No More Learning

It was because they clung too long to odious
exemptions and distinctions, that they were at last unable to serve
their lands, their mansions, their heads. They would not endure Turgot:
and they had to endure Robespierre.

I am far indeed from wishing that the Members of this House should be
influenced by fear in the bad and unworthy sense of that word. But
there is an honest and honourable fear, which well becomes those who are
intrusted with the dearest interests of a great community; and to that
fear I am not ashamed to make an earnest appeal. It is very well to talk
of confronting sedition boldly, and of enforcing the law against those
who would disturb the public peace. No doubt a tumult caused by local
and temporary irritation ought to be suppressed with promptitude and
vigour. Such disturbances, for example, as those which Lord George
Gordon raised in 1780, should be instantly put down with the strong
hand. But woe to the Government which cannot distinguish between a
nation and a mob! Woe to the Government which thinks that a great, a
steady, a long continued movement of the public mind is to be stopped
like a street riot! This error has been twice fatal to the great House
of Bourbon. God be praised, our rulers have been wiser. The golden
opportunity which, if once suffered to escape, might never have been
retrieved, has been seized. Nothing, I firmly believe, can now prevent
the passing of this noble law, this second Bill of Rights. ["Murmurs. "]
Yes, I call it, and the nation calls it, and our posterity will long
call it, this second Bill of Rights, this Greater Charter of the
Liberties of England. The year 1831 will, I trust, exhibit the first
example of the manner in which it behoves a free and enlightened people
to purify their polity from old and deeply seated abuses, without
bloodshed, without violence, without rapine, all points freely debated,
all the forms of senatorial deliberation punctiliously observed,
industry and trade not for a moment interrupted, the authority of law
not for a moment suspended. These are things of which we may well be
proud. These are things which swell the heart up with a good hope for
the destinies of mankind. I cannot but anticipate a long series of
happy years; of years during which a parental Government will be firmly
supported by a grateful nation: of years during which war, if war should
be inevitable, will find us an united people; of years pre-eminently
distinguished by the progress of arts, by the improvement of laws,
by the augmentation of the public resources, by the diminution of the
public burdens, by all those victories of peace, in which, far more than
in any military successes, consists the true felicity of states, and the
true glory of statesmen. With such hopes, Sir, and such feelings, I give
my cordial assent to the second reading of a bill which I consider as
in itself deserving of the warmest approbation, and as indispensably
necessary, in the present temper of the public mind, to the repose of
the country and to the stability of the throne.

*****



PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (SEPTEMBER 20, 1831) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE
HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 20TH OF SEPTEMBER 1831.

On Monday, the nineteenth of September, 1831, the Bill to amend the
representation of the people in England and Wales was read a third time,
at an early hour and in a thin house, without any debate. But on the
question whether the Bill should pass a discussion arose which lasted
three nights. On the morning of the twenty-second of September the House
divided; and the Bill passed by 345 votes to 236. The following Speech
was made on the second night of the debate.

It is not without great diffidence, Sir, that I rise to address you on a
subject which has been nearly exhausted. Indeed, I should not have risen
had I not thought that, though the arguments on this question are for
the most part old, our situation at present is in a great measure new.
At length the Reform Bill, having passed without vital injury
through all the dangers which threatened it, during a long and minute
discussion, from the attacks of its enemies and from the dissensions
of its friends, comes before us for our final ratification, altered,
indeed, in some of its details for the better, and in some for the
worse, but in its great principles still the same bill which, on the
first of March, was proposed to the late Parliament, the same bill which
was received with joy and gratitude by the whole nation, the same bill
which, in an instant, took away the power of interested agitators, and
united in one firm body all the sects of sincere Reformers, the same
bill which, at the late election, received the approbation of almost
every great constituent body in the empire. With a confidence which
discussion has only strengthened, with an assured hope of great public
blessings if the wish of the nation shall be gratified, with a deep and
solemn apprehension of great public calamities if that wish shall be
disappointed, I, for the last time, give my most hearty assent to this
noble law, destined, I trust, to be the parent of many good laws, and,
through a long series of years, to secure the repose and promote the
prosperity of my country.

When I say that I expect this bill to promote the prosperity of the
country, I by no means intend to encourage those chimerical hopes which
the honourable and learned Member for Rye (Mr Pemberton. ), who has so
much distinguished himself in this debate, has imputed to the Reformers.
The people, he says, are for the bill, because they expect that it will
immediately relieve all their distresses. Sir, I believe that very few
of that large and respectable class which we are now about to admit to
a share of political power entertain any such absurd expectation. They
expect relief, I doubt not; and I doubt not that they will find it:
but sudden relief they are far too wise to expect. The bill, says the
honourable and learned gentleman, is good for nothing: it is merely
theoretical: it removes no real and sensible evil: it will not give the
people more work, or higher wages, or cheaper bread. Undoubtedly, Sir,
the bill will not immediately give all those things to the people.
But will any institutions give them all those things? Do the present
institutions of the country secure to them those advantages? If we are
to pronounce the Reform Bill good for nothing, because it will not at
once raise the nation from distress to prosperity, what are we to say
of that system under which the nation has been of late sinking from
prosperity into distress? The defect is not in the Reform Bill, but in
the very nature of government. On the physical condition of the great
body of the people, government acts not as a specific, but as an
alternative. Its operation is powerful, indeed, and certain, but gradual
and indirect. The business of government is not directly to make the
people rich; and a government which attempts more than this is precisely
the government which is likely to perform less. Governments do not and
cannot support the people. We have no miraculous powers: we have not the
rod of the Hebrew lawgiver: we cannot rain down bread on the multitude
from Heaven: we cannot smite the rock and give them to drink. We can
give them only freedom to employ their industry to the best advantage,
and security in the enjoyment of what their industry has acquired. These
advantages it is our duty to give at the smallest possible cost. The
diligence and forethought of individuals will thus have fair play; and
it is only by the diligence and forethought of individuals that the
community can become prosperous. I am not aware that His Majesty's
Ministers, or any of the supporters of this bill, have encouraged the
people to hope, that Reform will remove distress, in any other way than
by this indirect process. By this indirect process the bill will, I
feel assured, conduce to the national prosperity. If it had been
passed fifteen years ago, it would have saved us from our present
embarrassments. If we pass it now, it will gradually extricate us from
them. It will secure to us a House of Commons, which, by preserving
peace, by destroying monopolies, by taking away unnecessary public
burthens, by judiciously distributing necessary public burthens, will,
in the progress of time, greatly improve our condition. This it will do;
and those who blame it for not doing more blame it for not doing what
no Constitution, no code of laws, ever did or ever will do; what
no legislator, who was not an ignorant and unprincipled quack, ever
ventured to promise.

But chimerical as are the hopes which the honourable and learned Member
for Rye imputes to the people, they are not, I think, more chimerical
than the fears which he has himself avowed. Indeed, those very gentlemen
who are constantly telling us that we are taking a leap in the dark,
that we pay no attention to the lessons of experience, that we are mere
theorists, are themselves the despisers of experience, are themselves
the mere theorists. They are terrified at the thought of admitting into
Parliament members elected by ten pound householders. They have formed
in their own imaginations a most frightful idea of these members. My
honourable and learned friend, the Member for Cockermouth (Sir James
Scarlett. ), is certain that these members will take every opportunity of
promoting the interests of the journeyman in opposition to those of the
capitalist. The honourable and learned Member for Rye is convinced
that none but persons who have strong local connections, will ever be
returned for such constituent bodies. My honourable friend, the Member
for Thetford (Mr Alexander Baring. ), tells us, that none but mob
orators, men who are willing to pay the basest court to the multitude,
will have any chance. Other speakers have gone still further, and
have described to us the future borough members as so many Marats and
Santerres, low, fierce, desperate men, who will turn the House into a
bear-garden, and who will try to turn the monarchy into a republic, mere
agitators, without honour, without sense, without education, without the
feelings or the manners of gentlemen. Whenever, during the course of the
fatiguing discussions by which we have been so long occupied, there has
been a cry of "question," or a noise at the bar, the orator who has been
interrupted has remarked, that such proceedings will be quite in place
in the Reformed Parliament, but that we ought to remember that the House
of Commons is still an assembly of gentlemen. This, I say, is to set up
mere theory, or rather mere prejudice, in opposition to long and ample
experience. Are the gentlemen who talk thus ignorant that we have
already the means of judging what kind of men the ten pound householders
will send up to parliament? Are they ignorant that there are even now
large towns with very popular franchises, with franchises even more
democratic than those which will be bestowed by the present bill?
Ought they not, on their own principles, to look at the results of
the experiments which have already been made, instead of predicting
frightful calamities at random? How do the facts which are before us
agree with their theories? Nottingham is a city with a franchise even
more democratic than that which this bill establishes. Does Nottingham
send hither mere vulgar demagogues? It returns two distinguished men,
one an advocate, the other a soldier, both unconnected with the town.
Every man paying scot and lot has a vote at Leicester. This is a lower
franchise than the ten pound franchise. Do we find that the Members
for Leicester are the mere tools of the journeymen? I was at Leicester
during the contest of 1826; and I recollect that the suffrages of the
scot and lot voters were pretty equally divided between two candidates,
neither of them connected with the place, neither of them a slave of the
mob, one a Tory Baronet from Derbyshire, the other a most respectable
and excellent friend of mine, connected with the manufacturing
interest, and also an inhabitant of Derbyshire. Look at Norwich. Look at
Northampton, with a franchise more democratic than even the scot and lot
franchise. Northampton formerly returned Mr Perceval, and now returns
gentlemen of high respectability, gentlemen who have a great stake in
the prosperity and tranquillity of the country. Look at the metropolitan
districts. This is an a fortiori case. Nay it is--the expression, I
fear, is awkward--an a fortiori case at two removes. The ten pound
householders of the metropolis are persons in a lower station of
life than the ten pound householders of other towns. The scot and lot
franchise in the metropolis is again lower than the ten pound franchise.
Yet have Westminster and Southwark been in the habit of sending us
members of whom we have had reason to be ashamed, of whom we have not
had reason to be proud? I do not say that the inhabitants of Westminster
and Southwark have always expressed their political sentiments with
proper moderation. That is not the question. The question is this: what
kind of men have they elected? The very principle of all Representative
government is, that men who do not judge well of public affairs may be
quite competent to choose others who will judge better. Whom, then, have
Westminster and Southwark sent us during the last fifty years, years
full of great events, years of intense popular excitement? Take any one
of those nomination boroughs, the patrons of which have conscientiously
endeavoured to send fit men into this House. Compare the Members for
that borough with the Members for Westminster and Southwark; and you
will have no doubt to which the preference is due. It is needless to
mention Mr Fox, Mr Sheridan, Mr Tierney, Sir Samuel Romilly. Yet I must
pause at the name of Sir Samuel Romilly. Was he a mob orator? Was he a
servile flatterer of the multitude? Sir, if he had any fault, if
there was any blemish on that most serene and spotless character, that
character which every public man, and especially every professional
man engaged in politics, ought to propose to himself as a model, it
was this, that he despised popularity too much and too visibly. The
honourable Member for Thetford told us that the honourable and learned
Member for Rye, with all his talents, would have no chance of a seat in
the Reformed Parliament, for want of the qualifications which succeed
on the hustings. Did Sir Samuel Romilly ever appear on the hustings of
Westminster? He never solicited one vote; he never showed himself to the
electors, till he had been returned at the head of the poll. Even
then, as I have heard from one of his nearest relatives, it was with
reluctance that he submitted to be chaired. He shrank from being made
a show. He loved the people, and he served them; but Coriolanus himself
was not less fit to canvass them. I will mention one other name, that
of a man of whom I have only a childish recollection, but who must have
been intimately known to many of those who hear me, Mr Henry Thornton.
He was a man eminently upright, honourable, and religious, a man of
strong understanding, a man of great political knowledge; but, in all
respects, the very reverse of a mob orator. He was a man who would not
have yielded to what he considered as unreasonable clamour, I will
not say to save his seat, but to save his life. Yet he continued to
represent Southwark, Parliament after Parliament, for many years. Such
has been the conduct of the scot and lot voters of the metropolis; and
there is clearly less reason to expect democratic violence from ten
pound householders than from scot and lot householders; and from ten
pound householders in the country towns than from ten pound householders
in London. Experience, I say, therefore, is on our side; and on the side
of our opponents nothing but mere conjecture and mere assertion.

Sir, when this bill was first brought forward, I supported it, not
only on the ground of its intrinsic merits, but, also, because I was
convinced that to reject it would be a course full of danger. I believe
that the danger of that course is in no respect diminished. I believe,
on the contrary, that it is increased. We are told that there is a
reaction. The warmth of the public feeling, it seems, has abated. In
this story both the sections of the party opposed to Reform are agreed;
those who hate Reform, because it will remove abuses, and those who hate
it, because it will vert anarchy; those who wish to see the electing
body controlled by ejectments, and those who wish to see it controlled
by riots. They must now, I think, be undeceived. They must have already
discovered that the surest way to prevent a reaction is to talk about
it, and that the enthusiasm of the people is at once rekindled by any
indiscreet mention of their seeming coolness. This, Sir, is not the
first reaction which the sagacity of the Opposition has discovered since
the Reform Bill was brought in. Every gentleman who sat in the late
Parliament, every gentleman who, during the sitting of the late
Parliament, paid attention to political speeches and publications, must
remember how, for some time before the debate on General Gascoyne's
motion, and during the debate on that motion, and down to the very day
of the dissolution, we were told that public feeling had cooled. The
right honourable Baronet, the member for Tamworth, told us so. All the
literary organs of the Opposition, from the Quarterly Review down to the
Morning Post, told us so. All the Members of the Opposition with whom
we conversed in private told us so. I have in my eye a noble friend of
mine, who assured me, on the very night which preceded the dissolution,
that the people had ceased to be zealous for the Ministerial plan, and
that we were more likely to lose than to gain by the elections. The
appeal was made to the people; and what was the result? What sign of a
reaction appeared among the Livery of London? What sign of a reaction
did the honourable Baronet who now represents Okehampton find among the
freeholders of Cornwall? (Sir Richard Vyvyan. ) How was it with the large
represented towns? Had Liverpool cooled? or Bristol? or Leicester? or
Coventry? or Nottingham? or Norwich? How was it with the great seats of
manufacturing industry, Yorkshire, and Lancashire, and Staffordshire,
and Warwickshire, and Cheshire? How was it with the agricultural
districts, Northumberland and Cumberland, Leicestershire and
Lincolnshire, Kent and Essex, Oxfordshire, Hampshire, Somersetshire,
Dorsetshire, Devonshire? How was it with the strongholds of
aristocratical influence, Newark, and Stamford, and Hertford, and St
Alban's? Never did any people display, within the limits prescribed by
law, so generous a fervour, or so steadfast a determination, as that
very people whose apparent languor had just before inspired the enemies
of Reform with a delusive hope.

Such was the end of the reaction of April; and, if that lesson shall not
profit those to whom it was given, such and yet more signal will be the
end of the reaction of September. The two cases are strictly analogous.
In both cases the people were eager when they believed the bill to be
in danger, and quiet when they believed it to be in security. During the
three or four weeks which followed the promulgation of the Ministerial
plan, all was joy, and gratitude, and vigorous exertion. Everywhere
meetings were held: everywhere resolutions were passed: from every
quarter were sent up petitions to this House, and addresses to the
Throne: and then the nation, having given vent to its first feelings of
delight, having clearly and strongly expressed its opinions, having seen
the principle of the bill adopted by the House of Commons on the second
reading, became composed, and awaited the result with a tranquillity
which the Opposition mistook for indifference. All at once the aspect of
affairs changed. General Gascoyne's amendment was carried: the bill was
again in danger: exertions were again necessary. Then was it well
seen whether the calmness of the public mind was any indication of
indifference. The depth and sincerity of the prevailing sentiments were
proved, not by mere talking, but by actions, by votes, by sacrifices.
Intimidation was defied: expenses were rejected: old ties were broken:
the people struggled manfully: they triumphed gloriously: they placed
the bill in perfect security, as far as this house was concerned; and
they returned to their repose. They are now, as they were on the eve of
General Gascoyne's motion, awaiting the issue of the deliberations of
Parliament, without any indecent show of violence, but with anxious
interest and immovable resolution. And because they are not exhibiting
that noisy and rapturous enthusiasm which is in its own nature
transient, because they are not as much excited as on the day when the
plan of the Government was first made known to them, or on the day when
the late Parliament was dissolved, because they do not go on week after
week, hallooing, and holding meetings, and marching about with flags,
and making bonfires, and illuminating their houses, we are again told
that there is a reaction. To such a degree can men be deceived by
their wishes, in spite of their own recent experience. Sir, there is no
reaction; and there will be no reaction. All that has been said on this
subject convinces me only that those who are now, for the second time,
raising this cry, know nothing of the crisis in which they are called on
to act, or of the nation which they aspire to govern. All their opinions
respecting this bill are founded on one great error. They imagine that
the public feeling concerning Reform is a mere whim which sprang up
suddenly out of nothing, and which will as suddenly vanish into nothing.
They, therefore, confidently expect a reaction. They are always looking
out for a reaction. Everything that they see, or that they hear, they
construe into a sign of the approach of this reaction. They resemble the
man in Horace, who lies on the bank of the river, expecting that it
will every moment pass by and leave him a clear passage, not knowing the
depth and abundance of the fountain which feeds it, not knowing that
it flows, and will flow on for ever. They have found out a hundred
ingenious devices by which they deceive themselves. Sometimes they tell
us that the public feeling about Reform was caused by the events which
took place at Paris about fourteen months ago; though every observant
and impartial man knows, that the excitement which the late French
revolution produced in England was not the cause but the effect of that
progress which liberal opinions had made amongst us. Sometimes they
tell us that we should not have been troubled with any complaints on the
subject of the Representation, if the House of Commons had agreed to a
certain motion, made in the session of 1830, for inquiry into the causes
of the public distress. I remember nothing about that motion, except
that it gave rise to the dullest debate ever known; and the country, I
am firmly convinced, cared not one straw about it. But is it not strange
that men of real ability can deceive themselves so grossly, as to think
that any change in the government of a foreign nation, or the rejection
of any single motion, however popular, could all at once raise up a
great, rich, enlightened nation, against its ancient institutions? Could
such small drops have produced an overflowing, if the vessel had not
already been filled to the very brim? These explanations are incredible,
and if they were credible, would be anything but consolatory. If it were
really true that the English people had taken a sudden aversion to a
representative system which they had always loved and admired, because a
single division in Parliament had gone against their wishes, or because,
in a foreign country, in circumstances bearing not the faintest analogy
to those in which we are placed, a change of dynasty had happened, what
hope could we have for such a nation of madmen? How could we expect
that the present form of government, or any form of government, would be
durable amongst them?

Sir, the public feeling concerning Reform is of no such recent origin,
and springs from no such frivolous causes. Its first faint commencement
may be traced far, very far, back in our history. During seventy years
that feeling has had a great influence on the public mind. Through the
first thirty years of the reign of George the Third, it was gradually
increasing. The great leaders of the two parties in the State were
favourable to Reform. Plans of reform were supported by large and most
respectable minorities in the House of Commons. The French Revolution,
filling the higher and middle classes with an extreme dread of change,
and the war calling away the public attention from internal to external
politics, threw the question back; but the people never lost sight
of it. Peace came, and they were at leisure to think of domestic
improvements. Distress came, and they suspected, as was natural, that
their distress was the effect of unfaithful stewardship and unskilful
legislation. An opinion favourable to Parliamentary Reform grew up
rapidly, and became strong among the middle classes. But one tie, one
strong tie, still bound those classes to the Tory party. I mean the
Catholic Question. It is impossible to deny that, on that subject, a
large proportion, a majority, I fear, of the middle class of Englishmen,
conscientiously held opinions opposed to those which I have always
entertained, and were disposed to sacrifice every other consideration to
what they regarded as a religious duty. Thus the Catholic Question hid,
so to speak, the question of Parliamentary Reform. The feeling in favour
of Parliamentary Reform grew, but it grew in the shade. Every man, I
think, must have observed the progress of that feeling in his own social
circle. But few Reform meetings were held, and few petitions in favour
of Reform presented. At length the Catholics were emancipated; the
solitary link of sympathy which attached the people to the Tories was
broken; the cry of "No Popery" could no longer be opposed to the cry
of "Reform. " That which, in the opinion of the two great parties in
Parliament, and of a vast portion of the community, had been the first
question, suddenly disappeared; and the question of Parliamentary Reform
took the first place. Then was put forth all the strength which had been
growing in silence and obscurity. Then it appeared that Reform had on
its side a coalition of interests and opinions unprecedented in our
history, all the liberality and intelligence which had supported the
Catholic claims, and all the clamour which had opposed them.

This, I believe, is the true history of that public feeling on the
subject of Reform which had been ascribed to causes quite inadequate to
the production of such an effect. If ever there was in the history of
mankind a national sentiment which was the very opposite of a caprice,
with which accident had nothing to do, which was produced by the slow,
steady, certain progress of the human mind, it is the sentiment of the
English people on the subject of Reform. Accidental circumstances
may have brought that feeling to maturity in a particular year, or a
particular month. That point I will not dispute; for it is not worth
disputing. But those accidental circumstances have brought on Reform,
only as the circumstance that, at a particular time, indulgences were
offered for sale in a particular town in Saxony, brought on the great
separation from the Church of Rome. In both cases the public mind was
prepared to move on the slightest impulse.

Thinking thus of the public opinion concerning Reform, being convinced
that this opinion is the mature product of time and of discussion, I
expect no reaction. I no more expect to see my countrymen again content
with the mere semblance of a Representation, than to see them again
drowning witches or burning heretics, trying causes by red hot
ploughshares, or offering up human sacrifices to wicker idols. I no more
expect a reaction in favour of Gatton and Old Sarum, than a reaction in
favour of Thor and Odin.
I should think such a reaction almost as much
a miracle as that the shadow should go back upon the dial. Revolutions
produced by violence are often followed by reactions; the victories of
reason once gained, are gained for eternity.

In fact, if there be, in the present aspect of public affairs, any sign
peculiarly full of evil omen to the opponents of Reform, it is that very
calmness of the public mind on which they found their expectation of
success. They think that it is the calmness of indifference. It is the
calmness of confident hope: and in proportion to the confidence of hope
will be the bitterness of disappointment. Disappointment, indeed, I
do not anticipate. That we are certain of success in this House is now
acknowledged; and our opponents have, in consequence, during the whole
of this Session, and particularly during the present debate, addressed
their arguments and exhortations rather to the Lords than to the
assembly of which they are themselves Members. Their principal argument
has always been, that the bill will destroy the peerage. The honourable
and learned Member for Rye has, in plain terms, called on the Barons of
England to save their order from democratic encroachments, by rejecting
this measure. All these arguments, all these appeals, being interpreted,
mean this: "Proclaim to your countrymen that you have no common
interests with them, no common sympathies with them; that you can be
powerful only by their weakness, and exalted only by their degradation;
that the corruption which disgusts them, and the oppression against
which their spirit rises up, are indispensable to your authority;
that the freedom and purity of election are incompatible with the very
existence of your House. Give them clearly to understand that your
power rests, not as they have hitherto imagined, on their rational
convictions, or on their habitual veneration, or on your own great
property, but on a system fertile of political evils, fertile also of
low iniquities of which ordinary justice take cognisance. Bind up, in
inseparable union, the privileges of your estate with the grievances
of ours: resolve to stand or fall with abuses visibly marked out for
destruction: tell the people that they are attacking you in attacking
the three holes in the wall, and that they shall never get rid of
the three holes in the wall, till they have got rid of you; that a
hereditary peerage and a representative assembly, can co-exist only in
name, and that, if they will have a real House of Peers, they must be
content with a mock House of Commons. " This, I say, is the advice given
to the Lords by those who call themselves the friends of aristocracy.
That advice so pernicious will not be followed, I am well assured; yet
I cannot but listen to it with uneasiness. I cannot but wonder that it
should proceed from the lips of men who are constantly lecturing us on
the duty of consulting history and experience. Have they never heard
what effects counsels like their own, when too faithfully followed, have
produced? Have they never visited that neighbouring country, which still
presents to the eye, even of a passing stranger, the signs of a great
dissolution and renovation of society? Have they never walked by those
stately mansions, now sinking into decay, and portioned out into lodging
rooms, which line the silent streets of the Faubourg St Germain? Have
they never seen the ruins of those castles whose terraces and gardens
overhang the Loire? Have they never heard that from those magnificent
hotels, from those ancient castles, an aristocracy as splendid, as
brave, as proud, as accomplished, as ever Europe saw, was driven forth
to exile and beggary, to implore the charity of hostile Governments and
hostile creeds, to cut wood in the back settlements of America, or to
teach French in the schoolrooms of London? And why were those haughty
nobles destroyed with that utter destruction? Why were they scattered
over the face of the earth, their titles abolished, their escutcheons
defaced, their parks wasted, their palaces dismantled, their heritage
given to strangers? Because they had no sympathy with the people,
no discernment of the signs of their time; because, in the pride and
narrowness of their hearts, they called those whose warnings might
have saved them theorists and speculators; because they refused all
concession till the time had arrived when no concession would avail. I
have no apprehension that such a fate awaits the nobles of England. I
draw no parallel between our aristocracy and that of France. Those who
represent the peerage as a class whose power is incompatible with the
just influence of the people in the State, draw that parallel, and not
I. They do all in their power to place the Lords and Commons of England
in that position with respect to each other in which the French gentry
stood with respect to the Third Estate. But I am convinced that these
advisers will not succeed. We see, with pride and delight, among the
friends of the people, the Talbots, the Cavendishes, the princely house
of Howard. Foremost among those who have entitled themselves, by their
exertions in this House, to the lasting gratitude of their countrymen,
we see the descendants of Marlborough, of Russell, and of Derby. I hope,
and firmly believe, that the Lords will see what their interests and
their honour require. I hope, and firmly believe, that they will act in
such a manner as to entitle themselves to the esteem and affection of
the people. But if not, let not the enemies of Reform imagine that their
reign is straightway to recommence, or that they have obtained anything
more than a short and uneasy respite. We are bound to respect the
constitutional rights of the Peers; but we are bound also not to forget
our own. We, too, have our privileges; we, too, are an estate of the
realm. A House of Commons strong in the love and confidence of the
people, a House of Commons which has nothing to fear from a dissolution,
is something in the government. Some persons, I well know, indulge a
hope that the rejection of the bill will at once restore the domination
of that party which fled from power last November, leaving everything
abroad and everything at home in confusion; leaving the European system,
which it had built up at a vast cost of blood and treasure, falling to
pieces in every direction; leaving the dynasties which it had restored,
hastening into exile; leaving the nations which it had joined together,
breaking away from each other; leaving the fundholders in dismay;
leaving the peasantry in insurrection; leaving the most fertile counties
lighted up with the fires of incendiaries; leaving the capital in such
a state, that a royal procession could not pass safely through it.
Dark and terrible, beyond any season within my remembrance of political
affairs, was the day of their flight. Far darker and far more terrible
will be the day of their return. They will return in opposition to
the whole British nation, united as it was never before united on any
internal question; united as firmly as when the Armada was sailing up
the Channel; united as firmly as when Bonaparte pitched his camp on the
cliffs of Boulogne. They will return pledged to defend evils which the
people are resolved to destroy. They will return to a situation in which
they can stand only by crushing and trampling down public opinion, and
from which, if they fall, they may, in their fall, drag down with them
the whole frame of society. Against such evils, should such evils appear
to threaten the country, it will be our privilege and our duty to warn
our gracious and beloved Sovereign. It will be our privilege and our
duty to convey the wishes of a loyal people to the throne of a patriot
king. At such a crisis the proper place for the House of Commons is
in front of the nation; and in that place this House will assuredly
be found. Whatever prejudice or weakness may do elsewhere to ruin the
empire, here, I trust, will not be wanting the wisdom, the virtue, and
the energy that may save it.

*****




PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. (OCTOBER 10, 1831) A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE
OF COMMONS ON THE 10TH OF OCTOBER, 1831.

On the morning of Saturday, the eighth of October, 1831, the House of
Lords, by a majority of 190 to 158, rejected the Reform Bill. On the
Monday following, Lord Ebrington, member for Devonshire, moved the
following resolution in the House of Commons:

"That while this House deeply laments the present fate of a bill for
amending the representation of the people in England and Wales,
in favour of which the opinion of the country stands unequivocally
pronounced, and which has been matured by discussions the most anxious
and laborious, it feels itself called upon to reassert its firm
adherence to the principle and leading provisions of that great measure,
and to express its unabated confidence in the integrity, perseverance,
and ability of those Ministers, who, in introducing and conducting it,
have so well consulted the best interests of the country. "

The resolution was carried by 329 votes to 198. The following speech was
made early in the debate.

I doubt, Sir, whether any person who had merely heard the speech of the
right honourable Member for the University of Cambridge (Mr Goulburn. )
would have been able to conjecture what the question is on which we are
discussing, and what the occasion on which we are assembled. For myself,
I can with perfect certainty declare that never in the whole course of
my life did I feel my mind oppressed by so deep and solemn a sense
of responsibility as at the present moment. I firmly believe that the
country is now in danger of calamities greater than ever threatened it,
from domestic misgovernment or from foreign hostility. The danger is no
less than this, that there may be a complete alienation of the people
from their rulers. To soothe the public mind, to reconcile the people to
the delay, the short delay, which must intervene before their wishes can
be legitimately gratified, and in the meantime to avert civil discord,
and to uphold the authority of law, these are, I conceive, the objects
of my noble friend, the Member for Devonshire: these ought, at the
present crisis, to be the objects of every honest Englishman. They
are objects which will assuredly be attained, if we rise to this great
occasion, if we take our stand in the place which the Constitution has
assigned to us, if we employ, with becoming firmness and dignity, the
powers which belong to us as trustees of the nation, and as advisers of
the Throne.

Sir, the Resolution of my noble friend consists of two parts. He calls
upon us to declare our undiminished attachment to the principles of
the Reform Bill, and also our undiminished confidence in His Majesty's
Ministers. I consider these two declarations as identical. The question
of Reform is, in my opinion, of such paramount importance, that,
approving the principles of the Ministerial Bill, I must think the
Ministers who have brought that bill forward, although I may differ
from them on some minor points, entitled to the strongest support
of Parliament. The right honourable gentleman, the Member for the
University of Cambridge, has attempted to divert the course of the
debate to questions comparatively unimportant. He has said much about
the coal duty, about the candle duty, about the budget of the present
Chancellor of the Exchequer. On most of the points to which he has
referred, it would be easy for me, were I so inclined, to defend the
Ministers; and where I could not defend them, I should find it easy to
recriminate on those who preceded them. The right honourable Member for
the University of Cambridge has taunted the Ministers with the defeat
which their plan respecting the timber trade sustained in the last
Parliament. I might, perhaps, at a more convenient season, be tempted
to inquire whether that defeat was more disgraceful to them or to their
predecessors. I might, perhaps, be tempted to ask the right honourable
gentleman whether, if he had not been treated, while in office, with
more fairness than he has shown while in opposition, it would have been
in his power to carry his best bill, the Beer Bill? He has accused
the Ministers of bringing forward financial propositions, and then
withdrawing those propositions. Did not he bring forward, during the
Session of 1830, a plan respecting the sugar duties? And was not that
plan withdrawn? But, Sir, this is mere trifling. I will not be seduced
from the matter in hand by the right honourable gentleman's example.
At the present moment I can see only one question in the State, the
question of Reform; only two parties, the friends of the Reform Bill and
its enemies.

It is not my intention, Sir, again to discuss the merits of the Reform
Bill. The principle of that bill received the approbation of the late
House of Commons after a discussion of ten nights; and the bill as it
now stands, after a long and most laborious investigation, passed the
present House of Commons by a majority which was nearly half as large
again as the minority. This was little more than a fortnight ago.
Nothing has since occurred to change our opinion. The justice of the
case is unaltered. The public enthusiasm is undiminished. Old Sarum has
grown no larger. Manchester has grown no smaller. In addressing this
House, therefore, I am entitled to assume that the bill is in itself a
good bill. If so, ought we to abandon it merely because the Lords have
rejected it? We ought to respect the lawful privileges of their
House; but we ought also to assert our own. We are constitutionally as
independent of their Lordships as their Lordships are of us. We have
precisely as good a right to adhere to our opinion as they have to
dissent from it. In speaking of their decision, I will attempt to follow
that example of moderation which was so judiciously set by my noble
friend, the Member for Devonshire. I will only say that I do not think
that they are more competent to form a correct judgment on a political
question than we are. It is certain that, on all the most important
points on which the two Houses have for a long time past differed,
the Lords have at length come over to the opinion of the Commons. I am
therefore entitled to say, that with respect to all those points, the
Peers themselves being judges, the House of Commons was in the right and
the House of Lords in the wrong. It was thus with respect to the Slave
trade: it was thus with respect to Catholic Emancipation: it was thus
with several other important questions. I, therefore, cannot think that
we ought, on the present occasion, to surrender our judgment to those
who have acknowledged that, on former occasions of the same kind, we
have judged more correctly than they.

Then again, Sir, I cannot forget how the majority and the minority in
this House were composed; I cannot forget that the majority contained
almost all those gentlemen who are returned by large bodies of electors.
It is, I believe, no exaggeration to say, that there were single Members
of the majority who had more constituents than the whole minority put
together. I speak advisedly and seriously. I believe that the number of
freeholders of Yorkshire exceeds that of all the electors who return the
Opposition. I cannot with propriety comment here on any reports which
may have been circulated concerning the majority and minority in the
House of Lords. I may, however, mention these notoriously historical
facts; that during the last forty years the powers of the executive
Government have been, almost without intermission, exercised by a party
opposed to Reform; and that a very great number of Peers have been
created, and all the present Bishops raised to the bench during those
years. On this question, therefore, while I feel more than usual respect
for the judgment of the House of Commons, I feel less than usual respect
for the judgment of the House of Lords. Our decision is the decision of
the nation; the decision of their Lordships can scarcely be considered
as the decision even of that class from which the Peers are
generally selected, and of which they may be considered as virtual
representatives, the great landed gentlemen of England. It seems to me
clear, therefore, that we ought, notwithstanding what has passed in the
other House, to adhere to our opinion concerning the Reform Bill.

The next question is this; ought we to make a formal declaration that we
adhere to our opinion? I think that we ought to make such a declaration;
and I am sure that we cannot make it in more temperate or more
constitutional terms than those which my noble friend asks us to adopt.
I support the Resolution which he has proposed with all my heart and
soul: I support it as a friend to Reform; but I support it still more
as a friend to law, to property, to social order. No observant and
unprejudiced man can look forward without great alarm to the effects
which the recent decision of the Lords may possibly produce. I do not
predict, I do not expect, open, armed insurrection. What I apprehend
is this, that the people may engage in a silent, but extensive and
persevering war against the law. What I apprehend is, that England may
exhibit the same spectacle which Ireland exhibited three years ago,
agitators stronger than the magistrate, associations stronger than the
law, a Government powerful enough to be hated, and not powerful enough
to be feared, a people bent on indemnifying themselves by illegal
excesses for the want of legal privileges. I fear, that we may before
long see the tribunals defied, the tax-gatherer resisted, public credit
shaken, property insecure, the whole frame of society hastening to
dissolution. It is easy to say, "Be bold: be firm: defy intimidation:
let the law have its course: the law is strong enough to put down the
seditious. " Sir, we have heard all this blustering before; and we know
in what it ended. It is the blustering of little men whose lot has
fallen on a great crisis. Xerxes scourging the winds, Canute commanding
the waves to recede from his footstool, were but types of the folly
of those who apply the maxims of the Quarter Sessions to the great
convulsions of society. The law has no eyes: the law has no hands:
the law is nothing, nothing but a piece of paper printed by the King's
printer, with the King's arms at the top, till public opinion breathes
the breath of life into the dead letter. We found this in Ireland. The
Catholic Association bearded the Government. The Government resolved
to put down the Association. An indictment was brought against my
honourable and learned friend, the Member for Kerry. The Grand Jury
threw it out. Parliament met. The Lords Commissioners came down with a
speech recommending the suppression of the self-constituted legislature
of Dublin. A bill was brought in: it passed both Houses by large
majorities: it received the Royal assent. And what effect did it
produce? Exactly as much as that old Act of Queen Elizabeth, still
unrepealed, by which it is provided that every man who, without a
special exemption, shall eat meat on Fridays and Saturdays, shall pay a
fine of twenty shillings or go to prison for a month. Not only was the
Association not destroyed: its power was not for one day suspended: it
flourished and waxed strong under the law which had been made for the
purpose of annihilating it. The elections of 1826, the Clare election
two years later, proved the folly of those who think that nations are
governed by wax and parchment: and, at length, in the close of 1828, the
Government had only one plain choice before it, concession or civil war.
Sir, I firmly believe that, if the people of England shall lose all hope
of carrying the Reform Bill by constitutional means, they will forthwith
begin to offer to the Government the same kind of resistance which
was offered to the late Government, three years ago, by the people of
Ireland, a resistance by no means amounting to rebellion, a resistance
rarely amounting to any crime defined by the law, but a resistance
nevertheless which is quite sufficient to obstruct the course of
justice, to disturb the pursuits of industry, and to prevent the
accumulation of wealth. And is not this a danger which we ought to fear?
And is not this a danger which we are bound, by all means in our power,
to avert? And who are those who taunt us for yielding to intimidation?
Who are those who affect to speak with contempt of associations, and
agitators, and public meetings? Even the very persons who, scarce two
years ago, gave up to associations, and agitators, and public meetings,
their boasted Protestant Constitution, proclaiming all the time that
they saw the evils of Catholic Emancipation as strongly as ever. Surely,
surely, the note of defiance which is now so loudly sounded in our ears,
proceeds with a peculiarly bad grace from men whose highest glory it
is that they abased themselves to the dust before a people whom their
policy had driven to madness, from men the proudest moment of whose
lives was that in which they appeared in the character of persecutors
scared into toleration. Do they mean to indemnify themselves for the
humiliation of quailing before the people of Ireland by trampling on the
people of England? If so, they deceive themselves. The case of Ireland,
though a strong one, was by no means so strong a case as that with which
we have now to deal. The Government, in its struggle with the Catholics
of Ireland, had Great Britain at its back. Whom will it have at its back
in the struggle with the Reformers of Great Britain? I know only two
ways in which societies can permanently be governed, by public opinion,
and by the sword. A Government having at its command the armies, the
fleets, and the revenues of Great Britain, might possibly hold Ireland
by the sword. So Oliver Cromwell held Ireland; so William the Third held
it; so Mr Pitt held it; so the Duke of Wellington might perhaps have
held it. But to govern Great Britain by the sword! So wild a thought has
never, I will venture to say, occurred to any public man of any party;
and, if any man were frantic enough to make the attempt, he would find,
before three days had expired, that there is no better sword than that
which is fashioned out of a ploughshare. But, if not by the sword, how
is the country to be governed? I understand how the peace is kept at New
York. It is by the assent and support of the people. I understand also
how the peace is kept at Milan. It is by the bayonets of the Austrian
soldiers. But how the peace is to be kept when you have neither the
popular assent nor the military force, how the peace is to be kept
in England by a Government acting on the principles of the present
Opposition, I do not understand.

There is in truth a great anomaly in the relation between the English
people and their Government. Our institutions are either too popular or
not popular enough. The people have not sufficient power in making the
laws; but they have quite sufficient power to impede the execution of
the laws when made. The Legislature is almost entirely aristocratical;
the machinery by which the degrees of the Legislature are carried into
effect is almost entirely popular; and, therefore, we constantly see
all the power which ought to execute the law, employed to counteract the
law. Thus, for example, with a criminal code which carries its rigour
to the length of atrocity, we have a criminal judicature which often
carries its lenity to the length of perjury. Our law of libel is the
most absurdly severe that ever existed, so absurdly severe that, if it
were carried into full effect, it would be much more oppressive than
a censorship. And yet, with this severe law of libel, we have a
press which practically is as free as the air. In 1819 the Ministers
complained of the alarming increase of seditious and blasphemous
publications. They proposed a bill of great rigour to stop the growth
of the evil; and they carried their bill. It was enacted, that the
publisher of a seditious libel might, on a second conviction, be
banished, and that if he should return from banishment, he might be
transported. How often was this law put in force? Not once. Last year we
repealed it: but it was already dead, or rather it was dead born. It
was obsolete before Le Roi le veut had been pronounced over it. For any
effect which it produced it might as well have been in the Code Napoleon
as in the English Statute Book. And why did the Government, having
solicited and procured so sharp and weighty a weapon, straightway hang
it up to rust? Was there less sedition, were there fewer libels, after
the passing of the Act than before it? Sir, the very next year was the
year 1820, the year of the Bill of Pains and Penalties against Queen
Caroline, the very year when the public mind was most excited, the very
year when the public press was most scurrilous. Why then did not the
Ministers use their new law? Because they durst not: because they could
not. They had obtained it with ease; for in obtaining it they had to
deal with a subservient Parliament. They could not execute it: for in
executing it they would have to deal with a refractory people. These
are instances of the difficulty of carrying the law into effect when the
people are inclined to thwart their rulers. The great anomaly, or, to
speak more properly, the great evil which I have described, would,
I believe, be removed by the Reform Bill. That bill would establish
harmony between the people and the Legislature. It would give a fair
share in the making of laws to those without whose co-operation laws are
mere waste paper. Under a reformed system we should not see, as we now
often see, the nation repealing Acts of Parliament as fast as we and
the Lords can pass them. As I believe that the Reform Bill would produce
this blessed and salutary concord, so I fear that the rejection of
the Reform Bill, if that rejection should be considered as final, will
aggravate the evil which I have been describing to an unprecedented,
to a terrible extent. To all the laws which might be passed for the
collection of the revenue, or for the prevention of sedition, the people
would oppose the same kind of resistance by means of which they have
succeeded in mitigating, I might say in abrogating, the law of libel.
There would be so many offenders that the Government would scarcely know
at whom to aim its blow. Every offender would have so many accomplices
and protectors that the blow would almost always miss the aim. The Veto
of the people, a Veto not pronounced in set form like that of the Roman
Tribunes, but quite as effectual as that of the Roman Tribunes for the
purpose of impeding public measures, would meet the Government at every
turn. The administration would be unable to preserve order at home, or
to uphold the national honour abroad; and, at length, men who are now
moderate, who now think of revolution with horror, would begin to wish
that the lingering agony of the State might be terminated by one fierce,
sharp, decisive crisis.

Is there a way of escape from these calamities? I believe that there
is. I believe that, if we do our duty, if we give the people reason to
believe that the accomplishment of their wishes is only deferred, if
we declare our undiminished attachment to the Reform Bill, and our
resolution to support no Minister who will not support that bill, we
shall avert the fearful disasters which impend over the country. There
is danger that, at this conjuncture, men of more zeal than wisdom may
obtain a fatal influence over the public mind. With these men will be
joined others, who have neither zeal nor wisdom, common barrators in
politics, dregs of society which, in times of violent agitation, are
tossed up from the bottom to the top, and which, in quiet times, sink
again from the top to their natural place at the bottom. To these men
nothing is so hateful as the prospect of a reconciliation between the
orders of the State. A crisis like that which now makes every honest
citizen sad and anxious fills these men with joy, and with a detestable
hope. And how is it that such men, formed by nature and education to be
objects of mere contempt, can ever inspire terror? How is it that such
men, without talents or acquirements sufficient for the management of a
vestry, sometimes become dangerous to great empires? The secret of their
power lies in the indolence or faithlessness of those who ought to take
the lead in the redress of public grievances. The whole history of low
traders in sedition is contained in that fine old Hebrew fable which we
have all read in the Book of Judges. The trees meet to choose a king.
The vine, and the fig tree, and the olive tree decline the office. Then
it is that the sovereignty of the forest devolves upon the bramble:
then it is that from a base and noxious shrub goes forth the fire which
devours the cedars of Lebanon. Let us be instructed. If we are afraid
of political Unions and Reform Associations, let the House of Commons
become the chief point of political union: let the House of Commons
be the great Reform Association. If we are afraid that the people may
attempt to accomplish their wishes by unlawful means, let us give them
a solemn pledge that we will use in their cause all our high and ancient
privileges, so often victorious in old conflicts with tyranny; those
privileges which our ancestors invoked, not in vain, on the day when a
faithless king filled our house with his guards, took his seat, Sir, on
your chair, and saw your predecessor kneeling on the floor before
him.