Is it the fault of His Majesty's
Ministers?
Macaulay
Now to both these the poor alone
are exposed. What man, in our rank of life, runs the smallest risk of
being Burked? That a man has property, that he has connections, that he
is likely to be missed and sought for, are circumstances which secure
him against the Burker. It is curious to observe the difference between
murders of this kind and other murders. An ordinary murder hides the
body, and disposes of the property. Bishop and Williams dig holes and
bury the property, and expose the body to sale. The more wretched, the
more lonely, any human being may be, the more desirable prey is he to
these wretches. It is the man, the mere naked man, that they pursue.
Again, as to bad surgery; this is, of all evils, the evil by which the
rich suffer least, and the poor most. If we could do all that in the
opinion of the Member for Preston ought to be done, if we could destroy
the English school of anatomy, if we could force every student of
medical science to go to the expense of a foreign education, on whom
would the bad consequences fall? On the rich? Not at all. As long as
there is in France, in Italy, in Germany, a single surgeon of eminent
skill, a single surgeon who is, to use the phrase of the member for
Preston, addicted to dissection, that surgeon will be in attendance
whenever an English nobleman is to be cut for the stone. The higher
orders in England will always be able to procure the best medical
assistance. Who suffers by the bad state of the Russian school of
surgery? The Emperor Nicholas? By no means. The whole evil falls on the
peasantry. If the education of a surgeon should become very extensive,
if the fees of surgeons should consequently rise, if the supply of
regular surgeons should diminish, the sufferers would be, not the
rich, but the poor in our country villages, who would again be left to
mountebanks, and barbers, and old women, and charms and quack medicines.
The honourable gentleman talks of sacrificing the interests of humanity
to the interests of science, as if this were a question about the
squaring of the circle, or the transit of Venus. This is not a mere
question of science: it is not the unprofitable exercise of an ingenious
mind: it is a question between health and sickness, between ease and
torment, between life and death. Does the honourable gentleman know from
what cruel sufferings the improvement of surgical science has rescued
our species? I will tell him one story, the first that comes into
my head. He may have heard of Leopold, Duke of Austria, the same who
imprisoned our Richard Coeur-de-Lion. Leopold's horse fell under him,
and crushed his leg. The surgeons said that the limb must be amputated;
but none of them knew how to amputate it. Leopold, in his agony, laid a
hatchet on his thigh, and ordered his servant to strike with a mallet.
The leg was cut off, and the Duke died of the gush of blood. Such was
the end of that powerful prince. Why, there is not now a bricklayer who
falls from a ladder in England, who cannot obtain surgical assistance,
infinitely superior to that which the sovereign of Austria could command
in the twelfth century. I think this a bill which tends to the good
of the people, and which tends especially to the good of the poor.
Therefore I support it. If it is unpopular, I am sorry for it. But
I shall cheerfully take my share of its unpopularity. For such, I am
convinced, ought to be the conduct of one whose object it is, not to
flatter the people, but to serve them.
*****
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (FEBRUARY 28, 1832) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN A
COMMITTEE OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 28TH OF FEBRUARY, 1832.
On Tuesday, the twenty-eighth of February, 1832, in the Committee on the
Bill to amend the representation of the people in England and Wales,
the question was put, "That the Tower Hamlets, Middlesex, stand part of
Schedule C. " The opponents of the Bill mustered their whole strength on
this occasion, and were joined by some members who had voted with the
Government on the second reading. The question was carried, however, by
316 votes to 236. The following Speech was made in reply to the Marquess
of Chandos and Sir Edward Sugden, who, on very different grounds,
objected to any increase in the number of metropolitan members.
Mr Bernal,--I have spoken so often on the question of Parliamentary
Reform, that I am very unwilling to occupy the time of the Committee.
But the importance of the amendment proposed by the noble Marquess, and
the peculiar circumstances in which we are placed to-night, make me so
anxious that I cannot remain silent.
In this debate, as in every other debate, our first object should be to
ascertain on which side the burden of the proof lies. Now, it seems to
me quite clear that the burden of the proof lies on those who support
the amendment. I am entitled to take it for granted that it is right and
wise to give representatives to some wealthy and populous places which
have hitherto been unrepresented. To this extent, at least, we all,
with scarcely an exception, now profess ourselves Reformers. There is,
indeed, a great party which still objects to the disfranchising even
of the smallest boroughs. But all the most distinguished chiefs of that
party have, here and elsewhere, admitted that the elective franchise
ought to be given to some great towns which have risen into importance
since our representative system took its present form. If this be so, on
what ground can it be contended that these metropolitan districts ought
not to be represented? Are they inferior in importance to the other
places to which we are all prepared to give members? I use the word
importance with perfect confidence: for, though in our recent debates
there has been some dispute as to the standard by which the importance
of towns is to be measured, there is no room for dispute here.
Here, take what standard you will, the result will be the same. Take
population: take the rental: take the number of ten pound houses: take
the amount of the assessed taxes: take any test in short: take any
number of tests, and combine those tests in any of the ingenious ways
which men of science have suggested: multiply: divide: subtract: add:
try squares or cubes: try square roots or cube roots: you will never be
able to find a pretext for excluding these districts from Schedule C.
If, then, it be acknowledged that the franchise ought to be given
to important places which are at present unrepresented, and if it be
acknowledged that these districts are in importance not inferior to any
place which is at present unrepresented, you are bound to give us strong
reasons for withholding the franchise from these districts.
The honourable and learned gentleman (Sir E. Sugden. ) has tried to give
such reasons; and, in doing so, he has completely refuted the whole
speech of the noble Marquess, with whom he means to divide. (The
Marquess of Chandos. ) The truth is that the noble Marquess and the
honourable and learned gentleman, though they agree in their votes, do
not at all agree in their forebodings or in their ulterior intentions.
The honourable and learned gentleman thinks it dangerous to increase the
number of metropolitan voters. The noble Lord is perfectly willing to
increase the number of metropolitan voters, and objects only to any
increase in the number of metropolitan members. "Will you," says the
honourable and learned gentleman, "be so rash, so insane, as to create
constituent bodies of twenty or thirty thousand electors? " "Yes," says
the noble Marquess, "and much more than that. I will create constituent
bodies of forty thousand, sixty thousand, a hundred thousand. I will add
Marylebone to Westminster. I will add Lambeth to Southwark. I will add
Finsbury and the Tower Hamlets to the City. " The noble Marquess, it
is clear, is not afraid of the excitement which may be produced by the
polling of immense multitudes. Of what then is he afraid? Simply of
eight members: nay, of six members: for he is willing, he tells us, to
add two members to the two who already sit for Middlesex, and who may
be considered as metropolitan members. Are six members, then, so
formidable? I could mention a single peer who now sends more than six
members to the House. But, says the noble Marquess, the members for
the metropolitan districts will be called to a strict account by their
constituents: they will be mere delegates: they will be forced to speak,
not their own sense, but the sense of the capital. I will answer for
it, Sir, that they will not be called to a stricter account than those
gentlemen who are nominated by some great proprietors of boroughs. Is
it not notorious that those who represent it as in the highest degree
pernicious and degrading that a public man should be called to account
by a great city which has intrusted its dearest interests to his care,
do nevertheless think that he is bound by the most sacred ties of
honour to vote according to the wishes of his patron or to apply for the
Chiltern Hundreds? It is a bad thing, I fully admit, that a Member of
Parliament should be a mere delegate. But it is not worse that he should
be the delegate of a hundred thousand people than of one too powerful
individual. What a perverse, what an inconsistent spirit is this; too
proud to bend to the wishes of a nation, yet ready to lick the dust at
the feet of a patron! And how is it proved that a member for Lambeth
or Finsbury will be under a more servile awe of his constituents than
a member for Leicester, or a member for Leicestershire, or a member
for the University of Oxford? Is it not perfectly notorious that many
members voted, year after year, against Catholic Emancipation, simply
because they knew that, if they voted otherwise, they would lose their
seats? No doubt this is an evil. But it is an evil which will exist in
some form or other as long as human nature is the same, as long as
there are men so low-minded as to prefer the gratification of a vulgar
ambition to the approbation of their conscience and the welfare of their
country. Construct your representative system as you will, these men
will always be sycophants. If you give power to Marylebone, they will
fawn on the householders of Marylebone. If you leave power to Gatton,
they will fawn on the proprietor of Gatton. I can see no reason for
believing that their baseness will be more mischievous in the former
case than in the latter.
But, it is said, the power of this huge capital is even now dangerously
great; and will you increase that power? Now, Sir, I am far from denying
that the power of London is, in some sense, dangerously great; but I
altogether deny that the danger will be increased by this bill. It has
always been found that a hundred thousand people congregated close to
the seat of government exercise a greater influence on public affairs
than five hundred thousand dispersed over a remote province. But this
influence is not proportioned to the number of representatives chosen by
the capital. This influence is felt at present, though the greater part
of the capital is unrepresented. This influence is felt in countries
where there is no representative system at all. Indeed, this influence
is nowhere so great as under despotic governments. I need not remind the
Committee that the Caesars, while ruling by the sword, while putting
to death without a trial every senator, every magistrate, who incurred
their displeasure, yet found it necessary to keep the populace of the
imperial city in good humour by distributions of corn and shows of wild
beasts. Every country, from Britain to Egypt, was squeezed for the means
of filling the granaries and adorning the theatres of Rome. On more than
one occasion, long after the Cortes of Castile had become a mere name,
the rabble of Madrid assembled before the royal palace, forced their
King, their absolute King, to appear in the balcony, and exacted from
him a promise that he would dismiss an obnoxious minister. It was in
this way that Charles the Second was forced to part with Oropesa, and
that Charles the Third was forced to part with Squillaci. If there is
any country in the world where pure despotism exists, that country is
Turkey; and yet there is no country in the world where the inhabitants
of the capital are so much dreaded by the government. The Sultan, who
stands in awe of nothing else, stands in awe of the turbulent populace,
which may, at any moment, besiege him in his Seraglio. As soon as
Constantinople is up, everything is conceded. The unpopular edict is
recalled. The unpopular vizier is beheaded. This sort of power has
nothing to do with representation. It depends on physical force and
on vicinity. You do not propose to take this sort of power away from
London. Indeed, you cannot take it away. Nothing can take it away but an
earthquake more terrible than that of Lisbon, or a fire more destructive
than that of 1666. Law can do nothing against this description of power;
for it is a power which is formidable only when law has ceased to exist.
While the reign of law continues, eight votes in a House of six hundred
and fifty-eight Members will hardly do much harm. When the reign of law
is at an end, and the reign of violence commences, the importance of a
million and a half of people, all collected within a walk of the Palace,
of the Parliament House, of the Bank, of the Courts of Justice, will not
be measured by eight or by eighty votes. See, then, what you are doing.
That power which is not dangerous you refuse to London. That power which
is dangerous you leave undiminished; nay, you make it more dangerous
still. For by refusing to let eight or nine hundred thousand people
express their opinions and wishes in a legal and constitutional way, you
increase the risk of disaffection and of tumult. It is not necessary to
have recourse to the speeches or writings of democrats to show that
a represented district is far more likely to be turbulent than an
unrepresented district. Mr Burke, surely not a rash innovator, not
a flatterer of the multitude, described long ago in this place
with admirable eloquence the effect produced by the law which gave
representative institutions to the rebellious mountaineers of Wales.
That law, he said, had been to an agitated nation what the twin stars
celebrated by Horace were to a stormy sea; the wind had fallen; the
clouds had dispersed; the threatening waves had sunk to rest. I have
mentioned the commotions of Madrid and Constantinople. Why is it that
the population of unrepresented London, though physically far more
powerful than the population of Madrid or of Constantinople, has been
far more peaceable? Why have we never seen the inhabitants of the
metropolis besiege St James's, or force their way riotously into this
House? Why, but because they have other means of giving vent to their
feelings, because they enjoy the liberty of unlicensed printing, and the
liberty of holding public meetings. Just as the people of unrepresented
London are more orderly than the people of Constantinople and Madrid, so
will the people of represented London be more orderly than the people of
unrepresented London.
Surely, Sir, nothing can be more absurd than to withhold legal power
from a portion of the community because that portion of the community
possesses natural power. Yet that is precisely what the noble Marquess
would have us do. In all ages a chief cause of the intestine disorders
of states has been that the natural distribution of power and the legal
distribution of power have not corresponded with each other. This is
no newly discovered truth. It was well known to Aristotle more than two
thousand years ago. It is illustrated by every part of ancient and of
modern history, and eminently by the history of England during the last
few months. Our country has been in serious danger; and why? Because
a representative system, framed to suit the England of the thirteenth
century, did not suit the England of the nineteenth century; because an
old wall, the last relique of a departed city, retained the privileges
of that city, while great towns, celebrated all over the world for
wealth and intelligence, had no more share in the government than when
they were still hamlets. The object of this bill is to correct those
monstrous disproportions, and to bring the legal order of society into
something like harmony with the natural order. What, then, can be more
inconsistent with the fundamental principle of the bill than to exclude
any district from a share in the representation, for no reason but
because that district is, and must always be, one of great importance?
This bill was meant to reconcile and unite. Will you frame it in such a
manner that it must inevitably produce irritation and discord? This bill
was meant to be final in the only rational sense of the word final. Will
you frame it in such a way that it must inevitably be shortlived? Is it
to be the first business of the first reformed House of Commons to pass
a new Reform Bill? Gentlemen opposite have often predicted that the
settlement which we are making will not be permanent; and they are now
taking the surest way to accomplish their own prediction. I agree with
them in disliking change merely as change. I would bear with many
things which are indefensible in theory, nay, with some things which are
grievous in practice, rather than venture on a change in the composition
of Parliament. But when such a change is necessary,--and that such a
change is now necessary is admitted by men of all parties,--then I hold
that it ought to be full and effectual. A great crisis may be followed
by the complete restoration of health. But no constitution will bear
perpetual tampering. If the noble Marquess's amendment should unhappily
be carried, it is morally certain that the immense population of
Finsbury, of Marylebone, of Lambeth, of the Tower Hamlets, will,
importunately and clamorously, demand redress from the reformed
Parliament. That Parliament, you tell us, will be much more
democratically inclined than the Parliaments of past times. If so, how
can you expect that it will resist the urgent demands of a million of
people close to its door? These eight seats will be given. More than
eight seats will be given. The whole question of Reform will be opened
again; and the blame will rest on those who will, by mutilating this
great law in an essential part, cause hundreds of thousands who now
regard it as a boon to regard it as an outrage.
Sir, our word is pledged. Let us remember the solemn promise which we
gave to the nation last October at a perilous conjuncture. That promise
was that we would stand firmly by the principles and leading provisions
of the Reform Bill. Our sincerity is now brought to the test. One of the
leading provisions of the bill is in danger. The question is, not merely
whether these districts shall be represented, but whether we will keep
the faith which we plighted to our countrymen. Let us be firm. Let us
make no concession to those who, having in vain tried to throw the bill
out, are now trying to fritter it away. An attempt has been made to
induce the Irish members to vote against the government. It has been
hinted that, perhaps, some of the seats taken from the metropolis may be
given to Ireland. Our Irish friends will, I doubt not, remember that
the very persons who offer this bribe exerted themselves not long ago
to raise a cry against the proposition to give additional members to
Belfast, Limerick, Waterford, and Galway. The truth is that our enemies
wish only to divide us, and care not by what means. One day they try
to excite jealousy among the English by asserting that the plan of the
government is too favourable to Ireland. Next day they try to bribe the
Irish to desert us, by promising to give something to Ireland at the
expense of England. Let us disappoint these cunning men. Let us, from
whatever part of the United Kingdom we come, be true to each other and
to the good cause. We have the confidence of our country. We have justly
earned it. For God's sake let us not throw it away. Other occasions may
arise on which honest Reformers may fairly take different sides. But
to-night he that is not with us is against us.
*****
REPEAL OF THE UNION WITH IRELAND. (FEBRUARY 6, 1833) A SPEECH DELIVERED
IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 6TH OF FEBRUARY 1833.
On the twenty-ninth of January 1833, the first Parliament elected under
the Reform Act of 1832 met at Westminster. On the fifth of February,
King William the Fourth made a speech from the throne, in which he
expressed his hope that the Houses would entrust him with such powers as
might be necessary for maintaining order in Ireland and for preserving
and strengthening the union between that country and Great Britain.
An Address, assuring His Majesty of the concurrence and support of the
Commons, was moved by Lord Ormelie and seconded by Mr John Marshall.
Mr O'Connell opposed the Address, and moved, as an amendment, that the
House should resolve itself into a Committee. After a discussion of
four nights the amendment was rejected by 428 votes to 40. On the second
night of the debate the following Speech was made.
Last night, Sir, I thought that it would not be necessary for me to take
any part in the present debate: but the appeal which has this evening
been made to me by my honourable friend the Member for Lincoln (Mr
Edward Lytton Bulwer. ) has forced me to rise. I will, however, postpone
the few words which I have to say in defence of my own consistency, till
I have expressed my opinion on the much more important subject which is
before the House.
My honourable friend tells us that we are now called upon to make a
choice between two modes of pacifying Ireland; that the government
recommends coercion; that the honourable and learned Member for Dublin
(Mr O'Connell. ) recommends redress; and that it is our duty to try the
effect of redress before we have recourse to coercion. The antithesis is
framed with all the ingenuity which is characteristic of my honourable
friend's style; but I cannot help thinking that, on this occasion,
his ingenuity has imposed on himself, and that he has not sufficiently
considered the meaning of the pointed phrase which he used with so much
effect. Redress is no doubt a very well sounding word. What can be more
reasonable than to ask for redress? What more unjust than to refuse
redress? But my honourable friend will perceive, on reflection, that,
though he and the honourable and learned Member for Dublin agree in
pronouncing the word redress, they agree in nothing else. They utter the
same sound; but they attach to it two diametrically opposite meanings.
The honourable and learned Member for Dublin means by redress simply
the Repeal of the Union. Now, to the Repeal of the Union my honourable
friend the Member for Lincoln is decidedly adverse. When we get at his
real meaning, we find that he is just as unwilling as we are to give the
redress which the honourable and learned Member for Dublin demands. Only
a small minority of the House will, I hope, and believe, vote with that
honourable and learned member; but the minority which thinks with him
will be very much smaller.
We have, indeed, been told by some gentlemen, who are not themselves
repealers, that the question of Repeal deserves a much more serious
consideration than it has yet received. Repeal, they say, is an object
on which millions have, however unwisely, set their hearts; and men
who speak in the name of millions are not to be coughed down or sneered
down. That which a suffering nation regards, rightly or wrongly, as the
sole cure for all its distempers, ought not to be treated with levity,
but to be the subject of full and solemn debate. All this, Sir, is most
true: but I am surprised that this lecture should have been read to
us who sit on your right. It would, I apprehend, have been with more
propriety addressed to a different quarter. Whose fault is it that we
have not yet had, and that there is no prospect of our having, this full
and solemn debate?
Is it the fault of His Majesty's Ministers? Have
not they framed the Speech which their Royal Master delivered from the
throne, in such a manner as to invite the grave and searching discussion
of the question of Repeal? and has not the invitation been declined? Is
it not fresh in our recollection that the honourable and learned Member
for Dublin spoke two hours, perhaps three hours,--nobody keeps accurate
account of time while he speaks,--but two or three hours without
venturing to join issue with us on this subject? In truth, he suffered
judgment to go against him by default. We, on this side of the House,
did our best to provoke him to the conflict. We called on him to
maintain here those doctrines which he had proclaimed elsewhere with so
much vehemence, and, I am sorry to be forced to add, with a scurrility
unworthy of his parts and eloquence. Never was a challenge more fairly
given: but it was not accepted. The great champion of Repeal would not
lift our glove. He shrank back; he skulked away; not, assuredly, from
distrust of his powers, which have never been more vigorously exerted
than in this debate, but evidently from distrust of his cause. I have
seldom heard so able a speech as his: I certainly never heard a speech
so evasive. From the beginning to the end he studiously avoided saying
a single word tending to raise a discussion about that Repeal which, in
other places, he constantly affirms to be the sole panacea for all the
evils by which his country is afflicted. Nor is this all. Yesterday
night he placed on our order-book not less than fourteen notices; and
of those notices not a single one had any reference to the Union between
Great Britain and Ireland. It is therefore evident to me, not only that
the honourable and learned gentleman is not now prepared to debate the
question in this House, but that he has no intention of debating it in
this House at all. He keeps it, and prudently keeps it, for audiences of
a very different kind. I am therefore, I repeat, surprised to hear
the Government accused of avoiding the discussion of this subject. Why
should we avoid a battle in which the bold and skilful captain of the
enemy evidently knows that we must be victorious?
One gentleman, though not a repealer, has begged us not to declare
ourselves decidedly adverse to repeal till we have studied the petitions
which are coming in from Ireland. Really, Sir, this is not a subject on
which any public man ought to be now making up his mind. My mind is made
up. My reasons are such as, I am certain, no petition from Ireland will
confute. Those reasons have long been ready to be produced; and, since
we are accused of flinching, I will at once produce them. I am prepared
to show that the Repeal of the Union would not remove the political and
social evils which afflict Ireland, nay, that it would aggravate almost
every one of those evils.
I understand, though I do not approve, the proceedings of poor Wolfe
Tone and his confederates. They wished to make a complete separation
between Great Britain and Ireland. They wished to establish a Hibernian
republic. Their plan was a very bad one; but, to do them justice, it
was perfectly consistent; and an ingenious man might defend it by some
plausible arguments. But that is not the plan of the honourable and
learned Member for Dublin. He assures us that he wishes the connection
between the islands to be perpetual. He is for a complete separation
between the two Parliaments; but he is for indissoluble union between
the two Crowns. Nor does the honourable and learned gentleman mean, by
an union between the Crowns, such an union as exists between the Crown
of this kingdom and the Crown of Hanover. For I need not say that,
though the same person is king of Great Britain and of Hanover, there
is no more political connection between Great Britain and Hanover than
between Great Britain and Hesse, or between Great Britain and Bavaria.
Hanover may be at peace with a state with which Great Britain is at war.
Nay, Hanover may, as a member of the Germanic body, send a contingent of
troops to cross bayonets with the King's English footguards. This is not
the relation in which the honourable and learned gentleman proposes that
Great Britain and Ireland should stand to each other. His plan is, that
each of the two countries shall have an independent legislature, but
that both shall have the same executive government. Now, is it possible
that a mind so acute and so well informed as his should not at
once perceive that this plan involves an absurdity, a downright
contradiction. Two independent legislatures! One executive government!
How can the thing be? No doubt, if the legislative power were quite
distinct from the executive power, England and Ireland might as easily
have two legislatures as two Chancellors and two Courts of King's Bench.
But though, in books written by theorists, the executive power and the
legislative power may be treated as things quite distinct, every man
acquainted with the real working of our constitution knows that the two
powers are most closely connected, nay, intermingled with each other.
During several generations, the whole administration of affairs has
been conducted in conformity with the sense of Parliament. About
every exercise of the prerogative of the Crown it is the privilege
of Parliament to offer advice; and that advice no wise king will
ever slight. It is the prerogative of the Sovereign to choose his own
servants; but it is impossible for him to maintain them in office unless
Parliament will support them. It is the prerogative of the Sovereign to
treat with other princes; but it is impossible for him to persist in any
scheme of foreign policy which is disagreeable to Parliament. It is
the prerogative of the Sovereign to make war; but he cannot raise a
battalion or man a frigate without the help of Parliament. The repealers
may therefore be refuted out of their own mouths. They say that
Great Britain and Ireland ought to have one executive power. But
the legislature has a most important share of the executive power.
Therefore, by the confession of the repealers themselves, Great Britain
and Ireland ought to have one legislature.
Consider for one moment in what a situation the executive government
will be placed if you have two independent legislatures, and if those
legislatures should differ, as all bodies which are independent of each
other will sometimes differ. Suppose the case of a commercial treaty
which is unpopular in England and popular in Ireland. The Irish
Parliament expresses its approbation of the terms, and passes a vote
of thanks to the negotiator. We at Westminster censure the terms and
impeach the negotiator. Or are we to have two foreign offices, one in
Downing Street and one in Dublin Castle? Is His Majesty to send to every
court in Christendom two diplomatic agents, to thwart each other, and
to be spies upon each other? It is inconceivable but that, in a very
few years, disputes such as can be terminated only by arms must arise
between communities so absurdly united and so absurdly disunited. All
history confirms this reasoning. Superficial observers have fancied that
they had found cases on the other side. But as soon as you examine those
cases you will see either that they bear no analogy to the case with
which we have to deal, or that they corroborate my argument. The case
of Ireland herself has been cited. Ireland, it has been said, had an
independent legislature from 1782 to 1800: during eighteen years there
were two coequal parliaments under one Crown; and yet there was no
collision. Sir, the reason that there was not perpetual collision was,
as we all know, that the Irish parliament, though nominally independent,
was generally kept in real dependence by means of the foulest corruption
that ever existed in any assembly. But it is not true that there was no
collision. Before the Irish legislature had been six years independent,
a collision did take place, a collision such as might well have produced
a civil war. In the year 1788, George the Third was incapacitated
by illness from discharging his regal functions. According to the
constitution, the duty of making provision for the discharge of those
functions devolved on the parliaments of Great Britain and Ireland.
Between the government of Great Britain and the government of Ireland
there was, during the interregnum, no connection whatever. The sovereign
who was the common head of both governments had virtually ceased to
exist: and the two legislatures were no more to each other than
this House and the Chamber of Deputies at Paris. What followed? The
Parliament of Great Britain resolved to offer the Regency to the Prince
of Wales under many important restrictions. The Parliament of Ireland
made him an offer of the Regency without any restrictions whatever. By
the same right by which the Irish Lords and Commons made that offer,
they might, if Mr Pitt's doctrine be the constitutional doctrine, as
I believe it to be, have made the Duke of York or the Duke of Leinster
Regent. To this Regent they might have given all the prerogatives of the
King. Suppose,--no extravagant supposition,--that George the Third
had not recovered, that the rest of his long life had been passed
in seclusion, Great Britain and Ireland would then have been, during
thirty-two years, as completely separated as Great Britain and Spain.
There would have been nothing in common between the governments, neither
executive power nor legislative power. It is plain, therefore, that a
total separation between the two islands might, in the natural course of
things, and without the smallest violation of the constitution on either
side, be the effect of the arrangement recommended by the honourable and
learned gentleman, who solemnly declares that he should consider such a
separation as the greatest of calamities.
No doubt, Sir, in several continental kingdoms there have been two
legislatures, and indeed more than two legislatures, under the same
Crown. But the explanation is simple. Those legislatures were of no real
weight in the government. Under Louis the Fourteenth Brittany had its
States; Burgundy had its States; and yet there was no collision between
the States of Brittany and the States of Burgundy. But why? Because
neither the States of Brittany nor the States of Burgundy imposed
any real restraint on the arbitrary power of the monarch. So, in
the dominions of the House of Hapsburg, there is the semblance of a
legislature in Hungary and the semblance of a legislature in the Tyrol:
but all the real power is with the Emperor. I do not say that you cannot
have one executive power and two mock parliaments, two parliaments which
merely transact parish business, two parliaments which exercise no more
influence on great affairs of state than the vestry of St Pancras or the
vestry of Marylebone. What I do say, and what common sense teaches, and
what all history teaches, is this, that you cannot have one executive
power and two real parliaments, two parliaments possessing such
powers as the parliament of this country has possessed ever since
the Revolution, two parliaments to the deliberate sense of which the
Sovereign must conform. If they differ, how can he conform to the sense
of both? The thing is as plain as a proposition in Euclid.
It is impossible for me to believe that considerations so obvious and so
important should not have occurred to the honourable and learned Member
for Dublin. Doubtless they have occurred to him; and therefore it
is that he shrinks from arguing the question here. Nay, even when he
harangues more credulous assemblies on the subject, he carefully avoids
precise explanations; and the hints which sometimes escape him are
not easily to be reconciled with each other. On one occasion, if
the newspapers are to be trusted, he declared that his object was to
establish a federal union between Great Britain and Ireland. A local
parliament, it seems, is to sit at Dublin, and to send deputies to an
imperial parliament which is to sit at Westminster. The honourable and
learned gentleman thinks, I suppose, that in this way he evades the
difficulties which I have pointed out. But he deceives himself.
If, indeed, his local legislature is to be subject to his imperial
legislature, if his local legislature is to be merely what the Assembly
of Antigua or Barbadoes is, or what the Irish Parliament was before
1782, the danger of collision is no doubt removed: but what, on the
honourable and learned gentleman's own principles, would Ireland gain by
such an arrangement? If, on the other hand, his local legislature is
to be for certain purposes independent, you have again the risk of
collision. Suppose that a difference of opinion should arise between the
Imperial Parliament and the Irish Parliament as to the limits of their
powers, who is to decide between them? A dispute between the House of
Commons and the House of Lords is bad enough. Yet in that case, the
Sovereign can, by a high exercise of his prerogative, produce harmony.
He can send us back to our constituents; and, if that expedient fails,
he can create more lords. When, in 1705, the dispute between the
Houses about the Aylesbury men ran high, Queen Anne restored concord by
dismissing the Parliament. Seven years later she put an end to another
conflict between the Houses by making twelve peers in one day. But who
is to arbitrate between two representative bodies chosen by different
constituent bodies? Look at what is now passing in America. Of all
federal constitutions that of the United States is the best. It was
framed by a convention which contained many wise and experienced men,
and over which Washington presided. Yet there is a debateable ground on
the frontier which separates the functions of Congress from those of
the state legislatures. A dispute as to the exact boundary has lately
arisen. Neither party seems disposed to yield: and, if both persist,
there can be no umpire but the sword.
For my part, Sir, I have no hesitation in saying that I should very
greatly prefer the total separation which the honourable and learned
gentleman professes to consider as a calamity, to the partial separation
which he has taught his countrymen to regard as a blessing. If, on a
fair trial, it be found that Great Britain and Ireland cannot exist
happily together as parts of one empire, in God's name let them
separate. I wish to see them joined as the limbs of a well formed body
are joined. In such a body the members assist each other: they are
nourished by the same food: if one member suffer, all suffer with it:
if one member rejoice, all rejoice with it. But I do not wish to see the
countries united, like those wretched twins from Siam who were exhibited
here a little while ago, by an unnatural ligament which made each the
constant plague of the other, always in each other's way, more helpless
than others because they had twice as many hands, slower than others
because they had twice as many legs, sympathising with each other only
in evil, not feeling each other's pleasures, not supported by each
other's aliments, but tormented by each other's infirmities, and certain
to perish miserably by each other's dissolution.
Ireland has undoubtedly just causes of complaint. We heard those causes
recapitulated last night by the honourable and learned Member, who tells
us that he represents not Dublin alone, but Ireland, and that he stands
between his country and civil war. I do not deny that most of the
grievances which he recounted exist, that they are serious, and that
they ought to be remedied as far as it is in the power of legislation to
remedy them. What I do deny is that they were caused by the Union, and
that the Repeal of the Union would remove them. I listened attentively
while the honourable and learned gentleman went through that long and
melancholy list: and I am confident that he did not mention a single
evil which was not a subject of bitter complaint while Ireland had a
domestic parliament. Is it fair, is it reasonable in the honourable
gentleman to impute to the Union evils which, as he knows better than
any other man in this house, existed long before the Union? Post hoc:
ergo, propter hoc is not always sound reasoning. But ante hoc: ergo,
non propter hoc is unanswerable. The old rustic who told Sir Thomas
More that Tenterden steeple was the cause of Godwin sands reasoned much
better than the honourable and learned gentleman. For it was not till
after Tenterden steeple was built that the frightful wrecks on the
Godwin sands were heard of. But the honourable and learned gentleman
would make Godwin sands the cause of Tenterden steeple. Some of the
Irish grievances which he ascribes to the Union are not only older than
the Union, but are not peculiarly Irish. They are common to England,
Scotland, and Ireland; and it was in order to get rid of them that we,
for the common benefit of England, Scotland, and Ireland, passed the
Reform Bill last year. Other grievances which the honourable and learned
gentleman mentioned are doubtless local; but is there to be a local
legislature wherever there is a local grievance? Wales has had local
grievances. We all remember the complaints which were made a few years
ago about the Welsh judicial system; but did anybody therefore propose
that Wales should have a distinct parliament? Cornwall has some local
grievances; but does anybody propose that Cornwall shall have its own
House of Lords and its own House of Commons? Leeds has local grievances.
The majority of my constituents distrust and dislike the municipal
government to which they are subject; they therefore call loudly on
us for corporation reform: but they do not ask us for a separate
legislature. Of this I am quite sure, that every argument which has been
urged for the purpose of showing that Great Britain and Ireland ought
to have two distinct parliaments may be urged with far greater force
for the purpose of showing that the north of Ireland and the south of
Ireland ought to have two distinct parliaments. The House of Commons of
the United Kingdom, it has been said, is chiefly elected by Protestants,
and therefore cannot be trusted to legislate for Catholic Ireland.
If this be so, how can an Irish House of Commons, chiefly elected
by Catholics, be trusted to legislate for Protestant Ulster? It is
perfectly notorious that theological antipathies are stronger in Ireland
than here. I appeal to the honourable and learned gentleman himself. He
has often declared that it is impossible for a Roman Catholic, whether
prosecutor or culprit, to obtain justice from a jury of Orangemen. It
is indeed certain that, in blood, religion, language, habits, character,
the population of some of the northern counties of Ireland has much
more in common with the population of England and Scotland than with the
population of Munster and Connaught. I defy the honourable and learned
Member, therefore, to find a reason for having a parliament at Dublin
which will not be just as good a reason for having another parliament at
Londonderry.
Sir, in showing, as I think I have shown, the absurdity of this cry for
Repeal, I have in a great measure vindicated myself from the charge of
inconsistency which has been brought against me by my honourable friend
the Member for Lincoln. It is very easy to bring a volume of Hansard to
the House, to read a few sentences of a speech made in very different
circumstances, and to say, "Last year you were for pacifying England by
concession: this year you are for pacifying Ireland by coercion. How can
you vindicate your consistency? " Surely my honourable friend cannot
but know that nothing is easier than to write a theme for severity, for
clemency, for order, for liberty, for a contemplative life, for a active
life, and so on. It was a common exercise in the ancient schools of
rhetoric to take an abstract question, and to harangue first on one side
and then on the other. The question, Ought popular discontents to be
quieted by concession or coercion? would have been a very good subject
for oratory of this kind. There is no lack of commonplaces on either
side. But when we come to the real business of life, the value of these
commonplaces depends entirely on the particular circumstances of the
case which we are discussing. Nothing is easier than to write a treatise
proving that it is lawful to resist extreme tyranny. Nothing is easier
than to write a treatise setting forth the wickedness of wantonly
bringing on a great society the miseries inseparable from revolution,
the bloodshed, the spoliation, the anarchy. Both treatises may contain
much that is true; but neither will enable us to decide whether a
particular insurrection is or is not justifiable without a close
examination of the facts. There is surely no inconsistency in speaking
with respect of the memory of Lord Russell and with horror of the crime
of Thistlewood; and, in my opinion, the conduct of Russell and the
conduct of Thistlewood did not differ more widely than the cry for
Parliamentary Reform and the cry for the Repeal of the Union. The Reform
Bill I believe to be a blessing to the nation. Repeal I know to be a
mere delusion. I know it to be impracticable: and I know that, if it
were practicable, it would be pernicious to every part of the empire,
and utterly ruinous to Ireland. Is it not then absurd to say that,
because I wished last year to quiet the English people by giving them
that which was beneficial to them, I am therefore bound in consistency
to quiet the Irish people this year by giving them that which will
be fatal to them? I utterly deny, too, that, in consenting to arm the
government with extraordinary powers for the purpose of repressing
disturbances in Ireland, I am guilty of the smallest inconsistency. On
what occasion did I ever refuse to support any government in repressing
disturbances? It is perfectly true that, in the debates on the Reform
Bill, I imputed the tumults and outrages of 1830 to misrule. But did I
ever say that those tumults and outrages ought to be tolerated? I did
attribute the Kentish riots, the Hampshire riots, the burning of corn
stacks, the destruction of threshing machines, to the obstinacy with
which the Ministers of the Crown had refused to listen to the demands
of the people. But did I ever say that the rioters ought not to be
imprisoned, that the incendiaries ought not to be hanged? I did ascribe
the disorders of Nottingham and the fearful sacking of Bristol to the
unwise rejection of the Reform Bill by the Lords. But did I ever say
that such excesses as were committed at Nottingham and Bristol ought not
to be put down, if necessary, by the sword?
I would act towards Ireland on the same principles on which I acted
towards England. In Ireland, as in England, I would remove every just
cause of complaint; and in Ireland, as in England, I would support the
Government in preserving the public peace. What is there inconsistent
in this? My honourable friend seems to think that no person who believes
that disturbances have been caused by maladministration can consistently
lend his help to put down those disturbances. If that be so, the
honourable and learned Member for Dublin is quite as inconsistent as
I am; indeed, much more so; for he thinks very much worse of the
Government than I do; and yet he declares himself willing to assist
the Government in quelling the tumults which, as he assures us, its own
misconduct is likely to produce. He told us yesterday that our harsh
policy might perhaps goad the unthinking populace of Ireland into
insurrection; and he added that, if there should be insurrection, he
should, while execrating us as the authors of all the mischief, be found
in our ranks, and should be ready to support us in everything that
might be necessary for the restoration of order. As to this part of the
subject, there is no difference in principle between the honourable and
learned gentleman and myself. In his opinion, it is probable that a time
may soon come when vigorous coercion may be necessary, and when it may
be the duty of every friend of Ireland to co-operate in the work of
coercion. In my opinion, that time has already come. The grievances of
Ireland are doubtless great, so great that I never would have connected
myself with a Government which I did not believe to be intent on
redressing those grievances. But am I, because the grievances of Ireland
are great, and ought to be redressed, to abstain from redressing the
worst grievance of all? Am I to look on quietly while the laws are
insulted by a furious rabble, while houses are plundered and burned,
while my peaceable fellow-subjects are butchered? The distribution of
Church property, you tell us, is unjust. Perhaps I agree with you.
But what then? To what purpose is it to talk about the distribution of
Church property, while no property is secure? Then you try to deter us
from putting down robbery, arson, and murder, by telling us that if we
resort to coercion we shall raise a civil war. We are past that fear.
Recollect that, in one county alone, there have been within a few
weeks sixty murders or assaults with intent to murder and six hundred
burglaries. Since we parted last summer the slaughter in Ireland has
exceeded the slaughter of a pitched battle: the destruction of property
has been as great as would have been caused by the storming of three or
four towns. Civil war, indeed! I would rather live in the midst of any
civil war that we have had in England during the last two hundred
years than in some parts of Ireland at the present moment. Rather, much
rather, would I have lived on the line of march of the Pretender's army
in 1745 than in Tipperary now. It is idle to threaten us with civil war;
for we have it already; and it is because we are resolved to put an
end to it that we are called base, and brutal, and bloody. Such are the
epithets which the honourable and learned Member for Dublin thinks
it becoming to pour forth against the party to which he owes every
political privilege that he enjoys. He need not fear that any member
of that party will be provoked into a conflict of scurrility. Use
makes even sensitive minds callous to invective: and, copious as his
vocabulary is, he will not easily find in it any foul name which has not
been many times applied to those who sit around me, on account of the
zeal and steadiness with which they supported the emancipation of
the Roman Catholics. His reproaches are not more stinging than the
reproaches which, in times not very remote, we endured unflinchingly in
his cause. I can assure him that men who faced the cry of No Popery are
not likely to be scared by the cry of Repeal. The time will come when
history will do justice to the Whigs of England, and will faithfully
relate how much they did and suffered for Ireland; how, for the sake of
Ireland, they quitted office in 1807; how, for the sake of Ireland, they
remained out of office more than twenty years, braving the frowns of
the Court, braving the hisses of the multitude, renouncing power,
and patronage, and salaries, and peerages, and garters, and yet not
obtaining in return even a little fleeting popularity. I see on the
benches near me men who might, by uttering one word against Catholic
Emancipation, nay, by merely abstaining from uttering a word in favour
of Catholic Emancipation, have been returned to this House without
difficulty or expense, and who, rather than wrong their Irish
fellow-subjects, were content to relinquish all the objects of their
honourable ambition, and to retire into private life with conscience
and fame untarnished. As to one eminent person, who seems to be regarded
with especial malevolence by those who ought never to mention his name
without reverence and gratitude, I will say only this: that the loudest
clamour which the honourable and learned gentleman can excite against
Lord Grey will be trifling when compared with the clamour which Lord
Grey withstood in order to place the honourable and learned gentleman
where he now sits.
are exposed. What man, in our rank of life, runs the smallest risk of
being Burked? That a man has property, that he has connections, that he
is likely to be missed and sought for, are circumstances which secure
him against the Burker. It is curious to observe the difference between
murders of this kind and other murders. An ordinary murder hides the
body, and disposes of the property. Bishop and Williams dig holes and
bury the property, and expose the body to sale. The more wretched, the
more lonely, any human being may be, the more desirable prey is he to
these wretches. It is the man, the mere naked man, that they pursue.
Again, as to bad surgery; this is, of all evils, the evil by which the
rich suffer least, and the poor most. If we could do all that in the
opinion of the Member for Preston ought to be done, if we could destroy
the English school of anatomy, if we could force every student of
medical science to go to the expense of a foreign education, on whom
would the bad consequences fall? On the rich? Not at all. As long as
there is in France, in Italy, in Germany, a single surgeon of eminent
skill, a single surgeon who is, to use the phrase of the member for
Preston, addicted to dissection, that surgeon will be in attendance
whenever an English nobleman is to be cut for the stone. The higher
orders in England will always be able to procure the best medical
assistance. Who suffers by the bad state of the Russian school of
surgery? The Emperor Nicholas? By no means. The whole evil falls on the
peasantry. If the education of a surgeon should become very extensive,
if the fees of surgeons should consequently rise, if the supply of
regular surgeons should diminish, the sufferers would be, not the
rich, but the poor in our country villages, who would again be left to
mountebanks, and barbers, and old women, and charms and quack medicines.
The honourable gentleman talks of sacrificing the interests of humanity
to the interests of science, as if this were a question about the
squaring of the circle, or the transit of Venus. This is not a mere
question of science: it is not the unprofitable exercise of an ingenious
mind: it is a question between health and sickness, between ease and
torment, between life and death. Does the honourable gentleman know from
what cruel sufferings the improvement of surgical science has rescued
our species? I will tell him one story, the first that comes into
my head. He may have heard of Leopold, Duke of Austria, the same who
imprisoned our Richard Coeur-de-Lion. Leopold's horse fell under him,
and crushed his leg. The surgeons said that the limb must be amputated;
but none of them knew how to amputate it. Leopold, in his agony, laid a
hatchet on his thigh, and ordered his servant to strike with a mallet.
The leg was cut off, and the Duke died of the gush of blood. Such was
the end of that powerful prince. Why, there is not now a bricklayer who
falls from a ladder in England, who cannot obtain surgical assistance,
infinitely superior to that which the sovereign of Austria could command
in the twelfth century. I think this a bill which tends to the good
of the people, and which tends especially to the good of the poor.
Therefore I support it. If it is unpopular, I am sorry for it. But
I shall cheerfully take my share of its unpopularity. For such, I am
convinced, ought to be the conduct of one whose object it is, not to
flatter the people, but to serve them.
*****
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (FEBRUARY 28, 1832) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN A
COMMITTEE OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 28TH OF FEBRUARY, 1832.
On Tuesday, the twenty-eighth of February, 1832, in the Committee on the
Bill to amend the representation of the people in England and Wales,
the question was put, "That the Tower Hamlets, Middlesex, stand part of
Schedule C. " The opponents of the Bill mustered their whole strength on
this occasion, and were joined by some members who had voted with the
Government on the second reading. The question was carried, however, by
316 votes to 236. The following Speech was made in reply to the Marquess
of Chandos and Sir Edward Sugden, who, on very different grounds,
objected to any increase in the number of metropolitan members.
Mr Bernal,--I have spoken so often on the question of Parliamentary
Reform, that I am very unwilling to occupy the time of the Committee.
But the importance of the amendment proposed by the noble Marquess, and
the peculiar circumstances in which we are placed to-night, make me so
anxious that I cannot remain silent.
In this debate, as in every other debate, our first object should be to
ascertain on which side the burden of the proof lies. Now, it seems to
me quite clear that the burden of the proof lies on those who support
the amendment. I am entitled to take it for granted that it is right and
wise to give representatives to some wealthy and populous places which
have hitherto been unrepresented. To this extent, at least, we all,
with scarcely an exception, now profess ourselves Reformers. There is,
indeed, a great party which still objects to the disfranchising even
of the smallest boroughs. But all the most distinguished chiefs of that
party have, here and elsewhere, admitted that the elective franchise
ought to be given to some great towns which have risen into importance
since our representative system took its present form. If this be so, on
what ground can it be contended that these metropolitan districts ought
not to be represented? Are they inferior in importance to the other
places to which we are all prepared to give members? I use the word
importance with perfect confidence: for, though in our recent debates
there has been some dispute as to the standard by which the importance
of towns is to be measured, there is no room for dispute here.
Here, take what standard you will, the result will be the same. Take
population: take the rental: take the number of ten pound houses: take
the amount of the assessed taxes: take any test in short: take any
number of tests, and combine those tests in any of the ingenious ways
which men of science have suggested: multiply: divide: subtract: add:
try squares or cubes: try square roots or cube roots: you will never be
able to find a pretext for excluding these districts from Schedule C.
If, then, it be acknowledged that the franchise ought to be given
to important places which are at present unrepresented, and if it be
acknowledged that these districts are in importance not inferior to any
place which is at present unrepresented, you are bound to give us strong
reasons for withholding the franchise from these districts.
The honourable and learned gentleman (Sir E. Sugden. ) has tried to give
such reasons; and, in doing so, he has completely refuted the whole
speech of the noble Marquess, with whom he means to divide. (The
Marquess of Chandos. ) The truth is that the noble Marquess and the
honourable and learned gentleman, though they agree in their votes, do
not at all agree in their forebodings or in their ulterior intentions.
The honourable and learned gentleman thinks it dangerous to increase the
number of metropolitan voters. The noble Lord is perfectly willing to
increase the number of metropolitan voters, and objects only to any
increase in the number of metropolitan members. "Will you," says the
honourable and learned gentleman, "be so rash, so insane, as to create
constituent bodies of twenty or thirty thousand electors? " "Yes," says
the noble Marquess, "and much more than that. I will create constituent
bodies of forty thousand, sixty thousand, a hundred thousand. I will add
Marylebone to Westminster. I will add Lambeth to Southwark. I will add
Finsbury and the Tower Hamlets to the City. " The noble Marquess, it
is clear, is not afraid of the excitement which may be produced by the
polling of immense multitudes. Of what then is he afraid? Simply of
eight members: nay, of six members: for he is willing, he tells us, to
add two members to the two who already sit for Middlesex, and who may
be considered as metropolitan members. Are six members, then, so
formidable? I could mention a single peer who now sends more than six
members to the House. But, says the noble Marquess, the members for
the metropolitan districts will be called to a strict account by their
constituents: they will be mere delegates: they will be forced to speak,
not their own sense, but the sense of the capital. I will answer for
it, Sir, that they will not be called to a stricter account than those
gentlemen who are nominated by some great proprietors of boroughs. Is
it not notorious that those who represent it as in the highest degree
pernicious and degrading that a public man should be called to account
by a great city which has intrusted its dearest interests to his care,
do nevertheless think that he is bound by the most sacred ties of
honour to vote according to the wishes of his patron or to apply for the
Chiltern Hundreds? It is a bad thing, I fully admit, that a Member of
Parliament should be a mere delegate. But it is not worse that he should
be the delegate of a hundred thousand people than of one too powerful
individual. What a perverse, what an inconsistent spirit is this; too
proud to bend to the wishes of a nation, yet ready to lick the dust at
the feet of a patron! And how is it proved that a member for Lambeth
or Finsbury will be under a more servile awe of his constituents than
a member for Leicester, or a member for Leicestershire, or a member
for the University of Oxford? Is it not perfectly notorious that many
members voted, year after year, against Catholic Emancipation, simply
because they knew that, if they voted otherwise, they would lose their
seats? No doubt this is an evil. But it is an evil which will exist in
some form or other as long as human nature is the same, as long as
there are men so low-minded as to prefer the gratification of a vulgar
ambition to the approbation of their conscience and the welfare of their
country. Construct your representative system as you will, these men
will always be sycophants. If you give power to Marylebone, they will
fawn on the householders of Marylebone. If you leave power to Gatton,
they will fawn on the proprietor of Gatton. I can see no reason for
believing that their baseness will be more mischievous in the former
case than in the latter.
But, it is said, the power of this huge capital is even now dangerously
great; and will you increase that power? Now, Sir, I am far from denying
that the power of London is, in some sense, dangerously great; but I
altogether deny that the danger will be increased by this bill. It has
always been found that a hundred thousand people congregated close to
the seat of government exercise a greater influence on public affairs
than five hundred thousand dispersed over a remote province. But this
influence is not proportioned to the number of representatives chosen by
the capital. This influence is felt at present, though the greater part
of the capital is unrepresented. This influence is felt in countries
where there is no representative system at all. Indeed, this influence
is nowhere so great as under despotic governments. I need not remind the
Committee that the Caesars, while ruling by the sword, while putting
to death without a trial every senator, every magistrate, who incurred
their displeasure, yet found it necessary to keep the populace of the
imperial city in good humour by distributions of corn and shows of wild
beasts. Every country, from Britain to Egypt, was squeezed for the means
of filling the granaries and adorning the theatres of Rome. On more than
one occasion, long after the Cortes of Castile had become a mere name,
the rabble of Madrid assembled before the royal palace, forced their
King, their absolute King, to appear in the balcony, and exacted from
him a promise that he would dismiss an obnoxious minister. It was in
this way that Charles the Second was forced to part with Oropesa, and
that Charles the Third was forced to part with Squillaci. If there is
any country in the world where pure despotism exists, that country is
Turkey; and yet there is no country in the world where the inhabitants
of the capital are so much dreaded by the government. The Sultan, who
stands in awe of nothing else, stands in awe of the turbulent populace,
which may, at any moment, besiege him in his Seraglio. As soon as
Constantinople is up, everything is conceded. The unpopular edict is
recalled. The unpopular vizier is beheaded. This sort of power has
nothing to do with representation. It depends on physical force and
on vicinity. You do not propose to take this sort of power away from
London. Indeed, you cannot take it away. Nothing can take it away but an
earthquake more terrible than that of Lisbon, or a fire more destructive
than that of 1666. Law can do nothing against this description of power;
for it is a power which is formidable only when law has ceased to exist.
While the reign of law continues, eight votes in a House of six hundred
and fifty-eight Members will hardly do much harm. When the reign of law
is at an end, and the reign of violence commences, the importance of a
million and a half of people, all collected within a walk of the Palace,
of the Parliament House, of the Bank, of the Courts of Justice, will not
be measured by eight or by eighty votes. See, then, what you are doing.
That power which is not dangerous you refuse to London. That power which
is dangerous you leave undiminished; nay, you make it more dangerous
still. For by refusing to let eight or nine hundred thousand people
express their opinions and wishes in a legal and constitutional way, you
increase the risk of disaffection and of tumult. It is not necessary to
have recourse to the speeches or writings of democrats to show that
a represented district is far more likely to be turbulent than an
unrepresented district. Mr Burke, surely not a rash innovator, not
a flatterer of the multitude, described long ago in this place
with admirable eloquence the effect produced by the law which gave
representative institutions to the rebellious mountaineers of Wales.
That law, he said, had been to an agitated nation what the twin stars
celebrated by Horace were to a stormy sea; the wind had fallen; the
clouds had dispersed; the threatening waves had sunk to rest. I have
mentioned the commotions of Madrid and Constantinople. Why is it that
the population of unrepresented London, though physically far more
powerful than the population of Madrid or of Constantinople, has been
far more peaceable? Why have we never seen the inhabitants of the
metropolis besiege St James's, or force their way riotously into this
House? Why, but because they have other means of giving vent to their
feelings, because they enjoy the liberty of unlicensed printing, and the
liberty of holding public meetings. Just as the people of unrepresented
London are more orderly than the people of Constantinople and Madrid, so
will the people of represented London be more orderly than the people of
unrepresented London.
Surely, Sir, nothing can be more absurd than to withhold legal power
from a portion of the community because that portion of the community
possesses natural power. Yet that is precisely what the noble Marquess
would have us do. In all ages a chief cause of the intestine disorders
of states has been that the natural distribution of power and the legal
distribution of power have not corresponded with each other. This is
no newly discovered truth. It was well known to Aristotle more than two
thousand years ago. It is illustrated by every part of ancient and of
modern history, and eminently by the history of England during the last
few months. Our country has been in serious danger; and why? Because
a representative system, framed to suit the England of the thirteenth
century, did not suit the England of the nineteenth century; because an
old wall, the last relique of a departed city, retained the privileges
of that city, while great towns, celebrated all over the world for
wealth and intelligence, had no more share in the government than when
they were still hamlets. The object of this bill is to correct those
monstrous disproportions, and to bring the legal order of society into
something like harmony with the natural order. What, then, can be more
inconsistent with the fundamental principle of the bill than to exclude
any district from a share in the representation, for no reason but
because that district is, and must always be, one of great importance?
This bill was meant to reconcile and unite. Will you frame it in such a
manner that it must inevitably produce irritation and discord? This bill
was meant to be final in the only rational sense of the word final. Will
you frame it in such a way that it must inevitably be shortlived? Is it
to be the first business of the first reformed House of Commons to pass
a new Reform Bill? Gentlemen opposite have often predicted that the
settlement which we are making will not be permanent; and they are now
taking the surest way to accomplish their own prediction. I agree with
them in disliking change merely as change. I would bear with many
things which are indefensible in theory, nay, with some things which are
grievous in practice, rather than venture on a change in the composition
of Parliament. But when such a change is necessary,--and that such a
change is now necessary is admitted by men of all parties,--then I hold
that it ought to be full and effectual. A great crisis may be followed
by the complete restoration of health. But no constitution will bear
perpetual tampering. If the noble Marquess's amendment should unhappily
be carried, it is morally certain that the immense population of
Finsbury, of Marylebone, of Lambeth, of the Tower Hamlets, will,
importunately and clamorously, demand redress from the reformed
Parliament. That Parliament, you tell us, will be much more
democratically inclined than the Parliaments of past times. If so, how
can you expect that it will resist the urgent demands of a million of
people close to its door? These eight seats will be given. More than
eight seats will be given. The whole question of Reform will be opened
again; and the blame will rest on those who will, by mutilating this
great law in an essential part, cause hundreds of thousands who now
regard it as a boon to regard it as an outrage.
Sir, our word is pledged. Let us remember the solemn promise which we
gave to the nation last October at a perilous conjuncture. That promise
was that we would stand firmly by the principles and leading provisions
of the Reform Bill. Our sincerity is now brought to the test. One of the
leading provisions of the bill is in danger. The question is, not merely
whether these districts shall be represented, but whether we will keep
the faith which we plighted to our countrymen. Let us be firm. Let us
make no concession to those who, having in vain tried to throw the bill
out, are now trying to fritter it away. An attempt has been made to
induce the Irish members to vote against the government. It has been
hinted that, perhaps, some of the seats taken from the metropolis may be
given to Ireland. Our Irish friends will, I doubt not, remember that
the very persons who offer this bribe exerted themselves not long ago
to raise a cry against the proposition to give additional members to
Belfast, Limerick, Waterford, and Galway. The truth is that our enemies
wish only to divide us, and care not by what means. One day they try
to excite jealousy among the English by asserting that the plan of the
government is too favourable to Ireland. Next day they try to bribe the
Irish to desert us, by promising to give something to Ireland at the
expense of England. Let us disappoint these cunning men. Let us, from
whatever part of the United Kingdom we come, be true to each other and
to the good cause. We have the confidence of our country. We have justly
earned it. For God's sake let us not throw it away. Other occasions may
arise on which honest Reformers may fairly take different sides. But
to-night he that is not with us is against us.
*****
REPEAL OF THE UNION WITH IRELAND. (FEBRUARY 6, 1833) A SPEECH DELIVERED
IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 6TH OF FEBRUARY 1833.
On the twenty-ninth of January 1833, the first Parliament elected under
the Reform Act of 1832 met at Westminster. On the fifth of February,
King William the Fourth made a speech from the throne, in which he
expressed his hope that the Houses would entrust him with such powers as
might be necessary for maintaining order in Ireland and for preserving
and strengthening the union between that country and Great Britain.
An Address, assuring His Majesty of the concurrence and support of the
Commons, was moved by Lord Ormelie and seconded by Mr John Marshall.
Mr O'Connell opposed the Address, and moved, as an amendment, that the
House should resolve itself into a Committee. After a discussion of
four nights the amendment was rejected by 428 votes to 40. On the second
night of the debate the following Speech was made.
Last night, Sir, I thought that it would not be necessary for me to take
any part in the present debate: but the appeal which has this evening
been made to me by my honourable friend the Member for Lincoln (Mr
Edward Lytton Bulwer. ) has forced me to rise. I will, however, postpone
the few words which I have to say in defence of my own consistency, till
I have expressed my opinion on the much more important subject which is
before the House.
My honourable friend tells us that we are now called upon to make a
choice between two modes of pacifying Ireland; that the government
recommends coercion; that the honourable and learned Member for Dublin
(Mr O'Connell. ) recommends redress; and that it is our duty to try the
effect of redress before we have recourse to coercion. The antithesis is
framed with all the ingenuity which is characteristic of my honourable
friend's style; but I cannot help thinking that, on this occasion,
his ingenuity has imposed on himself, and that he has not sufficiently
considered the meaning of the pointed phrase which he used with so much
effect. Redress is no doubt a very well sounding word. What can be more
reasonable than to ask for redress? What more unjust than to refuse
redress? But my honourable friend will perceive, on reflection, that,
though he and the honourable and learned Member for Dublin agree in
pronouncing the word redress, they agree in nothing else. They utter the
same sound; but they attach to it two diametrically opposite meanings.
The honourable and learned Member for Dublin means by redress simply
the Repeal of the Union. Now, to the Repeal of the Union my honourable
friend the Member for Lincoln is decidedly adverse. When we get at his
real meaning, we find that he is just as unwilling as we are to give the
redress which the honourable and learned Member for Dublin demands. Only
a small minority of the House will, I hope, and believe, vote with that
honourable and learned member; but the minority which thinks with him
will be very much smaller.
We have, indeed, been told by some gentlemen, who are not themselves
repealers, that the question of Repeal deserves a much more serious
consideration than it has yet received. Repeal, they say, is an object
on which millions have, however unwisely, set their hearts; and men
who speak in the name of millions are not to be coughed down or sneered
down. That which a suffering nation regards, rightly or wrongly, as the
sole cure for all its distempers, ought not to be treated with levity,
but to be the subject of full and solemn debate. All this, Sir, is most
true: but I am surprised that this lecture should have been read to
us who sit on your right. It would, I apprehend, have been with more
propriety addressed to a different quarter. Whose fault is it that we
have not yet had, and that there is no prospect of our having, this full
and solemn debate?
Is it the fault of His Majesty's Ministers? Have
not they framed the Speech which their Royal Master delivered from the
throne, in such a manner as to invite the grave and searching discussion
of the question of Repeal? and has not the invitation been declined? Is
it not fresh in our recollection that the honourable and learned Member
for Dublin spoke two hours, perhaps three hours,--nobody keeps accurate
account of time while he speaks,--but two or three hours without
venturing to join issue with us on this subject? In truth, he suffered
judgment to go against him by default. We, on this side of the House,
did our best to provoke him to the conflict. We called on him to
maintain here those doctrines which he had proclaimed elsewhere with so
much vehemence, and, I am sorry to be forced to add, with a scurrility
unworthy of his parts and eloquence. Never was a challenge more fairly
given: but it was not accepted. The great champion of Repeal would not
lift our glove. He shrank back; he skulked away; not, assuredly, from
distrust of his powers, which have never been more vigorously exerted
than in this debate, but evidently from distrust of his cause. I have
seldom heard so able a speech as his: I certainly never heard a speech
so evasive. From the beginning to the end he studiously avoided saying
a single word tending to raise a discussion about that Repeal which, in
other places, he constantly affirms to be the sole panacea for all the
evils by which his country is afflicted. Nor is this all. Yesterday
night he placed on our order-book not less than fourteen notices; and
of those notices not a single one had any reference to the Union between
Great Britain and Ireland. It is therefore evident to me, not only that
the honourable and learned gentleman is not now prepared to debate the
question in this House, but that he has no intention of debating it in
this House at all. He keeps it, and prudently keeps it, for audiences of
a very different kind. I am therefore, I repeat, surprised to hear
the Government accused of avoiding the discussion of this subject. Why
should we avoid a battle in which the bold and skilful captain of the
enemy evidently knows that we must be victorious?
One gentleman, though not a repealer, has begged us not to declare
ourselves decidedly adverse to repeal till we have studied the petitions
which are coming in from Ireland. Really, Sir, this is not a subject on
which any public man ought to be now making up his mind. My mind is made
up. My reasons are such as, I am certain, no petition from Ireland will
confute. Those reasons have long been ready to be produced; and, since
we are accused of flinching, I will at once produce them. I am prepared
to show that the Repeal of the Union would not remove the political and
social evils which afflict Ireland, nay, that it would aggravate almost
every one of those evils.
I understand, though I do not approve, the proceedings of poor Wolfe
Tone and his confederates. They wished to make a complete separation
between Great Britain and Ireland. They wished to establish a Hibernian
republic. Their plan was a very bad one; but, to do them justice, it
was perfectly consistent; and an ingenious man might defend it by some
plausible arguments. But that is not the plan of the honourable and
learned Member for Dublin. He assures us that he wishes the connection
between the islands to be perpetual. He is for a complete separation
between the two Parliaments; but he is for indissoluble union between
the two Crowns. Nor does the honourable and learned gentleman mean, by
an union between the Crowns, such an union as exists between the Crown
of this kingdom and the Crown of Hanover. For I need not say that,
though the same person is king of Great Britain and of Hanover, there
is no more political connection between Great Britain and Hanover than
between Great Britain and Hesse, or between Great Britain and Bavaria.
Hanover may be at peace with a state with which Great Britain is at war.
Nay, Hanover may, as a member of the Germanic body, send a contingent of
troops to cross bayonets with the King's English footguards. This is not
the relation in which the honourable and learned gentleman proposes that
Great Britain and Ireland should stand to each other. His plan is, that
each of the two countries shall have an independent legislature, but
that both shall have the same executive government. Now, is it possible
that a mind so acute and so well informed as his should not at
once perceive that this plan involves an absurdity, a downright
contradiction. Two independent legislatures! One executive government!
How can the thing be? No doubt, if the legislative power were quite
distinct from the executive power, England and Ireland might as easily
have two legislatures as two Chancellors and two Courts of King's Bench.
But though, in books written by theorists, the executive power and the
legislative power may be treated as things quite distinct, every man
acquainted with the real working of our constitution knows that the two
powers are most closely connected, nay, intermingled with each other.
During several generations, the whole administration of affairs has
been conducted in conformity with the sense of Parliament. About
every exercise of the prerogative of the Crown it is the privilege
of Parliament to offer advice; and that advice no wise king will
ever slight. It is the prerogative of the Sovereign to choose his own
servants; but it is impossible for him to maintain them in office unless
Parliament will support them. It is the prerogative of the Sovereign to
treat with other princes; but it is impossible for him to persist in any
scheme of foreign policy which is disagreeable to Parliament. It is
the prerogative of the Sovereign to make war; but he cannot raise a
battalion or man a frigate without the help of Parliament. The repealers
may therefore be refuted out of their own mouths. They say that
Great Britain and Ireland ought to have one executive power. But
the legislature has a most important share of the executive power.
Therefore, by the confession of the repealers themselves, Great Britain
and Ireland ought to have one legislature.
Consider for one moment in what a situation the executive government
will be placed if you have two independent legislatures, and if those
legislatures should differ, as all bodies which are independent of each
other will sometimes differ. Suppose the case of a commercial treaty
which is unpopular in England and popular in Ireland. The Irish
Parliament expresses its approbation of the terms, and passes a vote
of thanks to the negotiator. We at Westminster censure the terms and
impeach the negotiator. Or are we to have two foreign offices, one in
Downing Street and one in Dublin Castle? Is His Majesty to send to every
court in Christendom two diplomatic agents, to thwart each other, and
to be spies upon each other? It is inconceivable but that, in a very
few years, disputes such as can be terminated only by arms must arise
between communities so absurdly united and so absurdly disunited. All
history confirms this reasoning. Superficial observers have fancied that
they had found cases on the other side. But as soon as you examine those
cases you will see either that they bear no analogy to the case with
which we have to deal, or that they corroborate my argument. The case
of Ireland herself has been cited. Ireland, it has been said, had an
independent legislature from 1782 to 1800: during eighteen years there
were two coequal parliaments under one Crown; and yet there was no
collision. Sir, the reason that there was not perpetual collision was,
as we all know, that the Irish parliament, though nominally independent,
was generally kept in real dependence by means of the foulest corruption
that ever existed in any assembly. But it is not true that there was no
collision. Before the Irish legislature had been six years independent,
a collision did take place, a collision such as might well have produced
a civil war. In the year 1788, George the Third was incapacitated
by illness from discharging his regal functions. According to the
constitution, the duty of making provision for the discharge of those
functions devolved on the parliaments of Great Britain and Ireland.
Between the government of Great Britain and the government of Ireland
there was, during the interregnum, no connection whatever. The sovereign
who was the common head of both governments had virtually ceased to
exist: and the two legislatures were no more to each other than
this House and the Chamber of Deputies at Paris. What followed? The
Parliament of Great Britain resolved to offer the Regency to the Prince
of Wales under many important restrictions. The Parliament of Ireland
made him an offer of the Regency without any restrictions whatever. By
the same right by which the Irish Lords and Commons made that offer,
they might, if Mr Pitt's doctrine be the constitutional doctrine, as
I believe it to be, have made the Duke of York or the Duke of Leinster
Regent. To this Regent they might have given all the prerogatives of the
King. Suppose,--no extravagant supposition,--that George the Third
had not recovered, that the rest of his long life had been passed
in seclusion, Great Britain and Ireland would then have been, during
thirty-two years, as completely separated as Great Britain and Spain.
There would have been nothing in common between the governments, neither
executive power nor legislative power. It is plain, therefore, that a
total separation between the two islands might, in the natural course of
things, and without the smallest violation of the constitution on either
side, be the effect of the arrangement recommended by the honourable and
learned gentleman, who solemnly declares that he should consider such a
separation as the greatest of calamities.
No doubt, Sir, in several continental kingdoms there have been two
legislatures, and indeed more than two legislatures, under the same
Crown. But the explanation is simple. Those legislatures were of no real
weight in the government. Under Louis the Fourteenth Brittany had its
States; Burgundy had its States; and yet there was no collision between
the States of Brittany and the States of Burgundy. But why? Because
neither the States of Brittany nor the States of Burgundy imposed
any real restraint on the arbitrary power of the monarch. So, in
the dominions of the House of Hapsburg, there is the semblance of a
legislature in Hungary and the semblance of a legislature in the Tyrol:
but all the real power is with the Emperor. I do not say that you cannot
have one executive power and two mock parliaments, two parliaments which
merely transact parish business, two parliaments which exercise no more
influence on great affairs of state than the vestry of St Pancras or the
vestry of Marylebone. What I do say, and what common sense teaches, and
what all history teaches, is this, that you cannot have one executive
power and two real parliaments, two parliaments possessing such
powers as the parliament of this country has possessed ever since
the Revolution, two parliaments to the deliberate sense of which the
Sovereign must conform. If they differ, how can he conform to the sense
of both? The thing is as plain as a proposition in Euclid.
It is impossible for me to believe that considerations so obvious and so
important should not have occurred to the honourable and learned Member
for Dublin. Doubtless they have occurred to him; and therefore it
is that he shrinks from arguing the question here. Nay, even when he
harangues more credulous assemblies on the subject, he carefully avoids
precise explanations; and the hints which sometimes escape him are
not easily to be reconciled with each other. On one occasion, if
the newspapers are to be trusted, he declared that his object was to
establish a federal union between Great Britain and Ireland. A local
parliament, it seems, is to sit at Dublin, and to send deputies to an
imperial parliament which is to sit at Westminster. The honourable and
learned gentleman thinks, I suppose, that in this way he evades the
difficulties which I have pointed out. But he deceives himself.
If, indeed, his local legislature is to be subject to his imperial
legislature, if his local legislature is to be merely what the Assembly
of Antigua or Barbadoes is, or what the Irish Parliament was before
1782, the danger of collision is no doubt removed: but what, on the
honourable and learned gentleman's own principles, would Ireland gain by
such an arrangement? If, on the other hand, his local legislature is
to be for certain purposes independent, you have again the risk of
collision. Suppose that a difference of opinion should arise between the
Imperial Parliament and the Irish Parliament as to the limits of their
powers, who is to decide between them? A dispute between the House of
Commons and the House of Lords is bad enough. Yet in that case, the
Sovereign can, by a high exercise of his prerogative, produce harmony.
He can send us back to our constituents; and, if that expedient fails,
he can create more lords. When, in 1705, the dispute between the
Houses about the Aylesbury men ran high, Queen Anne restored concord by
dismissing the Parliament. Seven years later she put an end to another
conflict between the Houses by making twelve peers in one day. But who
is to arbitrate between two representative bodies chosen by different
constituent bodies? Look at what is now passing in America. Of all
federal constitutions that of the United States is the best. It was
framed by a convention which contained many wise and experienced men,
and over which Washington presided. Yet there is a debateable ground on
the frontier which separates the functions of Congress from those of
the state legislatures. A dispute as to the exact boundary has lately
arisen. Neither party seems disposed to yield: and, if both persist,
there can be no umpire but the sword.
For my part, Sir, I have no hesitation in saying that I should very
greatly prefer the total separation which the honourable and learned
gentleman professes to consider as a calamity, to the partial separation
which he has taught his countrymen to regard as a blessing. If, on a
fair trial, it be found that Great Britain and Ireland cannot exist
happily together as parts of one empire, in God's name let them
separate. I wish to see them joined as the limbs of a well formed body
are joined. In such a body the members assist each other: they are
nourished by the same food: if one member suffer, all suffer with it:
if one member rejoice, all rejoice with it. But I do not wish to see the
countries united, like those wretched twins from Siam who were exhibited
here a little while ago, by an unnatural ligament which made each the
constant plague of the other, always in each other's way, more helpless
than others because they had twice as many hands, slower than others
because they had twice as many legs, sympathising with each other only
in evil, not feeling each other's pleasures, not supported by each
other's aliments, but tormented by each other's infirmities, and certain
to perish miserably by each other's dissolution.
Ireland has undoubtedly just causes of complaint. We heard those causes
recapitulated last night by the honourable and learned Member, who tells
us that he represents not Dublin alone, but Ireland, and that he stands
between his country and civil war. I do not deny that most of the
grievances which he recounted exist, that they are serious, and that
they ought to be remedied as far as it is in the power of legislation to
remedy them. What I do deny is that they were caused by the Union, and
that the Repeal of the Union would remove them. I listened attentively
while the honourable and learned gentleman went through that long and
melancholy list: and I am confident that he did not mention a single
evil which was not a subject of bitter complaint while Ireland had a
domestic parliament. Is it fair, is it reasonable in the honourable
gentleman to impute to the Union evils which, as he knows better than
any other man in this house, existed long before the Union? Post hoc:
ergo, propter hoc is not always sound reasoning. But ante hoc: ergo,
non propter hoc is unanswerable. The old rustic who told Sir Thomas
More that Tenterden steeple was the cause of Godwin sands reasoned much
better than the honourable and learned gentleman. For it was not till
after Tenterden steeple was built that the frightful wrecks on the
Godwin sands were heard of. But the honourable and learned gentleman
would make Godwin sands the cause of Tenterden steeple. Some of the
Irish grievances which he ascribes to the Union are not only older than
the Union, but are not peculiarly Irish. They are common to England,
Scotland, and Ireland; and it was in order to get rid of them that we,
for the common benefit of England, Scotland, and Ireland, passed the
Reform Bill last year. Other grievances which the honourable and learned
gentleman mentioned are doubtless local; but is there to be a local
legislature wherever there is a local grievance? Wales has had local
grievances. We all remember the complaints which were made a few years
ago about the Welsh judicial system; but did anybody therefore propose
that Wales should have a distinct parliament? Cornwall has some local
grievances; but does anybody propose that Cornwall shall have its own
House of Lords and its own House of Commons? Leeds has local grievances.
The majority of my constituents distrust and dislike the municipal
government to which they are subject; they therefore call loudly on
us for corporation reform: but they do not ask us for a separate
legislature. Of this I am quite sure, that every argument which has been
urged for the purpose of showing that Great Britain and Ireland ought
to have two distinct parliaments may be urged with far greater force
for the purpose of showing that the north of Ireland and the south of
Ireland ought to have two distinct parliaments. The House of Commons of
the United Kingdom, it has been said, is chiefly elected by Protestants,
and therefore cannot be trusted to legislate for Catholic Ireland.
If this be so, how can an Irish House of Commons, chiefly elected
by Catholics, be trusted to legislate for Protestant Ulster? It is
perfectly notorious that theological antipathies are stronger in Ireland
than here. I appeal to the honourable and learned gentleman himself. He
has often declared that it is impossible for a Roman Catholic, whether
prosecutor or culprit, to obtain justice from a jury of Orangemen. It
is indeed certain that, in blood, religion, language, habits, character,
the population of some of the northern counties of Ireland has much
more in common with the population of England and Scotland than with the
population of Munster and Connaught. I defy the honourable and learned
Member, therefore, to find a reason for having a parliament at Dublin
which will not be just as good a reason for having another parliament at
Londonderry.
Sir, in showing, as I think I have shown, the absurdity of this cry for
Repeal, I have in a great measure vindicated myself from the charge of
inconsistency which has been brought against me by my honourable friend
the Member for Lincoln. It is very easy to bring a volume of Hansard to
the House, to read a few sentences of a speech made in very different
circumstances, and to say, "Last year you were for pacifying England by
concession: this year you are for pacifying Ireland by coercion. How can
you vindicate your consistency? " Surely my honourable friend cannot
but know that nothing is easier than to write a theme for severity, for
clemency, for order, for liberty, for a contemplative life, for a active
life, and so on. It was a common exercise in the ancient schools of
rhetoric to take an abstract question, and to harangue first on one side
and then on the other. The question, Ought popular discontents to be
quieted by concession or coercion? would have been a very good subject
for oratory of this kind. There is no lack of commonplaces on either
side. But when we come to the real business of life, the value of these
commonplaces depends entirely on the particular circumstances of the
case which we are discussing. Nothing is easier than to write a treatise
proving that it is lawful to resist extreme tyranny. Nothing is easier
than to write a treatise setting forth the wickedness of wantonly
bringing on a great society the miseries inseparable from revolution,
the bloodshed, the spoliation, the anarchy. Both treatises may contain
much that is true; but neither will enable us to decide whether a
particular insurrection is or is not justifiable without a close
examination of the facts. There is surely no inconsistency in speaking
with respect of the memory of Lord Russell and with horror of the crime
of Thistlewood; and, in my opinion, the conduct of Russell and the
conduct of Thistlewood did not differ more widely than the cry for
Parliamentary Reform and the cry for the Repeal of the Union. The Reform
Bill I believe to be a blessing to the nation. Repeal I know to be a
mere delusion. I know it to be impracticable: and I know that, if it
were practicable, it would be pernicious to every part of the empire,
and utterly ruinous to Ireland. Is it not then absurd to say that,
because I wished last year to quiet the English people by giving them
that which was beneficial to them, I am therefore bound in consistency
to quiet the Irish people this year by giving them that which will
be fatal to them? I utterly deny, too, that, in consenting to arm the
government with extraordinary powers for the purpose of repressing
disturbances in Ireland, I am guilty of the smallest inconsistency. On
what occasion did I ever refuse to support any government in repressing
disturbances? It is perfectly true that, in the debates on the Reform
Bill, I imputed the tumults and outrages of 1830 to misrule. But did I
ever say that those tumults and outrages ought to be tolerated? I did
attribute the Kentish riots, the Hampshire riots, the burning of corn
stacks, the destruction of threshing machines, to the obstinacy with
which the Ministers of the Crown had refused to listen to the demands
of the people. But did I ever say that the rioters ought not to be
imprisoned, that the incendiaries ought not to be hanged? I did ascribe
the disorders of Nottingham and the fearful sacking of Bristol to the
unwise rejection of the Reform Bill by the Lords. But did I ever say
that such excesses as were committed at Nottingham and Bristol ought not
to be put down, if necessary, by the sword?
I would act towards Ireland on the same principles on which I acted
towards England. In Ireland, as in England, I would remove every just
cause of complaint; and in Ireland, as in England, I would support the
Government in preserving the public peace. What is there inconsistent
in this? My honourable friend seems to think that no person who believes
that disturbances have been caused by maladministration can consistently
lend his help to put down those disturbances. If that be so, the
honourable and learned Member for Dublin is quite as inconsistent as
I am; indeed, much more so; for he thinks very much worse of the
Government than I do; and yet he declares himself willing to assist
the Government in quelling the tumults which, as he assures us, its own
misconduct is likely to produce. He told us yesterday that our harsh
policy might perhaps goad the unthinking populace of Ireland into
insurrection; and he added that, if there should be insurrection, he
should, while execrating us as the authors of all the mischief, be found
in our ranks, and should be ready to support us in everything that
might be necessary for the restoration of order. As to this part of the
subject, there is no difference in principle between the honourable and
learned gentleman and myself. In his opinion, it is probable that a time
may soon come when vigorous coercion may be necessary, and when it may
be the duty of every friend of Ireland to co-operate in the work of
coercion. In my opinion, that time has already come. The grievances of
Ireland are doubtless great, so great that I never would have connected
myself with a Government which I did not believe to be intent on
redressing those grievances. But am I, because the grievances of Ireland
are great, and ought to be redressed, to abstain from redressing the
worst grievance of all? Am I to look on quietly while the laws are
insulted by a furious rabble, while houses are plundered and burned,
while my peaceable fellow-subjects are butchered? The distribution of
Church property, you tell us, is unjust. Perhaps I agree with you.
But what then? To what purpose is it to talk about the distribution of
Church property, while no property is secure? Then you try to deter us
from putting down robbery, arson, and murder, by telling us that if we
resort to coercion we shall raise a civil war. We are past that fear.
Recollect that, in one county alone, there have been within a few
weeks sixty murders or assaults with intent to murder and six hundred
burglaries. Since we parted last summer the slaughter in Ireland has
exceeded the slaughter of a pitched battle: the destruction of property
has been as great as would have been caused by the storming of three or
four towns. Civil war, indeed! I would rather live in the midst of any
civil war that we have had in England during the last two hundred
years than in some parts of Ireland at the present moment. Rather, much
rather, would I have lived on the line of march of the Pretender's army
in 1745 than in Tipperary now. It is idle to threaten us with civil war;
for we have it already; and it is because we are resolved to put an
end to it that we are called base, and brutal, and bloody. Such are the
epithets which the honourable and learned Member for Dublin thinks
it becoming to pour forth against the party to which he owes every
political privilege that he enjoys. He need not fear that any member
of that party will be provoked into a conflict of scurrility. Use
makes even sensitive minds callous to invective: and, copious as his
vocabulary is, he will not easily find in it any foul name which has not
been many times applied to those who sit around me, on account of the
zeal and steadiness with which they supported the emancipation of
the Roman Catholics. His reproaches are not more stinging than the
reproaches which, in times not very remote, we endured unflinchingly in
his cause. I can assure him that men who faced the cry of No Popery are
not likely to be scared by the cry of Repeal. The time will come when
history will do justice to the Whigs of England, and will faithfully
relate how much they did and suffered for Ireland; how, for the sake of
Ireland, they quitted office in 1807; how, for the sake of Ireland, they
remained out of office more than twenty years, braving the frowns of
the Court, braving the hisses of the multitude, renouncing power,
and patronage, and salaries, and peerages, and garters, and yet not
obtaining in return even a little fleeting popularity. I see on the
benches near me men who might, by uttering one word against Catholic
Emancipation, nay, by merely abstaining from uttering a word in favour
of Catholic Emancipation, have been returned to this House without
difficulty or expense, and who, rather than wrong their Irish
fellow-subjects, were content to relinquish all the objects of their
honourable ambition, and to retire into private life with conscience
and fame untarnished. As to one eminent person, who seems to be regarded
with especial malevolence by those who ought never to mention his name
without reverence and gratitude, I will say only this: that the loudest
clamour which the honourable and learned gentleman can excite against
Lord Grey will be trifling when compared with the clamour which Lord
Grey withstood in order to place the honourable and learned gentleman
where he now sits.
