profit those to whom it was given, such and yet more signal will be the
end of the reaction of September. The two cases are strictly analogous.
In both cases the people were eager when they believed the bill to be
in danger, and quiet when they believed it to be in security. During the
three or four weeks which followed the promulgation of the Ministerial
plan, all was joy, and gratitude, and vigorous exertion. Everywhere
meetings were held: everywhere resolutions were passed: from every
quarter were sent up petitions to this House, and addresses to the
Throne: and then the nation, having given vent to its first feelings of
delight, having clearly and strongly expressed its opinions, having seen
the principle of the bill adopted by the House of Commons on the second
reading, became composed, and awaited the result with a tranquillity
which the Opposition mistook for indifference. All at once the aspect of
affairs changed. General Gascoyne's amendment was carried: the bill was
again in danger: exertions were again necessary. Then was it well
seen whether the calmness of the public mind was any indication of
indifference. The depth and sincerity of the prevailing sentiments were
proved, not by mere talking, but by actions, by votes, by sacrifices.
Intimidation was defied: expenses were rejected: old ties were broken:
the people struggled manfully: they triumphed gloriously: they placed
the bill in perfect security, as far as this house was concerned; and
they returned to their repose. They are now, as they were on the eve of
General Gascoyne's motion, awaiting the issue of the deliberations of
Parliament, without any indecent show of violence, but with anxious
interest and immovable resolution. And because they are not exhibiting
that noisy and rapturous enthusiasm which is in its own nature
transient, because they are not as much excited as on the day when the
plan of the Government was first made known to them, or on the day when
the late Parliament was dissolved, because they do not go on week after
week, hallooing, and holding meetings, and marching about with flags,
and making bonfires, and illuminating their houses, we are again told
that there is a reaction. To such a degree can men be deceived by
their wishes, in spite of their own recent experience. Sir, there is no
reaction; and there will be no reaction. All that has been said on this
subject convinces me only that those who are now, for the second time,
raising this cry, know nothing of the crisis in which they are called on
to act, or of the nation which they aspire to govern. All their opinions
respecting this bill are founded on one great error. They imagine that
the public feeling concerning Reform is a mere whim which sprang up
suddenly out of nothing, and which will as suddenly vanish into nothing.
They, therefore, confidently expect a reaction. They are always looking
out for a reaction. Everything that they see, or that they hear, they
construe into a sign of the approach of this reaction. They resemble the
man in Horace, who lies on the bank of the river, expecting that it
will every moment pass by and leave him a clear passage, not knowing the
depth and abundance of the fountain which feeds it, not knowing that
it flows, and will flow on for ever. They have found out a hundred
ingenious devices by which they deceive themselves. Sometimes they tell
us that the public feeling about Reform was caused by the events which
took place at Paris about fourteen months ago; though every observant
and impartial man knows, that the excitement which the late French
revolution produced in England was not the cause but the effect of that
progress which liberal opinions had made amongst us. Sometimes they
tell us that we should not have been troubled with any complaints on the
subject of the Representation, if the House of Commons had agreed to a
certain motion, made in the session of 1830, for inquiry into the causes
of the public distress. I remember nothing about that motion, except
that it gave rise to the dullest debate ever known; and the country, I
am firmly convinced, cared not one straw about it. But is it not strange
that men of real ability can deceive themselves so grossly, as to think
that any change in the government of a foreign nation, or the rejection
of any single motion, however popular, could all at once raise up a
great, rich, enlightened nation, against its ancient institutions? Could
such small drops have produced an overflowing, if the vessel had not
already been filled to the very brim? These explanations are incredible,
and if they were credible, would be anything but consolatory. If it were
really true that the English people had taken a sudden aversion to a
representative system which they had always loved and admired, because a
single division in Parliament had gone against their wishes, or because,
in a foreign country, in circumstances bearing not the faintest analogy
to those in which we are placed, a change of dynasty had happened, what
hope could we have for such a nation of madmen? How could we expect
that the present form of government, or any form of government, would be
durable amongst them?
Sir, the public feeling concerning Reform is of no such recent origin,
and springs from no such frivolous causes. Its first faint commencement
may be traced far, very far, back in our history. During seventy years
that feeling has had a great influence on the public mind. Through the
first thirty years of the reign of George the Third, it was gradually
increasing. The great leaders of the two parties in the State were
favourable to Reform. Plans of reform were supported by large and most
respectable minorities in the House of Commons. The French Revolution,
filling the higher and middle classes with an extreme dread of change,
and the war calling away the public attention from internal to external
politics, threw the question back; but the people never lost sight
of it. Peace came, and they were at leisure to think of domestic
improvements. Distress came, and they suspected, as was natural, that
their distress was the effect of unfaithful stewardship and unskilful
legislation. An opinion favourable to Parliamentary Reform grew up
rapidly, and became strong among the middle classes. But one tie, one
strong tie, still bound those classes to the Tory party. I mean the
Catholic Question. It is impossible to deny that, on that subject, a
large proportion, a majority, I fear, of the middle class of Englishmen,
conscientiously held opinions opposed to those which I have always
entertained, and were disposed to sacrifice every other consideration to
what they regarded as a religious duty. Thus the Catholic Question hid,
so to speak, the question of Parliamentary Reform. The feeling in favour
of Parliamentary Reform grew, but it grew in the shade. Every man, I
think, must have observed the progress of that feeling in his own social
circle. But few Reform meetings were held, and few petitions in favour
of Reform presented. At length the Catholics were emancipated; the
solitary link of sympathy which attached the people to the Tories was
broken; the cry of "No Popery" could no longer be opposed to the cry
of "Reform." That which, in the opinion of the two great parties in
Parliament, and of a vast portion of the community, had been the first
question, suddenly disappeared; and the question of Parliamentary Reform
took the first place. Then was put forth all the strength which had been
growing in silence and obscurity. Then it appeared that Reform had on
its side a coalition of interests and opinions unprecedented in our
history, all the liberality and intelligence which had supported the
Catholic claims, and all the clamour which had opposed them.
This, I believe, is the true history of that public feeling on the
subject of Reform which had been ascribed to causes quite inadequate to
the production of such an effect. If ever there was in the history of
mankind a national sentiment which was the very opposite of a caprice,
with which accident had nothing to do, which was produced by the slow,
steady, certain progress of the human mind, it is the sentiment of the
English people on the subject of Reform. Accidental circumstances
may have brought that feeling to maturity in a particular year, or a
particular month. That point I will not dispute; for it is not worth
disputing. But those accidental circumstances have brought on Reform,
only as the circumstance that, at a particular time, indulgences were
offered for sale in a particular town in Saxony, brought on the great
separation from the Church of Rome. In both cases the public mind was
prepared to move on the slightest impulse.
Thinking thus of the public opinion concerning Reform, being convinced
that this opinion is the mature product of time and of discussion, I
expect no reaction. I no more expect to see my countrymen again content
with the mere semblance of a Representation, than to see them again
drowning witches or burning heretics, trying causes by red hot
ploughshares, or offering up human sacrifices to wicker idols. I no more
expect a reaction in favour of Gatton and Old Sarum, than a reaction in
favour of Thor and Odin. I should think such a reaction almost as much
a miracle as that the shadow should go back upon the dial. Revolutions
produced by violence are often followed by reactions; the victories of
reason once gained, are gained for eternity.
In fact, if there be, in the present aspect of public affairs, any sign
peculiarly full of evil omen to the opponents of Reform, it is that very
calmness of the public mind on which they found their expectation of
success. They think that it is the calmness of indifference. It is the
calmness of confident hope: and in proportion to the confidence of hope
will be the bitterness of disappointment. Disappointment, indeed, I
do not anticipate. That we are certain of success in this House is now
acknowledged; and our opponents have, in consequence, during the whole
of this Session, and particularly during the present debate, addressed
their arguments and exhortations rather to the Lords than to the
assembly of which they are themselves Members. Their principal argument
has always been, that the bill will destroy the peerage. The honourable
and learned Member for Rye has, in plain terms, called on the Barons of
England to save their order from democratic encroachments, by rejecting
this measure. All these arguments, all these appeals, being interpreted,
mean this: "Proclaim to your countrymen that you have no common
interests with them, no common sympathies with them; that you can be
powerful only by their weakness, and exalted only by their degradation;
that the corruption which disgusts them, and the oppression against
which their spirit rises up, are indispensable to your authority;
that the freedom and purity of election are incompatible with the very
existence of your House. Give them clearly to understand that your
power rests, not as they have hitherto imagined, on their rational
convictions, or on their habitual veneration, or on your own great
property, but on a system fertile of political evils, fertile also of
low iniquities of which ordinary justice take cognisance. Bind up, in
inseparable union, the privileges of your estate with the grievances
of ours: resolve to stand or fall with abuses visibly marked out for
destruction: tell the people that they are attacking you in attacking
the three holes in the wall, and that they shall never get rid of
the three holes in the wall, till they have got rid of you; that a
hereditary peerage and a representative assembly, can co-exist only in
name, and that, if they will have a real House of Peers, they must be
content with a mock House of Commons." This, I say, is the advice given
to the Lords by those who call themselves the friends of aristocracy.
That advice so pernicious will not be followed, I am well assured; yet
I cannot but listen to it with uneasiness. I cannot but wonder that it
should proceed from the lips of men who are constantly lecturing us on
the duty of consulting history and experience. Have they never heard
what effects counsels like their own, when too faithfully followed, have
produced? Have they never visited that neighbouring country, which still
presents to the eye, even of a passing stranger, the signs of a great
dissolution and renovation of society? Have they never walked by those
stately mansions, now sinking into decay, and portioned out into lodging
rooms, which line the silent streets of the Faubourg St Germain? Have
they never seen the ruins of those castles whose terraces and gardens
overhang the Loire? Have they never heard that from those magnificent
hotels, from those ancient castles, an aristocracy as splendid, as
brave, as proud, as accomplished, as ever Europe saw, was driven forth
to exile and beggary, to implore the charity of hostile Governments and
hostile creeds, to cut wood in the back settlements of America, or to
teach French in the schoolrooms of London? And why were those haughty
nobles destroyed with that utter destruction? Why were they scattered
over the face of the earth, their titles abolished, their escutcheons
defaced, their parks wasted, their palaces dismantled, their heritage
given to strangers? Because they had no sympathy with the people,
no discernment of the signs of their time; because, in the pride and
narrowness of their hearts, they called those whose warnings might
have saved them theorists and speculators; because they refused all
concession till the time had arrived when no concession would avail. I
have no apprehension that such a fate awaits the nobles of England. I
draw no parallel between our aristocracy and that of France. Those who
represent the peerage as a class whose power is incompatible with the
just influence of the people in the State, draw that parallel, and not
I. They do all in their power to place the Lords and Commons of England
in that position with respect to each other in which the French gentry
stood with respect to the Third Estate. But I am convinced that these
advisers will not succeed. We see, with pride and delight, among the
friends of the people, the Talbots, the Cavendishes, the princely house
of Howard. Foremost among those who have entitled themselves, by their
exertions in this House, to the lasting gratitude of their countrymen,
we see the descendants of Marlborough, of Russell, and of Derby. I hope,
and firmly believe, that the Lords will see what their interests and
their honour require. I hope, and firmly believe, that they will act in
such a manner as to entitle themselves to the esteem and affection of
the people. But if not, let not the enemies of Reform imagine that their
reign is straightway to recommence, or that they have obtained anything
more than a short and uneasy respite. We are bound to respect the
constitutional rights of the Peers; but we are bound also not to forget
our own. We, too, have our privileges; we, too, are an estate of the
realm. A House of Commons strong in the love and confidence of the
people, a House of Commons which has nothing to fear from a dissolution,
is something in the government. Some persons, I well know, indulge a
hope that the rejection of the bill will at once restore the domination
of that party which fled from power last November, leaving everything
abroad and everything at home in confusion; leaving the European system,
which it had built up at a vast cost of blood and treasure, falling to
pieces in every direction; leaving the dynasties which it had restored,
hastening into exile; leaving the nations which it had joined together,
breaking away from each other; leaving the fundholders in dismay;
leaving the peasantry in insurrection; leaving the most fertile counties
lighted up with the fires of incendiaries; leaving the capital in such
a state, that a royal procession could not pass safely through it.
Dark and terrible, beyond any season within my remembrance of political
affairs, was the day of their flight. Far darker and far more terrible
will be the day of their return. They will return in opposition to
the whole British nation, united as it was never before united on any
internal question; united as firmly as when the Armada was sailing up
the Channel; united as firmly as when Bonaparte pitched his camp on the
cliffs of Boulogne. They will return pledged to defend evils which the
people are resolved to destroy. They will return to a situation in which
they can stand only by crushing and trampling down public opinion, and
from which, if they fall, they may, in their fall, drag down with them
the whole frame of society. Against such evils, should such evils appear
to threaten the country, it will be our privilege and our duty to warn
our gracious and beloved Sovereign. It will be our privilege and our
duty to convey the wishes of a loyal people to the throne of a patriot
king. At such a crisis the proper place for the House of Commons is
in front of the nation; and in that place this House will assuredly
be found. Whatever prejudice or weakness may do elsewhere to ruin the
empire, here, I trust, will not be wanting the wisdom, the virtue, and
the energy that may save it.
*****
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (OCTOBER 10, 1831) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE
OF COMMONS ON THE 10TH OF OCTOBER, 1831.
On the morning of Saturday, the eighth of October, 1831, the House of
Lords, by a majority of 190 to 158, rejected the Reform Bill. On the
Monday following, Lord Ebrington, member for Devonshire, moved the
following resolution in the House of Commons:
"That while this House deeply laments the present fate of a bill for
amending the representation of the people in England and Wales,
in favour of which the opinion of the country stands unequivocally
pronounced, and which has been matured by discussions the most anxious
and laborious, it feels itself called upon to reassert its firm
adherence to the principle and leading provisions of that great measure,
and to express its unabated confidence in the integrity, perseverance,
and ability of those Ministers, who, in introducing and conducting it,
have so well consulted the best interests of the country."
The resolution was carried by 329 votes to 198. The following speech was
made early in the debate.
I doubt, Sir, whether any person who had merely heard the speech of the
right honourable Member for the University of Cambridge (Mr Goulburn.)
would have been able to conjecture what the question is on which we are
discussing, and what the occasion on which we are assembled. For myself,
I can with perfect certainty declare that never in the whole course of
my life did I feel my mind oppressed by so deep and solemn a sense
of responsibility as at the present moment. I firmly believe that the
country is now in danger of calamities greater than ever threatened it,
from domestic misgovernment or from foreign hostility. The danger is no
less than this, that there may be a complete alienation of the people
from their rulers. To soothe the public mind, to reconcile the people to
the delay, the short delay, which must intervene before their wishes can
be legitimately gratified, and in the meantime to avert civil discord,
and to uphold the authority of law, these are, I conceive, the objects
of my noble friend, the Member for Devonshire: these ought, at the
present crisis, to be the objects of every honest Englishman. They
are objects which will assuredly be attained, if we rise to this great
occasion, if we take our stand in the place which the Constitution has
assigned to us, if we employ, with becoming firmness and dignity, the
powers which belong to us as trustees of the nation, and as advisers of
the Throne.
Sir, the Resolution of my noble friend consists of two parts. He calls
upon us to declare our undiminished attachment to the principles of
the Reform Bill, and also our undiminished confidence in His Majesty's
Ministers. I consider these two declarations as identical. The question
of Reform is, in my opinion, of such paramount importance, that,
approving the principles of the Ministerial Bill, I must think the
Ministers who have brought that bill forward, although I may differ
from them on some minor points, entitled to the strongest support
of Parliament. The right honourable gentleman, the Member for the
University of Cambridge, has attempted to divert the course of the
debate to questions comparatively unimportant. He has said much about
the coal duty, about the candle duty, about the budget of the present
Chancellor of the Exchequer. On most of the points to which he has
referred, it would be easy for me, were I so inclined, to defend the
Ministers; and where I could not defend them, I should find it easy to
recriminate on those who preceded them. The right honourable Member for
the University of Cambridge has taunted the Ministers with the defeat
which their plan respecting the timber trade sustained in the last
Parliament. I might, perhaps, at a more convenient season, be tempted
to inquire whether that defeat was more disgraceful to them or to their
predecessors. I might, perhaps, be tempted to ask the right honourable
gentleman whether, if he had not been treated, while in office, with
more fairness than he has shown while in opposition, it would have been
in his power to carry his best bill, the Beer Bill? He has accused
the Ministers of bringing forward financial propositions, and then
withdrawing those propositions. Did not he bring forward, during the
Session of 1830, a plan respecting the sugar duties? And was not that
plan withdrawn? But, Sir, this is mere trifling. I will not be seduced
from the matter in hand by the right honourable gentleman's example.
At the present moment I can see only one question in the State, the
question of Reform; only two parties, the friends of the Reform Bill and
its enemies.
It is not my intention, Sir, again to discuss the merits of the Reform
Bill. The principle of that bill received the approbation of the late
House of Commons after a discussion of ten nights; and the bill as it
now stands, after a long and most laborious investigation, passed the
present House of Commons by a majority which was nearly half as large
again as the minority. This was little more than a fortnight ago.
Nothing has since occurred to change our opinion. The justice of the
case is unaltered. The public enthusiasm is undiminished. Old Sarum has
grown no larger. Manchester has grown no smaller. In addressing this
House, therefore, I am entitled to assume that the bill is in itself a
good bill. If so, ought we to abandon it merely because the Lords have
rejected it? We ought to respect the lawful privileges of their
House; but we ought also to assert our own. We are constitutionally as
independent of their Lordships as their Lordships are of us. We have
precisely as good a right to adhere to our opinion as they have to
dissent from it. In speaking of their decision, I will attempt to follow
that example of moderation which was so judiciously set by my noble
friend, the Member for Devonshire. I will only say that I do not think
that they are more competent to form a correct judgment on a political
question than we are. It is certain that, on all the most important
points on which the two Houses have for a long time past differed,
the Lords have at length come over to the opinion of the Commons. I am
therefore entitled to say, that with respect to all those points, the
Peers themselves being judges, the House of Commons was in the right and
the House of Lords in the wrong. It was thus with respect to the Slave
trade: it was thus with respect to Catholic Emancipation: it was thus
with several other important questions. I, therefore, cannot think that
we ought, on the present occasion, to surrender our judgment to those
who have acknowledged that, on former occasions of the same kind, we
have judged more correctly than they.