ask you whether you think that any Reform Bill which you can frame will
be final? For my part I do believe that the settlement proposed by His
Majesty's Ministers will be final, in the only sense in which a wise man
ever uses that word. I believe that it will last during that time
for which alone we ought at present to think of legislating. Another
generation may find in the new representative system defects such as we
find in the old representative system. Civilisation will proceed. Wealth
will increase. Industry and trade will find out new seats. The same
causes which have turned so many villages into great towns, which
have turned so many thousands of square miles of fir and heath into
cornfields and orchards, will continue to operate. Who can say that a
hundred years hence there may not be, on the shore of some desolate
and silent bay in the Hebrides, another Liverpool, with its docks and
warehouses and endless forests of masts? Who can say that the huge
chimneys of another Manchester may not rise in the wilds of Connemara?
For our children we do not pretend to legislate. All that we can do
for them is to leave to them a memorable example of the manner in which
great reforms ought to be made. In the only sense, therefore, in which
a statesman ought to say that anything is final, I pronounce this bill
final. But in what sense will your bill be final? Suppose that you could
defeat the Ministers, that you could displace them, that you could
form a Government, that you could obtain a majority in this House,
what course would events take? There is no difficulty in foreseeing
the stages of the rapid progress downward. First we should have a mock
reform; a Bassietlaw reform; a reform worthy of those politicians who,
when a delinquent borough had forfeited its franchise, and when it was
necessary for them to determine what they would do with two seats
in Parliament, deliberately gave those seats, not to Manchester or
Birmingham or Leeds, not to Lancashire or Staffordshire or Devonshire,
but to a constituent body studiously selected because it was not large
and because it was not independent; a reform worthy of those politicians
who, only twelve months ago, refused to give members to the three
greatest manufacturing towns in the world. We should have a reform which
would produce all the evils and none of the benefits of change, which
would take away from the representative system the foundation of
prescription, and yet would not substitute the surer foundation of
reason and public good. The people would be at once emboldened and
exasperated; emboldened because they would see that they had frightened
the Tories into making a pretence of reforming the Parliament; and
exasperated because they would see that the Tory Reform was a mere
pretence. Then would come agitation, tumult, political associations,
libels, inflammatory harangues. Coercion would only aggravate the
evil. This is no age, this is no country, for the war of power against
opinion. Those Jacobin mountebanks, whom this bill would at once send
back to their native obscurity, would rise into fearful importance. The
law would be sometimes braved and sometimes evaded. In short, England
would soon be what Ireland was at the beginning of 1829. Then, at
length, as in 1829, would come the late and vain repentance. Then, Sir,
amidst the generous cheers of the Whigs, who will be again occupying
their old seats on your left hand, and amidst the indignant murmurs of
those stanch Tories who are now again trusting to be again betrayed, the
right honourable Baronet opposite will rise from the Treasury Bench to
propose that bill on which the hearts of the people are set. But will
that bill be then accepted with the delight and thankfulness with which
it was received last March? Remember Ireland. Remember how, in that
country, concessions too long delayed were at last received. That great
boon which in 1801, in 1813, in 1825, would have won the hearts of
millions, given too late, and given from fear, only produced new
clamours and new dangers. Is not one such lesson enough for one
generation? A noble Lord opposite told us not to expect that this bill
will have a conciliatory effect. Recollect, he said, how the French
aristocracy surrendered their privileges in 1789, and how that surrender
was requited. Recollect that Day of Sacrifices which was afterwards
called the Day of Dupes. Sir, that day was afterwards called the Day of
Dupes, not because it was the Day of Sacrifices, but because it was
the Day of Sacrifices too long deferred. It was because the French
aristocracy resisted reform in 1783, that they were unable to resist
revolution in 1789. It was because they clung too long to odious
exemptions and distinctions, that they were at last unable to serve
their lands, their mansions, their heads. They would not endure Turgot:
and they had to endure Robespierre.
I am far indeed from wishing that the Members of this House should be
influenced by fear in the bad and unworthy sense of that word. But
there is an honest and honourable fear, which well becomes those who are
intrusted with the dearest interests of a great community; and to that
fear I am not ashamed to make an earnest appeal. It is very well to talk
of confronting sedition boldly, and of enforcing the law against those
who would disturb the public peace. No doubt a tumult caused by local
and temporary irritation ought to be suppressed with promptitude and
vigour. Such disturbances, for example, as those which Lord George
Gordon raised in 1780, should be instantly put down with the strong
hand. But woe to the Government which cannot distinguish between a
nation and a mob! Woe to the Government which thinks that a great, a
steady, a long continued movement of the public mind is to be stopped
like a street riot! This error has been twice fatal to the great House
of Bourbon. God be praised, our rulers have been wiser. The golden
opportunity which, if once suffered to escape, might never have been
retrieved, has been seized. Nothing, I firmly believe, can now prevent
the passing of this noble law, this second Bill of Rights. ["Murmurs."]
Yes, I call it, and the nation calls it, and our posterity will long
call it, this second Bill of Rights, this Greater Charter of the
Liberties of England. The year 1831 will, I trust, exhibit the first
example of the manner in which it behoves a free and enlightened people
to purify their polity from old and deeply seated abuses, without
bloodshed, without violence, without rapine, all points freely debated,
all the forms of senatorial deliberation punctiliously observed,
industry and trade not for a moment interrupted, the authority of law
not for a moment suspended. These are things of which we may well be
proud. These are things which swell the heart up with a good hope for
the destinies of mankind. I cannot but anticipate a long series of
happy years; of years during which a parental Government will be firmly
supported by a grateful nation: of years during which war, if war should
be inevitable, will find us an united people; of years pre-eminently
distinguished by the progress of arts, by the improvement of laws,
by the augmentation of the public resources, by the diminution of the
public burdens, by all those victories of peace, in which, far more than
in any military successes, consists the true felicity of states, and the
true glory of statesmen. With such hopes, Sir, and such feelings, I give
my cordial assent to the second reading of a bill which I consider as
in itself deserving of the warmest approbation, and as indispensably
necessary, in the present temper of the public mind, to the repose of
the country and to the stability of the throne.
*****
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (SEPTEMBER 20, 1831) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE
HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 20TH OF SEPTEMBER 1831.
On Monday, the nineteenth of September, 1831, the Bill to amend the
representation of the people in England and Wales was read a third time,
at an early hour and in a thin house, without any debate. But on the
question whether the Bill should pass a discussion arose which lasted
three nights. On the morning of the twenty-second of September the House
divided; and the Bill passed by 345 votes to 236. The following Speech
was made on the second night of the debate.
It is not without great diffidence, Sir, that I rise to address you on a
subject which has been nearly exhausted. Indeed, I should not have risen
had I not thought that, though the arguments on this question are for
the most part old, our situation at present is in a great measure new.
At length the Reform Bill, having passed without vital injury
through all the dangers which threatened it, during a long and minute
discussion, from the attacks of its enemies and from the dissensions
of its friends, comes before us for our final ratification, altered,
indeed, in some of its details for the better, and in some for the
worse, but in its great principles still the same bill which, on the
first of March, was proposed to the late Parliament, the same bill which
was received with joy and gratitude by the whole nation, the same bill
which, in an instant, took away the power of interested agitators, and
united in one firm body all the sects of sincere Reformers, the same
bill which, at the late election, received the approbation of almost
every great constituent body in the empire. With a confidence which
discussion has only strengthened, with an assured hope of great public
blessings if the wish of the nation shall be gratified, with a deep and
solemn apprehension of great public calamities if that wish shall be
disappointed, I, for the last time, give my most hearty assent to this
noble law, destined, I trust, to be the parent of many good laws, and,
through a long series of years, to secure the repose and promote the
prosperity of my country.
When I say that I expect this bill to promote the prosperity of the
country, I by no means intend to encourage those chimerical hopes which
the honourable and learned Member for Rye (Mr Pemberton.), who has so
much distinguished himself in this debate, has imputed to the Reformers.
The people, he says, are for the bill, because they expect that it will
immediately relieve all their distresses. Sir, I believe that very few
of that large and respectable class which we are now about to admit to
a share of political power entertain any such absurd expectation. They
expect relief, I doubt not; and I doubt not that they will find it:
but sudden relief they are far too wise to expect. The bill, says the
honourable and learned gentleman, is good for nothing: it is merely
theoretical: it removes no real and sensible evil: it will not give the
people more work, or higher wages, or cheaper bread. Undoubtedly, Sir,
the bill will not immediately give all those things to the people.
But will any institutions give them all those things? Do the present
institutions of the country secure to them those advantages? If we are
to pronounce the Reform Bill good for nothing, because it will not at
once raise the nation from distress to prosperity, what are we to say
of that system under which the nation has been of late sinking from
prosperity into distress? The defect is not in the Reform Bill, but in
the very nature of government. On the physical condition of the great
body of the people, government acts not as a specific, but as an
alternative. Its operation is powerful, indeed, and certain, but gradual
and indirect. The business of government is not directly to make the
people rich; and a government which attempts more than this is precisely
the government which is likely to perform less. Governments do not and
cannot support the people. We have no miraculous powers: we have not the
rod of the Hebrew lawgiver: we cannot rain down bread on the multitude
from Heaven: we cannot smite the rock and give them to drink. We can
give them only freedom to employ their industry to the best advantage,
and security in the enjoyment of what their industry has acquired. These
advantages it is our duty to give at the smallest possible cost. The
diligence and forethought of individuals will thus have fair play; and
it is only by the diligence and forethought of individuals that the
community can become prosperous. I am not aware that His Majesty's
Ministers, or any of the supporters of this bill, have encouraged the
people to hope, that Reform will remove distress, in any other way than
by this indirect process. By this indirect process the bill will, I
feel assured, conduce to the national prosperity. If it had been
passed fifteen years ago, it would have saved us from our present
embarrassments. If we pass it now, it will gradually extricate us from
them. It will secure to us a House of Commons, which, by preserving
peace, by destroying monopolies, by taking away unnecessary public
burthens, by judiciously distributing necessary public burthens, will,
in the progress of time, greatly improve our condition. This it will do;
and those who blame it for not doing more blame it for not doing what
no Constitution, no code of laws, ever did or ever will do; what
no legislator, who was not an ignorant and unprincipled quack, ever
ventured to promise.
But chimerical as are the hopes which the honourable and learned Member
for Rye imputes to the people, they are not, I think, more chimerical
than the fears which he has himself avowed. Indeed, those very gentlemen
who are constantly telling us that we are taking a leap in the dark,
that we pay no attention to the lessons of experience, that we are mere
theorists, are themselves the despisers of experience, are themselves
the mere theorists. They are terrified at the thought of admitting into
Parliament members elected by ten pound householders. They have formed
in their own imaginations a most frightful idea of these members. My
honourable and learned friend, the Member for Cockermouth (Sir James
Scarlett.), is certain that these members will take every opportunity of
promoting the interests of the journeyman in opposition to those of the
capitalist. The honourable and learned Member for Rye is convinced
that none but persons who have strong local connections, will ever be
returned for such constituent bodies. My honourable friend, the Member
for Thetford (Mr Alexander Baring.), tells us, that none but mob
orators, men who are willing to pay the basest court to the multitude,
will have any chance. Other speakers have gone still further, and
have described to us the future borough members as so many Marats and
Santerres, low, fierce, desperate men, who will turn the House into a
bear-garden, and who will try to turn the monarchy into a republic, mere
agitators, without honour, without sense, without education, without the
feelings or the manners of gentlemen. Whenever, during the course of the
fatiguing discussions by which we have been so long occupied, there has
been a cry of "question," or a noise at the bar, the orator who has been
interrupted has remarked, that such proceedings will be quite in place
in the Reformed Parliament, but that we ought to remember that the House
of Commons is still an assembly of gentlemen. This, I say, is to set up
mere theory, or rather mere prejudice, in opposition to long and ample
experience. Are the gentlemen who talk thus ignorant that we have
already the means of judging what kind of men the ten pound householders
will send up to parliament? Are they ignorant that there are even now
large towns with very popular franchises, with franchises even more
democratic than those which will be bestowed by the present bill?
Ought they not, on their own principles, to look at the results of
the experiments which have already been made, instead of predicting
frightful calamities at random? How do the facts which are before us
agree with their theories? Nottingham is a city with a franchise even
more democratic than that which this bill establishes. Does Nottingham
send hither mere vulgar demagogues? It returns two distinguished men,
one an advocate, the other a soldier, both unconnected with the town.
Every man paying scot and lot has a vote at Leicester. This is a lower
franchise than the ten pound franchise. Do we find that the Members
for Leicester are the mere tools of the journeymen? I was at Leicester
during the contest of 1826; and I recollect that the suffrages of the
scot and lot voters were pretty equally divided between two candidates,
neither of them connected with the place, neither of them a slave of the
mob, one a Tory Baronet from Derbyshire, the other a most respectable
and excellent friend of mine, connected with the manufacturing
interest, and also an inhabitant of Derbyshire. Look at Norwich. Look at
Northampton, with a franchise more democratic than even the scot and lot
franchise. Northampton formerly returned Mr Perceval, and now returns
gentlemen of high respectability, gentlemen who have a great stake in
the prosperity and tranquillity of the country. Look at the metropolitan
districts. This is an a fortiori case. Nay it is--the expression, I
fear, is awkward--an a fortiori case at two removes. The ten pound
householders of the metropolis are persons in a lower station of
life than the ten pound householders of other towns. The scot and lot
franchise in the metropolis is again lower than the ten pound franchise.
Yet have Westminster and Southwark been in the habit of sending us
members of whom we have had reason to be ashamed, of whom we have not
had reason to be proud? I do not say that the inhabitants of Westminster
and Southwark have always expressed their political sentiments with
proper moderation. That is not the question. The question is this: what
kind of men have they elected? The very principle of all Representative
government is, that men who do not judge well of public affairs may be
quite competent to choose others who will judge better. Whom, then, have
Westminster and Southwark sent us during the last fifty years, years
full of great events, years of intense popular excitement? Take any one
of those nomination boroughs, the patrons of which have conscientiously
endeavoured to send fit men into this House. Compare the Members for
that borough with the Members for Westminster and Southwark; and you
will have no doubt to which the preference is due. It is needless to
mention Mr Fox, Mr Sheridan, Mr Tierney, Sir Samuel Romilly. Yet I must
pause at the name of Sir Samuel Romilly. Was he a mob orator? Was he a
servile flatterer of the multitude? Sir, if he had any fault, if
there was any blemish on that most serene and spotless character, that
character which every public man, and especially every professional
man engaged in politics, ought to propose to himself as a model, it
was this, that he despised popularity too much and too visibly. The
honourable Member for Thetford told us that the honourable and learned
Member for Rye, with all his talents, would have no chance of a seat in
the Reformed Parliament, for want of the qualifications which succeed
on the hustings. Did Sir Samuel Romilly ever appear on the hustings of
Westminster? He never solicited one vote; he never showed himself to the
electors, till he had been returned at the head of the poll. Even
then, as I have heard from one of his nearest relatives, it was with
reluctance that he submitted to be chaired. He shrank from being made
a show. He loved the people, and he served them; but Coriolanus himself
was not less fit to canvass them. I will mention one other name, that
of a man of whom I have only a childish recollection, but who must have
been intimately known to many of those who hear me, Mr Henry Thornton.
He was a man eminently upright, honourable, and religious, a man of
strong understanding, a man of great political knowledge; but, in all
respects, the very reverse of a mob orator. He was a man who would not
have yielded to what he considered as unreasonable clamour, I will
not say to save his seat, but to save his life. Yet he continued to
represent Southwark, Parliament after Parliament, for many years. Such
has been the conduct of the scot and lot voters of the metropolis; and
there is clearly less reason to expect democratic violence from ten
pound householders than from scot and lot householders; and from ten
pound householders in the country towns than from ten pound householders
in London. Experience, I say, therefore, is on our side; and on the side
of our opponents nothing but mere conjecture and mere assertion.
Sir, when this bill was first brought forward, I supported it, not
only on the ground of its intrinsic merits, but, also, because I was
convinced that to reject it would be a course full of danger. I believe
that the danger of that course is in no respect diminished. I believe,
on the contrary, that it is increased. We are told that there is a
reaction. The warmth of the public feeling, it seems, has abated. In
this story both the sections of the party opposed to Reform are agreed;
those who hate Reform, because it will remove abuses, and those who hate
it, because it will vert anarchy; those who wish to see the electing
body controlled by ejectments, and those who wish to see it controlled
by riots. They must now, I think, be undeceived. They must have already
discovered that the surest way to prevent a reaction is to talk about
it, and that the enthusiasm of the people is at once rekindled by any
indiscreet mention of their seeming coolness. This, Sir, is not the
first reaction which the sagacity of the Opposition has discovered since
the Reform Bill was brought in. Every gentleman who sat in the late
Parliament, every gentleman who, during the sitting of the late
Parliament, paid attention to political speeches and publications, must
remember how, for some time before the debate on General Gascoyne's
motion, and during the debate on that motion, and down to the very day
of the dissolution, we were told that public feeling had cooled. The
right honourable Baronet, the member for Tamworth, told us so. All the
literary organs of the Opposition, from the Quarterly Review down to the
Morning Post, told us so. All the Members of the Opposition with whom
we conversed in private told us so. I have in my eye a noble friend of
mine, who assured me, on the very night which preceded the dissolution,
that the people had ceased to be zealous for the Ministerial plan, and
that we were more likely to lose than to gain by the elections. The
appeal was made to the people; and what was the result? What sign of a
reaction appeared among the Livery of London? What sign of a reaction
did the honourable Baronet who now represents Okehampton find among the
freeholders of Cornwall? (Sir Richard Vyvyan.) How was it with the large
represented towns? Had Liverpool cooled? or Bristol? or Leicester? or
Coventry? or Nottingham? or Norwich? How was it with the great seats of
manufacturing industry, Yorkshire, and Lancashire, and Staffordshire,
and Warwickshire, and Cheshire? How was it with the agricultural
districts, Northumberland and Cumberland, Leicestershire and
Lincolnshire, Kent and Essex, Oxfordshire, Hampshire, Somersetshire,
Dorsetshire, Devonshire? How was it with the strongholds of
aristocratical influence, Newark, and Stamford, and Hertford, and St
Alban's? Never did any people display, within the limits prescribed by
law, so generous a fervour, or so steadfast a determination, as that
very people whose apparent languor had just before inspired the enemies
of Reform with a delusive hope.