'S SPEECHES.
TO HENRY, MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE
THESE SPEECHES ARE DEDICATED BY HIS GRATEFUL
AND AFFECTIONATE FRIEND
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.
PREFACE.
It was most reluctantly that I determined to suspend, during the last
autumn, a work which is the business and the pleasure of my life,
in order to prepare these Speeches for publication; and it is most
reluctantly that I now give them to the world. Even if I estimated their
oratorical merit much more highly than I do, I should not willingly have
revived, in the quiet times in which we are so happy as to live, the
memory of those fierce contentions in which too many years of my public
life were passed. Many expressions which, when society was convulsed
by political dissensions, and when the foundations of government were
shaking, were heard by an excited audience with sympathy and applause,
may, now that the passions of all parties have subsided, be thought
intemperate and acrimonious. It was especially painful to me to find
myself under the necessity of recalling to my own recollection, and to
the recollection of others, the keen encounters which took place between
the late Sir Robert Peel and myself. Some parts of the conduct of that
eminent man I must always think deserving of serious blame. But, on a
calm review of his long and chequered public life, I acknowledge, with
sincere pleasure, that his faults were much more than redeemed by great
virtues, great sacrifices, and great services. My political hostility to
him was never in the smallest degree tainted by personal ill-will. After
his fall from power a cordial reconciliation took place between us: I
admired the wisdom, the moderation, the disinterested patriotism, which
he invariably showed during the last and best years of his life; I
lamented his untimely death, as both a private and a public calamity;
and I earnestly wished that the sharp words which had sometimes been
exchanged between us might be forgotten.
Unhappily an act, for which the law affords no redress, but which I
have no hesitation in pronouncing to be a gross injury to me and a gross
fraud on the public, has compelled me to do what I should never have
done willingly. A bookseller, named Vizetelly, who seems to aspire to
that sort of distinction which Curll enjoyed a hundred and twenty years
ago, thought fit, without asking my consent, without even giving me any
notice, to announce an edition of my Speeches, and was not ashamed to
tell the world in his advertisement that he published them by special
license. When the book appeared, I found that it contained fifty-six
speeches, said to have been delivered by me in the House of Commons. Of
these speeches a few were reprinted from reports which I had corrected
for the Mirror of Parliament or the Parliamentary Debates, and were
therefore, with the exception of some errors of the pen and the press,
correctly given. The rest bear scarcely the faintest resemblance to
the speeches which I really made. The substance of what I said
is perpetually misrepresented. The connection of the arguments is
altogether lost. Extravagant blunders are put into my mouth in almost
every page. An editor who was not grossly ignorant would have perceived
that no person to whom the House of Commons would listen could possibly
have been guilty of such blunders. An editor who had the smallest
regard for truth, or for the fame of the person whose speeches he had
undertaken to publish, would have had recourse to the various sources of
information which were readily accessible, and, by collating them, would
have produced a book which would at least have contained no absolute
nonsense. But I have unfortunately had an editor whose only object was
to make a few pounds, and who was willing to sacrifice to that object my
reputation and his own. He took the very worst report extant, compared
it with no other report, removed no blemish however obvious or however
ludicrous, gave to the world some hundreds of pages utterly contemptible
both in matter and manner, and prefixed my name to them. The least that
he should have done was to consult the files of The Times newspaper.
I have frequently done so, when I have noticed in his book any passage
more than ordinarily absurd; and I have almost invariably found that
in The Times newspaper, my meaning had been correctly reported, though
often in words different from those which I had used.
I could fill a volume with instances of the injustice with which I have
been treated. But I will confine myself to a single speech, the speech
on the Dissenters' Chapels Bill. I have selected that speech, not
because Mr Vizetelly's version of that speech is worse than his versions
of thirty or forty other speeches, but because I have before me a report
of that speech which an honest and diligent editor would have thought it
his first duty to consult. The report of which I speak was published by
the Unitarian Dissenters, who were naturally desirous that there should
be an accurate record of what had passed in a debate deeply interesting
to them. It was not corrected by me: but it generally, though not
uniformly, exhibits with fidelity the substance of what I said.
Mr Vizetelly makes me say that the principle of our Statutes of
Limitation was to be found in the legislation of the Mexicans and
Peruvians. That is a matter about which, as I know nothing, I certainly
said nothing. Neither in The Times nor in the Unitarian report is there
anything about Mexico or Peru.
Mr Vizetelly next makes me say that the principle of limitation is found
"amongst the Pandects of the Benares." Did my editor believe that I
uttered these words, and that the House of Commons listened patiently
to them? If he did, what must be thought of his understanding? If he did
not, was it the part of an honest man to publish such gibberish as mine?
The most charitable supposition, which I therefore gladly adopt, is
that Mr Vizetelly saw nothing absurd in the expression which he has
attributed to me. The Benares he probably supposes to be some Oriental
nation. What he supposes their Pandects to be I shall not presume to
guess. If he had examined The Times, he would have found no trace of the
passage. The reporter, probably, did not catch what I said, and, being
more veracious than Mr Vizetelly, did not choose to ascribe to me what
I did not say. If Mr Vizetelly had consulted the Unitarian report, he
would have seen that I spoke of the Pundits of Benares; and he might,
without any very long or costly research, have learned where Benares is,
and what a Pundit is.
Mr Vizetelly then represents me as giving the House of Commons some very
extraordinary information about both the Calvinistic and the Arminian
Methodists. He makes me say that Whitfield held and taught that the
connection between Church and State was sinful. Whitfield never held
or taught any such thing; nor was I so grossly ignorant of the life and
character of that remarkable man as to impute to him a doctrine which he
would have abhorred. Here again, both in The Times and in the Unitarian
report, the substance of what I said is correctly given.
Mr Vizetelly proceeds to put into my mouth a curious account of the
polity of the Wesleyan Methodists. He makes me say that, after John
Wesley's death, "the feeling in favour of the lay administration of the
Sacrament became very strong and very general: a Conference was applied
for, was constituted, and, after some discussion, it was determined that
the request should be granted." Such folly could have been uttered only
by a person profoundly ignorant of the history of Methodism. Certainly
nothing of the sort was ever uttered by me; and nothing of the sort will
be found either in The Times or in the Unitarian report.
Mr Vizetelly makes me say that the Great Charter recognises the
principle of limitation, a thing which everybody who has read the Great
Charter knows not to be true. He makes me give an utterly false history
of Lord Nottingham's Occasional Conformity Bill. But I will not weary
my readers by proceeding further. These samples will probably be thought
sufficient. They all lie within a compass of seven or eight pages. It
will be observed that all the faults which I have pointed out are grave
faults of substance. Slighter faults of substance are numerous. As to
faults of syntax and of style, hardly one sentence in a hundred is free
from them.
I cannot permit myself to be exhibited, in this ridiculous and degrading
manner, for the profit of an unprincipled man. I therefore unwillingly,
and in mere self-defence, give this volume to the public. I have
selected, to the best of my judgment, from among my speeches, those
which are the least unworthy to be preserved. Nine of them were
corrected by me while they were still fresh in my memory, and appear
almost word for word as they were spoken. They are the speech of the
second of March 1831, the speech of the twentieth of September 1831,
the speech of the tenth of October 1831, the speech of the sixteenth of
December 1831, the speech on the Anatomy Bill, the speech on the India
Bill, the speech on Serjeant Talfourd's Copyright Bill, the speech on
the Sugar Duties, and the speech on the Irish Church. The substance of
the remaining speeches I have given with perfect ingenuousness. I have
not made alterations for the purpose of saving my own reputation either
for consistency or for foresight. I have not softened down the strong
terms in which I formerly expressed opinions which time and thought may
have modified; nor have I retouched my predictions in order to make them
correspond with subsequent events. Had I represented myself as speaking
in 1831, in 1840, or in 1845, as I should speak in 1853, I should have
deprived my book of its chief value. This volume is now at least a
strictly honest record of opinions and reasonings which were heard
with favour by a large part of the Commons of England at some important
conjunctures; and such a record, however low it may stand in the
estimation of the literary critic, cannot but be of use to the
historian.
I do not pretend to give with accuracy the diction of those speeches
which I did not myself correct within a week after they were delivered.
Many expressions, and a few paragraphs, linger in my memory. But
the rest, including much that had been carefully premeditated, is
irrecoverably lost. Nor have I, in this part of my task, derived much
assistance from any report. My delivery is, I believe, too rapid. Very
able shorthand writers have sometimes complained that they could not
follow me, and have contented themselves with setting down the substance
of what I said. As I am unable to recall the precise words which I used,
I have done my best to put my meaning into words which I might have
used.
I have only, in conclusion, to beg that the readers of this Preface will
pardon an egotism which a great wrong has made necessary, and which is
quite as disagreeable to myself as it can be to them.
CONTENTS.
Parliamentary Reform. (March 2, 1831)
Parliamentary Reform. (July 5, 1831)
Parliamentary Reform. (September 20, 1831)
Parliamentary Reform. (October 10, 1831)
Parliamentary Reform. (December 16, 1831)
Anatomy Bill. (February 27, 1832)
Parliamentary Reform. (February 28, 1832)
Repeal of the Union with Ireland. (February 6, 1833)
Jewish Disabilities. (April 17, 1833)
Government of India. (July 10, 1833)
Edinburgh Election, 1839. (May 29, 1839)
Confidence in the Ministry of Lord Melbourne. (January 29, 1840)
War with China. (April 7, 1840)
Copyright. (February 5, 1841)
Copyright. (April 6, 1842)
The People's Charter. (May 3, 1842)
The Gates of Somnauth. (March 9, 1843)
The State of Ireland. (February 19, 1844)
Dissenters' Chapels Bill. (June 6, 1844)
The Sugar Duties. (February 26, 1845)
Maynooth. (April 14, 1845)
The Church of Ireland. (April 23, 1845)
Theological Tests in the Scotch Universities. (July 9, 1845)
Corn Laws. (December 2, 1845)
The Ten Hours Bill. (May 22, 1846)
The Literature of Britain. (November 4, 1846)
Education. (April 19, 1847)
Inaugural Speech at Glasgow College. (March 21, 1849)
Re-election to Parliament. (November 2, 1852)
Exclusion of Judges from the House of Commons. (June 1, 1853)
SPEECHES, ETC.
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (MARCH 2, 1831) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS ON THE 2D OF MARCH, 1831.
On Tuesday, the first of March, 1831, Lord John Russell moved the House
of Commons for leave to bring in a bill to amend the representation of
the people in England and Wales. The discussion occupied seven nights.
At length, on the morning of Thursday, the tenth of March, the motion
was carried without a division. The following speech was made on the
second night of the debate.
It is a circumstance, Sir, of happy augury for the motion before
the House, that almost all those who have opposed it have declared
themselves hostile on principle to Parliamentary Reform. Two Members,
I think, have confessed that, though they disapprove of the plan now
submitted to us, they are forced to admit the necessity of a change in
the Representative system. Yet even those gentleman have used, as far as
I have observed, no arguments which would not apply as strongly to the
most moderate change as to that which has been proposed by His Majesty's
Government. I say, Sir, that I consider this as a circumstance of happy
augury. For what I feared was, not the opposition of those who are
averse to all Reform, but the disunion of reformers. I knew that, during
three months, every reformer had been employed in conjecturing what the
plan of the Government would be. I knew that every reformer had imagined
in his own mind a scheme differing doubtless in some points from that
which my noble friend, the Paymaster of the Forces, has developed. I
felt therefore great apprehension that one person would be dissatisfied
with one part of the bill, that another person would be dissatisfied
with another part, and that thus our whole strength would be wasted in
internal dissensions. That apprehension is now at an end. I have seen
with delight the perfect concord which prevails among all who deserve
the name of reformers in this House; and I trust that I may consider it
as an omen of the concord which will prevail among reformers throughout
the country. I will not, Sir, at present express any opinion as to the
details of the bill; but, having during the last twenty-four hours given
the most diligent consideration to its general principles, I have no
hesitation in pronouncing it a wise, noble, and comprehensive measure,
skilfully framed for the healing of great distempers, for the securing
at once of the public liberties, and of the public repose, and for the
reconciling and knitting together of all the orders of the State.
The honourable Baronet who has just sat down (Sir John Walsh.), has
told us, that the Ministers have attempted to unite two inconsistent
principles in one abortive measure. Those were his very words. He
thinks, if I understand him rightly, that we ought either to leave
the representative system such as it is, or to make it perfectly
symmetrical. I think, Sir, that the Ministers would have acted unwisely
if they had taken either course. Their principle is plain, rational, and
consistent. It is this, to admit the middle class to a large and
direct share in the representation, without any violent shock to the
institutions of our country. I understand those cheers: but surely the
gentlemen who utter them will allow that the change which will be made
in our institutions by this bill is far less violent than that which,
according to the honourable Baronet, ought to be made if we make any
Reform at all. I praise the Ministers for not attempting, at the present
time, to make the representation uniform. I praise them for not effacing
the old distinction between the towns and the counties, and for not
assigning Members to districts, according to the American practice, by
the Rule of Three. The Government has, in my opinion, done all that was
necessary for the removing of a great practical evil, and no more than
was necessary.
I consider this, Sir, as a practical question. I rest my opinion on
no general theory of government. I distrust all general theories of
government. I will not positively say, that there is any form of polity
which may not, in some conceivable circumstances, be the best possible.
I believe that there are societies in which every man may safely be
admitted to vote. Gentlemen may cheer, but such is my opinion. I say,
Sir, that there are countries in which the condition of the labouring
classes is such that they may safely be intrusted with the right of
electing Members of the Legislature. If the labourers of England were
in that state in which I, from my soul, wish to see them, if employment
were always plentiful, wages always high, food always cheap, if a large
family were considered not as an encumbrance but as a blessing, the
principal objections to Universal Suffrage would, I think, be removed.
Universal Suffrage exists in the United States, without producing any
very frightful consequences; and I do not believe that the people of
those States, or of any part of the world, are in any good quality
naturally superior to our own countrymen. But, unhappily, the labouring
classes in England, and in all old countries, are occasionally in a
state of great distress. Some of the causes of this distress are, I
fear, beyond the control of the Government. We know what effect distress
produces, even on people more intelligent than the great body of the
labouring classes can possibly be. We know that it makes even wise men
irritable, unreasonable, credulous, eager for immediate relief, heedless
of remote consequences. There is no quackery in medicine, religion, or
politics, which may not impose even on a powerful mind, when that mind
has been disordered by pain or fear. It is therefore no reflection
on the poorer class of Englishmen, who are not, and who cannot in the
nature of things be, highly educated, to say that distress produces on
them its natural effects, those effects which it would produce on the
Americans, or on any other people, that it blinds their judgment, that
it inflames their passions, that it makes them prone to believe those
who flatter them, and to distrust those who would serve them. For the
sake, therefore, of the whole society, for the sake of the labouring
classes themselves, I hold it to be clearly expedient that, in a
country like this, the right of suffrage should depend on a pecuniary
qualification.
But, Sir, every argument which would induce me to oppose Universal
Suffrage, induces me to support the plan which is now before us. I am
opposed to Universal Suffrage, because I think that it would produce a
destructive revolution. I support this plan, because I am sure that it
is our best security against a revolution. The noble Paymaster of the
Forces hinted, delicately indeed and remotely, at this subject. He spoke
of the danger of disappointing the expectations of the nation; and for
this he was charged with threatening the House. Sir, in the year 1817,
the late Lord Londonderry proposed a suspension of the Habeas Corpus
Act. On that occasion he told the House that, unless the measures which
he recommended were adopted, the public peace could not be preserved.
Was he accused of threatening the House? Again, in the year 1819, he
proposed the laws known by the name of the Six Acts. He then told
the House that, unless the executive power were reinforced, all the
institutions of the country would be overturned by popular violence. Was
he then accused of threatening the House? Will any gentleman say that
it is parliamentary and decorous to urge the danger arising from popular
discontent as an argument for severity; but that it is unparliamentary
and indecorous to urge that same danger as an argument for conciliation?
I, Sir, do entertain great apprehension for the fate of my country. I do
in my conscience believe that, unless the plan proposed, or some similar
plan, be speedily adopted, great and terrible calamities will befall us.
Entertaining this opinion, I think myself bound to state it, not as a
threat, but as a reason. I support this bill because it will improve our
institutions; but I support it also because it tends to preserve them.
That we may exclude those whom it is necessary to exclude, we must admit
those whom it may be safe to admit. At present we oppose the schemes of
revolutionists with only one half, with only one quarter of our proper
force. We say, and we say justly, that it is not by mere numbers, but
by property and intelligence, that the nation ought to be governed. Yet,
saying this, we exclude from all share in the government great masses
of property and intelligence, great numbers of those who are most
interested in preserving tranquillity, and who know best how to preserve
it. We do more. We drive over to the side of revolution those whom we
shut out from power. Is this a time when the cause of law and order can
spare one of its natural allies?
My noble friend, the Paymaster of the Forces, happily described the
effect which some parts of our representative system would produce
on the mind of a foreigner, who had heard much of our freedom and
greatness. If, Sir, I wished to make such a foreigner clearly understand
what I consider as the great defects of our system, I would conduct
him through that immense city which lies to the north of Great Russell
Street and Oxford Street, a city superior in size and in population to
the capitals of many mighty kingdoms; and probably superior in opulence,
intelligence, and general respectability, to any city in the world. I
would conduct him through that interminable succession of streets and
squares, all consisting of well built and well furnished houses. I
would make him observe the brilliancy of the shops, and the crowd of
well-appointed equipages. I would show him that magnificent circle of
palaces which surrounds the Regent's Park. I would tell him that the
rental of this district was far greater than that of the whole kingdom
of Scotland, at the time of the Union. And then I would tell him that
this was an unrepresented district. It is needless to give any more
instances. It is needless to speak of Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds,
Sheffield, with no representation, or of Edinburgh and Glasgow with a
mock representation. If a property tax were now imposed on the principle
that no person who had less than a hundred and fifty pounds a year
should contribute, I should not be surprised to find that one half in
number and value of the contributors had no votes at all; and it would,
beyond all doubt, be found that one fiftieth part in number and value of
the contributors had a larger share of the representation than the
other forty-nine fiftieths. This is not government by property. It
is government by certain detached portions and fragments of property,
selected from the rest, and preferred to the rest, on no rational
principle whatever.
To say that such a system is ancient, is no defence. My honourable
friend, the Member for the University of Oxford (Sir Robert Harry
Inglis.), challenges us to show that the Constitution was ever better
than it is. Sir, we are legislators, not antiquaries. The question for
us is, not whether the Constitution was better formerly, but whether we
can make it better now. In fact, however, the system was not in ancient
times by any means so absurd as it is in our age. One noble Lord (Lord
Stormont.) has to-night told us that the town of Aldborough, which he
represents, was not larger in the time of Edward the First than it is at
present. The line of its walls, he assures us, may still be traced. It
is now built up to that line. He argues, therefore, that as the founders
of our representative institutions gave members to Aldborough when it
was as small as it now is, those who would disfranchise it on account
of its smallness have no right to say that they are recurring to the
original principle of our representative institutions. But does the
noble Lord remember the change which has taken place in the country
during the last five centuries? Does he remember how much England has
grown in population, while Aldborough has been standing still? Does
he consider, that in the time of Edward the First, the kingdom did not
contain two millions of inhabitants? It now contains nearly fourteen
millions. A hamlet of the present day would have been a town of some
importance in the time of our early Parliaments. Aldborough may be
absolutely as considerable a place as ever. But compared with the
kingdom, it is much less considerable, by the noble Lord's own showing,
than when it first elected burgesses. My honourable friend, the Member
for the University of Oxford, has collected numerous instances of the
tyranny which the kings and nobles anciently exercised, both over this
House and over the electors. It is not strange that, in times
when nothing was held sacred, the rights of the people, and of the
representatives of the people, should not have been held sacred. The
proceedings which my honourable friend has mentioned, no more prove
that, by the ancient constitution of the realm, this House ought to be
a tool of the king and of the aristocracy, than the Benevolences and the
Shipmoney prove their own legality, or than those unjustifiable arrests
which took place long after the ratification of the great Charter
and even after the Petition of Right, prove that the subject was not
anciently entitled to his personal liberty. We talk of the wisdom of
our ancestors: and in one respect at least they were wiser than we. They
legislated for their own times. They looked at the England which was
before them. They did not think it necessary to give twice as many
Members to York as they gave to London, because York had been the
capital of Britain in the time of Constantius Chlorus; and they would
have been amazed indeed if they had foreseen, that a city of more than
a hundred thousand inhabitants would be left without Representatives in
the nineteenth century, merely because it stood on ground which in
the thirteenth century had been occupied by a few huts. They framed
a representative system, which, though not without defects and
irregularities, was well adapted to the state of England in their time.
But a great revolution took place. The character of the old corporations
changed. New forms of property came into existence. New portions of
society rose into importance. There were in our rural districts rich
cultivators, who were not freeholders. There were in our capital rich
traders, who were not liverymen. Towns shrank into villages. Villages
swelled into cities larger than the London of the Plantagenets.
Unhappily while the natural growth of society went on, the artificial
polity continued unchanged. The ancient form of the representation
remained; and precisely because the form remained, the spirit departed.
Then came that pressure almost to bursting, the new wine in the old
bottles, the new society under the old institutions. It is now time for
us to pay a decent, a rational, a manly reverence to our ancestors, not
by superstitiously adhering to what they, in other circumstances, did,
but by doing what they, in our circumstances, would have done. All
history is full of revolutions, produced by causes similar to those
which are now operating in England. A portion of the community which had
been of no account expands and becomes strong. It demands a place in the
system, suited, not to its former weakness, but to its present power.
If this is granted, all is well. If this is refused, then comes
the struggle between the young energy of one class and the ancient
privileges of another. Such was the struggle between the Plebeians and
the Patricians of Rome. Such was the struggle of the Italian allies for
admission to the full rights of Roman citizens. Such was the struggle
of our North American colonies against the mother country. Such was
the struggle which the Third Estate of France maintained against the
aristocracy of birth. Such was the struggle which the Roman Catholics
of Ireland maintained against the aristocracy of creed. Such is the
struggle which the free people of colour in Jamaica are now maintaining
against the aristocracy of skin. Such, finally, is the struggle which
the middle classes in England are maintaining against an aristocracy
of mere locality, against an aristocracy the principle of which is to
invest a hundred drunken potwallopers in one place, or the owner of
a ruined hovel in another, with powers which are withheld from cities
renowned to the furthest ends of the earth, for the marvels of their
wealth and of their industry.
But these great cities, says my honourable friend the Member for the
University of Oxford, are virtually, though not directly, represented.
Are not the wishes of Manchester, he asks, as much consulted as those
of any town which sends Members to Parliament? Now, Sir, I do not
understand how a power which is salutary when exercised virtually can
be noxious when exercised directly. If the wishes of Manchester have as
much weight with us as they would have under a system which should give
Representatives to Manchester, how can there be any danger in giving
Representatives to Manchester? A virtual Representative is, I presume,
a man who acts as a direct Representative would act: for surely it
would be absurd to say that a man virtually represents the people
of Manchester, who is in the habit of saying No, when a man directly
representing the people of Manchester would say Aye. The utmost that
can be expected from virtual Representation is that it may be as good
as direct Representation. If so, why not grant direct Representation to
places which, as everybody allows, ought, by some process or other, to
be represented?
If it be said that there is an evil in change as change, I answer that
there is also an evil in discontent as discontent. This, indeed, is the
strongest part of our case. It is said that the system works well. I
deny it. I deny that a system works well, which the people regard
with aversion. We may say here, that it is a good system and a perfect
system. But if any man were to say so to any six hundred and fifty-eight
respectable farmers or shopkeepers, chosen by lot in any part of
England, he would be hooted down, and laughed to scorn. Are these the
feelings with which any part of the government ought to be regarded?
Above all, are these the feelings with which the popular branch of
the legislature ought to be regarded? It is almost as essential to the
utility of a House of Commons, that it should possess the confidence of
the people, as that it should deserve that confidence. Unfortunately,
that which is in theory the popular part of our government, is in
practice the unpopular part. Who wishes to dethrone the King? Who wishes
to turn the Lords out of their House? Here and there a crazy radical,
whom the boys in the street point at as he walks along. Who wishes to
alter the constitution of this House? The whole people. It is natural
that it should be so. The House of Commons is, in the language of Mr
Burke, a check, not on the people, but for the people. While that check
is efficient, there is no reason to fear that the King or the nobles
will oppress the people. But if the check requires checking, how is it
to be checked? If the salt shall lose its savour, wherewith shall we
season it? The distrust with which the nation regards this House may
be unjust. But what then? Can you remove that distrust? That it exists
cannot be denied. That it is an evil cannot be denied. That it is an
increasing evil cannot be denied. One gentleman tells us that it has
been produced by the late events in France and Belgium; another, that
it is the effect of seditious works which have lately been published.
If this feeling be of origin so recent, I have read history to little
purpose. Sir, this alarming discontent is not the growth of a day or of
a year. If there be any symptoms by which it is possible to distinguish
the chronic diseases of the body politic from its passing inflammations,
all those symptoms exist in the present case. The taint has been
gradually becoming more extensive and more malignant, through the whole
lifetime of two generations. We have tried anodynes. We have tried cruel
operations. What are we to try now? Who flatters himself that he can
turn this feeling back? Does there remain any argument which escaped the
comprehensive intellect of Mr Burke, or the subtlety of Mr Windham? Does
there remain any species of coercion which was not tried by Mr Pitt and
by Lord Londonderry? We have had laws. We have had blood. New treasons
have been created. The Press has been shackled. The Habeas Corpus Act
has been suspended. Public meetings have been prohibited. The event has
proved that these expedients were mere palliatives. You are at the end
of your palliatives. The evil remains. It is more formidable than ever.
What is to be done?
Under such circumstances, a great plan of reconciliation, prepared by
the Ministers of the Crown, has been brought before us in a manner which
gives additional lustre to a noble name, inseparably associated during
two centuries with the dearest liberties of the English people. I will
not say, that this plan is in all its details precisely such as I might
wish it to be; but it is founded on a great and a sound principle. It
takes away a vast power from a few. It distributes that power through
the great mass of the middle order. Every man, therefore, who thinks as
I think is bound to stand firmly by Ministers who are resolved to
stand or fall with this measure. Were I one of them, I would sooner,
infinitely sooner, fall with such a measure than stand by any other
means that ever supported a Cabinet.
My honourable friend, the Member for the University of Oxford, tells us,
that if we pass this law, England will soon be a republic. The reformed
House of Commons will, according to him, before it has sate ten years,
depose the King, and expel the Lords from their House. Sir, if my
honourable friend could prove this, he would have succeeded in bringing
an argument for democracy, infinitely stronger than any that is to be
found in the works of Paine. My honourable friend's proposition is in
fact this: that our monarchical and aristocratical institutions have no
hold on the public mind of England; that these institutions are regarded
with aversion by a decided majority of the middle class. This, Sir, I
say, is plainly deducible from his proposition; for he tells us that the
Representatives of the middle class will inevitably abolish royalty and
nobility within ten years: and there is surely no reason to think that
the Representatives of the middle class will be more inclined to a
democratic revolution than their constituents. Now, Sir, if I were
convinced that the great body of the middle class in England look with
aversion on monarchy and aristocracy, I should be forced, much against
my will, to come to this conclusion, that monarchical and aristocratical
institutions are unsuited to my country. Monarchy and aristocracy,
valuable and useful as I think them, are still valuable and useful as
means, and not as ends. The end of government is the happiness of
the people: and I do not conceive that, in a country like this, the
happiness of the people can be promoted by a form of government in which
the middle classes place no confidence, and which exists only because
the middle classes have no organ by which to make their sentiments
known. But, Sir, I am fully convinced that the middle classes sincerely
wish to uphold the Royal prerogatives and the constitutional rights of
the Peers. What facts does my honourable friend produce in support of
his opinion? One fact only; and that a fact which has absolutely nothing
to do with the question. The effect of this Reform, he tells us, would
be to make the House of Commons allpowerful. It was allpowerful once
before, in the beginning of 1649. Then it cut off the head of the King,
and abolished the House of Peers. Therefore, if it again has the supreme
power, it will act in the same manner. Now, Sir, it was not the House of
Commons that cut off the head of Charles the First; nor was the House
of Commons then allpowerful. It had been greatly reduced in numbers by
successive expulsions. It was under the absolute dominion of the army. A
majority of the House was willing to take the terms offered by the King.
The soldiers turned out the majority; and the minority, not a sixth part
of the whole House, passed those votes of which my honourable friend
speaks, votes of which the middle classes disapproved then, and of which
they disapprove still.
My honourable friend, and almost all the gentlemen who have taken the
same side with him in this Debate, have dwelt much on the utility of
close and rotten boroughs. It is by means of such boroughs, they tell
us, that the ablest men have been introduced into Parliament. It is
true that many distinguished persons have represented places of this
description. But, Sir, we must judge of a form of government by its
general tendency, not by happy accidents. Every form of government has
its happy accidents. Despotism has its happy accidents. Yet we are not
disposed to abolish all constitutional checks, to place an absolute
master over us, and to take our chance whether he may be a Caligula or
a Marcus Aurelius. In whatever way the House of Commons may be chosen,
some able men will be chosen in that way who would not be chosen in any
other way. If there were a law that the hundred tallest men in England
should be Members of Parliament, there would probably be some able men
among those who would come into the House by virtue of this law. If the
hundred persons whose names stand first in the alphabetical list of the
Court Guide were made Members of Parliament, there would probably be
able men among them. We read in ancient history, that a very able king
was elected by the neighing of his horse; but we shall scarcely, I
think, adopt this mode of election. In one of the most celebrated
republics of antiquity, Athens, Senators and Magistrates were chosen by
lot; and sometimes the lot fell fortunately. Once, for example, Socrates
was in office. A cruel and unjust proposition was made by a demagogue.
Socrates resisted it at the hazard of his own life. There is no event in
Grecian history more interesting than that memorable resistance. Yet who
would have officers appointed by lot, because the accident of the lot
may have given to a great and good man a power which he would probably
never have attained in any other way? We must judge, as I said, by
the general tendency of a system. No person can doubt that a House of
Commons chosen freely by the middle classes, will contain many very able
men. I do not say, that precisely the same able men who would find
their way into the present House of Commons will find their way into
the reformed House: but that is not the question. No particular man
is necessary to the State. We may depend on it that, if we provide the
country with popular institutions, those institutions will provide it
with great men.
There is another objection, which, I think, was first raised by the
honourable and learned Member for Newport. (Mr Horace Twiss.) He tells
us that the elective franchise is property; that to take it away from
a man who has not been judicially convicted of malpractices is robbery;
that no crime is proved against the voters in the close boroughs; that
no crime is even imputed to them in the preamble of the bill; and that
therefore to disfranchise them without compensation would be an act of
revolutionary tyranny. The honourable and learned gentleman has compared
the conduct of the present Ministers to that of those odious tools of
power, who, towards the close of the reign of Charles the Second, seized
the charters of the Whig corporations. Now, there was another precedent,
which I wonder that he did not recollect, both because it is much more
nearly in point than that to which he referred, and because my noble
friend, the Paymaster of the Forces, had previously alluded to it. If
the elective franchise is property, if to disfranchise voters without a
crime proved, or a compensation given, be robbery, was there ever such
an act of robbery as the disfranchising of the Irish forty-shilling
freeholders? Was any pecuniary compensation given to them? Is it
declared in the preamble of the bill which took away their franchise,
that they had been convicted of any offence? Was any judicial inquiry
instituted into their conduct? Were they even accused of any crime? Or
if you say that it was a crime in the electors of Clare to vote for
the honourable and learned gentleman who now represents the county of
Waterford, was a Protestant freeholder in Louth to be punished for
the crime of a Catholic freeholder in Clare? If the principle of the
honourable and learned Member for Newport be sound, the franchise of the
Irish peasant was property. That franchise the Ministers under whom the
honourable and learned Member held office did not scruple to take away.
Will he accuse those Ministers of robbery? If not, how can he bring such
an accusation against their successors?
Every gentleman, I think, who has spoken from the other side of the
House, has alluded to the opinions which some of His Majesty's Ministers
formerly entertained on the subject of Reform. It would be officious in
me, Sir, to undertake the defence of gentlemen who are so well able to
defend themselves. I will only say that, in my opinion, the country will
not think worse either of their capacity or of their patriotism, because
they have shown that they can profit by experience, because they have
learned to see the folly of delaying inevitable changes. There are
others who ought to have learned the same lesson. I say, Sir, that there
are those who, I should have thought, must have had enough to last them
all their lives of that humiliation which follows obstinate and boastful
resistance to changes rendered necessary by the progress of society, and
by the development of the human mind. Is it possible that those persons
can wish again to occupy a position which can neither be defended nor
surrendered with honour? I well remember, Sir, a certain evening in the
month of May, 1827. I had not then the honour of a seat in this House;
but I was an attentive observer of its proceedings. The right honourable
Baronet opposite (Sir Robert Peel), of whom personally I desire to speak
with that high respect which I feel for his talents and his character,
but of whose public conduct I must speak with the sincerity required
by my public duty, was then, as he is now, out of office. He had just
resigned the seals of the Home Department, because he conceived that the
recent ministerial arrangements had been too favourable to the Catholic
claims. He rose to ask whether it was the intention of the new Cabinet
to repeal the Test and Corporation Acts, and to reform the Parliament.
He bound up, I well remember, those two questions together; and he
declared that, if the Ministers should either attempt to repeal the
Test and Corporation Acts, or bring forward a measure of Parliamentary
Reform, he should think it his duty to oppose them to the utmost. Since
that declaration was made four years have elapsed; and what is now the
state of the three questions which then chiefly agitated the minds of
men? What is become of the Test and Corporation Acts? They are repealed.
By whom? By the right honourable Baronet. What has become of the
Catholic disabilities? They are removed. By whom? By the right
honourable Baronet. The question of Parliamentary Reform is still
behind. But signs, of which it is impossible to misconceive the import,
do most clearly indicate that unless that question also be speedily
settled, property, and order, and all the institutions of this great
monarchy, will be exposed to fearful peril. Is it possible that
gentlemen long versed in high political affairs cannot read these signs?
Is it possible that they can really believe that the Representative
system of England, such as it now is, will last to the year 1860? If
not, for what would they have us wait? Would they have us wait merely
that we may show to all the world how little we have profited by our own
recent experience?--Would they have us wait, that we may once again hit
the exact point where we can neither refuse with authority, nor
concede with grace? Would they have us wait, that the numbers of the
discontented party may become larger, its demands higher, its feelings
more acrimonious, its organisation more complete? Would they have us
wait till the whole tragicomedy of 1827 has been acted over again?
till they have been brought into office by a cry of 'No Reform,' to be
reformers, as they were once before brought into office by a cry of
'No Popery,' to be emancipators? Have they obliterated from their
minds--gladly, perhaps, would some among them obliterate from their
minds--the transactions of that year? And have they forgotten all the
transactions of the succeeding year? Have they forgotten how the spirit
of liberty in Ireland, debarred from its natural outlet, found a vent
by forbidden passages? Have they forgotten how we were forced to indulge
the Catholics in all the license of rebels, merely because we chose
to withhold from them the liberties of subjects? Do they wait for
associations more formidable than that of the Corn Exchange, for
contributions larger than the Rent, for agitators more violent than
those who, three years ago, divided with the King and the Parliament
the sovereignty of Ireland? Do they wait for that last and most dreadful
paroxysm of popular rage, for that last and most cruel test of military
fidelity? Let them wait, if their past experience shall induce them to
think that any high honour or any exquisite pleasure is to be obtained
by a policy like this. Let them wait, if this strange and fearful
infatuation be indeed upon them, that they should not see with their
eyes, or hear with their ears, or understand with their heart. But let
us know our interest and our duty better. Turn where we may, within,
around, the voice of great events is proclaiming to us, Reform, that
you may preserve. Now, therefore, while everything at home and abroad
forebodes ruin to those who persist in a hopeless struggle against the
spirit of the age, now, while the crash of the proudest throne of the
Continent is still resounding in our ears, now, while the roof of a
British palace affords an ignominious shelter to the exiled heir of
forty kings, now, while we see on every side ancient institutions
subverted, and great societies dissolved, now, while the heart of
England is still sound, now, while old feelings and old associations
retain a power and a charm which may too soon pass away, now, in this
your accepted time, now, in this your day of salvation, take counsel,
not of prejudice, not of party spirit, not of the ignominious pride of
a fatal consistency, but of history, of reason, of the ages which are
past, of the signs of this most portentous time. Pronounce in a
manner worthy of the expectation with which this great debate has been
anticipated, and of the long remembrance which it will leave behind.
Renew the youth of the State. Save property, divided against itself.
Save the multitude, endangered by its own unpopular power. Save the
greatest, and fairest, and most highly civilised community that ever
existed, from calamities which may in a few days sweep away all the rich
heritage of so many ages of wisdom and glory. The danger is terrible.
The time is short. If this bill should be rejected, I pray to God that
none of those who concur in rejecting it may ever remember their votes
with unavailing remorse, amidst the wreck of laws, the confusion of
ranks, the spoliation of property, and the dissolution of social order.
*****
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (JULY 5, 1831) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS ON THE 5TH OF JULY 1831.