No More Learning

But, Gentlemen, it is not only here that, on entering again, at your
call, a path of life which I believed that I had quitted forever, I
shall be painfully reminded of the changes which the last five years
have produced. In Parliament I shall look in vain for virtues which I
loved, and for abilities which I admired. Often in debate, and never
more than when we discuss those questions of colonial policy which are
every day acquiring a new interest, I shall remember with regret how
much eloquence and wit, how much acuteness and knowledge, how many
engaging qualities, how many fair hopes, are buried in the grave of poor
Charles Buller. There were other men, men with whom I had no political
connection and little personal connection, men to whom I was, during a
great part of my public life, honestly opposed, but of whom I cannot
now think without grieving that their wisdom, their experience, and the
weight of their great names can never more, in the hour of need, bring
help to the nation or to the throne. Such were those two eminent men
whom I left at the height, one of civil, the other of military fame; one
the oracle of the House of Commons, the other the oracle of the House
of Lords. There were parts of their long public life which they would
themselves, I am persuaded, on a calm retrospect, have allowed to be
justly censurable. But it is impossible to deny that each in his own
department saved the State; that one brought to a triumphant close the
most formidable conflict in which this country was ever engaged with a
foreign enemy; and that the other, at an immense sacrifice of personal
feeling and personal ambition, freed us from an odious monopoly, which
could not have existed many years longer without producing fearful
intestine discords. I regret them both: but I peculiarly regret him who
is associated in my mind with the place to which you have sent me. I
shall hardly know the House of Commons without Sir Robert Peel. On the
first evening on which I took my seat in that House, more than two and
twenty years ago, he held the highest position among the Ministers
of the Crown who sate there. During all the subsequent years of my
parliamentary service I scarcely remember one important discussion in
which he did not bear a part with conspicuous ability. His figure is now
before me: all the tones of his voice are in my ears; and the pain with
which I think that I shall never hear them again would be embittered by
the recollection of some sharp encounters which took place between us,
were it not that at last there was an entire and cordial reconciliation,
and that, only a very few days before his death, I had the pleasure of
receiving from him marks of kindness and esteem of which I shall always
cherish the recollection.

But, Gentlemen, it is not only by those changes which the natural law of
mortality produces, it is not only by the successive disappearances of
eminent men that the face of the world has been changed during the five
years which have elapsed since we met here last. Never since the origin
of our race have there been five years more fertile of great events,
five years which have left behind them a more awful lesson. We have
lived many lives in that time. The revolutions of ages have been
compressed into a few months. France, Germany, Hungary, Italy,--what
a history has theirs been! When we met here last, there was in all of
those countries an outward show of tranquillity; and there were few,
even of the wisest among us, who imagined what wild passions, what wild
theories, were fermenting under that peaceful exterior. An obstinate
resistance to a reasonable reform, a resistance prolonged but for
one day beyond the time, gave the signal for the explosion; and in an
instant, from the borders of Russia to the Atlantic Ocean, everything
was confusion and terror. The streets of the greatest capitals of Europe
were piled up with barricades, and were streaming with civil blood. The
house of Orleans fled from France: the Pope fled from Rome: the Emperor
of Austria was not safe at Vienna. There were popular institutions in
Florence; popular institutions at Naples. One democratic convention sat
at Berlin; another democratic convention at Frankfort. You remember, I
am sure, but too well, how some of the wisest and most honest friends of
liberty, though inclined to look with great indulgence on the excesses
inseparable from revolutions, began first to doubt and then to despair
of the prospects of mankind. You remember how all sorts of animosity,
national, religious, and social, broke forth together. You remember
how with the hatred of discontented subjects to their governments was
mingled the hatred of race to race and of class to class. For myself, I
stood aghast; and though naturally of a sanguine disposition, I did for
one moment doubt whether the progress of society was not about to be
arrested, nay, to be suddenly and violently turned back; whether we
were not doomed to pass in one generation from the civilisation of the
nineteenth century to the barbarism of the fifth. I remembered that Adam
Smith and Gibbon had told us that the dark ages were gone, never more
to return, that modern Europe was in no danger of the fate which had
befallen the Roman empire. That flood, they said, would no more return
to cover the earth: and they seemed to reason justly: for they compared
the immense strength of the enlightened part of the world with the
weakness of the part which remained savage; and they asked whence were
to come the Huns and the Vandals, who should again destroy civilisation?
It had not occurred to them that civilisation itself might engender the
barbarians who should destroy it. It had not occurred to them that
in the very heart of great capitals, in the neighbourhood of splendid
palaces, and churches, and theatres, and libraries, and museums, vice
and ignorance might produce a race of Huns fiercer than those who
marched under Attila, and of Vandals more bent on destruction than those
who followed Genseric. Such was the danger. It passed by. Civilisation
was saved, but at what a price! The tide of popular feeling turned and
ebbed almost as fast as it had risen. Imprudent and obstinate opposition
to reasonable demands had brought on anarchy; and as soon as men had
a near view of anarchy they fled in terror to crouch at the feet of
despotism. To the dominion of mobs armed with pikes succeeded the
sterner and more lasting dominion of disciplined armies. The Papacy
rose from its debasement; rose more intolerant and insolent than before;
intolerant and insolent as in the days of Hildebrand; intolerant and
insolent to a degree which dismayed and disappointed those who had
fondly cherished the hope that the spirit which had animated the
Crusaders and the Inquisitors had been mitigated by the lapse of years
and by the progress of knowledge. Through all that vast region, where
little more than four years ago we looked in vain for any stable
authority, we now look in vain for any trace of constitutional freedom.
And we, Gentlemen, in the meantime, have been exempt from both those
calamities which have wrought ruin all around us. The madness of 1848
did not subvert the British throne. The reaction which followed has not
destroyed British liberty.

And why is this? Why has our country, with all the ten plagues raging
around her, been a land of Goshen? Everywhere else was the thunder and
the fire running along the ground,--a very grievous storm,--a storm such
as there was none like it since man was on the earth; yet everything
tranquil here; and then again thick night, darkness that might be felt;
and yet light in all our dwellings. We owe this singular happiness,
under the blessing of God, to a wise and noble constitution, the work of
many generations of great men. Let us profit by experience; and let us
be thankful that we profit by the experience of others, and not by our
own. Let us prize our constitution: let us purify it: let us amend it;
but let us not destroy it. Let us shun extremes, not only because each
extreme is in itself a positive evil, but also because each extreme
necessarily engenders its opposite. If we love civil and religious
freedom, let us in the day of danger uphold law and order. If we are
zealous for law and order, let us prize, as the best safeguard of law
and order, civil and religious freedom.

Yes, Gentlemen; if I am asked why we are free with servitude all around
us, why our Habeas Corpus Act has not been suspended, why our press
is still subject to no censor, why we still have the liberty of
association, why our representative institutions still abide in all
their strength, I answer, It is because in the year of revolutions we
stood firmly by our Government in its peril; and, if I am asked why
we stood by our Government in its peril, when men all around us were
engaged in pulling Governments down, I answer, It was because we knew
that though our Government was not a perfect Government, it was a good
Government, that its faults admitted of peaceable and legal remedies,
that it had never inflexibly opposed just demands, that we had obtained
concessions of inestimable value, not by beating the drum, not by
ringing the tocsin, not by tearing up the pavement, not by running to
the gunsmiths' shops to search for arms, but by the mere force of reason
and public opinion. And, Gentlemen, preeminent among those pacific
victories of reason and public opinion, the recollection of which
chiefly, I believe, carried us safely through the year of revolutions
and through the year of counter-revolutions, I would place two great
reforms, inseparably associated, one with the memory of an illustrious
man, who is now beyond the reach of envy, the other with the name of
another illustrious man, who is still, and, I hope, long will be, a
living mark for distinction. I speak of the great commercial reform of
1846, the work of Sir Robert Peel, and of the great parliamentary reform
of 1832, the work of many eminent statesmen, among whom none was more
conspicuous than Lord John Russell. I particularly call your attention
to those two great reforms, because it will, in my opinion, be the
especial duty of that House of Commons in which, by your distinguished
favour, I have a seat, to defend the commercial reform of Sir Robert
Peel, and to perfect and extend the parliamentary reform of Lord John
Russell.

With respect to the commercial reform, though I say it will be a sacred
duty to defend it, I do not apprehend that we shall find the task very
difficult. Indeed, I doubt whether we have any reason to apprehend a
direct attack upon the system now established. From the expressions used
during the last session, and during the late elections, by the Ministers
and their adherents, I should, I confess, find it utterly impossible to
draw any inference whatever. They have contradicted each other; and they
have contradicted themselves. Nothing would be easier than to select
from their speeches passages which would prove them to be Freetraders,
and passages which would prove them to be protectionists. But, in truth,
the only inference which can properly be drawn from a speech of one of
these gentlemen in favour of Free Trade is, that, when he spoke, he was
standing for a town; and the only inference which can be drawn from the
speech of another in favour of Protection is, that, when he spoke,
he was standing for a county. I quitted London in the heat of the
elections. I left behind me a Tory candidate for Westminster and a Tory
candidate for Middlesex, loudly proclaiming themselves Derbyites and
Freetraders. All along my journey through Berkshire and Wiltshire I
heard nothing but the cry of Derby and Protection; but when I got to
Bristol, the cry was Derby and Free Trade again. On one side of the
Wash, Lord Stanley, the Under-Secretary of State for the Foreign
Department, a young nobleman of great promise, a young nobleman who
appears to me to inherit a large portion of his father's ability and
energy, held language which was universally understood to indicate that
the Government had altogether abandoned all thought of Protection. Lord
Stanley was addressing the inhabitants of a town. Meanwhile, on the
other side of the Wash, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster was
haranguing the farmers of Lincolnshire; and, when somebody took it upon
him to ask, "What will you do, Mr Christopher, if Lord Derby abandons
Protection? " the Chancellor of the Duchy refused to answer a question so
monstrous, so insulting to Lord Derby. "I will stand by Lord Derby," he
said, "because I know that Lord Derby will stand by Protection. " Well,
these opposite declarations of two eminent persons, both likely to know
the mind of Lord Derby on the subject, go forth, and are taken up
by less distinguished adherents of the party. The Tory candidate for
Leicestershire says, "I put faith in Mr Christopher: while you see Mr
Christopher in the Government, you may be assured that agriculture will
be protected. " But, in East Surrey, which is really a suburb of London,
I find the Tory candidate saying, "Never mind Mr Christopher. I trust to
Lord Stanley. What should Mr Christopher know on the subject? He is not
in the Cabinet: he can tell you nothing about it. " Nay, these tactics
were carried so far that Tories who had formerly been for Free Trade,
turned Protectionists if they stood for counties; and Tories, who had
always been furious Protectionists, declared for Free Trade, without
scruple or shame, if they stood for large towns. Take for example
Lord Maidstone. He was once one of the most vehement Protectionists
in England, and put forth a small volume, which, as I am an elector of
Westminster, and as he was a candidate for Westminster, I thought it my
duty to buy, in order to understand his opinions. It is entitled Free
Trade Hexameters. Of the poetical merits of Lord Maidstone's hexameters
I shall not presume to give an opinion. You may all form an opinion for
yourselves by ordering copies. They may easily be procured: for I was
assured, when I bought mine in Bond Street, that the supply on hand
was still considerable. But of the political merits of Lord Maidstone's
hexameters I can speak with confidence; and it is impossible to
conceive a fiercer attack, according to the measure of the power of
the assailant, than that which his lordship made on Sir Robert Peel's
policy. On the other hand, Sir Fitzroy Kelly, who is now Solicitor
General, and who was Solicitor General under Sir Robert Peel, voted
steadily with Sir Robert Peel, doubtless from a regard to the public
interest, which would have suffered greatly by the retirement of so able
a lawyer from the service of the Crown. Sir Fitzroy did not think it
necessary to lay down his office even when Sir Robert Peel brought in
the bill which established a free trade in corn. But unfortunately,
Lord Maidstone becomes a candidate for the City of Westminster, and Sir
Fitzroy Kelly stands for an agricultural county. Instantly, therefore,
Lord Maidstone forgets his verses, and Sir Fitzroy Kelly forgets his
votes. Lord Maidstone declares himself a convert to the opinions of Sir
Robert Peel; and Sir Robert Peel's own Solicitor General lifts up his
head intrepidly, and makes a speech, apparently composed out of Lord
Maidstone's hexameters.

It is therefore, Gentlemen, utterly impossible for me to pretend to
infer, from the language held by the members of the Government,
and their adherents, what course they will take on the subject of
Protection. Nevertheless, I confidently say that the system established
by Sir Robert Peel is perfectly safe. The law which repealed the Corn
Laws stands now on a much firmer foundation than when it was first
passed. We are stronger than ever in reason; and we are stronger than
ever in numbers. We are stronger than ever in reason, because what was
only prophecy is now history. No person can now question the salutary
effect which the repeal of the Corn Laws has had on our trade and
industry. We are stronger than ever in numbers. You, I am sure,
recollect the time when a formidable opposition to the repeal of the
Corn Laws was made by a class which was most deeply interested in that
repeal; I mean the labouring classes. You recollect that, in many large
towns, ten years ago, the friends of Free Trade could not venture to
call meetings for the purpose of petitioning against the Corn Laws, for
fear of being interrupted by a crowd of working people, who had been
taught by a certain class of demagogues to say that the question was
one in which working people had no interest, that it was purely a
capitalist's question, that, if the poor man got a large loaf instead of
a small one, he would get from the capitalist only a sixpence instead
of a shilling. I never had the slightest faith in those doctrines.
Experience even then seemed to me completely to confute them. I compared
place with place; and I found that, though bread was dearer in England
than in Ohio, wages were higher in Ohio than in England. I compared
time with time; and I saw that those times when bread was cheapest
in England, within my own memory, were also the times in which the
condition of the labouring classes was the happiest. But now the
experiment has been tried in a manner which admits of no dispute. I
should be glad to know, if there were now an attempt made to impose a
tax on corn, what demagogue would be able to bring a crowd of working
men to hold up their hands in favour of such a tax. Thus strong,
Gentlemen, in reason, and thus strong in numbers, we need, I believe,
apprehend no direct attack on the principles of Free Trade. It will,
however, be one of the first duties of your representatives to be
vigilant that no indirect attack shall be made on these principles; and
to take care that in our financial arrangements no undue favour shall be
shown to any class.

With regard to the other question which I have mentioned, the question
of Parliamentary Reform, I think that the time is at hand when that
question will require the gravest consideration, when it will be
necessary to reconsider the Reform Act of 1832, and to amend it
temperately and cautiously, but in a large and liberal spirit. I confess
that, in my opinion, this revision cannot be made with advantage, except
by the Ministers of the Crown. I greatly doubt whether it will be found
possible to carry through any plan of improvement if we have not the
Government heartily with us; and I must say that from the present
Administration I can, as to that matter, expect nothing good. What
precisely I am to expect from them I do not know, whether the most
obstinate opposition to every change, or the most insanely violent
change. If I look to their conduct, I find the gravest reasons for
apprehending that they may at one time resist the most just demands,
and at another time, from the merest caprice, propose the wildest
innovations. And I will tell you why I entertain this opinion. I am
sorry that, in doing so, I must mention the name of a gentleman for
whom, personally, I have the highest respect; I mean Mr Walpole, the
Secretary of State for the Home Department. My own acquaintance with him
is slight; but I know him well by character; and I believe him to be
an honourable, an excellent, an able man. No man is more esteemed in
private life: but of his public conduct I must claim the right to speak
with freedom; and I do so with the less scruple because he has himself
set me an example of that freedom, and because I am really now standing
on the defensive. Mr Walpole lately made a speech to the electors of
Midhurst; and in that speech he spoke personally of Lord John Russell
as one honourable man should speak of another, and as, I am sure, I
wish always to speak of Mr Walpole. But in Lord John's public conduct Mr
Walpole found many faults. Chief among those faults was this, that
his lordship had re-opened the question of reform. Mr Walpole declared
himself to be opposed on principle to organic change. He justly said
that if, unfortunately, organic change should be necessary, whatever
was done ought to be done with much deliberation and with caution almost
timorous; and he charged Lord John with having neglected these plain
rules of prudence. I was perfectly thunderstruck when I read the speech:
for I could not but recollect that the most violent and democratic
change that ever was proposed within the memory of the oldest man had
been proposed but a few weeks before by this same Mr Walpole, as the
organ of the present Government. Do you remember the history of the
Militia Bill? In general, when a great change in our institutions is
to be proposed from the Treasury Bench, the Minister announces his
intention some weeks before. There is a great attendance: there is
the most painful anxiety to know what he is going to recommend. I well
remember,--for I was present,--with what breathless suspense six hundred
persons waited, on the first of March, 1831, to hear Lord John Russell
explain the principles of his Reform Bill. But what was his Reform Bill
to the Reform Bill of the Derby Administration? At the end of a night,
in the coolest way possible, without the smallest notice, Mr Walpole
proposed to add to the tail of the Militia Bill a clause to the effect,
that every man who had served in the militia for two years should have
a vote for the county. What is the number of those voters who were to be
entitled to vote in this way for counties? The militia of England is to
consist of eighty thousand men; and the term of service is to be five
years. In ten years the number will be one hundred and sixty thousand;
in twenty years, three hundred and twenty thousand; and in twenty-five
years, four hundred thousand. Some of these new electors will, of
course, die off in twenty-five years, though the lives are picked lives,
remarkably good lives. What the mortality is likely to be I do not
accurately know; but any actuary will easily calculate it for you. I
should say, in round numbers, that you will have, when the system has
been in operation for a generation, an addition of about three hundred
thousand to the county constituent bodies; that is to say, six thousand
voters on the average will be added to every county in England
and Wales. That is surely an immense addition. And what is the
qualification? Why, the first qualification is youth. These electors
are not to be above a certain age; but the nearer you can get them to
eighteen the better. The second qualification is poverty. The elector
is to be a person to whom a shilling a-day is an object. The third
qualification is ignorance; for I venture to say that, if you take the
trouble to observe the appearance of those young fellows who follow the
recruiting sergeant in the streets, you will at once say that, among our
labouring classes, they are not the most educated, they are not the
most intelligent. That they are brave, stout lads, I fully believe. Lord
Hardinge tells me that he never saw a finer set of young men; and I have
not the slightest doubt that, if necessary, after a few weeks' training,
they will be found standing up for our firesides against the best
disciplined soldiers that the Continent can produce. But these are not
the qualifications which fit men to choose legislators. A young man who
goes from the ploughtail into the army is generally rather thoughtless
and disposed to idleness. Oh! but there is another qualification which I
had forgotten: the voter must be five feet two. There is a qualification
for you! Only think of measuring a man for the franchise! And this is
the work of a Conservative Government, this plan which would swamp all
the counties in England with electors who possess the Derby-Walpole
qualifications; that is to say, youth, poverty, ignorance, a roving
disposition, and five feet two. Why, what right have people who have
proposed such a change as this to talk about--I do not say Lord John
Russell's imprudence--but the imprudence of Ernest Jones or of any other
Chartist? The Chartists, to do them justice, would give the franchise to
wealth as well as to poverty, to knowledge as well as to ignorance, to
mature age as well as to youth. But to make a qualification compounded
of disqualifications is a feat of which the whole glory belongs to our
Conservative rulers. This astounding proposition was made, I believe, in
a very thin House: but the next day the House was full enough, everybody
having come down to know what was going to happen. One asked, why not
this? and another, why not that? Are all the regular troops to have
the franchise? all the policemen? all the sailors? for, if you give the
franchise to ploughboys of twenty-one, what class of honest Englishmen
and Scotchmen can you with decency exclude? But up gets the Home
Secretary, and informs the House that the plan had not been sufficiently
considered, that some of his colleagues were not satisfied, and that
he would not press his proposition. Now, if it had happened to me to
propose such a reform at one sitting of the House, and at the next
sitting to withdraw it, because it had not been well considered, I do
think that, to the end of my life, I never should have talked about the
exceeding imprudence of reopening the question of reform; I should never
have ventured to read any other man a lecture about the caution with
which all plans of organic change ought to be framed. I repeat that,
if I am to judge from the language of the present Ministers, taken in
connection with this solitary instance of their legislative skill in the
way of reform, I am utterly at a loss what to expect. On the whole, what
I do expect is that they will offer a pertinacious, vehement, provoking
opposition to safe and reasonable change, and that then, in some moment
of fear or caprice, they will bring in, and fling on the table, in a
fit of desperation or levity, some plan which will loosen the very
foundations of society.

For my own part, I think that the question of Parliamentary Reform is
one which must soon be taken up; but it ought to be taken up by the
Government; and I hope, before long, to see in office a Ministry which
will take it up in earnest. I dare say that you will not suspect me of
saying so from any interested feeling. In no case whatever shall I again
be a member of any Ministry. During what may remain of my public life,
I shall be the servant of none but you. I have nothing to ask of any
government, except that protection which every government owes to a
faithful and loyal subject of the Queen. But I do hope to see in office
before long a Ministry which will treat this great question as it
should be treated. It will be the duty of that Ministry to revise the
distribution of power. It will be the duty of that Ministry to consider
whether small constituent bodies, notoriously corrupt, and proved to
be corrupt, such, for example, as Harwich, ought to retain the power of
sending members to Parliament. It will be the duty of such a Ministry
to consider whether small constituent bodies, even less notoriously
corrupt, ought to have, in the counsels of the empire, a share as great
as that of the West Riding of York, and twice as great as that of the
county of Perth. It will be the duty of such a Ministry to consider
whether it may not be possible, without the smallest danger to peace,
law, and order, to extend the elective franchise to classes of the
community which do not now possess it. As to universal suffrage, on that
subject you already know my opinions; and I now come before you with
those opinions strengthened by everything which, since I last professed
them, has passed in Europe. We now know, by the clearest of all proofs,
that universal suffrage, even united with secret voting, is no security
against the establishment of arbitrary power. But, Gentlemen, I do look
forward, and at no very remote period, to an extension of the franchise,
such as I once thought unsafe. I believe that such an extension will,
by the course of events, be brought about in the very best and happiest
way. Perhaps I may be sanguine: but I think that good times are coming
for the labouring classes of this country. I do not entertain that hope
because I expect that Fourierism, or Saint Simonianism, or Socialism, or
any of those other "isms" for which the plain English word is "robbery,"
will prevail. I know that such schemes only aggravate the misery which
they pretend to relieve. I know that it is possible, by legislation, to
make the rich poor, but that it is utterly impossible to make the poor
rich. But I believe that the progress of experimental science, the
free intercourse of nation with nation, the unrestricted influx of
commodities from countries where they are cheap, and the unrestricted
efflux of labour towards countries where it is dear, will soon produce,
nay, I believe that they are beginning to produce, a great and most
blessed social revolution. I need not tell you, Gentlemen, that in those
colonies which have been planted by our race,--and, when I speak of our
colonies I speak as well of those which have separated from us as of
those which still remain united to us,--I need not tell you that in
our colonies the condition of the labouring man has long been far more
prosperous than in any part of the Old World. And why is this? Some
people tell you that the inhabitants of Pennsylvania and New England
are better off than the inhabitants of the Old World, because the
United States have a republican form of government. But we know that the
inhabitants of Pennsylvania and New England were more prosperous than
the inhabitants of the Old World when Pennsylvania and New England were
as loyal as any part of the dominions of George the First, George the
Second, and George the Third; and we know that in Van Diemen's Land, in
New Zealand, in Australasia, in New Brunswick, in Canada, the subjects
of Her Majesty are as prosperous as they could be under the government
of a President. The real cause is that, in these new countries, where
there is a boundless extent of fertile land, nothing is easier than for
the labourer to pass from the place which is overstocked with labour to
the place which is understocked; and that thus both he who moves and he
who stays always have enough. This it is which keeps up the prosperity
of the Atlantic States of the Union. They pour their population back to
the Ohio, across the Ohio to the Mississippi, and beyond the Mississippi
to the Rocky Mountains. Everywhere the desert is receding before the
advancing flood of human life and civilisation; and, in the meantime,
those who are left behind enjoy abundance, and never endure such
privations as in old countries too often befall the labouring classes.
And why has not the condition of our labourers been equally fortunate?
Simply, as I believe, on account of the great distance which separates
our country from the new and unoccupied part of the world, and on
account of the expense of traversing that distance. Science, however,
has abridged, and is abridging, that distance: science has diminished,
and is diminishing, that expense. Already New Zealand is, for all
practical purposes, nearer to us than New England was to the Puritans
who fled thither from the tyranny of Laud. Already the ports of North
America, Halifax, Boston, and New York, are nearer to us than, within
the memory of persons now living, the Island of Skye and the county of
Donegal were to London. Already emigration is beginning to produce the
same effect here which it has produced on the Atlantic States of
the Union. And do not imagine that our countryman who goes abroad is
altogether lost to us. Even if he goes from under the dominion of the
British Queen and the protection of the British flag he will still,
under the benignant system of free trade, continue to be bound to us by
close ties. If he ceases to be a neighbour, he is still a benefactor
and a customer. Go where he may, if you will but maintain that system
inviolate, it is for us that he is turning the forests into cornfields
on the banks of the Mississippi; it is for us that he is tending his
sheep and preparing his fleeces in the heart of Australasia; and in
the meantime it is from us that he receives those commodities which are
produced with most advantage in old societies, where great masses of
capital have been accumulated. His candlesticks and his pots and his
pans come from Birmingham; his knives from Sheffield; the light cotton
jacket which he wears in summer from Manchester; the good cloth coat
which he wears in winter from Leeds; and in return he sends us back,
from what was lately a wilderness, the good flour out of which is made
the large loaf which the British labourer divides among his children.
I
believe that it is in these changes that we shall see the best solution
of the question of the franchise. We shall make our institutions more
democratic than they are, not by lowering the franchise to the level of
the great mass of the community, but by raising, in a time which will be
very short when compared with the existence of a nation, the great mass
up to the level of the franchise.

I feel that I must stop. I had meant to advert to some other subjects.
I had meant to say something about the ballot, to which, as you know, I
have always been favourable; something about triennial parliaments, to
which, as you know, I have always been honestly opposed; something about
your university tests; something about the cry for religious equality
which has lately been raised in Ireland; but I feel that I cannot well
proceed. I have only strength to thank you again, from the very bottom
of my heart, for the great honour which you have done me in choosing me,
without solicitation, to represent you in Parliament. I am proud of our
connection; and I shall try to act in such a manner that you may not be
ashamed of it.

*****




EXCLUSION OF JUDGES FROM THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. (JUNE 1, 1853) A SPEECH
DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON THE 1ST OF JUNE 1853.

On the first of June 1853, Lord Hotham, Member for Kent, moved the third
reading of a bill of which the chief object was to make the Master
of the Rolls incapable of sitting in the House of Commons. Mr Henry
Drummond, Member for Surrey, moved that the bill should be read a third
time that day six months. In support of Mr Drummond's amendment the
following Speech was made.

The amendment was carried by 224 votes to 123.

I cannot, Sir, suffer the House to proceed to a division without
expressing the very strong opinion which I have formed on this subject.
I shall give my vote, with all my heart and soul, for the amendment
moved by my honourable friend the Member for Surrey. I never gave a vote
in my life with a more entire confidence that I was in the right; and I
cannot but think it discreditable to us that a bill for which there is
so little to be said, and against which there is so much to be said,
should have been permitted to pass through so many stages without a
division.

On what grounds, Sir, does the noble lord, the Member for Kent, ask
us to make this change in the law? The only ground, surely, on which
a Conservative legislator ought ever to propose a change in the law is
this, that the law, as it stands, has produced some evil. Is it then
pretended that the law, as it stands, has produced any evil? The noble
lord himself tells you that it has produced no evil whatever. Nor can
it be said that the experiment has not been fairly tried. This House and
the office of Master of the Rolls began to exist, probably in the same
generation, certainly in the same century. During six hundred years this
House has been open to Masters of the Rolls. Many Masters of the Rolls
have sate here, and have taken part, with great ability and authority,
in our deliberations. To go no further back than the accession of the
House of Hanover, Jekyll was a member of this House, and Strange, and
Kenyon, and Pepper Arden, and Sir William Grant, and Sir John Copley,
and Sir Charles Pepys, and finally Sir John Romilly. It is not even
pretended that any one of these eminent persons was ever, on any single
occasion, found to be the worse member of this House for being Master of
the Rolls, or the worse Master of the Rolls for being a member of this
House. And if so, is it, I ask, the part of a wise statesman, is it, I
ask still more emphatically, the part of a Conservative statesman, to
alter a system which has lasted six centuries, and which has never
once, during all those centuries, produced any but good effects, merely
because it is not in harmony with an abstract principle?

And what is the abstract principle for the sake of which we are asked to
innovate in reckless defiance of all the teaching of experience? It is
this; that political functions ought to be kept distinct from judicial
functions. So sacred, it seems, is this principle, that the union of the
political and judicial characters ought not to be suffered to continue
even in a case in which that union has lasted through many ages without
producing the smallest practical inconvenience. "Nothing is so hateful,"
I quote the words of the noble lord who brought in this bill, "nothing
is so hateful as a political judge. "

Now, Sir, if I assent to the principle laid down by the noble lord, I
must pronounce his bill the most imbecile, the most pitiful, attempt at
reform that ever was made. The noble lord is a homoeopathist in state
medicine. His remedies are administered in infinitesimal doses. If he
will, for a moment, consider how our tribunals are constituted, and how
our parliament is constituted, he will perceive that the judicial
and political character are, through all grades, everywhere combined,
everywhere interwoven, and that therefore the evil which he proposes
to remove vanishes, as the mathematicians say, when compared with the
immense mass of evil which he leaves behind.

It has been asked, and very sensibly asked, why, if you exclude the
Master of the Rolls from the House, you should not also exclude the
Recorder of the City of London. I should be very sorry to see the
Recorder of the City of London excluded. But I must say that the reasons
for excluding him are ten times as strong as the reasons for excluding
the Master of the Rolls. For it is well-known that political cases
of the highest importance have been tried by Recorders of the City of
London. But why not exclude all Recorders, and all Chairmen of Quarter
Sessions? I venture to say that there are far stronger reasons for
excluding a Chairman of Quarter Sessions than for excluding a Master of
the Rolls. I long ago attended, during two or three years, the Quarter
Sessions of a great county. There I constantly saw in the chair an
eminent member of this House. An excellent criminal judge he was. Had
he been a veteran lawyer, he could hardly have tried causes more
satisfactorily or more expeditiously. But he was a keen politician: he
had made a motion which had turned out a Government; and when he died
he was a Cabinet Minister. Yet this gentleman, the head of the Blue
interest, as it was called, in his county, might have had to try men of
the Orange party for rioting at a contested election. He voted for the
corn laws; and he might have had to try men for breaches of the peace
which had originated in the discontent caused by the corn laws. He was,
as I well remember, hooted, and, I rather think, pelted too, by the mob
of London for his conduct towards Queen Caroline; and, when he went
down to his county, he might have had to sit in judgment on people
for breaking windows which had not been illuminated in honour of Her
Majesty's victory. This is not a solitary instance. There are, I dare
say, in this House, fifty Chairmen of Quarter Sessions. And this is an
union of judicial and political functions against which there is really
much to be said. For it is important, not only that the administration
of justice should be pure, but that it should be unsuspected. Now I
am willing to believe that the administration of justice by the unpaid
magistrates in political cases is pure: but unsuspected it certainly is
not. It is notorious that, in times of political excitement, the cry
of the whole democratic press always is that a poor man, who has been
driven by distress to outrage, has far harder measure at the Quarter
Sessions than at the Assizes. So loud was this cry in 1819 that Mr
Canning, in one of his most eloquent speeches, pronounced it the most
alarming of all the signs of the times. See then how extravagantly, how
ludicrously inconsistent your legislation is. You lay down the principle
that the union of political functions and judicial functions is a
hateful abuse. That abuse you determine to remove. You accordingly leave
in this House a crowd of judges who, in troubled times, have to try
persons charged with political offences; of judges who have often
been accused, truly or falsely, of carrying to the judgment seat their
political sympathies and antipathies; and you shut out of the house a
single judge, whose duties are of such a nature that it has never once,
since the time of Edward the First, been even suspected that he or any
of his predecessors has, in the administration of justice, favoured a
political ally, or wronged a political opponent.

But even if I were to admit, what I altogether deny, that there is
something in the functions of the Master of the Rolls which makes it
peculiarly desirable that he should not take any part in politics,
I should still vote against this bill, as most inconsistent and
inefficient. If you think that he ought to be excluded from political
assemblies, why do not you exclude him? You do no such thing. You
exclude him from the House of Commons, but you leave the House of Lords
open to him. Is not the House of Lords a political assembly? And is it
not certain that, during several generations, judges have generally had
a great ascendency in the House of Lords? A hundred years ago a
great judge, Lord Hardwicke, possessed an immense influence there. He
bequeathed his power to another great judge, Lord Mansfield. When age
had impaired the vigour of Lord Mansfield, the authority which he had,
during many years, enjoyed, passed to a third judge, Lord Thurlow.
Everybody knows what a dominion that eminent judge, Lord Eldon,
exercised over the peers, what a share he took in making and unmaking
ministries, with what idolatrous veneration he was regarded by one great
party in the State, with what dread and aversion he was regarded by the
other. When the long reign of Lord Eldon had terminated, other judges,
Whig and Tory, appeared at the head of contending factions. Some of us
can well remember the first ten days of October, 1831. Who, indeed, that
lived through those days can ever forget them? It was the most exciting,
the most alarming political conjuncture of my time. On the morning of
the eighth of October, the Reform Bill, after a discussion which had
lasted through many nights, was rejected by the Lords. God forbid that
I should again see such a crisis! I can never hope again to hear such
a debate. It was indeed a splendid display of various talents and
acquirements. There are, I dare say, some here who, like myself, watched
through the last night of that conflict till the late autumnal dawn,
sometimes walking up and down the long gallery, sometimes squeezing
ourselves in behind the throne, or below the bar, to catch the eloquence
of the great orators who, on that great occasion, surpassed themselves.
There I saw, in the foremost ranks, confronting each other, two judges,
on one side Lord Brougham, Chancellor of the realm, on the other Lord
Lyndhurst, Chief Baron of the Exchequer. How eagerly we hung on their
words! How eagerly those words were read before noon by hundreds of
thousands in the capital, and within forty-eight hours, by millions
in every part of the kingdom! With what a burst of popular fury
the decision of the House was received by the nation! The ruins of
Nottingham Castle, the ruins of whole streets and squares at Bristol,
proved but too well to what a point the public feeling had been wound
up. If it be true that nothing is so hateful to the noble lord, the
Member for Kent, as a judge who takes part in political contentions, why
does he not bring in a bill to prevent judges from entering those lists
in which Lord Brougham and Lord Lyndhurst then encountered each other?
But no: the noble lord is perfectly willing to leave those lists open to
the Master of the Rolls. The noble lord's objection is not to the union
of the judicial character and the political character. He is quite
willing that anywhere but here judges should be politicians. The Master
of the Rolls may be the soul of a great party, the head of a great
party, the favourite tribune of a stormy democracy, the chief spokesman
of a haughty aristocracy. He may do all that declamation and sophistry
can do to inflame the passions or mislead the judgment of a senate. But
it must not be in this room. He must go a hundred and fifty yards hence.
He must sit on a red bench, and not on a green one. He must say, "My
Lords," and not "Mr Speaker. " He must say, "Content," and not "Aye. "
And then he may, without at all shocking the noble lord, be the most
stirring politician in the kingdom.

But I am understating my case. I am greatly understating it. For, Sir,
this union of the judicial character and the political character, in
Members of the other House of Parliament, is not a merely accidental
union. Not only may judges be made peers; but all the peers are
necessarily judges. Surely when the noble lord told us that the union
of political functions and of judicial functions was the most hateful of
all things, he must have forgotten that, by the fundamental laws of the
realm, a political assembly is the supreme court of appeal, the court
which finally confirms or annuls the judgments of the courts, both of
common law and of equity, at Westminster, of the courts of Scotland, of
the courts of Ireland, of this very Master of the Rolls about whom we
are debating. Surely, if the noble lord's principle be a sound one, it
is not with the Master of the Rolls but with the House of Peers that we
ought to begin. For, beyond all dispute, it is more important that the
court above should be constituted on sound principles than that the
court below should be so constituted. If the Master of the Rolls goes
wrong, the House of Peers may correct his errors. But who is to correct
the errors of the House of Peers? All these considerations the noble
lord overlooks. He is quite willing that the peers shall sit in the
morning as judges, shall determine questions affecting the property, the
liberty, the character of the Queen's subjects, shall determine those
questions in the last resort, shall overrule the decisions of all the
other tribunals in the country; and that then, in the afternoon,
these same noble persons shall meet as politicians, and shall debate,
sometimes rather sharply, sometimes in a style which we dare not imitate
for fear that you, Sir, should call us to order, about the Canadian
Clergy Reserves, the Irish National Schools, the Disabilities of the
Jews, the Government of India. I do not blame the noble lord for not
attempting to alter this state of things. We cannot alter it, I know,
without taking up the foundations of our constitution. But is it not
absurd, while we live under such a constitution, while, throughout
our whole system from top to bottom, political functions and judicial
functions are combined, to single out, not on any special ground, but
merely at random, one judge from a crowd of judges, and to exclude
him, not from all political assemblies, but merely from one political
assembly? Was there ever such a mummery as the carrying of this bill
to the other House will be, if, unfortunately, it should be carried
thither. The noble lord, himself, I have no doubt, a magistrate, himself
at once a judge and a politician, accompanied by several gentlemen who
are at once judges and politicians, will go to the bar of the Lords, who
are all at once judges and politicians, will deliver the bill into the
hands of the Chancellor, who is at once the chief judge of the realm and
a Cabinet Minister, and will return hither proud of having purified the
administration of justice from the taint of politics.

No, Sir, no; for the purpose of purifying the administration of justice
this bill is utterly impotent. It will be effectual for one purpose,
and for one purpose only, for the purpose of weakening and degrading the
House of Commons. This is not the first time that an attempt has been
made, under specious pretexts, to lower the character and impair the
efficiency of the assembly which represents the great body of the
nation. More than a hundred and fifty years ago there was a general cry
that the number of placemen in Parliament was too great. No doubt, Sir,
the number was too great: the evil required a remedy: but some rash and
short-sighted though probably well meaning men, proposed a remedy which
would have produced far more evil than it would have removed. They
inserted in the Act of Settlement a clause providing that no person who
held any office under the Crown should sit in this House. The clause was
not to take effect till the House of Hanover should come to the throne;
and, happily for the country, before the House of Hanover came to the
throne, the clause was repealed. Had it not been repealed, the Act of
Settlement would have been, not a blessing, but a curse to the country.
There was no want, indeed, of plausible and popular commonplaces in
favour of this clause. No man, it was said, can serve two masters. A
courtier cannot be a good guardian of public liberty. A man who derives
his subsistence from the taxes cannot be trusted to check the public
expenditure. You will never have purity, you will never have economy,
till the stewards of the nation are independent of the Crown, and
dependent only on their constituents. Yes; all this sounded well: but
what man of sense now doubts that the effect of a law excluding all
official men from this House would have been to depress that branch of
the legislature which springs from the people, and to increase the
power and consideration of the hereditary aristocracy? The whole
administration would have been in the hands of peers. The chief object
of every eminent Commoner would have been to obtain a peerage. As
soon as any man had gained such distinction here by his eloquence and
knowledge that he was selected to fill the post of Chancellor of the
Exchequer, Secretary of State, or First Lord of the Admiralty, he would
instantly have turned his back on what would then indeed have been
emphatically the Lower House, and would have gone to that chamber in
which alone it would have been possible for him fully to display his
abilities and fully to gratify his ambition. Walpole and Pulteney, the
first Pitt and the second Pitt, Fox, Windham, Canning, Peel, all the men
whose memory is inseparably associated with this House, all the men of
whose names we think with pride as we pass through St Stephen's Hall,
the place of their contentions and their triumphs, would, in the vigour
and prime of life, have become Barons and Viscounts. The great conflict
of parties would have been transferred from the Commons to the Lords.
It would have been impossible for an assembly, in which not a single
statesman of great fame, authority, and experience in important affairs
would have been found, to hold its own against an assembly in which
all our eminent politicians and orators would have been collected. All
England, all Europe, would have been reading with breathless interest
the debates of the peers, and looking with anxiety for the divisions of
the peers, while we, instead of discussing high questions of state, and
giving a general direction to the whole domestic and foreign policy
of the realm, should have been settling the details of canal bills and
turnpike bills.

The noble lord, the Member for Kent does not, it is true, propose so
extensive and important a change as that which the authors of the Act of
Settlement wished to make. But the tendency of this bill is, beyond
all doubt, to make this House less capable than it once was, and less
capable than the other House now is, of discharging some of the most
important duties of a legislative assembly.

Of the duties of a legislative assembly, the noble lord, and some of
those gentlemen who support his bill, seem to me to have formed a very
imperfect notion. They argue as if the only business of the House of
Commons was to turn one set of men out of place, and to bring another
set into place; as if a judge could find no employment here but factious
wrangling. Sir, it is not so. There are extensive and peaceful provinces
of parliamentary business far removed from the fields of battle where
hostile parties encounter each other. A great jurist, seated among
us, might, without taking any prominent part in the strife between
the Ministry and the Opposition, render to his country most valuable
service, and earn for himself an imperishable name. Nor was there ever
a time when the assistance of such a jurist was more needed, or was more
likely to be justly appreciated, than at present. No observant man can
fail to perceive that there is in the public mind a general, a
growing, an earnest, and at the same time, I must say, a most sober and
reasonable desire for extensive law reform. I hope and believe that, for
some time to come, no year will pass without progress in law reform;
and I hold that of all law reformers the best is a learned, upright, and
large-minded judge. At such a time it is that we are called upon to shut
the door of this House against the last great judicial functionary to
whom the unwise legislation of former parliaments has left it open. In
the meantime the other House is open to him. It is open to all the other
judges who are not suffered to sit here. It is open to the Judge of
the Admiralty Court, whom the noble lord, twelve or thirteen years ago,
prevailed on us, in an unlucky hour, to exclude. In the other House
is the Lord Chancellor, and several retired Chancellors, a Lord Chief
Justice, in several retired Chief Justices. The Queen may place there
to-morrow the Chief Baron, the two Lords Justices, the three Vice
Chancellors, the very Master of the Rolls about whom we are debating:
and we, as if we were not already too weak for the discharge of our
functions, are trying to weaken ourselves still more. I harbour no
unfriendly feeling towards the Lords. I anticipate no conflict with
them. But it is not fit that we should be unable to bear an equal part
with them in the great work of improving and digesting the law. It
is not fit that we should be under the necessity of placing implicit
confidence in their superior wisdom, and of registering without
amendment, any bill which they may send us. To that humiliating
situation we are, I grieve to say, fast approaching. I was much struck
by a circumstance which occurred a few days ago. I heard the honourable
Member for Montrose, who, by the by, is one of the supporters of
this bill, urge the House to pass the Combination Bill, for a most
extraordinary reason. "We really," he said, "cannot tell how the law
about combinations of workmen at present stands; and, not knowing how
the law at present stands, we are quite incompetent to decide whether
it ought to be altered. Let us send the bill up to the Lords. They
understand these things. We do not. There are Chancellors, and
ex-Chancellors, and Judges among them. No doubt they will do what is
proper; and I shall acquiesce in their decision. " Why, Sir, did ever any
legislative assembly abdicate its functions in so humiliating a manner?
Is it not strange that a gentleman, distinguished by his love of popular
institutions, and by the jealousy with which he regards the aristocracy,
should gravely propose that, on a subject which interests and excites
hundreds of thousands of our constituents, we should declare ourselves
incompetent to form an opinion, and beg the Lords to tell us what we
ought to do? And is it not stranger still that, while he admits the
incompetence of the House to discharge some of its most important
functions, and while he attributes that incompetence to the want of
judicial assistance, he should yet wish to shut out of the House the
only high judicial functionary who is now permitted to come into it?

But, says the honourable Member for Montrose, the Master of the Rolls
has duties to perform which, if properly performed, will leave him no
leisure for attendance in this House: it is important that there should
be a division of labour: no man can do two things well; and, if we
suffer a judge to be a member of Parliament, we shall have both a bad
member of Parliament and a bad judge.

Now, Sir, if this argument proves anything, it proves that the Master
of the Rolls, and indeed all the other judges, ought to be excluded from
the House of Lords as well as from the House of Commons. But I deny
that the argument is of any weight. The division of labour has its
disadvantages as well as its advantages. In operations merely mechanical
you can hardly carry the subdivision too far; but you may very easily
carry it too far in operations which require the exercise of high
intellectual powers. It is quite true, as Adam Smith tells us, that a
pin will be best made when one man does nothing but cut the wire, when
another does nothing but mould the head, when a third does nothing but
sharpen the point. But it is not true that Michael Angelo would have
been a greater painter if he had not been a sculptor: it is not true
that Newton would have been a greater experimental philosopher if he had
not been a geometrician; and it is not true that a man will be a worse
lawgiver because he is a great judge. I believe that there is as close
a connection between the functions of the judge and the functions of the
lawgiver as between anatomy and surgery. Would it not be the height of
absurdity to lay down the rule that nobody who dissected the dead should
be allowed to operate on the living? The effect of such a division of
labour would be that you would have nothing but bungling surgery; and
the effect of the division of labour which the honourable Member for
Montrose recommends will be that we shall have plenty of bungling
legislation. Who can be so well qualified to make laws and to mend laws
as a man whose business is to interpret laws and to administer laws? As
to this point I have great pleasure in citing an authority to which
the honourable Member for Montrose will, I know, be disposed to pay the
greatest deference; the authority of Mr Bentham. Of Mr Bentham's
moral and political speculations, I entertain, I must own, a very
mean opinion: but I hold him in high esteem as a jurist. Among all his
writings there is none which I value more than the treatise on Judicial
Organization. In that excellent work he discusses the question whether a
person who holds a judicial office ought to be permitted to hold with
it any other office. Mr Bentham argues strongly and convincingly against
pluralities; but he admits that there is one exception to the general
rule. A judge, he says, ought to be allowed to sit in the legislature as
a representative of the people; for the best school for a legislator
is the judicial bench; and the supply of legislative skill is in all
societies so scanty that none of it can be spared.

My honourable friend, the Member for Surrey, has completely refuted
another argument to which the noble lord, the Member for Kent, appears
to attach considerable importance. The noble lord conceives that no
person can enter this House without stooping to practice arts which
would ill become the gravity of the judicial character. He spoke
particularly of what he called the jollifications usual at elections.
Undoubtedly the festivities at elections are sometimes disgraced by
intemperance, and sometimes by buffoonery; and I wish from the bottom of
my heart that intemperance and buffoonery were the worst means to which
men, reputed upright and honourable in private life, have resorted in
order to obtain seats in the legislature. I should, indeed, be sorry
if any Master of the Rolls should court the favour of the populace by
playing the mounttebank on the hustings or on tavern tables. Still more
sorry should I be if any Master of the Rolls were to disgrace himself
and his office by employing the ministry of the Frails and the Flewkers,
by sending vile emissaries with false names, false addresses, and bags
of sovereigns, to buy the votes of the poor. No doubt a Master of the
Rolls ought to be free, not only from guilt, but from suspicion. I
have not hitherto mentioned the present Master of the Rolls. I have not
mentioned him because, in my opinion, this question ought to be decided
by general and not by personal considerations. I cannot, however,
refrain from saying, with a confidence which springs from long and
intimate acquaintance, that my valued friend, Sir John Romilly, will
never again sit in this House unless he can come in by means very
different from those by which he was turned out. But, Sir, are we
prepared to say that no person can become a representative of the
English people except by some sacrifice of integrity, or at least of
personal dignity? If it be so, we had indeed better think of setting
our House in order. If it be so, the prospects of our country are dark
indeed. How can England retain her place among the nations, if the
assembly to which all her dearest interests are confided, the assembly
which can, by a single vote, transfer the management of her affairs to
new hands, and give a new direction to her whole policy, foreign and
domestic, financial, commercial, and colonial, is closed against every
man who has rigid principles and a fine sense of decorum? But it is
not so. Did that great judge, Sir William Scott, lower his character by
entering this House as Member for the University of Oxford? Did Sir
John Copley lower his character by entering this House as Member for the
University of Cambridge? But the universities, you say, are constituent
bodies of a very peculiar kind. Be it so.