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The Miscellaneous Writings and Speeches of Lord Macaulay, Volume IV..................................................1

It was most reluctantly that I determined to suspend, during the last autumn, a work which is the business and

the pleasure of my life, in order to prepare these Speeches for publication; and it is most reluctantly that I

now give them to the world. Even if I estimated their oratorical merit much more highly than I do, I should

not willingly have revived, in the quiet times in which we are so happy as to live, the memory of those fierce

contentions in which too many years of my public life were passed. Many expressions which, when society

was convulsed by political dissensions, and when the foundations of government were shaking, were heard

by an excited audience with sympathy and applause, may, now that the passions of all parties have subsided,

be thought intemperate and acrimonious. It was especially painful to me to find myself under the necessity of

recalling to my own recollection, and to the recollection of others, the keen encounters which took place

between the late Sir Robert Peel and myself. Some parts of the conduct of that eminent man I must always

think deserving of serious blame. But, on a calm review of his long and chequered public life, I acknowledge,

with sincere pleasure, that his faults were much more than redeemed by great virtues, great sacrifices, and

great services. My political hostility to him was never in the smallest degree tainted by personal illwill.

After his fall from power a cordial reconciliation took place between us: I admired the wisdom, the

moderation, the disinterested patriotism, which he invariably showed during the last and best years of his life;

I lamented his untimely death, as both a private and a public calamity; and I earnestly wished that the sharp

Unhappily an act, for which the law affords no redress, but which I have no hesitation in pronouncing to be a

gross injury to me and a gross fraud on the public, has compelled me to do what I should never have done

willingly. A bookseller, named Vizetelly, who seems to aspire to that sort of distinction which Curll enjoyed

a hundred and twenty years ago, thought fit, without asking my consent, without even giving me any notice,

to announce an edition of my Speeches, and was not ashamed to tell the world in his advertisement that he

published them by special license. When the book appeared, I found that it contained fiftysix speeches, said

to have been delivered by me in the House of Commons. Of these speeches a few were reprinted from reports

which I had corrected for the Mirror of Parliament or the Parliamentary Debates, and were therefore, with the

exception of some errors of the pen and the press, correctly given. The rest bear scarcely the faintest

resemblance to the speeches which I really made. The substance of what I said is perpetually misrepresented.

The connection of the arguments is altogether lost. Extravagant blunders are put into my mouth in almost

every page. An editor who was not grossly ignorant would have perceived that no person to whom the House

of Commons would listen could possibly have been guilty of such blunders. An editor who had the smallest

regard for truth, or for the fame of the person whose speeches he had undertaken to publish, would have had

recourse to the various sources of information which were readily accessible, and, by collating them, would

have produced a book which would at least have contained no absolute nonsense. But I have unfortunately

had an editor whose only object was to make a few pounds, and who was willing to sacrifice to that object

my reputation and his own. He took the very worst report extant, compared it with no other report, removed

no blemish however obvious or however ludicrous, gave to the world some hundreds of pages utterly

contemptible both in matter and manner, and prefixed my name to them. The least that he should have done

was to consult the files of The Times newspaper. I have frequently done so, when I have noticed in his book

any passage more than ordinarily absurd; and I have almost invariably found that in The Times newspaper,

my meaning had been correctly reported, though often in words different from those which I had used.

I could fill a volume with instances of the injustice with which I have been treated. But I will confine myself

to a single speech, the speech on the Dissenters' Chapels Bill. I have selected that speech, not because Mr

Vizetelly's version of that speech is worse than his versions of thirty or forty other speeches, but because I

have before me a report of that speech which an honest and diligent editor would have thought it his first duty

to consult. The report of which I speak was published by the Unitarian Dissenters, who were naturally

desirous that there should be an accurate record of what had passed in a debate deeply interesting to them. It

was not corrected by me: but it generally, though not uniformly, exhibits with fidelity the substance of what I

Mr Vizetelly makes me say that the principle of our Statutes of Limitation was to be found in the legislation

of the Mexicans and Peruvians. That is a matter about which, as I know nothing, I certainly said nothing.

Neither in The Times nor in the Unitarian report is there anything about Mexico or Peru.

Mr Vizetelly next makes me say that the principle of limitation is found "amongst the Pandects of the

Benares." Did my editor believe that I uttered these words, and that the House of Commons listened patiently

to them? If he did, what must be thought of his understanding? If he did not, was it the part of an honest man

to publish such gibberish as mine? The most charitable supposition, which I therefore gladly adopt, is that Mr

Vizetelly saw nothing absurd in the expression which he has attributed to me. The Benares he probably

supposes to be some Oriental nation. What he supposes their Pandects to be I shall not presume to guess. If

he had examined The Times, he would have found no trace of the passage. The reporter, probably, did not

catch what I said, and, being more veracious than Mr Vizetelly, did not choose to ascribe to me what I did not

say. If Mr Vizetelly had consulted the Unitarian report, he would have seen that I spoke of the Pundits of

Benares; and he might, without any very long or costly research, have learned where Benares is, and what a

Mr Vizetelly then represents me as giving the House of Commons some very extraordinary information about

both the Calvinistic and the Arminian Methodists. He makes me say that Whitfield held and taught that the

connection between Church and State was sinful. Whitfield never held or taught any such thing; nor was I so

grossly ignorant of the life and character of that remarkable man as to impute to him a doctrine which he

would have abhorred. Here again, both in The Times and in the Unitarian report, the substance of what I said

Mr Vizetelly proceeds to put into my mouth a curious account of the polity of the Wesleyan Methodists. He

makes me say that, after John Wesley's death, "the feeling in favour of the lay administration of the

Sacrament became very strong and very general: a Conference was applied for, was constituted, and, after

some discussion, it was determined that the request should be granted." Such folly could have been uttered

only by a person profoundly ignorant of the history of Methodism. Certainly nothing of the sort was ever

uttered by me; and nothing of the sort will be found either in The Times or in the Unitarian report.

Mr Vizetelly makes me say that the Great Charter recognises the principle of limitation, a thing which

everybody who has read the Great Charter knows not to be true. He makes me give an utterly false history of

Lord Nottingham's Occasional Conformity Bill. But I will not weary my readers by proceeding further. These

samples will probably be thought sufficient. They all lie within a compass of seven or eight pages. It will be

observed that all the faults which I have pointed out are grave faults of substance. Slighter faults of substance

are numerous. As to faults of syntax and of style, hardly one sentence in a hundred is free from them.

I cannot permit myself to be exhibited, in this ridiculous and degrading manner, for the profit of an

unprincipled man. I therefore unwillingly, and in mere selfdefence, give this volume to the public. I have

selected, to the best of my judgment, from among my speeches, those which are the least unworthy to be

preserved. Nine of them were corrected by me while they were still fresh in my memory, and appear almost

word for word as they were spoken. They are the speech of the second of March 1831, the speech of the

twentieth of September 1831, the speech of the tenth of October 1831, the speech of the sixteenth of

December 1831, the speech on the Anatomy Bill, the speech on the India Bill, the speech on Serjeant

Talfourd's Copyright Bill, the speech on the Sugar Duties, and the speech on the Irish Church. The substance

of the remaining speeches I have given with perfect ingenuousness. I have not made alterations for the

purpose of saving my own reputation either for consistency or for foresight. I have not softened down the

strong terms in which I formerly expressed opinions which time and thought may have modified; nor have I

retouched my predictions in order to make them correspond with subsequent events. Had I represented

myself as speaking in 1831, in 1840, or in 1845, as I should speak in 1853, I should have deprived my book

of its chief value. This volume is now at least a strictly honest record of opinions and reasonings which were

heard with favour by a large part of the Commons of England at some important conjunctures; and such a

record, however low it may stand in the estimation of the literary critic, cannot but be of use to the historian.

I do not pretend to give with accuracy the diction of those speeches which I did not myself correct within a

week after they were delivered. Many expressions, and a few paragraphs, linger in my memory. But the rest,

including much that had been carefully premeditated, is irrecoverably lost. Nor have I, in this part of my task,

derived much assistance from any report. My delivery is, I believe, too rapid. Very able shorthand writers

have sometimes complained that they could not follow me, and have contented themselves with setting down

the substance of what I said. As I am unable to recall the precise words which I used, I have done my best to

I have only, in conclusion, to beg that the readers of this Preface will pardon an egotism which a great wrong

has made necessary, and which is quite as disagreeable to myself as it can be to them.

On Tuesday, the first of March, 1831, Lord John Russell moved the House of Commons for leave to bring in

a bill to amend the representation of the people in England and Wales. The discussion occupied seven nights.

At length, on the morning of Thursday, the tenth of March, the motion was carried without a division. The

It is a circumstance, Sir, of happy augury for the motion before the House, that almost all those who have

opposed it have declared themselves hostile on principle to Parliamentary Reform. Two Members, I think,

have confessed that, though they disapprove of the plan now submitted to us, they are forced to admit the

necessity of a change in the Representative system. Yet even those gentleman have used, as far as I have

observed, no arguments which would not apply as strongly to the most moderate change as to that which has

been proposed by His Majesty's Government. I say, Sir, that I consider this as a circumstance of happy

augury. For what I feared was, not the opposition of those who are averse to all Reform, but the disunion of

reformers. I knew that, during three months, every reformer had been employed in conjecturing what the plan

of the Government would be. I knew that every reformer had imagined in his own mind a scheme differing

doubtless in some points from that which my noble friend, the Paymaster of the Forces, has developed. I felt

therefore great apprehension that one person would be dissatisfied with one part of the bill, that another

person would be dissatisfied with another part, and that thus our whole strength would be wasted in internal

dissensions. That apprehension is now at an end. I have seen with delight the perfect concord which prevails

among all who deserve the name of reformers in this House; and I trust that I may consider it as an omen of

the concord which will prevail among reformers throughout the country. I will not, Sir, at present express any

opinion as to the details of the bill; but, having during the last twenty four hours given the most diligent

consideration to its general principles, I have no hesitation in pronouncing it a wise, noble, and

comprehensive measure, skilfully framed for the healing of great distempers, for the securing at once of the

public liberties, and of the public repose, and for the reconciling and knitting together of all the orders of the

The honourable Baronet who has just sat down (Sir John Walsh.), has told us, that the Ministers have

attempted to unite two inconsistent principles in one abortive measure. Those were his very words. He thinks,

if I understand him rightly, that we ought either to leave the representative system such as it is, or to make it

perfectly symmetrical. I think, Sir, that the Ministers would have acted unwisely if they had taken either

course. Their principle is plain, rational, and consistent. It is this, to admit the middle class to a large and

direct share in the representation, without any violent shock to the institutions of our country. I understand

those cheers: but surely the gentlemen who utter them will allow that the change which will be made in our

institutions by this bill is far less violent than that which, according to the honourable Baronet, ought to be

made if we make any Reform at all. I praise the Ministers for not attempting, at the present time, to make the

representation uniform. I praise them for not effacing the old distinction between the towns and the counties,

and for not assigning Members to districts, according to the American practice, by the Rule of Three. The

Government has, in my opinion, done all that was necessary for the removing of a great practical evil, and no

I consider this, Sir, as a practical question. I rest my opinion on no general theory of government. I distrust all

general theories of government. I will not positively say, that there is any form of polity which may not, in

some conceivable circumstances, be the best possible. I believe that there are societies in which every man

may safely be admitted to vote. Gentlemen may cheer, but such is my opinion. I say, Sir, that there are

countries in which the condition of the labouring classes is such that they may safely be intrusted with the

right of electing Members of the Legislature. If the labourers of England were in that state in which I, from

my soul, wish to see them, if employment were always plentiful, wages always high, food always cheap, if a

large family were considered not as an encumbrance but as a blessing, the principal objections to Universal

Suffrage would, I think, be removed. Universal Suffrage exists in the United States, without producing any

very frightful consequences; and I do not believe that the people of those States, or of any part of the world,

are in any good quality naturally superior to our own countrymen. But, unhappily, the labouring classes in

England, and in all old countries, are occasionally in a state of great distress. Some of the causes of this

distress are, I fear, beyond the control of the Government. We know what effect distress produces, even on

people more intelligent than the great body of the labouring classes can possibly be. We know that it makes

even wise men irritable, unreasonable, credulous, eager for immediate relief, heedless of remote

consequences. There is no quackery in medicine, religion, or politics, which may not impose even on a

powerful mind, when that mind has been disordered by pain or fear. It is therefore no reflection on the poorer

class of Englishmen, who are not, and who cannot in the nature of things be, highly educated, to say that

distress produces on them its natural effects, those effects which it would produce on the Americans, or on

any other people, that it blinds their judgment, that it inflames their passions, that it makes them prone to

believe those who flatter them, and to distrust those who would serve them. For the sake, therefore, of the

whole society, for the sake of the labouring classes themselves, I hold it to be clearly expedient that, in a

country like this, the right of suffrage should depend on a pecuniary qualification.

But, Sir, every argument which would induce me to oppose Universal Suffrage, induces me to support the

plan which is now before us. I am opposed to Universal Suffrage, because I think that it would produce a

destructive revolution. I support this plan, because I am sure that it is our best security against a revolution.

The noble Paymaster of the Forces hinted, delicately indeed and remotely, at this subject. He spoke of the

danger of disappointing the expectations of the nation; and for this he was charged with threatening the

House. Sir, in the year 1817, the late Lord Londonderry proposed a suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. On

that occasion he told the House that, unless the measures which he recommended were adopted, the public

peace could not be preserved. Was he accused of threatening the House? Again, in the year 1819, he

proposed the laws known by the name of the Six Acts. He then told the House that, unless the executive

power were reinforced, all the institutions of the country would be overturned by popular violence. Was he

then accused of threatening the House? Will any gentleman say that it is parliamentary and decorous to urge

the danger arising from popular discontent as an argument for severity; but that it is unparliamentary and

indecorous to urge that same danger as an argument for conciliation? I, Sir, do entertain great apprehension

for the fate of my country. I do in my conscience believe that, unless the plan proposed, or some similar plan,

be speedily adopted, great and terrible calamities will befall us. Entertaining this opinion, I think myself

bound to state it, not as a threat, but as a reason. I support this bill because it will improve our institutions; but

I support it also because it tends to preserve them. That we may exclude those whom it is necessary to

exclude, we must admit those whom it may be safe to admit. At present we oppose the schemes of

revolutionists with only one half, with only one quarter of our proper force. We say, and we say justly, that it

is not by mere numbers, but by property and intelligence, that the nation ought to be governed. Yet, saying

this, we exclude from all share in the government great masses of property and intelligence, great numbers of

those who are most interested in preserving tranquillity, and who know best how to preserve it. We do more.

We drive over to the side of revolution those whom we shut out from power. Is this a time when the cause of

My noble friend, the Paymaster of the Forces, happily described the effect which some parts of our

representative system would produce on the mind of a foreigner, who had heard much of our freedom and

greatness. If, Sir, I wished to make such a foreigner clearly understand what I consider as the great defects of

our system, I would conduct him through that immense city which lies to the north of Great Russell Street

and Oxford Street, a city superior in size and in population to the capitals of many mighty kingdoms; and

probably superior in opulence, intelligence, and general respectability, to any city in the world. I would

conduct him through that interminable succession of streets and squares, all consisting of well built and well

furnished houses. I would make him observe the brilliancy of the shops, and the crowd of wellappointed

equipages. I would show him that magnificent circle of palaces which surrounds the Regent's Park. I would

tell him that the rental of this district was far greater than that of the whole kingdom of Scotland, at the time

of the Union. And then I would tell him that this was an unrepresented district. It is needless to give any more

instances. It is needless to speak of Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, with no representation, or of

Edinburgh and Glasgow with a mock representation. If a property tax were now imposed on the principle that

no person who had less than a hundred and fifty pounds a year should contribute, I should not be surprised to

find that one half in number and value of the contributors had no votes at all; and it would, beyond all doubt,

be found that one fiftieth part in number and value of the contributors had a larger share of the representation

than the other fortynine fiftieths. This is not government by property. It is government by certain detached

portions and fragments of property, selected from the rest, and preferred to the rest, on no rational principle

To say that such a system is ancient, is no defence. My honourable friend, the Member for the University of

Oxford (Sir Robert Harry Inglis.), challenges us to show that the Constitution was ever better than it is. Sir,

we are legislators, not antiquaries. The question for us is, not whether the Constitution was better formerly,

but whether we can make it better now. In fact, however, the system was not in ancient times by any means

so absurd as it is in our age. One noble Lord (Lord Stormont.) has tonight told us that the town of

Aldborough, which he represents, was not larger in the time of Edward the First than it is at present. The line

of its walls, he assures us, may still be traced. It is now built up to that line. He argues, therefore, that as the

founders of our representative institutions gave members to Aldborough when it was as small as it now is,

those who would disfranchise it on account of its smallness have no right to say that they are recurring to the

original principle of our representative institutions. But does the noble Lord remember the change which has

taken place in the country during the last five centuries? Does he remember how much England has grown in

population, while Aldborough has been standing still? Does he consider, that in the time of Edward the First,

the kingdom did not contain two millions of inhabitants? It now contains nearly fourteen millions. A hamlet

of the present day would have been a town of some importance in the time of our early Parliaments.

Aldborough may be absolutely as considerable a place as ever. But compared with the kingdom, it is much

less considerable, by the noble Lord's own showing, than when it first elected burgesses. My honourable

friend, the Member for the University of Oxford, has collected numerous instances of the tyranny which the

kings and nobles anciently exercised, both over this House and over the electors. It is not strange that, in

times when nothing was held sacred, the rights of the people, and of the representatives of the people, should

not have been held sacred. The proceedings which my honourable friend has mentioned, no more prove that,

by the ancient constitution of the realm, this House ought to be a tool of the king and of the aristocracy, than

the Benevolences and the Shipmoney prove their own legality, or than those unjustifiable arrests which took

place long after the ratification of the great Charter and even after the Petition of Right, prove that the subject

was not anciently entitled to his personal liberty. We talk of the wisdom of our ancestors: and in one respect

at least they were wiser than we. They legislated for their own times. They looked at the England which was

before them. They did not think it necessary to give twice as many Members to York as they gave to London,

because York had been the capital of Britain in the time of Constantius Chlorus; and they would have been

amazed indeed if they had foreseen, that a city of more than a hundred thousand inhabitants would be left

without Representatives in the nineteenth century, merely because it stood on ground which in the thirteenth

century had been occupied by a few huts. They framed a representative system, which, though not without

defects and irregularities, was well adapted to the state of England in their time. But a great revolution took

place. The character of the old corporations changed. New forms of property came into existence. New

portions of society rose into importance. There were in our rural districts rich cultivators, who were not

freeholders. There were in our capital rich traders, who were not liverymen. Towns shrank into villages.

Villages swelled into cities larger than the London of the Plantagenets. Unhappily while the natural growth of

society went on, the artificial polity continued unchanged. The ancient form of the representation remained;

and precisely because the form remained, the spirit departed. Then came that pressure almost to bursting, the

new wine in the old bottles, the new society under the old institutions. It is now time for us to pay a decent, a

rational, a manly reverence to our ancestors, not by superstitiously adhering to what they, in other

circumstances, did, but by doing what they, in our circumstances, would have done. All history is full of

revolutions, produced by causes similar to those which are now operating in England. A portion of the

community which had been of no account expands and becomes strong. It demands a place in the system,

suited, not to its former weakness, but to its present power. If this is granted, all is well. If this is refused, then

comes the struggle between the young energy of one class and the ancient privileges of another. Such was the

struggle between the Plebeians and the Patricians of Rome. Such was the struggle of the Italian allies for

admission to the full rights of Roman citizens. Such was the struggle of our North American colonies against

the mother country. Such was the struggle which the Third Estate of France maintained against the

aristocracy of birth. Such was the struggle which the Roman Catholics of Ireland maintained against the

aristocracy of creed. Such is the struggle which the free people of colour in Jamaica are now maintaining

against the aristocracy of skin. Such, finally, is the struggle which the middle classes in England are

maintaining against an aristocracy of mere locality, against an aristocracy the principle of which is to invest a

hundred drunken potwallopers in one place, or the owner of a ruined hovel in another, with powers which are

withheld from cities renowned to the furthest ends of the earth, for the marvels of their wealth and of their

But these great cities, says my honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford, are virtually,

though not directly, represented. Are not the wishes of Manchester, he asks, as much consulted as those of

any town which sends Members to Parliament? Now, Sir, I do not understand how a power which is salutary

when exercised virtually can be noxious when exercised directly. If the wishes of Manchester have as much

weight with us as they would have under a system which should give Representatives to Manchester, how

can there be any danger in giving Representatives to Manchester? A virtual Representative is, I presume, a

man who acts as a direct Representative would act: for surely it would be absurd to say that a man virtually

represents the people of Manchester, who is in the habit of saying No, when a man directly representing the

people of Manchester would say Aye. The utmost that can be expected from virtual Representation is that it

may be as good as direct Representation. If so, why not grant direct Representation to places which, as

If it be said that there is an evil in change as change, I answer that there is also an evil in discontent as

discontent. This, indeed, is the strongest part of our case. It is said that the system works well. I deny it. I

deny that a system works well, which the people regard with aversion. We may say here, that it is a good

system and a perfect system. But if any man were to say so to any six hundred and fiftyeight respectable

farmers or shopkeepers, chosen by lot in any part of England, he would be hooted down, and laughed to

scorn. Are these the feelings with which any part of the government ought to be regarded? Above all, are

these the feelings with which the popular branch of the legislature ought to be regarded? It is almost as

essential to the utility of a House of Commons, that it should possess the confidence of the people, as that it

should deserve that confidence. Unfortunately, that which is in theory the popular part of our government, is

in practice the unpopular part. Who wishes to dethrone the King? Who wishes to turn the Lords out of their

House? Here and there a crazy radical, whom the boys in the street point at as he walks along. Who wishes to

alter the constitution of this House? The whole people. It is natural that it should be so. The House of

Commons is, in the language of Mr Burke, a check, not on the people, but for the people. While that check is

efficient, there is no reason to fear that the King or the nobles will oppress the people. But if the check

requires checking, how is it to be checked? If the salt shall lose its savour, wherewith shall we season it? The

distrust with which the nation regards this House may be unjust. But what then? Can you remove that

distrust? That it exists cannot be denied. That it is an evil cannot be denied. That it is an increasing evil

cannot be denied. One gentleman tells us that it has been produced by the late events in France and Belgium;

another, that it is the effect of seditious works which have lately been published. If this feeling be of origin so

recent, I have read history to little purpose. Sir, this alarming discontent is not the growth of a day or of a

year. If there be any symptoms by which it is possible to distinguish the chronic diseases of the body politic

from its passing inflammations, all those symptoms exist in the present case. The taint has been gradually

becoming more extensive and more malignant, through the whole lifetime of two generations. We have tried

anodynes. We have tried cruel operations. What are we to try now? Who flatters himself that he can turn this

feeling back? Does there remain any argument which escaped the comprehensive intellect of Mr Burke, or

the subtlety of Mr Windham? Does there remain any species of coercion which was not tried by Mr Pitt and

by Lord Londonderry? We have had laws. We have had blood. New treasons have been created. The Press

has been shackled. The Habeas Corpus Act has been suspended. Public meetings have been prohibited. The

event has proved that these expedients were mere palliatives. You are at the end of your palliatives. The evil

Under such circumstances, a great plan of reconciliation, prepared by the Ministers of the Crown, has been

brought before us in a manner which gives additional lustre to a noble name, inseparably associated during

two centuries with the dearest liberties of the English people. I will not say, that this plan is in all its details

precisely such as I might wish it to be; but it is founded on a great and a sound principle. It takes away a vast

power from a few. It distributes that power through the great mass of the middle order. Every man, therefore,

who thinks as I think is bound to stand firmly by Ministers who are resolved to stand or fall with this

measure. Were I one of them, I would sooner, infinitely sooner, fall with such a measure than stand by any

My honourable friend, the Member for the University of Oxford, tells us, that if we pass this law, England

will soon be a republic. The reformed House of Commons will, according to him, before it has sate ten years,

depose the King, and expel the Lords from their House. Sir, if my honourable friend could prove this, he

would have succeeded in bringing an argument for democracy, infinitely stronger than any that is to be found

in the works of Paine. My honourable friend's proposition is in fact this: that our monarchical and

aristocratical institutions have no hold on the public mind of England; that these institutions are regarded with

aversion by a decided majority of the middle class. This, Sir, I say, is plainly deducible from his proposition;

for he tells us that the Representatives of the middle class will inevitably abolish royalty and nobility within

ten years: and there is surely no reason to think that the Representatives of the middle class will be more

inclined to a democratic revolution than their constituents. Now, Sir, if I were convinced that the great body

of the middle class in England look with aversion on monarchy and aristocracy, I should be forced, much

against my will, to come to this conclusion, that monarchical and aristocratical institutions are unsuited to my

country. Monarchy and aristocracy, valuable and useful as I think them, are still valuable and useful as

means, and not as ends. The end of government is the happiness of the people: and I do not conceive that, in a

country like this, the happiness of the people can be promoted by a form of government in which the middle

classes place no confidence, and which exists only because the middle classes have no organ by which to

make their sentiments known. But, Sir, I am fully convinced that the middle classes sincerely wish to uphold

the Royal prerogatives and the constitutional rights of the Peers. What facts does my honourable friend

produce in support of his opinion? One fact only; and that a fact which has absolutely nothing to do with the

question. The effect of this Reform, he tells us, would be to make the House of Commons allpowerful. It was

allpowerful once before, in the beginning of 1649. Then it cut off the head of the King, and abolished the

House of Peers. Therefore, if it again has the supreme power, it will act in the same manner. Now, Sir, it was

not the House of Commons that cut off the head of Charles the First; nor was the House of Commons then

allpowerful. It had been greatly reduced in numbers by successive expulsions. It was under the absolute

dominion of the army. A majority of the House was willing to take the terms offered by the King. The

soldiers turned out the majority; and the minority, not a sixth part of the whole House, passed those votes of

which my honourable friend speaks, votes of which the middle classes disapproved then, and of which they

My honourable friend, and almost all the gentlemen who have taken the same side with him in this Debate,

have dwelt much on the utility of close and rotten boroughs. It is by means of such boroughs, they tell us, that

the ablest men have been introduced into Parliament. It is true that many distinguished persons have

represented places of this description. But, Sir, we must judge of a form of government by its general

tendency, not by happy accidents. Every form of government has its happy accidents. Despotism has its

happy accidents. Yet we are not disposed to abolish all constitutional checks, to place an absolute master over

us, and to take our chance whether he may be a Caligula or a Marcus Aurelius. In whatever way the House of

Commons may be chosen, some able men will be chosen in that way who would not be chosen in any other

way. If there were a law that the hundred tallest men in England should be Members of Parliament, there

would probably be some able men among those who would come into the House by virtue of this law. If the

hundred persons whose names stand first in the alphabetical list of the Court Guide were made Members of

Parliament, there would probably be able men among them. We read in ancient history, that a very able king

was elected by the neighing of his horse; but we shall scarcely, I think, adopt this mode of election. In one of

the most celebrated republics of antiquity, Athens, Senators and Magistrates were chosen by lot; and

sometimes the lot fell fortunately. Once, for example, Socrates was in office. A cruel and unjust proposition

was made by a demagogue. Socrates resisted it at the hazard of his own life. There is no event in Grecian

history more interesting than that memorable resistance. Yet who would have officers appointed by lot,

because the accident of the lot may have given to a great and good man a power which he would probably

never have attained in any other way? We must judge, as I said, by the general tendency of a system. No

person can doubt that a House of Commons chosen freely by the middle classes, will contain many very able

men. I do not say, that precisely the same able men who would find their way into the present House of

Commons will find their way into the reformed House: but that is not the question. No particular man is

necessary to the State. We may depend on it that, if we provide the country with popular institutions, those

There is another objection, which, I think, was first raised by the honourable and learned Member for

Newport. (Mr Horace Twiss.) He tells us that the elective franchise is property; that to take it away from a

man who has not been judicially convicted of malpractices is robbery; that no crime is proved against the

voters in the close boroughs; that no crime is even imputed to them in the preamble of the bill; and that

therefore to disfranchise them without compensation would be an act of revolutionary tyranny. The

honourable and learned gentleman has compared the conduct of the present Ministers to that of those odious

tools of power, who, towards the close of the reign of Charles the Second, seized the charters of the Whig

corporations. Now, there was another precedent, which I wonder that he did not recollect, both because it is

much more nearly in point than that to which he referred, and because my noble friend, the Paymaster of the

Forces, had previously alluded to it. If the elective franchise is property, if to disfranchise voters without a

crime proved, or a compensation given, be robbery, was there ever such an act of robbery as the

disfranchising of the Irish forty shilling freeholders? Was any pecuniary compensation given to them? Is it

declared in the preamble of the bill which took away their franchise, that they had been convicted of any

offence? Was any judicial inquiry instituted into their conduct? Were they even accused of any crime? Or if

you say that it was a crime in the electors of Clare to vote for the honourable and learned gentleman who now

represents the county of Waterford, was a Protestant freeholder in Louth to be punished for the crime of a

Catholic freeholder in Clare? If the principle of the honourable and learned Member for Newport be sound,

the franchise of the Irish peasant was property. That franchise the Ministers under whom the honourable and

learned Member held office did not scruple to take away. Will he accuse those Ministers of robbery? If not,

Every gentleman, I think, who has spoken from the other side of the House, has alluded to the opinions which

some of His Majesty's Ministers formerly entertained on the subject of Reform. It would be officious in me,

Sir, to undertake the defence of gentlemen who are so well able to defend themselves. I will only say that, in

my opinion, the country will not think worse either of their capacity or of their patriotism, because they have

shown that they can profit by experience, because they have learned to see the folly of delaying inevitable

changes. There are others who ought to have learned the same lesson. I say, Sir, that there are those who, I

should have thought, must have had enough to last them all their lives of that humiliation which follows

obstinate and boastful resistance to changes rendered necessary by the progress of society, and by the

development of the human mind. Is it possible that those persons can wish again to occupy a position which

can neither be defended nor surrendered with honour? I well remember, Sir, a certain evening in the month of

May, 1827. I had not then the honour of a seat in this House; but I was an attentive observer of its

proceedings. The right honourable Baronet opposite (Sir Robert Peel), of whom personally I desire to speak

with that high respect which I feel for his talents and his character, but of whose public conduct I must speak

with the sincerity required by my public duty, was then, as he is now, out of office. He had just resigned the

seals of the Home Department, because he conceived that the recent ministerial arrangements had been too

favourable to the Catholic claims. He rose to ask whether it was the intention of the new Cabinet to repeal the

Test and Corporation Acts, and to reform the Parliament. He bound up, I well remember, those two questions

together; and he declared that, if the Ministers should either attempt to repeal the Test and Corporation Acts,

or bring forward a measure of Parliamentary Reform, he should think it his duty to oppose them to the

utmost. Since that declaration was made four years have elapsed; and what is now the state of the three

questions which then chiefly agitated the minds of men? What is become of the Test and Corporation Acts?

They are repealed. By whom? By the right honourable Baronet. What has become of the Catholic

disabilities? They are removed. By whom? By the right honourable Baronet. The question of Parliamentary

Reform is still behind. But signs, of which it is impossible to misconceive the import, do most clearly

indicate that unless that question also be speedily settled, property, and order, and all the institutions of this

great monarchy, will be exposed to fearful peril. Is it possible that gentlemen long versed in high political

affairs cannot read these signs? Is it possible that they can really believe that the Representative system of

England, such as it now is, will last to the year 1860? If not, for what would they have us wait? Would they

have us wait merely that we may show to all the world how little we have profited by our own recent

experience?Would they have us wait, that we may once again hit the exact point where we can neither

refuse with authority, nor concede with grace? Would they have us wait, that the numbers of the discontented

party may become larger, its demands higher, its feelings more acrimonious, its organisation more complete?

Would they have us wait till the whole tragicomedy of 1827 has been acted over again? till they have been

brought into office by a cry of 'No Reform,' to be reformers, as they were once before brought into office by a

cry of 'No Popery,' to be emancipators? Have they obliterated from their mindsgladly, perhaps, would

some among them obliterate from their mindsthe transactions of that year? And have they forgotten all the

transactions of the succeeding year? Have they forgotten how the spirit of liberty in Ireland, debarred from its

natural outlet, found a vent by forbidden passages? Have they forgotten how we were forced to indulge the

Catholics in all the license of rebels, merely because we chose to withhold from them the liberties of

subjects? Do they wait for associations more formidable than that of the Corn Exchange, for contributions

larger than the Rent, for agitators more violent than those who, three years ago, divided with the King and the

Parliament the sovereignty of Ireland? Do they wait for that last and most dreadful paroxysm of popular rage,

for that last and most cruel test of military fidelity? Let them wait, if their past experience shall induce them

to think that any high honour or any exquisite pleasure is to be obtained by a policy like this. Let them wait, if

this strange and fearful infatuation be indeed upon them, that they should not see with their eyes, or hear with

their ears, or understand with their heart. But let us know our interest and our duty better. Turn where we

may, within, around, the voice of great events is proclaiming to us, Reform, that you may preserve. Now,

therefore, while everything at home and abroad forebodes ruin to those who persist in a hopeless struggle

against the spirit of the age, now, while the crash of the proudest throne of the Continent is still resounding in

our ears, now, while the roof of a British palace affords an ignominious shelter to the exiled heir of forty

kings, now, while we see on every side ancient institutions subverted, and great societies dissolved, now,

while the heart of England is still sound, now, while old feelings and old associations retain a power and a

charm which may too soon pass away, now, in this your accepted time, now, in this your day of salvation,

take counsel, not of prejudice, not of party spirit, not of the ignominious pride of a fatal consistency, but of

history, of reason, of the ages which are past, of the signs of this most portentous time. Pronounce in a

manner worthy of the expectation with which this great debate has been anticipated, and of the long

remembrance which it will leave behind. Renew the youth of the State. Save property, divided against itself.

Save the multitude, endangered by its own unpopular power. Save the greatest, and fairest, and most highly

civilised community that ever existed, from calamities which may in a few days sweep away all the rich

heritage of so many ages of wisdom and glory. The danger is terrible. The time is short. If this bill should be

rejected, I pray to God that none of those who concur in rejecting it may ever remember their votes with

unavailing remorse, amidst the wreck of laws, the confusion of ranks, the spoliation of property, and the

On Tuesday, the fourth of July, 1831, Lord John Russell moved the second reading of the Bill to amend the

representation of the people in England and Wales. Sir John Walsh, member for Sudbury, moved, as an

amendment, that the bill should be read that day six months. After a discussion, which lasted three nights, the

amendment was rejected by 367 votes to 231, and the original motion was carried. The following Speech was

Nobody, Sir, who has watched the course of the debate can have failed to observe that the gentlemen who

oppose this bill have chiefly relied on a preliminary objection, which it is necessary to clear away before we

proceed to examine whether the proposed changes in our representative system would or would not be

improvements. The elective franchise, we are told, is private property. It belongs to this freeman, to that

potwalloper, to the owner of this house, to the owner of that old wall; and you have no more right to take it

away without compensation than to confiscate the dividends of a fundholder or the rents of a landholder.

Now, Sir, I admit that, if this objection be well founded, it is decisive against the plan of Reform which has

been submitted to us. If the franchise be really private property, we have no more right to take members away

from Gatton because Gatton is small, and to give them to Manchester because Manchester is large, than

Cyrus, in the old story, had to take away the big coat from the little boy and to put it on the big boy. In no

case, and under no pretext however specious, would I take away from any member of the community

anything which is of the nature of property, without giving him full compensation. But I deny that the

elective franchise is of the nature of property; and I believe that, on this point, I have with me all reason, all

precedent, and all authority. This at least is certain, that, if disfranchisement really be robbery, the

representative system which now exists is founded on robbery. How was the franchise in the English counties

fixed? By the act of Henry the Sixth, which disfranchised tens of thousands of electors who had not forty

shilling freeholds. Was that robbery? How was the franchise in the Irish counties fixed? By the act of George

the Fourth, which disfranchised tens of thousands of electors who had not ten pound freeholds. Was that

robbery? Or was the great parliamentary reform made by Oliver Cromwell ever designated as robbery, even

by those who most abhorred his name? Everybody knows that the unsparing manner in which he

disfranchised small boroughs was emulously applauded, by royalists, who hated him for having pulled down

one dynasty, and by republicans, who hated him for having founded another. Take Sir Harry Vane and Lord

Clarendon, both wise men, both, I believe, in the main, honest men, but as much opposed to each other in

politics as wise and honest men could be. Both detested Oliver; yet both approved of Oliver's plan of

parliamentary reform. They grieved only that so salutary a change should have been made by an usurper.

Vane wished it to have been made by the Rump; Clarendon wished it to be made by the King. Clarendon's

language on this subject is most remarkable. For he was no rash innovator. The bias of his mind was

altogether on the side of antiquity and prescription. Yet he describes that great disfranchisement of boroughs

as an improvement fit to be made in a more warrantable method and at a better time. This is that better time.

What Cromwell attempted to effect by an usurped authority, in a country which had lately been convulsed by

civil war, and which was with difficulty kept in a state of sullen tranquillity by military force, it has fallen to

our lot to accomplish in profound peace, and under the rule of a prince whose title is unquestioned, whose

office is reverenced, and whose person is beloved. It is easy to conceive with what scorn and astonishment

Clarendon would have heard it said that the reform which seemed to him so obviously just and reasonable

that he praised it, even when made by a regicide, could not, without the grossest iniquity, be made even by a

Sir, in the name of the institution of property, of that great institution, for the sake of which, chiefly, all other

institutions exist, of that great institution to which we owe all knowledge, all commerce, all industry, all

civilisation, all that makes us to differ from the tattooed savages of the Pacific Ocean, I protest against the

pernicious practice of ascribing to that which is not property the sanctity which belongs to property alone. If,

in order to save political abuses from that fate with which they are threatened by the public hatred, you claim

for them the immunities of property, you must expect that property will be regarded with some portion of the

hatred which is excited by political abuses. You bind up two very different things, in the hope that they may

stand together. Take heed that they do not fall together. You tell the people that it is as unjust to disfranchise

a great lord's nomination borough as to confiscate his estate. Take heed that you do not succeed in convincing

weak and ignorant minds that there is no more injustice in confiscating his estate than in disfranchising his

borough. That this is no imaginary danger, your own speeches in this debate abundantly prove. You begin by

ascribing to the franchises of Old Sarum the sacredness of property; and you end, naturally enough, I must

own, by treating the rights of property as lightly as I should be inclined to treat the franchises of Old Sarum.

When you are reminded that you voted, only two years ago, for disfranchising great numbers of freeholders

in Ireland, and when you are asked how, on the principles which you now profess, you can justify that vote,

you answer very coolly, "no doubt that was confiscation. No doubt we took away from the peasants of

Munster and Connaught, without giving them a farthing of compensation, that which was as much their

property as their pigs or their frieze coats. But we did it for the public good. We were pressed by a great State

necessity." Sir, if that be an answer, we too may plead that we too have the public good in view, and that we

are pressed by a great State necessity. But I shall resort to no such plea. It fills me with indignation and alarm

to hear grave men avow what they own to be downright robbery, and justify that robbery on the ground of

political convenience. No, Sir, there is one way, and only one way, in which those gentlemen who voted for

the disfranchising Act of 1829 can clear their fame. Either they have no defence, or their defence must be

this; that the elective franchise is not of the nature of property, and that therefore disfranchisement is not

Having disposed, as I think, of the question of right, I come to the question of expediency. I listened, Sir, with

much interest and pleasure to a noble Lord who spoke for the first time in this debate. (Lord Porchester.) But

I must own that he did not succeed in convincing me that there is any real ground for the fears by which he is

tormented. He gave us a history of France since the Restoration. He told us of the violent ebbs and flows of

public feeling in that country. He told us that the revolutionary party was fast rising to ascendency while M.

De Cazes was minister; that then came a violent reaction in favour of the monarchy and the priesthood; that

then the revolutionary party again became dominant; that there had been a change of dynasty; and that the

Chamber of Peers had ceased to be a hereditary body. He then predicted, if I understood him rightly, that, if

we pass this bill, we shall suffer all that France has suffered; that we shall have violent contests between

extreme parties, a revolution, and an abolition of the House of Lords. I might, perhaps, dispute the accuracy

of some parts of the noble Lord's narrative. But I deny that his narrative, accurate or inaccurate, is relevant. I

deny that there is any analogy between the state of France and the state of England. I deny that there is here

any great party which answers either to the revolutionary or to the counterrevolutionary party in France. I

most emphatically deny that there is any resemblance in the character, and that there is likely to be any

resemblance in the fate, of the two Houses of Peers. I always regarded the hereditary Chamber established by

Louis the Eighteenth as an institution which could not last. It was not in harmony with the state of property; it

was not in harmony with the public feeling; it had neither the strength which is derived from wealth, nor the

strength which is derived from prescription. It was despised as plebeian by the ancient nobility. It was hated

as patrician by the democrats. It belonged neither to the old France nor to the new France. It was a mere

exotic transplanted from our island. Here it had struck its roots deep, and having stood during ages, was still

green and vigorous. But it languished in the foreign soil and the foreign air, and was blown down by the first

With much more force, at least with much more plausibility, the noble Lord and several other members on

the other side of the House have argued against the proposed Reform on the ground that the existing system

has worked well. How great a country, they say, is ours! How eminent in wealth and knowledge, in arts and

arms! How much admired! How much envied! Is it possible to believe that we have become what we are

under a bad government! And, if we have a good government, why alter it? Now, Sir, I am very far from

denying that England is great, and prosperous, and highly civilised. I am equally far from denying that she

owes much of her greatness, of her prosperity, and of her civilisation to her form of government. But is no

nation ever to reform its institutions because it has made great progress under those institutions? Why, Sir,

the progress is the very thing which makes the reform absolutely necessary. The Czar Peter, we all know, did

much for Russia. But for his rude genius and energy, that country might have still been utterly barbarous. Yet

would it be reasonable to say that the Russian people ought always, to the end of time, to be despotically

governed, because the Czar Peter was a despot? Let us remember that the government and the society act and

react on each other. Sometimes the government is in advance of the society, and hurries the society forward.

So urged, the society gains on the government, comes up with the government, outstrips the government, and

begins to insist that the government shall make more speed. If the government is wise, it will yield to that just

and natural demand. The great cause of revolutions is this, that while nations move onward, constitutions

stand still. The peculiar happiness of England is that here, through many generations, the constitution has

moved onward with the nation. Gentlemen have told us, that the most illustrious foreigners have, in every

age, spoken with admiration of the English constitution. Comines, they say, in the fifteenth century, extolled

the English constitution as the best in the world. Montesquieu, in the eighteenth century, extolled it as the

best in the world. And would it not be madness in us to throw away what such men thought the most precious

of all our blessings? But was the constitution which Montesquieu praised the same with the constitution

which Comines praised? No, Sir; if it had been so, Montesquieu never would have praised it. For how was it

possible that a polity which exactly suited the subjects of Edward the Fourth should have exactly suited the

subjects of George the Second? The English have, it is true, long been a great and a happy people. But they

have been great and happy because their history has been the history of a succession of timely reforms. The

Great Charter, the assembling of the first House of Commons, the Petition of Right, the Declaration of Right,

the Bill which is now on our table, what are they all but steps in one great progress? To every one of those

steps the same objections might have been made which we heard tonight, "You are better off than your

neighbours are. You are better off than your fathers were. Why can you not leave well alone?"

How copiously might a Jacobite orator have harangued on this topic in the Convention of 1688! "Why make

a change of dynasty? Why trouble ourselves to devise new securities for our laws and liberties? See what a

nation we are. See how population and wealth have increased since what you call the good old times of

Queen Elizabeth. You cannot deny that the country has been more prosperous under the kings of the House of

Stuart than under any of their predecessors. Keep that House, then, and be thankful." Just such is the

reasoning of the opponents of this bill. They tell us that we are an ungrateful people, and that, under

institutions from which we have derived inestimable benefits, we are more discontented than the slaves of the

Dey of Tripoli. Sir, if we had been slaves of the Dey of Tripoli, we should have been too much sunk in

intellectual and moral degradation to be capable of the rational and manly discontent of freemen. It is

precisely because our institutions are so good that we are not perfectly contended with them; for they have

educated us into a capacity for enjoying still better institutions. That the English Government has generally

been in advance of almost all other governments is true. But it is equally true that the English nation is, and

has during some time been, in advance of the English Government. One plain proof of this is, that nothing is

so ill made in our island as the laws. In all those things which depend on the intelligence, the knowledge, the

industry, the energy of individuals, or of voluntary combinations of individuals, this country stands

preeminent among all the countries of the world, ancient and modern. But in those things which it belongs

to the State to direct, we have no such claim to superiority. Our fields are cultivated with a skill unknown

elsewhere, with a skill which has extorted rich harvests from moors and morasses. Our houses are filled with

conveniences which the kings of former times might have envied. Our bridges, our canals, our roads, our

modes of communication, fill every stranger with wonder. Nowhere are manufactures carried to such

perfection. Nowhere is so vast a mass of mechanical power collected. Nowhere does man exercise such a

dominion over matter. These are the works of the nation. Compare them with the works of the rulers of the

nation. Look at the criminal law, at the civil law, at the modes of conveying lands, at the modes of conducting

actions. It is by these things that we must judge of our legislators, just as we judge of our manufacturers by

the cotton goods and the cutlery which they produce, just as we judge of our engineers by the suspension

bridges, the tunnels, the steam carriages which they construct. Is, then, the machinery by which justice is

administered framed with the same exquisite skill which is found in other kinds of machinery? Can there be a

stronger contrast than that which exists between the beauty, the completeness, the speed, the precision with

which every process is performed in our factories, and the awkwardness, the rudeness, the slowness, the

uncertainty of the apparatus by which offences are punished and rights vindicated? Look at the series of penal

statutes, the most bloody and the most inefficient in the world, at the puerile fictions which make every

declaration and every plea unintelligible both to plaintiff and defendant, at the mummery of fines and

recoveries, at the chaos of precedents, at the bottomless pit of Chancery. Surely we see the barbarism of the

thirteenth century and the highest civilisation of the nineteenth century side by side; and we see that the

This is a state of things which cannot last. If it be not terminated by wisdom, it will be terminated by

violence. A time has come at which it is not merely desirable, but indispensable to the public safety, that the

government should be brought into harmony with the people; and it is because this bill seems to me likely to

bring the government into harmony with the people, that I feel it to be my duty to give my hearty support to

We have been told, indeed, that this is not the plan of Reform which the nation asked for. Be it so. But you

cannot deny that it is the plan of Reform which the nation has accepted. That, though differing in many

respects from what was asked, it has been accepted with transports of joy and gratitude, is a decisive proof of

the wisdom of timely concession. Never in the history of the world was there so signal an example of that

true statesmanship, which, at once animating and gently curbing the honest enthusiasm of millions, guides it

safely and steadily to a happy goal. It is not strange, that when men are refused what is reasonable, they

should demand what is unreasonable. It is not strange that, when they find that their opinion is contemned

and neglected by the Legislature, they should lend a too favourable ear to worthless agitators. We have seen

how discontent may be produced. We have seen, too, how it may be appeased. We have seen that the true

source of the power of demagogues is the obstinacy of rulers, and that a liberal Government makes a

conservative people. Early in the last session, the First Minister of the Crown declared that he would consent

to no Reform; that he thought our representative system, just as it stood, the masterpiece of human wisdom;

that, if he had to make it anew, he would make it such as it was, with all its represented ruins and all its

unrepresented cities. What followed? Everything was tumult and panic. The funds fell. The streets were

insecure. Men's hearts failed them for fear. We began to move our property into German investments and

American investments. Such was the state of the public mind, that it was not thought safe to let the Sovereign

pass from his palace to the Guildhall of his capital. What part of his kingdom is there in which His Majesty

now needs any other guard than the affection of his loving subjects? There are, indeed, still malecontents; and

they may be divided into two classes, the friends of corruption and the sowers of sedition. It is natural that all

who directly profit by abuses, and all who profit by the disaffection which abuses excite, should be leagued

together against a bill which, by making the government pure, will make the nation loyal. There is, and

always has been, a real alliance between the two extreme parties in this country. They play into each other's

hands. They live by each other. Neither would have any influence if the other were taken away. The

demagogue would have no audience but for the indignation excited among the multitude by the insolence of

the enemies of Reform: and the last hope of the enemies of Reform is in the uneasiness excited among all

who have anything to lose by the ravings of the demagogue. I see, and glad I am to see, that the nation

perfectly understands and justly appreciates this coalition between those who hate all liberty and those who

hate all order. England has spoken, and spoken out. From her most opulent seaports, from her manufacturing

towns, from her capital and its gigantic suburbs, from almost every one of her counties, has gone forth a

voice, answering in no doubtful or faltering accent to that truly royal voice which appealed on the

So clearly, indeed, has the sense of the nation been expressed, that scarcely any person now ventures to

declare himself hostile to all Reform. We are, it seems, a House of Reformers. Those very gentlemen who, a

few months ago, were vehement against all change, now own that some change may be proper, may be

necessary. They assure us that their opposition is directed, not against Parliamentary Reform, but against the

particular plan which is now before us, and that a Tory Ministry would devise a much better plan. I cannot

but think that these tactics are unskilful. I cannot but think that, when our opponents defended the existing

system in every part, they occupied a stronger position than at present. As my noble friend the Paymaster

General said, they have committed an error resembling that of the Scotch army at Dunbar. They have left the

high ground from which we might have had some difficulty in dislodging them. They have come down to

low ground, where they are at our mercy. Surely, as Cromwell said, surely the Lord hath delivered them into

For, Sir, it is impossible not to perceive that almost every argument which they have urged against this

Reform Bill may be urged with equal force, or with greater force, against any Reform Bill which they can

First take, what, indeed, are not arguments, but wretched substitutes for arguments, those vague terms of

reproach, which have been so largely employed, here and elsewhere, by our opponents; revolutionary,

anarchical, traitorous, and so forth. It will, I apprehend, hardly be disputed that these epithets can be just as

But, you say, intimidation has been used to promote the passing of this bill; and it would be disgraceful, and

of evil example, that Parliament should yield to intimidation. But surely, if that argument be of any force

against the present bill, it will be of tenfold force against any Reform Bill proposed by you. For this bill is the

work of men who are Reformers from conscientious conviction, of men, some of whom were Reformers

when Reformer was a name of reproach, of men, all of whom were Reformers before the nation had begun to

demand Reform in imperative and menacing tones. But you are notoriously Reformers merely from fear. You

are Reformers under duress. If a concession is to be made to the public importunity, you can hardly deny that

Then you complain of the anomalies of the bill. One county, you say, will have twelve members; and another

county, which is larger and more populous, will have only ten. Some towns, which are to have only one

member, are more considerable than other towns which are to have two. Do those who make these objections,

objections which by the by will be more in place when the bill is in committee, seriously mean to say that a

Tory Reform Bill will leave no anomalies in the representative system? For my own part, I trouble myself not

at all about anomalies, considered merely as anomalies. I would not take the trouble of lifting up my hand to

get rid of an anomaly that was not also a grievance. But if gentlemen have such a horror of anomalies, it is

strange that they should so long have persisted in upholding a system made up of anomalies far greater than

any that can be found in this bill (a cry of "No!"). Yes; far greater. Answer me, if you can; but do not

interrupt me. On this point, indeed, it is much easier to interrupt than to answer. For who can answer plain

arithmetical demonstration? Under the present system, Manchester, with two hundred thousand inhabitants,

has no members. Old Sarum, with no inhabitants, has two members. Find me such an anomaly in the

schedules which are now on the table. But is it possible that you, that Tories, can seriously mean to adopt the

only plan which can remove all anomalies from the representative system? Are you prepared to have, after

every decennial census, a new distribution of members among electoral districts? Is your plan of Reform that

which Mr Canning satirised as the most crazy of all the projects of the disciples of Tom Paine? Do you really

"That each fair burgh, numerically free, Shall choose its members by the rule of three?"

But your great objection to this bill is that it will not be final. I ask you whether you think that any Reform

Bill which you can frame will be final? For my part I do believe that the settlement proposed by His

Majesty's Ministers will be final, in the only sense in which a wise man ever uses that word. I believe that it

will last during that time for which alone we ought at present to think of legislating. Another generation may

find in the new representative system defects such as we find in the old representative system. Civilisation

will proceed. Wealth will increase. Industry and trade will find out new seats. The same causes which have

turned so many villages into great towns, which have turned so many thousands of square miles of fir and

heath into cornfields and orchards, will continue to operate. Who can say that a hundred years hence there

may not be, on the shore of some desolate and silent bay in the Hebrides, another Liverpool, with its docks

and warehouses and endless forests of masts? Who can say that the huge chimneys of another Manchester

may not rise in the wilds of Connemara? For our children we do not pretend to legislate. All that we can do

for them is to leave to them a memorable example of the manner in which great reforms ought to be made. In

the only sense, therefore, in which a statesman ought to say that anything is final, I pronounce this bill final.

But in what sense will your bill be final? Suppose that you could defeat the Ministers, that you could displace

them, that you could form a Government, that you could obtain a majority in this House, what course would

events take? There is no difficulty in foreseeing the stages of the rapid progress downward. First we should

have a mock reform; a Bassietlaw reform; a reform worthy of those politicians who, when a delinquent

borough had forfeited its franchise, and when it was necessary for them to determine what they would do

with two seats in Parliament, deliberately gave those seats, not to Manchester or Birmingham or Leeds, not to

Lancashire or Staffordshire or Devonshire, but to a constituent body studiously selected because it was not

large and because it was not independent; a reform worthy of those politicians who, only twelve months ago,

refused to give members to the three greatest manufacturing towns in the world. We should have a reform

which would produce all the evils and none of the benefits of change, which would take away from the

representative system the foundation of prescription, and yet would not substitute the surer foundation of

reason and public good. The people would be at once emboldened and exasperated; emboldened because they

would see that they had frightened the Tories into making a pretence of reforming the Parliament; and

exasperated because they would see that the Tory Reform was a mere pretence. Then would come agitation,

tumult, political associations, libels, inflammatory harangues. Coercion would only aggravate the evil. This is

no age, this is no country, for the war of power against opinion. Those Jacobin mountebanks, whom this bill

would at once send back to their native obscurity, would rise into fearful importance. The law would be

sometimes braved and sometimes evaded. In short, England would soon be what Ireland was at the beginning

of 1829. Then, at length, as in 1829, would come the late and vain repentance. Then, Sir, amidst the generous

cheers of the Whigs, who will be again occupying their old seats on your left hand, and amidst the indignant

murmurs of those stanch Tories who are now again trusting to be again betrayed, the right honourable

Baronet opposite will rise from the Treasury Bench to propose that bill on which the hearts of the people are

set. But will that bill be then accepted with the delight and thankfulness with which it was received last

March? Remember Ireland. Remember how, in that country, concessions too long delayed were at last

received. That great boon which in 1801, in 1813, in 1825, would have won the hearts of millions, given too

late, and given from fear, only produced new clamours and new dangers. Is not one such lesson enough for

one generation? A noble Lord opposite told us not to expect that this bill will have a conciliatory effect.

Recollect, he said, how the French aristocracy surrendered their privileges in 1789, and how that surrender

was requited. Recollect that Day of Sacrifices which was afterwards called the Day of Dupes. Sir, that day

was afterwards called the Day of Dupes, not because it was the Day of Sacrifices, but because it was the Day

of Sacrifices too long deferred. It was because the French aristocracy resisted reform in 1783, that they were

unable to resist revolution in 1789. It was because they clung too long to odious exemptions and distinctions,

that they were at last unable to serve their lands, their mansions, their heads. They would not endure Turgot:

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 preeminently 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

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

twentysecond of September the House divided; and the Bill passed by 345 votes to 236. The following

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

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

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 beargarden, 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 isthe expression, I fear, is awkwardan 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

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

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 coexist 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

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

"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

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

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

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

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 taxgatherer 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 selfconstituted 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

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 cooperation 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. The Constitution of England, thank God, is not one of those

constitutions which are past all repair, and which must, for the public welfare, be utterly destroyed. It has a

decayed part; but it has also a sound and precious part. It requires purification; but it contains within itself the

means by which that purification may be effected. We read that in old times, when the villeins were driven to

revolt by oppression, when the castles of the nobility were burned to the ground, when the warehouses of

London were pillaged, when a hundred thousand insurgents appeared in arms on Blackheath, when a foul

murder perpetrated in their presence had raised their passions to madness, when they were looking round for

some captain to succeed and avenge him whom they had lost, just then, before Hob Miller, or Tom Carter, or

Jack Straw, could place himself at their head, the King rode up to them and exclaimed, "I will be your

leader!" and at once the infuriated multitude laid down their arms, submitted to his guidance, dispersed at his

command. Herein let us imitate him. Our countrymen are, I fear, at this moment, but too much disposed to

lend a credulous ear to selfish impostors. Let us say to them, "We are your leaders; we, your own house of

Commons; we, the constitutional interpreters of your wishes; the knights of forty English shires, the citizens

and burgesses of all your largest towns. Our lawful power shall be firmly exerted to the utmost in your cause;

and our lawful power is such, that when firmly exerted in your cause, it must finally prevail." This tone it is

our interest and our duty to take. The circumstances admit of no delay. Is there one among us who is not

looking with breathless anxiety for the next tidings which may arrive from the remote parts of the kingdom?

Even while I speak, the moments are passing away, the irrevocable moments pregnant with the destiny of a

great people. The country is in danger: it may be saved: we can save it: this is the way: this is the time. In our

hands are the issues of great good and great evil, the issues of the life and death of the State. May the result of

our deliberations be the repose and prosperity of that noble country which is entitled to all our love; and for

the safety of which we are answerable to our own consciences, to the memory of future ages, to the Judge of

On Friday, the sixteenth of December 1831, Lord Althorpe moved the second reading of the Bill to amend

the representation of the people in England and Wales. Lord Porchester moved, as an amendment, that the

bill should be read a second time that day six months. The debate lasted till after midnight, and was then

adjourned till twelve at noon. The House did not divide till one on the Sunday morning. The amendment was

then rejected by 324 votes to 162; and the original motion was carried. The following Speech was made on

I can assure my noble friend (Lord Mahon.), for whom I entertain sentiments of respect and kindness which

no political difference will, I trust, ever disturb, that his remarks have given me no pain, except, indeed, the

pain which I feel at being compelled to say a few words about myself. Those words shall be very few. I know

how unpopular egotism is in this House. My noble friend says that, in the debates of last March, I declared

myself opposed to the ballot, and that I have since recanted, for the purpose of making myself popular with

the inhabitants of Leeds. My noble friend is altogether mistaken. I never said, in any debate, that I was

opposed to the ballot. The word ballot never passed my lips within this House. I observed strict silence

respecting it on two accounts; in the first place, because my own opinions were, till very lately, undecided; in

the second place, because I knew that the agitation of that question, a question of which the importance

appears to me to be greatly overrated, would divide those on whose firm and cordial union the safety of the

empire depends. My noble friend has taken this opportunity of replying to a speech which I made last

October. The doctrines which I then laid down were, according to him, most intemperate and dangerous.

Now, Sir, it happens, curiously enough, that my noble friend has himself asserted, in his speech of this night,

those very doctrines, in language so nearly resembling mine that I might fairly accuse him of plagiarism. I

said that laws have no force in themselves, and that, unless supported by public opinion, they are a mere dead

letter. The noble Lord has said exactly the same thing tonight. "Keep your old Constitution," he exclaims;

"for, whatever may be its defects in theory, it has more of the public veneration than your new Constitution

will have; and no laws can be efficient, unless they have the public veneration." I said, that statutes are in

themselves only wax and parchment; and I was called an incendiary by the opposition. The noble Lord has

said tonight that statutes in themselves are only ink and parchment; and those very persons who reviled me

have enthusiastically cheered him. I am quite at a loss to understand how doctrines which are, in his mouth,

But, Sir, it is time that I should address myself to the momentous question before us. I shall certainly give my

best support to this bill, through all its stages; and, in so doing, I conceive that I shall act in strict conformity

with the resolution by which this House, towards the close of the late Session, declared its unabated

attachment to the principles and to the leading provisions of the First Reform Bill. All those principles, all

those leading provisions, I find in the present measure. In the details there are, undoubtedly, considerable

alterations. Most of the alterations appear to me to be improvements; and even those alterations which I

cannot consider as in themselves improvements will yet be most useful, if their effect shall be to conciliate

opponents, and to facilitate the adjustment of a question which, for the sake of order, for the sake of peace,

for the sake of trade, ought to be, not only satisfactorily, but speedily settled. We have been told, Sir, that, if

we pronounce this bill to be a better bill than the last, we recant all the doctrines which we maintained during

the last Session, we sing our palinode; we allow that we have had a great escape; we allow that our own

conduct was deserving of censure; we allow that the party which was the minority in this House, and, most

unhappily for the country, the majority in the other House, has saved the country from a great calamity. Sir,

even if this charge were well founded, there are those who should have been prevented by prudence, if not by

magnanimity, from bringing it forward. I remember an Opposition which took a very different course. I

remember an Opposition which, while excluded from power, taught all its doctrines to the Government;

which, after labouring long, and sacrificing much, in order to effect improvements in various parts of our

political and commercial system, saw the honour of those improvements appropriated by others. But the

members of that Opposition had, I believe, a sincere desire to promote the public good. They, therefore,

raised no shout of triumph over the recantations of their proselytes. They rejoiced, but with no ungenerous

joy, when their principles of trade, of jurisprudence, of foreign policy, of religious liberty, became the

principles of the Administration. They were content that he who came into fellowship with them at the

eleventh hour should have a far larger share of the reward than those who had borne the burthen and heat of

the day. In the year 1828, a single division in this House changed the whole policy of the Government with

respect to the Test and Corporation Acts. My noble friend, the Paymaster of the Forces, then sat where the

right honourable Baronet, the member for Tamworth, now sits. I do not remember that, when the right

honourable Baronet announced his change of purpose, my noble friend sprang up to talk about palinodes, to

magnify the wisdom and virtue of the Whigs, and to sneer at his new coadjutors. Indeed, I am not sure that

the members of the late Opposition did not carry their indulgence too far; that they did not too easily suffer

the fame of Grattan and Romilly to be transferred to less deserving claimants; that they were not too ready, in

the joy with which they welcomed the tardy and convenient repentance of their converts, to grant a general

amnesty for the errors of the insincerity of years. If it were true that we had recanted, this ought not to be

made matter of charge against us by men whom posterity will remember by nothing but recantations. But, in

truth, we recant nothing. We have nothing to recant. We support this bill. We may possibly think it a better

bill than that which preceded it. But are we therefore bound to admit that we were in the wrong, that the

Opposition was in the right, that the House of Lords has conferred a great benefit on the nation? We

sawwho did not see?great defects in the first bill. But did we see nothing else? Is delay no evil? Is

prolonged excitement no evil? Is it no evil that the heart of a great people should be made sick by deferred

hope? We allow that many of the changes which have been made are improvements. But we think that it

would have been far better for the country to have had the last bill, with all its defects, than the present bill,

with all its improvements. Second thoughts are proverbially the best, but there are emergencies which do not

admit of second thoughts. There probably never was a law which might not have been amended by delay. But

there have been many cases in which there would have been more mischief in the delay than benefit in the

amendments. The first bill, however inferior it may have been in its details to the present bill, was yet herein

far superior to the present bill, than it was the first. If the first bill had passed, it would, I firmly believe, have

produced a complete reconciliation between the aristocracy and the people. It is my earnest wish and prayer

that the present bill may produce this blessed effect; but I cannot say that my hopes are so sanguine as they

were at the beginning of the last Session. The decision of the House of Lords has, I fear, excited in the public

mind feelings of resentment which will not soon be allayed. What then, it is said, would you legislate in

haste? Would you legislate in times of great excitement concerning matters of such deep concern? Yes, Sir, I

would: and if any bad consequences should follow from the haste and the excitement, let those be held

answerable who, when there was no need of haste, when there existed no excitement, refused to listen to any

project of Reform, nay, who made it an argument against Reform, that the public mind was not excited.

When few meetings were held, when few petitions were sent up to us, these politicians said, "Would you alter

a Constitution with which the people are perfectly satisfied?" And now, when the kingdom from one end to

the other is convulsed by the question of Reform, we hear it said by the very same persons, "Would you alter

the Representative system in such agitated times as these?" Half the logic of misgovernment lies in this one

sophistical dilemma: If the people are turbulent, they are unfit for liberty: if they are quiet, they do not want

I allow that hasty legislation is an evil. I allow that there are great objections to legislating in troubled times.

But reformers are compelled to legislate fast, because bigots will not legislate early. Reformers are compelled

to legislate in times of excitement, because bigots will not legislate in times of tranquillity. If, ten years ago,

nay, if only two years ago, there had been at the head of affairs men who understood the signs of the times

and the temper of the nation, we should not have been forced to hurry now. If we cannot take our time, it is

because we have to make up for their lost time. If they had reformed gradually, we might have reformed

gradually; but we are compelled to move fast, because they would not move at all.

Though I admit, Sir, that this bill is in its details superior to the former bill, I must say that the best parts of

this bill, those parts for the sake of which principally I support it, those parts for the sake of which I would

support it, however imperfect its details might be, are parts which it has in common with the former bill. It

destroys nomination; it admits the great body of the middle orders to a share in the government; and it

contains provisions which will, as I conceive, greatly diminish the expense of elections.

Touching the expense of elections I will say a few words, because that part of the subject has not, I think,

received so much attention as it deserves. Whenever the nomination boroughs are attacked, the opponents of

Reform produce a long list of eminent men who have sate for those boroughs, and who, they tell us, would

never have taken any part in public affairs but for those boroughs. Now, Sir, I suppose no person will

maintain that a large constituent body is likely to prefer ignorant and incapable men to men of information

and ability? Whatever objections there may be to democratic institutions, it was never, I believe, doubted that

those institutions are favourable to the development of talents. We may prefer the constitution of Sparta to

that of Athens, or the constitution of Venice to that of Florence: but no person will deny that Athens produced

more great men than Sparta, or that Florence produced more great men than Venice. But to come nearer

home: the five largest English towns which have now the right of returning two members each by popular

election, are Westminster, Southwark, Liverpool, Bristol, and Norwich. Now let us see what members those

places have sent to Parliament. I will not speak of the living, though among the living are some of the most

distinguished ornaments of the House. I will confine myself to the dead. Among many respectable and useful

members of Parliament, whom these towns have returned, during the last half century, I find Mr Burke, Mr

Fox, Mr Sheridan, Mr Windham, Mr Tierney, Sir Samuel Romilly, Mr Canning, Mr Huskisson. These were

eight of the most illustrious parliamentary leaders of the generation which is passing away from the world.

Mr Pitt was, perhaps, the only person worthy to make a ninth with them. It is, surely, a remarkable

circumstance that, of the nine most distinguished Members of the House of Commons who have died within

the last forty years, eight should have been returned to Parliament by the five largest represented towns. I am,

therefore, warranted in saying that great constituent bodies are quite as competent to discern merit, and quite

as much disposed to reward merit, as the proprietors of boroughs. It is true that some of the distinguished

statesmen whom I have mentioned would never have been known to large constituent bodies if they had not

first sate for nomination boroughs. But why is this? Simply, because the expense of contesting popular

places, under the present system, is ruinously great. A poor man cannot defray it; an untried man cannot

expect his constituents to defray it for him. And this is the way in which our Representative system is

defended. Corruption vouches corruption. Every abuse is made the plea for another abuse. We must have

nomination at Gatton because we have profusion at Liverpool. Sir, these arguments convince me, not that no

Reform is required, but that a very deep and searching Reform is required. If two evils serve in some respects

to counterbalance each other, this is a reason, not for keeping both, but for getting rid of both together. At

present you close against men of talents that broad, that noble entrance which belongs to them, and which

ought to stand wide open to them; and in exchange you open to them a bye entrance, low and narrow, always

obscure, often filthy, through which, too often, they can pass only by crawling on their hands and knees, and

from which they too often emerge sullied with stains never to be washed away. But take the most favourable

case. Suppose that the member who sits for a nomination borough owes his seat to a man of virtue and

honour, to a man whose service is perfect freedom, to a man who would think himself degraded by any proof

of gratitude which might degrade his nominee. Yet is it nothing that such a member comes into this House

wearing the badge, though not feeling the chain of servitude? Is it nothing that he cannot speak of his

independence without exciting a smile? Is it nothing that he is considered, not as a Representative, but as an

adventurer? This is what your system does for men of genius. It admits them to political power, not as, under

better institutions, they would be admitted to power, erect, independent, unsullied; but by means which

corrupt the virtue of many, and in some degree diminish the authority of all. Could any system be devised,

better fitted to pervert the principles and break the spirit of men formed to be the glory of their country? And,

can we mention no instance in which this system has made such men useless, or worse than useless, to the

country of which their talents were the ornament, and might, in happier circumstances, have been the

salvation? Ariel, the beautiful and kindly Ariel, doing the bidding of the loathsome and malignant Sycorax, is

but a faint type of genius enslaved by the spells, and employed in the drudgery of corruption

We cannot do a greater service to men of real merit than by destroying that which has been called their

refuge, which is their house of bondage; by taking from them the patronage of the great, and giving to them

in its stead the respect and confidence of the people. The bill now before us will, I believe, produce that

happy effect. It facilitates the canvass; it reduces the expense of legal agency; it shortens the poll; above all, it

disfranchises the outvoters. It is not easy to calculate the precise extent to which these changes will diminish

the cost of elections. I have attempted, however, to obtain some information on this subject. I have applied to

a gentleman of great experience in affairs of this kind, a gentleman who, at the last three general elections,

managed the finances of the popular party in one of the largest boroughs in the kingdom. He tells me, that at

the general election of 1826, when that borough was contested, the expenses of the popular candidate

amounted to eighteen thousand pounds; and that, by the best estimate which can now be made, the borough

may, under the reformed system, be as effectually contested for one tenth part of that sum. In the new

constituent bodies there are no ancient rights reserved. In those bodies, therefore, the expense of an election

will be still smaller. I firmly believe, that it will be possible to poll out Manchester for less than the market

Sir, I have, from the beginning of these discussions, supported Reform on two grounds; first, because I

believe it to be in itself a good thing; and secondly, because I think the dangers of withholding it so great that,

even if it were an evil, it would be the less of two evils. The dangers of the country have in no wise

diminished. I believe that they have greatly increased. It is, I fear, impossible to deny that what has happened

with respect to almost every great question that ever divided mankind has happened also with respect to the

Reform Bill. Wherever great interests are at stake there will be much excitement; and wherever there is much

excitement there will be some extravagance. The same great stirring of the human mind which produced the

Reformation produced also the follies and crimes of the Anabaptists. The same spirit which resisted the

Shipmoney, and abolished the Star Chamber, produced the Levellers and the Fifth Monarchy men. And so,

it cannot be denied that bad men, availing themselves of the agitation produced by the question of Reform,

have promulgated, and promulgated with some success, doctrines incompatible with the existence, I do not

say of monarchy, or of aristocracy, but of all law, of all order, of all property, of all civilisation, of all that

makes us to differ from Mohawks or Hottentots. I bring no accusation against that portion of the working

classes which has been imposed upon by these doctrines. Those persons are what their situation has made

them, ignorant from want of leisure, irritable from the sense of distress. That they should be deluded by

impudent assertions and gross sophisms; that, suffering cruel privations, they should give ready credence to

promises of relief; that, never having investigated the nature and operation of government, they should expect

impossibilities from it, and should reproach it for not performing impossibilities; all this is perfectly natural.

No errors which they may commit ought ever to make us forget that it is in all probability owing solely to the

accident of our situation that we have not fallen into errors precisely similar. There are few of us who do not

know from experience that, even with all our advantages of education, pain and sorrow can make us very

querulous and very unreasonable. We ought not, therefore, to be surprised that, as the Scotch proverb says, "it

should be ill talking between a full man and a fasting;" that the logic of the rich man who vindicates the rights

of property, should seem very inconclusive to the poor man who hears his children cry for bread. I bring, I

say, no accusation against the working classes. I would withhold from them nothing which it might be for

their good to possess. I see with pleasure that, by the provisions of the Reform Bill, the most industrious and

respectable of our labourers will be admitted to a share in the government of the State. If I would refuse to the

working people that larger share of power which some of them have demanded, I would refuse it, because I

am convinced that, by giving it, I should only increase their distress. I admit that the end of government is

their happiness. But, that they may be governed for their happiness, they must not be governed according to

the doctrines which they have learned from their illiterate, incapable, lowminded flatterers.

But, Sir, the fact that such doctrines have been promulgated among the multitude is a strong argument for a

speedy and effectual reform. That government is attacked is a reason for making the foundations of

government broader, and deeper, and more solid. That property is attacked is a reason for binding together all

proprietors in the firmest union. That the agitation of the question of Reform has enabled worthless

demagogues to propagate their notions with some success is a reason for speedily settling the question in the

only way in which it can be settled. It is difficult, Sir, to conceive any spectacle more alarming than that

which presents itself to us, when we look at the two extreme parties in this country; a narrow oligarchy

above; an infuriated multitude below; on the one side the vices engendered by power; on the other side the

vices engendered by distress; one party blindly averse to improvement; the other party blindly clamouring for

destruction; one party ascribing to political abuses the sanctity of property; the other party crying out against

property as a political abuse. Both these parties are alike ignorant of their true interest. God forbid that the

state should ever be at the mercy of either, or should ever experience the calamities which must result from a

collision between them! I anticipate no such horrible event. For, between those two parties stands a third

party, infinitely more powerful than both the others put together, attacked by both, vilified by both, but

destined, I trust, to save both from the fatal effects of their own folly. To that party I have never ceased,

through all the vicissitudes of public affairs, to look with confidence and with good a hope. I speak of that

great party which zealously and steadily supported the first Reform Bill, and which will, I have no doubt,

support the second Reform Bill with equal steadiness and equal zeal. That party is the middle class of

England, with the flower of the aristocracy at its head, and the flower of the working classes bringing up its

rear. That great party has taken its immovable stand between the enemies of all order and the enemies of all

liberty. It will have Reform: it will not have revolution: it will destroy political abuses: it will not suffer the

rights of property to be assailed: it will preserve, in spite of themselves, those who are assailing it, from the

right and from the left, with contradictory accusations: it will be a daysman between them: it will lay its hand

upon them both: it will not suffer them to tear each other in pieces. While that great party continues

unbroken, as it now is unbroken, I shall not relinquish the hope that this great contest may be conducted, by

lawful means, to a happy termination. But, of this I am assured, that by means, lawful or unlawful, to a

termination, happy or unhappy, this contest must speedily come. All that I know of the history of past times,

all the observations that I have been able to make on the present state of the country, have convinced me that

the time has arrived when a great concession must be made to the democracy of England; that the question,

whether the change be in itself good or bad, has become a question of secondary importance; that, good or

bad, the thing must be done; that a law as strong as the laws of attraction and motion has decreed it.

I well know that history, when we look at it in small portions, may be so construed as to mean anything, that

it may be interpreted in as many ways as a Delphic oracle. "The French Revolution," says one expositor, "was

the effect of concession." "Not so," cries another: "The French Revolution was produced by the obstinacy of

an arbitrary government." "If the French nobles," says the first, "had refused to sit with the Third Estate, they

would never have been driven from their country." "They would never have been driven from their country,"

answers the other, "if they had agreed to the reforms proposed by M. Turgot." These controversies can never

be brought to any decisive test, or to any satisfactory conclusion. But, as I believe that history, when we look

at it in small fragments, proves anything, or nothing, so I believe that it is full of useful and precious

instruction when we contemplate it in large portions, when we take in, at one view, the whole lifetime of

great societies. I believe that it is possible to obtain some insight into the law which regulates the growth of

communities, and some knowledge of the effects which that growth produces. They history of England, in

particular, is the history of a government constantly giving way, sometimes peaceably, sometimes after a

violent struggle, but constantly giving way before a nation which has been constantly advancing. The forest

laws, the laws of villenage, the oppressive power of the Roman Catholic Church, the power, scarcely less

oppressive, which, during some time after the Reformation, was exercised by the Protestant Establishment,

the prerogatives of the Crown, the censorship of the Press, successively yielded. The abuses of the

representative system are now yielding to the same irresistible force. It was impossible for the Stuarts, and it

would have been impossible for them if they had possessed all the energy of Richelieu, and all the craft of

Mazarin, to govern England as England had been governed by the Tudors. It was impossible for the princes

of the House of Hanover to govern England as England had been governed by the Stuarts. And so it is

impossible that England should be any longer governed as it was governed under the four first princes of the

House of Hanover. I say impossible. I believe that over the great changes of the moral world we possess as

little power as over the great changes of the physical world. We can no more prevent time from changing the

distribution of property and of intelligence, we can no more prevent property and intelligence from aspiring

to political power, than we can change the courses of the seasons and of the tides. In peace or in tumult, by

means of old institutions, where those institutions are flexible, over the ruins of old institutions, where those

institutions oppose an unbending resistance, the great march of society proceeds, and must proceed. The

feeble efforts of individuals to bear back are lost and swept away in the mighty rush with which the species

goes onward. Those who appear to lead the movement are, in fact, only whirled along before it; those who

It is because rulers do not pay sufficient attention to the stages of this great movement, because they

underrate its force, because they are ignorant of its law, that so many violent and fearful revolutions have

changed the face of society. We have heard it said a hundred times during these discussions, we have heard it

said repeatedly in the course of this very debate, that the people of England are more free than ever they

were, that the Government is more democratic than ever it was; and this is urged as an argument against

Reform. I admit the fact; but I deny the inference. It is a principle never to be forgotten, in discussions like

this, that it is not by absolute, but by relative misgovernment that nations are roused to madness. It is not

sufficient to look merely at the form of government. We must look also to the state of the public mind. The

worst tyrant that ever had his neck wrung in modern Europe might have passed for a paragon of clemency in

Persia or Morocco. Our Indian subjects submit patiently to a monopoly of salt. We tried a stamp duty, a duty

so light as to be scarcely perceptible, on the fierce breed of the old Puritans; and we lost an empire. The

Government of Louis the Sixteenth was certainly a much better and milder Government than that of Louis the

Fourteenth; yet Louis the Fourteenth was admired, and even loved, by his people. Louis the Sixteenth died on

the scaffold. Why? Because, though the Government had made many steps in the career of improvement, it

had not advanced so rapidly as the nation. Look at our own history. The liberties of the people were at least as

much respected by Charles the First as by Henry the Eighth, by James the Second as by Edward the Sixth.

But did this save the crown of James the Second? Did this save the head of Charles the First? Every person

who knows the history of our civil dissensions knows that all those arguments which are now employed by

the opponents of the Reform Bill might have been employed, and were actually employed, by the unfortunate

Stuarts. The reasoning of Charles, and of all his apologists, runs thus: "What new grievance does the

nation suffer? What has the King done more than what Henry did? more than what Elizabeth did? Did the

people ever enjoy more freedom than at present? Did they ever enjoy so much freedom?" But what would a

wise and honest counsellor, if Charles had been so happy as to possess such a counsellor, have replied to

arguments like these? He would have said, "Sir, I acknowledge that the people were never more free than

under your government. I acknowledge that those who talk of restoring the old Constitution of England use

an improper expression. I acknowledge that there has been a constant improvement during those very years

during which many persons imagine that there has been a constant deterioration. But, though there has been

no change in the government for the worse, there has been a change in the public mind which produces

exactly the same effect which would be produced by a change in the government for the worse. Perhaps this

change in the public mind is to be regretted. But no matter; you cannot reverse it. You cannot undo all that

eighty eventful years have done. You cannot transform the Englishmen of 1640 into the Englishmen of 1560.

It may be that the simple loyalty of our fathers was preferable to that inquiring, censuring, resisting spirit

which is now abroad. It may be that the times when men paid their benevolences cheerfully were better times

than these, when a gentleman goes before the Exchequer Chamber to resist an assessment of twenty shillings.

And so it may be that infancy is a happier time than manhood, and manhood than old age. But God has

decreed that old age shall succeed to manhood, and manhood to infancy. Even so have societies their law of

growth. As their strength becomes greater, as their experience becomes more extensive, you can no longer

confine them within the swaddling bands, or lull them in the cradles, or amuse them with the rattles, or terrify

them with the bugbears of their infancy. I do not say that they are better or happier than they were; but this I

say, that they are different from what they were, that you cannot again make them what they were, and that

you cannot safely treat them as if they continued to be what they were." This was the advice which a wise and

honest Minister would have given to Charles the First. These were the principles on which that unhappy

prince should have acted. But no. He would govern, I do not say ill, I do not say tyrannically; I only say this;

he would govern the men of the seventeenth century as if they had been the men of the sixteenth century; and

therefore it was, that all his talents and all his virtues did not save him from unpopularity, from civil war,

from a prison, from a bar, from a scaffold. These things are written for our instruction. Another great

intellectual revolution has taken place; our lot has been cast on a time analogous, in many respects, to the

time which immediately preceded the meeting of the Long Parliament. There is a change in society. There

must be a corresponding change in the government. We are not, we cannot, in the nature of things, be, what

our fathers were. We are no more like the men of the American war, or the men of the gagging bills, than the

men who cried "privilege" round the coach of Charles the First were like the men who changed their religion

once a year at the bidding of Henry the Eighth. That there is such a change, I can no more doubt than I can

doubt that we have more power looms, more steam engines, more gas lights, than our ancestors. That there is

such a change, the Minister will surely find who shall attempt to fit the yoke of Mr Pitt to the necks of the

Englishmen of the nineteenth century. What then can you do to bring back those times when the constitution

of this House was an object of veneration to the people? Even as much as Strafford and Laud could do to

bring back the days of the Tudors; as much as Bonner and Gardiner could do to bring back the days of

Hildebrand; as much as Villele and Polignac could do to bring back the days of Louis the Fourteenth. You

may make the change tedious; you may make it violent; you mayGod in his mercy forbid!you may

make it bloody; but avert it you cannot. Agitations of the public mind, so deep and so long continued as those

which we have witnessed, do not end in nothing. In peace or in convulsion, by the law, or in spite of the law,

through the Parliament, or over the Parliament, Reform must be carried. Therefore be content to guide that

movement which you cannot stop. Fling wide the gates to that force which else will enter through the breach.

Then will it still be, as it has hitherto been, the peculiar glory of our Constitution that, though not exempt

from the decay which is wrought by the vicissitudes of fortune, and the lapse of time, in all the proudest

works of human power and wisdom, it yet contains within it the means of selfreparation. Then will England

add to her manifold titles of glory this, the noblest and the purest of all; that every blessing which other

nations have been forced to seek, and have too often sought in vain, by means of violent and bloody

On Monday, the twentyseventh of February, 1832, the House took into consideration the report of the

Committee on Mr Warburton's Anatomy Bill. Mr Henry Hunt attacked that bill with great asperity. In reply

Sir, I cannot, even at this late hour of the night, refrain from saying two or three words. Most of the

observations of the honourable Member for Preston I pass by, as undeserving of any answer before an

audience like this. But on one part of his speech I must make a few remarks. We are, he says, making a law to

benefit the rich, at the expense of the poor. Sir, the fact is the direct reverse. This is a bill which tends

especially to the benefit of the poor. What are the evils against which we are attempting to make provision?

Two especially; that is to say, the practice of Burking, and bad surgery. Now to both these the poor alone are

exposed. What man, in our rank of life, runs the smallest risk of being Burked? That a man has property, that

he has connections, that he is likely to be missed and sought for, are circumstances which secure him against

the Burker. It is curious to observe the difference between murders of this kind and other murders. An

ordinary murder hides the body, and disposes of the property. Bishop and Williams dig holes and bury the

property, and expose the body to sale. The more wretched, the more lonely, any human being may be, the

more desirable prey is he to these wretches. It is the man, the mere naked man, that they pursue. Again, as to

bad surgery; this is, of all evils, the evil by which the rich suffer least, and the poor most. If we could do all

that in the opinion of the Member for Preston ought to be done, if we could destroy the English school of

anatomy, if we could force every student of medical science to go to the expense of a foreign education, on

whom would the bad consequences fall? On the rich? Not at all. As long as there is in France, in Italy, in

Germany, a single surgeon of eminent skill, a single surgeon who is, to use the phrase of the member for

Preston, addicted to dissection, that surgeon will be in attendance whenever an English nobleman is to be cut

for the stone. The higher orders in England will always be able to procure the best medical assistance. Who

suffers by the bad state of the Russian school of surgery? The Emperor Nicholas? By no means. The whole

evil falls on the peasantry. If the education of a surgeon should become very extensive, if the fees of surgeons

should consequently rise, if the supply of regular surgeons should diminish, the sufferers would be, not the

rich, but the poor in our country villages, who would again be left to mountebanks, and barbers, and old

women, and charms and quack medicines. The honourable gentleman talks of sacrificing the interests of

humanity to the interests of science, as if this were a question about the squaring of the circle, or the transit of

Venus. This is not a mere question of science: it is not the unprofitable exercise of an ingenious mind: it is a

question between health and sickness, between ease and torment, between life and death. Does the

honourable gentleman know from what cruel sufferings the improvement of surgical science has rescued our

species? I will tell him one story, the first that comes into my head. He may have heard of Leopold, Duke of

Austria, the same who imprisoned our Richard CoeurdeLion. Leopold's horse fell under him, and crushed

his leg. The surgeons said that the limb must be amputated; but none of them knew how to amputate it.

Leopold, in his agony, laid a hatchet on his thigh, and ordered his servant to strike with a mallet. The leg was

cut off, and the Duke died of the gush of blood. Such was the end of that powerful prince. Why, there is not

now a bricklayer who falls from a ladder in England, who cannot obtain surgical assistance, infinitely

superior to that which the sovereign of Austria could command in the twelfth century. I think this a bill which

tends to the good of the people, and which tends especially to the good of the poor. Therefore I support it. If it

is unpopular, I am sorry for it. But I shall cheerfully take my share of its unpopularity. For such, I am

convinced, ought to be the conduct of one whose object it is, not to flatter the people, but to serve them.

On Tuesday, the twentyeighth of February, 1832, in the Committee on the Bill to amend the representation

of the people in England and Wales, the question was put, "That the Tower Hamlets, Middlesex, stand part of

Schedule C." The opponents of the Bill mustered their whole strength on this occasion, and were joined by

some members who had voted with the Government on the second reading. The question was carried,

however, by 316 votes to 236. The following Speech was made in reply to the Marquess of Chandos and Sir

Edward Sugden, who, on very different grounds, objected to any increase in the number of metropolitan

Mr Bernal,I have spoken so often on the question of Parliamentary Reform, that I am very unwilling to

occupy the time of the Committee. But the importance of the amendment proposed by the noble Marquess,

and the peculiar circumstances in which we are placed tonight, make me so anxious that I cannot remain

In this debate, as in every other debate, our first object should be to ascertain on which side the burden of the

proof lies. Now, it seems to me quite clear that the burden of the proof lies on those who support the

amendment. I am entitled to take it for granted that it is right and wise to give representatives to some

wealthy and populous places which have hitherto been unrepresented. To this extent, at least, we all, with

scarcely an exception, now profess ourselves Reformers. There is, indeed, a great party which still objects to

the disfranchising even of the smallest boroughs. But all the most distinguished chiefs of that party have, here

and elsewhere, admitted that the elective franchise ought to be given to some great towns which have risen

into importance since our representative system took its present form. If this be so, on what ground can it be

contended that these metropolitan districts ought not to be represented? Are they inferior in importance to the

other places to which we are all prepared to give members? I use the word importance with perfect

confidence: for, though in our recent debates there has been some dispute as to the standard by which the

importance of towns is to be measured, there is no room for dispute here. Here, take what standard you will,

the result will be the same. Take population: take the rental: take the number of ten pound houses: take the

amount of the assessed taxes: take any test in short: take any number of tests, and combine those tests in any

of the ingenious ways which men of science have suggested: multiply: divide: subtract: add: try squares or

cubes: try square roots or cube roots: you will never be able to find a pretext for excluding these districts

from Schedule C. If, then, it be acknowledged that the franchise ought to be given to important places which

are at present unrepresented, and if it be acknowledged that these districts are in importance not inferior to

any place which is at present unrepresented, you are bound to give us strong reasons for withholding the

The honourable and learned gentleman (Sir E. Sugden.) has tried to give such reasons; and, in doing so, he

has completely refuted the whole speech of the noble Marquess, with whom he means to divide. (The

Marquess of Chandos.) The truth is that the noble Marquess and the honourable and learned gentleman,

though they agree in their votes, do not at all agree in their forebodings or in their ulterior intentions. The

honourable and learned gentleman thinks it dangerous to increase the number of metropolitan voters. The

noble Lord is perfectly willing to increase the number of metropolitan voters, and objects only to any increase

in the number of metropolitan members. "Will you," says the honourable and learned gentleman, "be so rash,

so insane, as to create constituent bodies of twenty or thirty thousand electors?" "Yes," says the noble

Marquess, "and much more than that. I will create constituent bodies of forty thousand, sixty thousand, a

hundred thousand. I will add Marylebone to Westminster. I will add Lambeth to Southwark. I will add

Finsbury and the Tower Hamlets to the City." The noble Marquess, it is clear, is not afraid of the excitement

which may be produced by the polling of immense multitudes. Of what then is he afraid? Simply of eight

members: nay, of six members: for he is willing, he tells us, to add two members to the two who already sit

for Middlesex, and who may be considered as metropolitan members. Are six members, then, so formidable?

I could mention a single peer who now sends more than six members to the House. But, says the noble

Marquess, the members for the metropolitan districts will be called to a strict account by their constituents:

they will be mere delegates: they will be forced to speak, not their own sense, but the sense of the capital. I

will answer for it, Sir, that they will not be called to a stricter account than those gentlemen who are

nominated by some great proprietors of boroughs. Is it not notorious that those who represent it as in the

highest degree pernicious and degrading that a public man should be called to account by a great city which

has intrusted its dearest interests to his care, do nevertheless think that he is bound by the most sacred ties of

honour to vote according to the wishes of his patron or to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds? It is a bad thing, I

fully admit, that a Member of Parliament should be a mere delegate. But it is not worse that he should be the

delegate of a hundred thousand people than of one too powerful individual. What a perverse, what an

inconsistent spirit is this; too proud to bend to the wishes of a nation, yet ready to lick the dust at the feet of a

patron! And how is it proved that a member for Lambeth or Finsbury will be under a more servile awe of his

constituents than a member for Leicester, or a member for Leicestershire, or a member for the University of

Oxford? Is it not perfectly notorious that many members voted, year after year, against Catholic

Emancipation, simply because they knew that, if they voted otherwise, they would lose their seats? No doubt

this is an evil. But it is an evil which will exist in some form or other as long as human nature is the same, as

long as there are men so lowminded as to prefer the gratification of a vulgar ambition to the approbation of

their conscience and the welfare of their country. Construct your representative system as you will, these men

will always be sycophants. If you give power to Marylebone, they will fawn on the householders of

Marylebone. If you leave power to Gatton, they will fawn on the proprietor of Gatton. I can see no reason for

believing that their baseness will be more mischievous in the former case than in the latter.

But, it is said, the power of this huge capital is even now dangerously great; and will you increase that

power? Now, Sir, I am far from denying that the power of London is, in some sense, dangerously great; but I

altogether deny that the danger will be increased by this bill. It has always been found that a hundred

thousand people congregated close to the seat of government exercise a greater influence on public affairs

than five hundred thousand dispersed over a remote province. But this influence is not proportioned to the

number of representatives chosen by the capital. This influence is felt at present, though the greater part of

the capital is unrepresented. This influence is felt in countries where there is no representative system at all.

Indeed, this influence is nowhere so great as under despotic governments. I need not remind the Committee

that the Caesars, while ruling by the sword, while putting to death without a trial every senator, every

magistrate, who incurred their displeasure, yet found it necessary to keep the populace of the imperial city in

good humour by distributions of corn and shows of wild beasts. Every country, from Britain to Egypt, was

squeezed for the means of filling the granaries and adorning the theatres of Rome. On more than one

occasion, long after the Cortes of Castile had become a mere name, the rabble of Madrid assembled before

the royal palace, forced their King, their absolute King, to appear in the balcony, and exacted from him a

promise that he would dismiss an obnoxious minister. It was in this way that Charles the Second was forced

to part with Oropesa, and that Charles the Third was forced to part with Squillaci. If there is any country in

the world where pure despotism exists, that country is Turkey; and yet there is no country in the world where

the inhabitants of the capital are so much dreaded by the government. The Sultan, who stands in awe of

nothing else, stands in awe of the turbulent populace, which may, at any moment, besiege him in his Seraglio.

As soon as Constantinople is up, everything is conceded. The unpopular edict is recalled. The unpopular

vizier is beheaded. This sort of power has nothing to do with representation. It depends on physical force and

on vicinity. You do not propose to take this sort of power away from London. Indeed, you cannot take it

away. Nothing can take it away but an earthquake more terrible than that of Lisbon, or a fire more destructive

than that of 1666. Law can do nothing against this description of power; for it is a power which is formidable

only when law has ceased to exist. While the reign of law continues, eight votes in a House of six hundred

and fiftyeight Members will hardly do much harm. When the reign of law is at an end, and the reign of

violence commences, the importance of a million and a half of people, all collected within a walk of the

Palace, of the Parliament House, of the Bank, of the Courts of Justice, will not be measured by eight or by

eighty votes. See, then, what you are doing. That power which is not dangerous you refuse to London. That

power which is dangerous you leave undiminished; nay, you make it more dangerous still. For by refusing to

let eight or nine hundred thousand people express their opinions and wishes in a legal and constitutional way,

you increase the risk of disaffection and of tumult. It is not necessary to have recourse to the speeches or

writings of democrats to show that a represented district is far more likely to be turbulent than an

unrepresented district. Mr Burke, surely not a rash innovator, not a flatterer of the multitude, described long

ago in this place with admirable eloquence the effect produced by the law which gave representative

institutions to the rebellious mountaineers of Wales. That law, he said, had been to an agitated nation what

the twin stars celebrated by Horace were to a stormy sea; the wind had fallen; the clouds had dispersed; the

threatening waves had sunk to rest. I have mentioned the commotions of Madrid and Constantinople. Why is

it that the population of unrepresented London, though physically far more powerful than the population of

Madrid or of Constantinople, has been far more peaceable? Why have we never seen the inhabitants of the

metropolis besiege St James's, or force their way riotously into this House? Why, but because they have other

means of giving vent to their feelings, because they enjoy the liberty of unlicensed printing, and the liberty of

holding public meetings. Just as the people of unrepresented London are more orderly than the people of

Constantinople and Madrid, so will the people of represented London be more orderly than the people of

Surely, Sir, nothing can be more absurd than to withhold legal power from a portion of the community

because that portion of the community possesses natural power. Yet that is precisely what the noble Marquess

would have us do. In all ages a chief cause of the intestine disorders of states has been that the natural

distribution of power and the legal distribution of power have not corresponded with each other. This is no

newly discovered truth. It was well known to Aristotle more than two thousand years ago. It is illustrated by

every part of ancient and of modern history, and eminently by the history of England during the last few

months. Our country has been in serious danger; and why? Because a representative system, framed to suit

the England of the thirteenth century, did not suit the England of the nineteenth century; because an old wall,

the last relique of a departed city, retained the privileges of that city, while great towns, celebrated all over

the world for wealth and intelligence, had no more share in the government than when they were still

hamlets. The object of this bill is to correct those monstrous disproportions, and to bring the legal order of

society into something like harmony with the natural order. What, then, can be more inconsistent with the

fundamental principle of the bill than to exclude any district from a share in the representation, for no reason

but because that district is, and must always be, one of great importance? This bill was meant to reconcile and

unite. Will you frame it in such a manner that it must inevitably produce irritation and discord? This bill was

meant to be final in the only rational sense of the word final. Will you frame it in such a way that it must

inevitably be shortlived? Is it to be the first business of the first reformed House of Commons to pass a new

Reform Bill? Gentlemen opposite have often predicted that the settlement which we are making will not be

permanent; and they are now taking the surest way to accomplish their own prediction. I agree with them in

disliking change merely as change. I would bear with many things which are indefensible in theory, nay, with

some things which are grievous in practice, rather than venture on a change in the composition of Parliament.

But when such a change is necessary,and that such a change is now necessary is admitted by men of all

parties,then I hold that it ought to be full and effectual. A great crisis may be followed by the complete

restoration of health. But no constitution will bear perpetual tampering. If the noble Marquess's amendment

should unhappily be carried, it is morally certain that the immense population of Finsbury, of Marylebone, of

Lambeth, of the Tower Hamlets, will, importunately and clamorously, demand redress from the reformed

Parliament. That Parliament, you tell us, will be much more democratically inclined than the Parliaments of

past times. If so, how can you expect that it will resist the urgent demands of a million of people close to its

door? These eight seats will be given. More than eight seats will be given. The whole question of Reform will

be opened again; and the blame will rest on those who will, by mutilating this great law in an essential part,

cause hundreds of thousands who now regard it as a boon to regard it as an outrage.

Sir, our word is pledged. Let us remember the solemn promise which we gave to the nation last October at a

perilous conjuncture. That promise was that we would stand firmly by the principles and leading provisions

of the Reform Bill. Our sincerity is now brought to the test. One of the leading provisions of the bill is in

danger. The question is, not merely whether these districts shall be represented, but whether we will keep the

faith which we plighted to our countrymen. Let us be firm. Let us make no concession to those who, having

in vain tried to throw the bill out, are now trying to fritter it away. An attempt has been made to induce the

Irish members to vote against the government. It has been hinted that, perhaps, some of the seats taken from

the metropolis may be given to Ireland. Our Irish friends will, I doubt not, remember that the very persons

who offer this bribe exerted themselves not long ago to raise a cry against the proposition to give additional

members to Belfast, Limerick, Waterford, and Galway. The truth is that our enemies wish only to divide us,

and care not by what means. One day they try to excite jealousy among the English by asserting that the plan

of the government is too favourable to Ireland. Next day they try to bribe the Irish to desert us, by promising

to give something to Ireland at the expense of England. Let us disappoint these cunning men. Let us, from

whatever part of the United Kingdom we come, be true to each other and to the good cause. We have the

confidence of our country. We have justly earned it. For God's sake let us not throw it away. Other occasions

may arise on which honest Reformers may fairly take different sides. But tonight he that is not with us is

On the twentyninth of January 1833, the first Parliament elected under the Reform Act of 1832 met at

Westminster. On the fifth of February, King William the Fourth made a speech from the throne, in which he

expressed his hope that the Houses would entrust him with such powers as might be necessary for

maintaining order in Ireland and for preserving and strengthening the union between that country and Great

Britain. An Address, assuring His Majesty of the concurrence and support of the Commons, was moved by

Lord Ormelie and seconded by Mr John Marshall. Mr O'Connell opposed the Address, and moved, as an

amendment, that the House should resolve itself into a Committee. After a discussion of four nights the

amendment was rejected by 428 votes to 40. On the second night of the debate the following Speech was

Last night, Sir, I thought that it would not be necessary for me to take any part in the present debate: but the

appeal which has this evening been made to me by my honourable friend the Member for Lincoln (Mr

Edward Lytton Bulwer.) has forced me to rise. I will, however, postpone the few words which I have to say

in defence of my own consistency, till I have expressed my opinion on the much more important subject

My honourable friend tells us that we are now called upon to make a choice between two modes of pacifying

Ireland; that the government recommends coercion; that the honourable and learned Member for Dublin (Mr

O'Connell.) recommends redress; and that it is our duty to try the effect of redress before we have recourse to

coercion. The antithesis is framed with all the ingenuity which is characteristic of my honourable friend's

style; but I cannot help thinking that, on this occasion, his ingenuity has imposed on himself, and that he has

not sufficiently considered the meaning of the pointed phrase which he used with so much effect. Redress is

no doubt a very well sounding word. What can be more reasonable than to ask for redress? What more unjust

than to refuse redress? But my honourable friend will perceive, on reflection, that, though he and the

honourable and learned Member for Dublin agree in pronouncing the word redress, they agree in nothing

else. They utter the same sound; but they attach to it two diametrically opposite meanings. The honourable

and learned Member for Dublin means by redress simply the Repeal of the Union. Now, to the Repeal of the

Union my honourable friend the Member for Lincoln is decidedly adverse. When we get at his real meaning,

we find that he is just as unwilling as we are to give the redress which the honourable and learned Member

for Dublin demands. Only a small minority of the House will, I hope, and believe, vote with that honourable

and learned member; but the minority which thinks with him will be very much smaller.

We have, indeed, been told by some gentlemen, who are not themselves repealers, that the question of Repeal

deserves a much more serious consideration than it has yet received. Repeal, they say, is an object on which

millions have, however unwisely, set their hearts; and men who speak in the name of millions are not to be

coughed down or sneered down. That which a suffering nation regards, rightly or wrongly, as the sole cure

for all its distempers, ought not to be treated with levity, but to be the subject of full and solemn debate. All

this, Sir, is most true: but I am surprised that this lecture should have been read to us who sit on your right. It

would, I apprehend, have been with more propriety addressed to a different quarter. Whose fault is it that we

have not yet had, and that there is no prospect of our having, this full and solemn debate? Is it the fault of His

Majesty's Ministers? Have not they framed the Speech which their Royal Master delivered from the throne, in

such a manner as to invite the grave and searching discussion of the question of Repeal? and has not the

invitation been declined? Is it not fresh in our recollection that the honourable and learned Member for

Dublin spoke two hours, perhaps three hours,nobody keeps accurate account of time while he

speaks,but two or three hours without venturing to join issue with us on this subject? In truth, he suffered

judgment to go against him by default. We, on this side of the House, did our best to provoke him to the

conflict. We called on him to maintain here those doctrines which he had proclaimed elsewhere with so much

vehemence, and, I am sorry to be forced to add, with a scurrility unworthy of his parts and eloquence. Never

was a challenge more fairly given: but it was not accepted. The great champion of Repeal would not lift our

glove. He shrank back; he skulked away; not, assuredly, from distrust of his powers, which have never been

more vigorously exerted than in this debate, but evidently from distrust of his cause. I have seldom heard so

able a speech as his: I certainly never heard a speech so evasive. From the beginning to the end he studiously

avoided saying a single word tending to raise a discussion about that Repeal which, in other places, he

constantly affirms to be the sole panacea for all the evils by which his country is afflicted. Nor is this all.

Yesterday night he placed on our orderbook not less than fourteen notices; and of those notices not a single

one had any reference to the Union between Great Britain and Ireland. It is therefore evident to me, not only

that the honourable and learned gentleman is not now prepared to debate the question in this House, but that

he has no intention of debating it in this House at all. He keeps it, and prudently keeps it, for audiences of a

very different kind. I am therefore, I repeat, surprised to hear the Government accused of avoiding the

discussion of this subject. Why should we avoid a battle in which the bold and skilful captain of the enemy

One gentleman, though not a repealer, has begged us not to declare ourselves decidedly adverse to repeal till

we have studied the petitions which are coming in from Ireland. Really, Sir, this is not a subject on which any

public man ought to be now making up his mind. My mind is made up. My reasons are such as, I am certain,

no petition from Ireland will confute. Those reasons have long been ready to be produced; and, since we are

accused of flinching, I will at once produce them. I am prepared to show that the Repeal of the Union would

not remove the political and social evils which afflict Ireland, nay, that it would aggravate almost every one

I understand, though I do not approve, the proceedings of poor Wolfe Tone and his confederates. They

wished to make a complete separation between Great Britain and Ireland. They wished to establish a

Hibernian republic. Their plan was a very bad one; but, to do them justice, it was perfectly consistent; and an

ingenious man might defend it by some plausible arguments. But that is not the plan of the honourable and

learned Member for Dublin. He assures us that he wishes the connection between the islands to be perpetual.

He is for a complete separation between the two Parliaments; but he is for indissoluble union between the two

Crowns. Nor does the honourable and learned gentleman mean, by an union between the Crowns, such an

union as exists between the Crown of this kingdom and the Crown of Hanover. For I need not say that,

though the same person is king of Great Britain and of Hanover, there is no more political connection

between Great Britain and Hanover than between Great Britain and Hesse, or between Great Britain and

Bavaria. Hanover may be at peace with a state with which Great Britain is at war. Nay, Hanover may, as a

member of the Germanic body, send a contingent of troops to cross bayonets with the King's English

footguards. This is not the relation in which the honourable and learned gentleman proposes that Great

Britain and Ireland should stand to each other. His plan is, that each of the two countries shall have an

independent legislature, but that both shall have the same executive government. Now, is it possible that a

mind so acute and so well informed as his should not at once perceive that this plan involves an absurdity, a

downright contradiction. Two independent legislatures! One executive government! How can the thing be?

No doubt, if the legislative power were quite distinct from the executive power, England and Ireland might as

easily have two legislatures as two Chancellors and two Courts of King's Bench. But though, in books written

by theorists, the executive power and the legislative power may be treated as things quite distinct, every man

acquainted with the real working of our constitution knows that the two powers are most closely connected,

nay, intermingled with each other. During several generations, the whole administration of affairs has been

conducted in conformity with the sense of Parliament. About every exercise of the prerogative of the Crown

it is the privilege of Parliament to offer advice; and that advice no wise king will ever slight. It is the

prerogative of the Sovereign to choose his own servants; but it is impossible for him to maintain them in

office unless Parliament will support them. It is the prerogative of the Sovereign to treat with other princes;

but it is impossible for him to persist in any scheme of foreign policy which is disagreeable to Parliament. It

is the prerogative of the Sovereign to make war; but he cannot raise a battalion or man a frigate without the

help of Parliament. The repealers may therefore be refuted out of their own mouths. They say that Great

Britain and Ireland ought to have one executive power. But the legislature has a most important share of the

executive power. Therefore, by the confession of the repealers themselves, Great Britain and Ireland ought to

Consider for one moment in what a situation the executive government will be placed if you have two

independent legislatures, and if those legislatures should differ, as all bodies which are independent of each

other will sometimes differ. Suppose the case of a commercial treaty which is unpopular in England and

popular in Ireland. The Irish Parliament expresses its approbation of the terms, and passes a vote of thanks to

the negotiator. We at Westminster censure the terms and impeach the negotiator. Or are we to have two

foreign offices, one in Downing Street and one in Dublin Castle? Is His Majesty to send to every court in

Christendom two diplomatic agents, to thwart each other, and to be spies upon each other? It is inconceivable

but that, in a very few years, disputes such as can be terminated only by arms must arise between

communities so absurdly united and so absurdly disunited. All history confirms this reasoning. Superficial

observers have fancied that they had found cases on the other side. But as soon as you examine those cases

you will see either that they bear no analogy to the case with which we have to deal, or that they corroborate

my argument. The case of Ireland herself has been cited. Ireland, it has been said, had an independent

legislature from 1782 to 1800: during eighteen years there were two coequal parliaments under one Crown;

and yet there was no collision. Sir, the reason that there was not perpetual collision was, as we all know, that

the Irish parliament, though nominally independent, was generally kept in real dependence by means of the

foulest corruption that ever existed in any assembly. But it is not true that there was no collision. Before the

Irish legislature had been six years independent, a collision did take place, a collision such as might well have

produced a civil war. In the year 1788, George the Third was incapacitated by illness from discharging his

regal functions. According to the constitution, the duty of making provision for the discharge of those

functions devolved on the parliaments of Great Britain and Ireland. Between the government of Great Britain

and the government of Ireland there was, during the interregnum, no connection whatever. The sovereign

who was the common head of both governments had virtually ceased to exist: and the two legislatures were

no more to each other than this House and the Chamber of Deputies at Paris. What followed? The Parliament

of Great Britain resolved to offer the Regency to the Prince of Wales under many important restrictions. The

Parliament of Ireland made him an offer of the Regency without any restrictions whatever. By the same right

by which the Irish Lords and Commons made that offer, they might, if Mr Pitt's doctrine be the constitutional

doctrine, as I believe it to be, have made the Duke of York or the Duke of Leinster Regent. To this Regent

they might have given all the prerogatives of the King. Suppose,no extravagant supposition,that George

the Third had not recovered, that the rest of his long life had been passed in seclusion, Great Britain and

Ireland would then have been, during thirtytwo years, as completely separated as Great Britain and Spain.

There would have been nothing in common between the governments, neither executive power nor legislative

power. It is plain, therefore, that a total separation between the two islands might, in the natural course of

things, and without the smallest violation of the constitution on either side, be the effect of the arrangement

recommended by the honourable and learned gentleman, who solemnly declares that he should consider such

No doubt, Sir, in several continental kingdoms there have been two legislatures, and indeed more than two

legislatures, under the same Crown. But the explanation is simple. Those legislatures were of no real weight

in the government. Under Louis the Fourteenth Brittany had its States; Burgundy had its States; and yet there

was no collision between the States of Brittany and the States of Burgundy. But why? Because neither the

States of Brittany nor the States of Burgundy imposed any real restraint on the arbitrary power of the

monarch. So, in the dominions of the House of Hapsburg, there is the semblance of a legislature in Hungary

and the semblance of a legislature in the Tyrol: but all the real power is with the Emperor. I do not say that

you cannot have one executive power and two mock parliaments, two parliaments which merely transact

parish business, two parliaments which exercise no more influence on great affairs of state than the vestry of

St Pancras or the vestry of Marylebone. What I do say, and what common sense teaches, and what all history

teaches, is this, that you cannot have one executive power and two real parliaments, two parliaments

possessing such powers as the parliament of this country has possessed ever since the Revolution, two

parliaments to the deliberate sense of which the Sovereign must conform. If they differ, how can he conform

It is impossible for me to believe that considerations so obvious and so important should not have occurred to

the honourable and learned Member for Dublin. Doubtless they have occurred to him; and therefore it is that

he shrinks from arguing the question here. Nay, even when he harangues more credulous assemblies on the

subject, he carefully avoids precise explanations; and the hints which sometimes escape him are not easily to

be reconciled with each other. On one occasion, if the newspapers are to be trusted, he declared that his

object was to establish a federal union between Great Britain and Ireland. A local parliament, it seems, is to

sit at Dublin, and to send deputies to an imperial parliament which is to sit at Westminster. The honourable

and learned gentleman thinks, I suppose, that in this way he evades the difficulties which I have pointed out.

But he deceives himself. If, indeed, his local legislature is to be subject to his imperial legislature, if his local

legislature is to be merely what the Assembly of Antigua or Barbadoes is, or what the Irish Parliament was

before 1782, the danger of collision is no doubt removed: but what, on the honourable and learned

gentleman's own principles, would Ireland gain by such an arrangement? If, on the other hand, his local

legislature is to be for certain purposes independent, you have again the risk of collision. Suppose that a

difference of opinion should arise between the Imperial Parliament and the Irish Parliament as to the limits of

their powers, who is to decide between them? A dispute between the House of Commons and the House of

Lords is bad enough. Yet in that case, the Sovereign can, by a high exercise of his prerogative, produce

harmony. He can send us back to our constituents; and, if that expedient fails, he can create more lords.

When, in 1705, the dispute between the Houses about the Aylesbury men ran high, Queen Anne restored

concord by dismissing the Parliament. Seven years later she put an end to another conflict between the

Houses by making twelve peers in one day. But who is to arbitrate between two representative bodies chosen

by different constituent bodies? Look at what is now passing in America. Of all federal constitutions that of

the United States is the best. It was framed by a convention which contained many wise and experienced

men, and over which Washington presided. Yet there is a debateable ground on the frontier which separates

the functions of Congress from those of the state legislatures. A dispute as to the exact boundary has lately

arisen. Neither party seems disposed to yield: and, if both persist, there can be no umpire but the sword.

For my part, Sir, I have no hesitation in saying that I should very greatly prefer the total separation which the

honourable and learned gentleman professes to consider as a calamity, to the partial separation which he has

taught his countrymen to regard as a blessing. If, on a fair trial, it be found that Great Britain and Ireland

cannot exist happily together as parts of one empire, in God's name let them separate. I wish to see them

joined as the limbs of a well formed body are joined. In such a body the members assist each other: they are

nourished by the same food: if one member suffer, all suffer with it: if one member rejoice, all rejoice with it.

But I do not wish to see the countries united, like those wretched twins from Siam who were exhibited here a

little while ago, by an unnatural ligament which made each the constant plague of the other, always in each

other's way, more helpless than others because they had twice as many hands, slower than others because

they had twice as many legs, sympathising with each other only in evil, not feeling each other's pleasures, not

supported by each other's aliments, but tormented by each other's infirmities, and certain to perish miserably

Ireland has undoubtedly just causes of complaint. We heard those causes recapitulated last night by the

honourable and learned Member, who tells us that he represents not Dublin alone, but Ireland, and that he

stands between his country and civil war. I do not deny that most of the grievances which he recounted exist,

that they are serious, and that they ought to be remedied as far as it is in the power of legislation to remedy

them. What I do deny is that they were caused by the Union, and that the Repeal of the Union would remove

them. I listened attentively while the honourable and learned gentleman went through that long and

melancholy list: and I am confident that he did not mention a single evil which was not a subject of bitter

complaint while Ireland had a domestic parliament. Is it fair, is it reasonable in the honourable gentleman to

impute to the Union evils which, as he knows better than any other man in this house, existed long before the

Union? Post hoc: ergo, propter hoc is not always sound reasoning. But ante hoc: ergo, non propter hoc is

unanswerable. The old rustic who told Sir Thomas More that Tenterden steeple was the cause of Godwin

sands reasoned much better than the honourable and learned gentleman. For it was not till after Tenterden

steeple was built that the frightful wrecks on the Godwin sands were heard of. But the honourable and learned

gentleman would make Godwin sands the cause of Tenterden steeple. Some of the Irish grievances which he

ascribes to the Union are not only older than the Union, but are not peculiarly Irish. They are common to

England, Scotland, and Ireland; and it was in order to get rid of them that we, for the common benefit of

England, Scotland, and Ireland, passed the Reform Bill last year. Other grievances which the honourable and

learned gentleman mentioned are doubtless local; but is there to be a local legislature wherever there is a

local grievance? Wales has had local grievances. We all remember the complaints which were made a few

years ago about the Welsh judicial system; but did anybody therefore propose that Wales should have a

distinct parliament? Cornwall has some local grievances; but does anybody propose that Cornwall shall have

its own House of Lords and its own House of Commons? Leeds has local grievances. The majority of my

constituents distrust and dislike the municipal government to which they are subject; they therefore call

loudly on us for corporation reform: but they do not ask us for a separate legislature. Of this I am quite sure,

that every argument which has been urged for the purpose of showing that Great Britain and Ireland ought to

have two distinct parliaments may be urged with far greater force for the purpose of showing that the north of

Ireland and the south of Ireland ought to have two distinct parliaments. The House of Commons of the United

Kingdom, it has been said, is chiefly elected by Protestants, and therefore cannot be trusted to legislate for

Catholic Ireland. If this be so, how can an Irish House of Commons, chiefly elected by Catholics, be trusted

to legislate for Protestant Ulster? It is perfectly notorious that theological antipathies are stronger in Ireland

than here. I appeal to the honourable and learned gentleman himself. He has often declared that it is

impossible for a Roman Catholic, whether prosecutor or culprit, to obtain justice from a jury of Orangemen.

It is indeed certain that, in blood, religion, language, habits, character, the population of some of the northern

counties of Ireland has much more in common with the population of England and Scotland than with the

population of Munster and Connaught. I defy the honourable and learned Member, therefore, to find a reason

for having a parliament at Dublin which will not be just as good a reason for having another parliament at

Sir, in showing, as I think I have shown, the absurdity of this cry for Repeal, I have in a great measure

vindicated myself from the charge of inconsistency which has been brought against me by my honourable

friend the Member for Lincoln. It is very easy to bring a volume of Hansard to the House, to read a few

sentences of a speech made in very different circumstances, and to say, "Last year you were for pacifying

England by concession: this year you are for pacifying Ireland by coercion. How can you vindicate your

consistency?" Surely my honourable friend cannot but know that nothing is easier than to write a theme for

severity, for clemency, for order, for liberty, for a contemplative life, for a active life, and so on. It was a

common exercise in the ancient schools of rhetoric to take an abstract question, and to harangue first on one

side and then on the other. The question, Ought popular discontents to be quieted by concession or coercion?

would have been a very good subject for oratory of this kind. There is no lack of commonplaces on either

side. But when we come to the real business of life, the value of these commonplaces depends entirely on the

particular circumstances of the case which we are discussing. Nothing is easier than to write a treatise

proving that it is lawful to resist extreme tyranny. Nothing is easier than to write a treatise setting forth the

wickedness of wantonly bringing on a great society the miseries inseparable from revolution, the bloodshed,

the spoliation, the anarchy. Both treatises may contain much that is true; but neither will enable us to decide

whether a particular insurrection is or is not justifiable without a close examination of the facts. There is

surely no inconsistency in speaking with respect of the memory of Lord Russell and with horror of the crime

of Thistlewood; and, in my opinion, the conduct of Russell and the conduct of Thistlewood did not differ

more widely than the cry for Parliamentary Reform and the cry for the Repeal of the Union. The Reform Bill

I believe to be a blessing to the nation. Repeal I know to be a mere delusion. I know it to be impracticable:

and I know that, if it were practicable, it would be pernicious to every part of the empire, and utterly ruinous

to Ireland. Is it not then absurd to say that, because I wished last year to quiet the English people by giving

them that which was beneficial to them, I am therefore bound in consistency to quiet the Irish people this year

by giving them that which will be fatal to them? I utterly deny, too, that, in consenting to arm the government

with extraordinary powers for the purpose of repressing disturbances in Ireland, I am guilty of the smallest

inconsistency. On what occasion did I ever refuse to support any government in repressing disturbances? It is

perfectly true that, in the debates on the Reform Bill, I imputed the tumults and outrages of 1830 to misrule.

But did I ever say that those tumults and outrages ought to be tolerated? I did attribute the Kentish riots, the

Hampshire riots, the burning of corn stacks, the destruction of threshing machines, to the obstinacy with

which the Ministers of the Crown had refused to listen to the demands of the people. But did I ever say that

the rioters ought not to be imprisoned, that the incendiaries ought not to be hanged? I did ascribe the

disorders of Nottingham and the fearful sacking of Bristol to the unwise rejection of the Reform Bill by the

Lords. But did I ever say that such excesses as were committed at Nottingham and Bristol ought not to be put

I would act towards Ireland on the same principles on which I acted towards England. In Ireland, as in

England, I would remove every just cause of complaint; and in Ireland, as in England, I would support the

Government in preserving the public peace. What is there inconsistent in this? My honourable friend seems to

think that no person who believes that disturbances have been caused by maladministration can consistently

lend his help to put down those disturbances. If that be so, the honourable and learned Member for Dublin is

quite as inconsistent as I am; indeed, much more so; for he thinks very much worse of the Government than I

do; and yet he declares himself willing to assist the Government in quelling the tumults which, as he assures

us, its own misconduct is likely to produce. He told us yesterday that our harsh policy might perhaps goad the

unthinking populace of Ireland into insurrection; and he added that, if there should be insurrection, he should,

while execrating us as the authors of all the mischief, be found in our ranks, and should be ready to support us

in everything that might be necessary for the restoration of order. As to this part of the subject, there is no

difference in principle between the honourable and learned gentleman and myself. In his opinion, it is

probable that a time may soon come when vigorous coercion may be necessary, and when it may be the duty

of every friend of Ireland to cooperate in the work of coercion. In my opinion, that time has already come.

The grievances of Ireland are doubtless great, so great that I never would have connected myself with a

Government which I did not believe to be intent on redressing those grievances. But am I, because the

grievances of Ireland are great, and ought to be redressed, to abstain from redressing the worst grievance of

all? Am I to look on quietly while the laws are insulted by a furious rabble, while houses are plundered and

burned, while my peaceable fellowsubjects are butchered? The distribution of Church property, you tell us,

is unjust. Perhaps I agree with you. But what then? To what purpose is it to talk about the distribution of

Church property, while no property is secure? Then you try to deter us from putting down robbery, arson, and

murder, by telling us that if we resort to coercion we shall raise a civil war. We are past that fear. Recollect

that, in one county alone, there have been within a few weeks sixty murders or assaults with intent to murder

and six hundred burglaries. Since we parted last summer the slaughter in Ireland has exceeded the slaughter

of a pitched battle: the destruction of property has been as great as would have been caused by the storming

of three or four towns. Civil war, indeed! I would rather live in the midst of any civil war that we have had in

England during the last two hundred years than in some parts of Ireland at the present moment. Rather, much

rather, would I have lived on the line of march of the Pretender's army in 1745 than in Tipperary now. It is

idle to threaten us with civil war; for we have it already; and it is because we are resolved to put an end to it

that we are called base, and brutal, and bloody. Such are the epithets which the honourable and learned

Member for Dublin thinks it becoming to pour forth against the party to which he owes every political

privilege that he enjoys. He need not fear that any member of that party will be provoked into a conflict of

scurrility. Use makes even sensitive minds callous to invective: and, copious as his vocabulary is, he will not

easily find in it any foul name which has not been many times applied to those who sit around me, on account

of the zeal and steadiness with which they supported the emancipation of the Roman Catholics. His

reproaches are not more stinging than the reproaches which, in times not very remote, we endured

unflinchingly in his cause. I can assure him that men who faced the cry of No Popery are not likely to be

scared by the cry of Repeal. The time will come when history will do justice to the Whigs of England, and

will faithfully relate how much they did and suffered for Ireland; how, for the sake of Ireland, they quitted

office in 1807; how, for the sake of Ireland, they remained out of office more than twenty years, braving the

frowns of the Court, braving the hisses of the multitude, renouncing power, and patronage, and salaries, and

peerages, and garters, and yet not obtaining in return even a little fleeting popularity. I see on the benches

near me men who might, by uttering one word against Catholic Emancipation, nay, by merely abstaining

from uttering a word in favour of Catholic Emancipation, have been returned to this House without difficulty

or expense, and who, rather than wrong their Irish fellow subjects, were content to relinquish all the objects

of their honourable ambition, and to retire into private life with conscience and fame untarnished. As to one

eminent person, who seems to be regarded with especial malevolence by those who ought never to mention

his name without reverence and gratitude, I will say only this: that the loudest clamour which the honourable

and learned gentleman can excite against Lord Grey will be trifling when compared with the clamour which

Lord Grey withstood in order to place the honourable and learned gentleman where he now sits. Though a

young member of the Whig party, I will venture to speak in the name of the whole body. I tell the honourable

and learned gentleman, that the same spirit which sustained us in a just contest for him will sustain us in an

equally just contest against him. Calumny, abuse, royal displeasure, popular fury, exclusion from office,

exclusion from Parliament, we were ready to endure them all, rather than that he should be less than a British

I stand here, Sir, for the first time as the representative of a new constituent body, one of the largest, most

prosperous, and most enlightened towns in the kingdom. The electors of Leeds, believing that at this time the

service of the people is not incompatible with the service of the Crown, have sent me to this House charged,

in the language of His Majesty's writ, to do and consent, in their name and in their behalf, to such things as

shall be proposed in the great Council of the nation. In the name, then, and on the behalf of my constituents, I

give my full assent to that part of the Address wherein the House declares its resolution to maintain inviolate,

by the help of God, the connection between Great Britain and Ireland, and to intrust to the Sovereign such

powers as shall be necessary to secure property, to restore order, and to preserve the integrity of the empire.

On the seventeenth of April, 1833, the House of Commons resolved itself into a Committee to consider of the

civil disabilities of the Jews. Mr Warburton took the chair. Mr Robert Grant moved the following

"That it is the opinion of this Committee that it is expedient to remove all civil disabilities at present existing

with respect to His Majesty's subjects professing the Jewish religion, with the like exceptions as are provided

The resolution passed without a division, after a warm debate, in the course of which the following Speech

Mr Warburton,I recollect, and my honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford will

recollect, that when this subject was discussed three years ago, it was remarked, by one whom we both loved

and whom we both regret, that the strength of the case of the Jews was a serious inconvenience to their

advocate, for that it was hardly possible to make a speech for them without wearying the audience by

repeating truths which were universally admitted. If Sir James Mackintosh felt this difficulty when the

question was first brought forward in this House, I may well despair of being able now to offer any

My honourable friend, the Member for the University of Oxford, began his speech by declaring that he had

no intention of calling in question the principles of religious liberty. He utterly disclaims persecution, that is

to say, persecution as defined by himself. It would, in his opinion, be persecution to hang a Jew, or to flay

him, or to draw his teeth, or to imprison him, or to fine him; for every man who conducts himself peaceably

has a right to his life and his limbs, to his personal liberty and his property. But it is not persecution, says my

honourable friend, to exclude any individual or any class from office; for nobody has a right to office: in

every country official appointments must be subject to such regulations as the supreme authority may choose

to make; nor can any such regulations be reasonably complained of by any member of the society as unjust.

He who obtains an office obtains it, not as matter of right, but as matter of favour. He who does not obtain an

office is not wronged; he is only in that situation in which the vast majority of every community must

necessarily be. There are in the United Kingdom five and twenty million Christians without places; and, if

they do not complain, why should five and twenty thousand Jews complain of being in the same case? In this

way my honourable friend has convinced himself that, as it would be most absurd in him and me to say that

we are wronged because we are not Secretaries of State, so it is most absurd in the Jews to say that they are

Now, surely my honourable friend cannot have considered to what conclusions his reasoning leads. Those

conclusions are so monstrous that he would, I am certain, shrink from them. Does he really mean that it

would not be wrong in the legislature to enact that no man should be a judge unless he weighed twelve stone,

or that no man should sit in parliament unless he were six feet high? We are about to bring in a bill for the

government of India. Suppose that we were to insert in that bill a clause providing that no graduate of the

University of Oxford should be Governor General or Governor of any Presidency, would not my honourable

friend cry out against such a clause as most unjust to the learned body which he represents? And would he

think himself sufficiently answered by being told, in his own words, that the appointment to office is a mere

matter of favour, and that to exclude an individual or a class from office is no injury? Surely, on

consideration, he must admit that official appointments ought not to be subject to regulations purely arbitrary,

to regulations for which no reason can be given but mere caprice, and that those who would exclude any class

My honourable friend has appealed to us as Christians. Let me then ask him how he understands that great

commandment which comprises the law and the prophets. Can we be said to do unto others as we would that

they should do unto us if we wantonly inflict on them even the smallest pain? As Christians, surely we are

bound to consider, first, whether, by excluding the Jews from all public trust, we give them pain; and,

secondly, whether it be necessary to give them that pain in order to avert some greater evil. That by excluding

them from public trust we inflict pain on them my honourable friend will not dispute. As a Christian,

therefore, he is bound to relieve them from that pain, unless he can show, what I am sure he has not yet

shown, that it is necessary to the general good that they should continue to suffer.

But where, he says, are you to stop, if once you admit into the House of Commons people who deny the

authority of the Gospels? Will you let in a Mussulman? Will you let in a Parsee? Will you let in a Hindoo,

who worships a lump of stone with seven heads? I will answer my honourable friend's question by another.

Where does he mean to stop? Is he ready to roast unbelievers at slow fires? If not, let him tell us why: and I

will engage to prove that his reason is just as decisive against the intolerance which he thinks a duty, as

against the intolerance which he thinks a crime. Once admit that we are bound to inflict pain on a man

because he is not of our religion; and where are you to stop? Why stop at the point fixed by my honourable

friend rather than at the point fixed by the honourable Member for Oldham (Mr Cobbett.), who would make

the Jews incapable of holding land? And why stop at the point fixed by the honourable Member for Oldham

rather than at the point which would have been fixed by a Spanish Inquisitor of the sixteenth century? When

once you enter on a course of persecution, I defy you to find any reason for making a halt till you have

reached the extreme point. When my honourable friend tells us that he will allow the Jews to possess property

to any amount, but that he will not allow them to possess the smallest political power, he holds contradictory

language. Property is power. The honourable Member for Oldham reasons better than my honourable friend.

The honourable Member for Oldham sees very clearly that it is impossible to deprive a man of political

power if you suffer him to be the proprietor of half a county, and therefore very consistently proposes to

confiscate the landed estates of the Jews. But even the honourable Member for Oldham does not go far

enough. He has not proposed to confiscate the personal property of the Jews. Yet it is perfectly certain that

any Jew who has a million may easily make himself very important in the State. By such steps we pass from

official power to landed property, and from landed property to personal property, and from property to

liberty, and from liberty to life. In truth, those persecutors who use the rack and the stake have much to say

for themselves. They are convinced that their end is good; and it must be admitted that they employ means

which are not unlikely to attain the end. Religious dissent has repeatedly been put down by sanguinary

persecution. In that way the Albigenses were put down. In that way Protestantism was suppressed in Spain

and Italy, so that it has never since reared its head. But I defy any body to produce an instance in which

disabilities such as we are now considering have produced any other effect than that of making the sufferers

angry and obstinate. My honourable friend should either persecute to some purpose, or not persecute at all.

He dislikes the word persecution I know. He will not admit that the Jews are persecuted. And yet I am

confident that he would rather be sent to the King's Bench Prison for three months, or be fined a hundred

pounds, than be subject to the disabilities under which the Jews lie. How can he then say that to impose such

disabilities is not persecution, and that to fine and imprison is persecution? All his reasoning consists in

drawing arbitrary lines. What he does not wish to inflict he calls persecution. What he does wish to inflict he

will not call persecution. What he takes from the Jews he calls political power. What he is too goodnatured

to take from the Jews he will not call political power. The Jew must not sit in Parliament: but he may be the

proprietor of all the ten pound houses in a borough. He may have more fifty pound tenants than any peer in

the kingdom. He may give the voters treats to please their palates, and hire bands of gipsies to break their

heads, as if he were a Christian and a Marquess. All the rest of this system is of a piece. The Jew may be a

juryman, but not a judge. He may decide issues of fact, but not issues of law. He may give a hundred

thousand pounds damages; but he may not in the most trivial case grant a new trial. He may rule the money

market: he may influence the exchanges: he may be summoned to congresses of Emperors and Kings. Great

potentates, instead of negotiating a loan with him by tying him in a chair and pulling out his grinders, may

treat with him as with a great potentate, and may postpone the declaring of war or the signing of a treaty till

they have conferred with him. All this is as it should be: but he must not be a Privy Councillor. He must not

be called Right Honourable, for that is political power. And who is it that we are trying to cheat in this way?

Even Omniscience. Yes, Sir; we have been gravely told that the Jews are under the divine displeasure, and

that if we give them political power God will visit us in judgment. Do we then think that God cannot

distinguish between substance and form? Does not He know that, while we withhold from the Jews the

semblance and name of political power, we suffer them to possess the substance? The plain truth is that my

honourable friend is drawn in one direction by his opinions, and in a directly opposite direction by his

excellent heart. He halts between two opinions. He tries to make a compromise between principles which

admit of no compromise. He goes a certain way in intolerance. Then he stops, without being able to give a

reason for stopping. But I know the reason. It is his humanity. Those who formerly dragged the Jew at a

horse's tail, and singed his beard with blazing furzebushes, were much worse men than my honourable friend;

It has been said that it would be monstrous to see a Jew judge try a man for blasphemy. In my opinion it is

monstrous to see any judge try a man for blasphemy under the present law. But, if the law on that subject

were in a sound state, I do not see why a conscientious Jew might not try a blasphemer. Every man, I think,

ought to be at liberty to discuss the evidences of religion; but no man ought to be at liberty to force on the

unwilling ears and eyes of others sounds and sights which must cause annoyance and irritation. The

distinction is clear. I think it wrong to punish a man for selling Paine's Age of Reason in a backshop to those

who choose to buy, or for delivering a Deistical lecture in a private room to those who choose to listen. But if

a man exhibits at a window in the Strand a hideous caricature of that which is an object of awe and adoration

to nine hundred and ninetynine out of every thousand of people who pass up and down that great

thoroughfare; if a man in a place of public resort applies opprobrious epithets to names held in reverence by

all Christians; such a man ought, in my opinion, to be severely punished, not for differing from us in opinion,

but for committing a nuisance which gives us pain and disgust. He is no more entitled to outrage our feelings

by obtruding his impiety on us, and to say that he is exercising his right of discussion, than to establish a yard

for butchering horses close to our houses, and to say that he is exercising his right of property, or to run naked

up and down the public streets, and to say that he is exercising his right of locomotion. He has a right of

discussion, no doubt, as he has a right of property and a right of locomotion. But he must use all his rights so

These, Sir, are the principles on which I would frame the law of blasphemy; and if the law were so framed, I

am at a loss to understand why a Jew might not enforce it as well as a Christian. I am not a Roman Catholic;

but if I were a judge at Malta, I should have no scruple about punishing a bigoted Protestant who should burn

the Pope in effigy before the eyes of thousands of Roman Catholics. I am not a Mussulman; but if I were a

judge in India, I should have no scruple about punishing a Christian who should pollute a mosque. Why, then,

should I doubt that a Jew, raised by his ability, learning, and integrity to the judicial bench, would deal

properly with any person who, in a Christian country, should insult the Christian religion?

But, says my honourable friend, it has been prophesied that the Jews are to be wanderers on the face of the

earth, and that they are not to mix on terms of equality with the people of the countries in which they sojourn.

Now, Sir, I am confident that I can demonstrate that this is not the sense of any prophecy which is part of

Holy Writ. For it is an undoubted fact that, in the United States of America, Jewish citizens do possess all the

privileges possessed by Christian citizens. Therefore, if the prophecies mean that the Jews never shall, during

their wanderings, be admitted by other nations to equal participation of political rights, the prophecies are

false. But the prophecies are certainly not false. Therefore their meaning cannot be that which is attributed to

Another objection which has been made to this motion is that the Jews look forward to the coming of a great

deliverer, to their return to Palestine, to the rebuilding of their Temple, to the revival of their ancient worship,

and that therefore they will always consider England, not their country, but merely as their place of exile.

But, surely, Sir, it would be the grossest ignorance of human nature to imagine that the anticipation of an

event which is to happen at some time altogether indefinite, of an event which has been vainly expected

during many centuries, of an event which even those who confidently expect that it will happen do not

confidently expect that they or their children or their grandchildren will see, can ever occupy the minds of

men to such a degree as to make them regardless of what is near and present and certain. Indeed Christians,

as well as Jews, believe that the existing order of things will come to an end. Many Christians believe that

Jesus will visibly reign on earth during a thousand years. Expositors of prophecy have gone so far as to fix

the year when the Millennial period is to commence. The prevailing opinion is, I think, in favour of the year

1866; but, according to some commentators, the time is close at hand. Are we to exclude all millennarians

from Parliament and office, on the ground that they are impatiently looking forward to the miraculous

monarchy which is to supersede the present dynasty and the present constitution of England, and that

In one important point, Sir, my honourable friend, the Member for the University of Oxford, must

acknowledge that the Jewish religion is of all erroneous religions the least mischievous. There is not the

slightest chance that the Jewish religion will spread. The Jew does not wish to make proselytes. He may be

said to reject them. He thinks it almost culpable in one who does not belong to his race to presume to belong

to his religion. It is therefore not strange that a conversion from Christianity to Judaism should be a rarer

occurrence than a total eclipse of the sun. There was one distinguished convert in the last century, Lord

George Gordon; and the history of his conversion deserves to be remembered. For if ever there was a

proselyte of whom a proselytising sect would have been proud, it was Lord George; not only because he was

a man of high birth and rank; not only because he had been a member of the legislature; but also because he

had been distinguished by the intolerance, nay, the ferocity, of his zeal for his own form of Christianity. But

was he allured into the Synagogue? Was he even welcomed to it? No, sir; he was coldly and reluctantly

permitted to share the reproach and suffering of the chosen people; but he was sternly shut out from their

privileges. He underwent the painful rite which their law enjoins. But when, on his deathbed, he begged hard

to be buried among them according to their ceremonial, he was told that his request could not be granted. I

understand that cry of "Hear." It reminds me that one of the arguments against this motion is that the Jews are

an unsocial people, that they draw close to each other, and stand aloof from strangers. Really, Sir, it is

amusing to compare the manner in which the question of Catholic emancipation was argued formerly by

some gentlemen with the manner in which the question of Jew emancipation is argued by the same gentlemen

now. When the question was about Catholic emancipation, the cry was, "See how restless, how versatile, how

encroaching, how insinuating, is the spirit of the Church of Rome. See how her priests compass earth and sea

to make one proselyte, how indefatigably they toil, how attentively they study the weak and strong parts of

every character, how skilfully they employ literature, arts, sciences, as engines for the propagation of their

faith. You find them in every region and under every disguise, collating manuscripts in the Bodleian, fixing

telescopes in the observatory of Pekin, teaching the use of the plough and the spinningwheel to the savages

of Paraguay. Will you give power to the members of a Church so busy, so aggressive, so insatiable?" Well,

now the question is about people who never try to seduce any stranger to join them, and who do not wish

anybody to be of their faith who is not also of their blood. And now you exclaim, "Will you give power to the

members of a sect which remains sullenly apart from other sects, which does not invite, nay, which hardly

ever admits neophytes?" The truth is, that bigotry will never want a pretence. Whatever the sect be which it is

proposed to tolerate, the peculiarities of that sect will, for the time, be pronounced by intolerant men to be the

most odious and dangerous that can be conceived. As to the Jews, that they are unsocial as respects religion is

true; and so much the better: for, surely, as Christians, we cannot wish that they should bestir themselves to

pervert us from our own faith. But that the Jews would be unsocial members of the civil community, if the

civil community did its duty by them, has never been proved. My right honourable friend who made the

motion which we are discussing has produced a great body of evidence to show that they have been grossly

misrepresented; and that evidence has not been refuted by my honourable friend the Member for the

University of Oxford. But what if it were true that the Jews are unsocial? What if it were true that they do not

regard England as their country? Would not the treatment which they have undergone explain and excuse

their antipathy to the society in which they live? Has not similar antipathy often been felt by persecuted

Christians to the society which persecuted them? While the bloody code of Elizabeth was enforced against

the English Roman Catholics, what was the patriotism of Roman Catholics? Oliver Cromwell said that in his

time they were Espaniolised. At a later period it might have been said that they were Gallicised. It was the

same with the Calvinists. What more deadly enemies had France in the days of Louis the Fourteenth than the

persecuted Huguenots? But would any rational man infer from these facts that either the Roman Catholic as

such, or the Calvinist as such, is incapable of loving the land of his birth? If England were now invaded by

Roman Catholics, how many English Roman Catholics would go over to the invader? If France were now

attacked by a Protestant enemy, how many French Protestants would lend him help? Why not try what effect

would be produced on the Jews by that tolerant policy which has made the English Roman Catholic a good

Another charge has been brought against the Jews, not by my honourable friend the Member for the

University of Oxfordhe has too much learning and too much good feeling to make such a chargebut by

the honourable Member for Oldham, who has, I am sorry to see, quitted his place. The honourable Member

for Oldham tells us that the Jews are naturally a mean race, a sordid race, a moneygetting race; that they are

averse to all honourable callings; that they neither sow nor reap; that they have neither flocks nor herds; that

usury is the only pursuit for which they are fit; that they are destitute of all elevated and amiable sentiments.

Such, Sir, has in every age been the reasoning of bigots. They never fail to plead in justification of

persecution the vices which persecution has engendered. England has been to the Jews less than half a

country; and we revile them because they do not feel for England more than a half patriotism. We treat them

as slaves, and wonder that they do not regard us as brethren. We drive them to mean occupations, and then

reproach them for not embracing honourable professions. We long forbade them to possess land; and we

complain that they chiefly occupy themselves in trade. We shut them out from all the paths of ambition; and

then we despise them for taking refuge in avarice. During many ages we have, in all our dealings with them,

abused our immense superiority of force; and then we are disgusted because they have recourse to that

cunning which is the natural and universal defence of the weak against the violence of the strong. But were

they always a mere moneychanging, money getting, moneyhoarding race? Nobody knows better than my

honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford that there is nothing in their national character

which unfits them for the highest duties of citizens. He knows that, in the infancy of civilisation, when our

island was as savage as New Guinea, when letters and arts were still unknown to Athens, when scarcely a

thatched hut stood on what was afterwards the site of Rome, this contemned people had their fenced cities

and cedar palaces, their splendid Temple, their fleets of merchant ships, their schools of sacred learning, their

great statesmen and soldiers, their natural philosophers, their historians and their poets. What nation ever

contended more manfully against overwhelming odds for its independence and religion? What nation ever, in

its last agonies, gave such signal proofs of what may be accomplished by a brave despair? And if, in the

course of many centuries, the oppressed descendants of warriors and sages have degenerated from the

qualities of their fathers, if, while excluded from the blessings of law, and bowed down under the yoke of

slavery, they have contracted some of the vices of outlaws and of slaves, shall we consider this as matter of

reproach to them? Shall we not rather consider it as matter of shame and remorse to ourselves? Let us do

justice to them. Let us open to them the door of the House of Commons. Let us open to them every career in

which ability and energy can be displayed. Till we have done this, let us not presume to say that there is no

genius among the countrymen of Isaiah, no heroism among the descendants of the Maccabees.

Sir, in supporting the motion of my honourable friend, I am, I firmly believe, supporting the honour and the

interests of the Christian religion. I should think that I insulted that religion if I said that it cannot stand

unaided by intolerant laws. Without such laws it was established, and without such laws it may be

maintained. It triumphed over the superstitions of the most refined and of the most savage nations, over the

graceful mythology of Greece and the bloody idolatry of the Northern forests. It prevailed over the power and

policy of the Roman empire. It tamed the barbarians by whom that empire was overthrown. But all these

victories were gained not by the help of intolerance, but in spite of the opposition of intolerance. The whole

history of Christianity proves that she has little indeed to fear from persecution as a foe, but much to fear

from persecution as an ally. May she long continue to bless our country with her benignant influence, strong

in her sublime philosophy, strong in her spotless morality, strong in those internal and external evidences to

which the most powerful and comprehensive of human intellects have yielded assent, the last solace of those

who have outlived every earthly hope, the last restraint of those who are raised above every earthly fear! But

let not us, mistaking her character and her interests, fight the battle of truth with the weapons of error, and

endeavour to support by oppression that religion which first taught the human race the great lesson of

On Wednesday, the tenth of July 1833, Mr Charles Grant, President of the Board of Control, moved that the

Bill for effecting an arrangement with the India Company, and for the better government of His Majesty's

Indian territories, should be read a second time. The motion was carried without a division, but not without a

Having, while this bill was in preparation, enjoyed the fullest and kindest confidence of my right honourable

friend, the President of the Board of Control, agreeing with him completely in all those views which on a

former occasion he so luminously and eloquently developed, having shared his anxieties, and feeling that in

some degree I share his responsibility, I am naturally desirous to obtain the attention of the House while I

attempt to defend the principles of the proposed arrangement. I wish that I could promise to be very brief; but

the subject is so extensive that I will only promise to condense what I have to say as much as I can.

I rejoice, Sir, that I am completely dispensed, by the turn which our debates have taken, from the necessity of

saying anything in favour of one part of our plan, the opening of the China trade. No voice, I believe, has yet

been raised here in support of the monopoly. On that subject all public men of all parties seem to be agreed.

The resolution proposed by the Ministers has received the unanimous assent of both Houses, and the

approbation of the whole kingdom. I will not, therefore, Sir, detain you by vindicating what no gentleman has

yet ventured to attack, but will proceed to call your attention to those effects which this great commercial

The China trade is to be opened. Reason requires this. Public opinion requires it. The Government of the

Duke of Wellington felt the necessity as strongly as the Government of Lord Grey. No Minister, Whig or

Tory, could have been found to propose a renewal of the monopoly. No parliament, reformed or unreformed,

would have listened to such a proposition. But though the opening of the trade was a matter concerning which

the public had long made up its mind, the political consequences which must necessarily follow from the

opening of the trade seem to me to be even now little understood. The language which I have heard in almost

every circle where the subject was discussed was this: "Take away the monopoly, and leave the government

of India to the Company:" a very short and convenient way of settling one of the most complicated questions

that ever a legislature had to consider. The honourable Member for Sheffield (Mr Buckingham.), though not

disposed to retain the Company as an organ of government, has repeatedly used language which proves that

he shares in the general misconception. The fact is that the abolition of the monopoly rendered it absolutely

necessary to make a fundamental change in the constitution of that great Corporation.

The Company had united in itself two characters, the character of trader and the character of sovereign.

Between the trader and the sovereign there was a long and complicated account, almost every item of which

furnished matter for litigation. While the monopoly continued, indeed, litigation was averted. The effect of

the monopoly was, to satisfy the claims both of commerce and of territory, at the expense of a third party, the

English people: to secure at once funds for the dividend of the stockholder and funds for the government of

the Indian Empire, by means of a heavy tax on the tea consumed in this country. But, when the third party

would no longer bear this charge, all the great financial questions which had, at the cost of that third party,

been kept in abeyance, were opened in an instant. The connection between the Company in its mercantile

capacity, and the same Company in its political capacity, was dissolved. Even if the Company were

permitted, as has been suggested, to govern India, and at the same time to trade with China, no advances

would be made from the profits of its Chinese trade for the support of its Indian government. It was in

consideration of the exclusive privilege that the Company had hitherto been required to make those advances;

it was by the exclusive privilege that the Company had been enabled to make them. When that privilege was

taken away, it would be unreasonable in the legislature to impose such an obligation, and impossible for the

Company to fulfil it. The whole system of loans from commerce to territory, and repayments from territory to

commerce, must cease. Each party must rest altogether on its own resources. It was therefore absolutely

necessary to ascertain what resources each party possessed, to bring the long and intricate account between

them to a close, and to assign to each a fair portion of assets and liabilities. There was vast property. How

much of that property was applicable to purposes of state? How much was applicable to a dividend? There

were debts to the amount of many millions. Which of these were the debts of the government that ruled at

Calcutta? Which of the great mercantile house that bought tea at Canton? Were the creditors to look to the

land revenues of India for their money? Or, were they entitled to put executions into the warehouses behind

There were two ways of settling these questionsadjudication and compromise. The difficulties of

adjudication were great; I think insuperable. Whatever acuteness and diligence could do has been done. One

person in particular, whose talents and industry peculiarly fitted him for such investigations, and of whom I

can never think without regret, Mr Hyde Villiers, devoted himself to the examination with an ardour and a

perseverance, which, I believe, shortened a life most valuable to his country and to his friends. The assistance

of the most skilful accountants has been called in. But the difficulties are such as no accountant, however

skilful, could possibly remove. The difficulties are not arithmetical, but political. They arise from the

constitution of the Company, from the long and intimate union of the commercial and imperial characters in

one body. Suppose that the treasurer of a charity were to mix up the money which he receives on account of

the charity with his own private rents and dividends, to pay the whole into his bank to his own private

account, to draw it out again by cheques in exactly the same form when he wanted it for his private expenses,

and when he wanted it for the purposes of his public trust. Suppose that he were to continue to act thus till he

was himself ignorant whether he were in advance or in arrear; and suppose that many years after his death a

question were to arise whether his estate were in debt to the charity or the charity in debt to his estate. Such is

the question which is now before us, with this important difference; that the accounts of an individual could

not be in such a state unless he had been guilty of fraud, or of that gross negligence which is scarcely less

culpable than fraud, and that the accounts of the Company were brought into this state by circumstances of a

It is a mistake to suppose that the Company was a merely commercial body till the middle of the last century.

Commerce was its chief object; but in order to enable it to pursue that object, it had been, like the other

Companies which were its rivals, like the Dutch India Company, like the French India Company, invested

from a very early period with political functions. More than a hundred and twenty years ago, the Company

was in miniature precisely what it now is. It was intrusted with the very highest prerogatives of sovereignty.

It had its forts, and its white captains, and its black sepoys; it had its civil and criminal tribunals; it was

authorised to proclaim martial law; it sent ambassadors to the native governments, and concluded treaties

with them; it was Zemindar of several districts, and within those districts, like other Zemindars of the first

class, it exercised the powers of a sovereign, even to the infliction of capital punishment on the Hindoos

within its jurisdiction. It is incorrect, therefore, to say, that the Company was at first a mere trader, and has

since become a sovereign. It was at first a great trader and a petty prince. The political functions at first

attracted little notice, because they were merely auxiliary to the commercial functions. By degrees, however,

the political functions became more and more important. The Zemindar became a great nabob, became

sovereign of all India; the two hundred sepoys became two hundred thousand. This change was gradually

wrought, and was not immediately comprehended. It was natural that, while the political functions of the

Company were merely auxiliary to its commerce, the political accounts should have been mixed up with the

commercial accounts. It was equally natural that this mode of keeping accounts, having once been

established, should have remained unaltered; and the more so, as the change in the situation of the Company,

though rapid, was not sudden. It is impossible to name any one day, or any one year, as the day or the year

when the Company became a great potentate. It has been the fashion indeed to fix on the year 1765, the year

in which the Mogul issued a commission authorising the Company to administer the revenues of Bengal,

Bahar, and Orissa, as the precise date of the accession of this singular body to sovereignty. I am utterly at a

loss to understand why this epoch should be selected. Long before 1765 the Company had the reality of

political power. Long before that year, they made a Nabob of Arcot; they made and unmade Nabobs of

Bengal; they humbled the Vizier of Oude; they braved the Emperor of Hindostan himself; more than half the

revenues of Bengal were, under one pretence or another, administered by them. And after the grant, the

Company was not, in form and name, an independent power. It was merely a minister of the Court of Delhi.

Its coinage bore the name of Shah Alam. The inscription which, down to the time of the Marquess of

Hastings, appeared on the seal of the Governor General, declared that great functionary to be the slave of

the Mogul. Even to this day we have never formally deposed the King of Delhi. The Company contents itself

with being Mayor of the Palace, while the Roi Faineant is suffered to play at being a sovereign. In fact, it was

considered, both by Lord Clive and by Warren Hastings, as a point of policy to leave the character of the

Company thus undefined, in order that the English might treat the princes in whose names they governed as

Thus the transformation of the Company from a trading body, which possessed some sovereign prerogatives

for the purposes of trade, into a sovereign body, the trade of which was auxiliary to its sovereignty, was

effected by degrees and under disguise. It is not strange, therefore, that the mercantile and political

transactions of this great corporation should be entangled together in inextricable complication. The

commercial investments have been purchased out of the revenues of the empire. The expenses of war and

government have been defrayed out of the profits of the trade. Commerce and territory have contributed to

the improvement of the same spot of land, to the repairs of the same building. Securities have been given in

precisely the same form for money which has been borrowed for purposes of State, and for money which has

been borrowed for purposes of traffic. It is easy, indeed,and this is a circumstance which has, I think,

misled some gentlemen,it is easy to see what part of the assets of the Company appears in a commercial

form, and what part appears in a political or territorial form. But this is not the question. Assets which are

commercial in form may be territorial as respects the right of property; assets which are territorial in form

may be commercial as respects the right of property. A chest of tea is not necessarily commercial property; it

may have been bought out of the territorial revenue. A fort is not necessarily territorial property; it may stand

on ground which the Company bought a hundred years ago out of their commercial profits. Adjudication, if

by adjudication be meant decision according to some known rule of law, was out of the question. To leave

matters like these to be determined by the ordinary maxims of our civil jurisprudence would have been the

height of absurdity and injustice. For example, the home bond debt of the Company, it is believed, was

incurred partly for political and partly for commercial purposes. But there is no evidence which would enable

us to assign to each branch its proper share. The bonds all run in the same form; and a court of justice would,

therefore, of course, either lay the whole burthen on the proprietors, or lay the whole on the territory. We

have legal opinions, very respectable legal opinions, to the effect, that in strictness of law the territory is not

responsible, and that the commercial assets are responsible for every farthing of the debts which were

incurred for the government and defence of India. But though this may be, and I believe is, law, it is, I am

sure, neither reason nor justice. On the other hand, it is urged by the advocates of the Company, that some

valuable portions of the territory are the property of that body in its commercial capacity; that Calcutta, for

example, is the private estate of the Company; that the Company holds the island of Bombay, in free and

common socage, as of the Manor of East Greenwich. I will not pronounce any opinion on these points. I have

considered them enough to see that there is quite difficulty enough in them to exercise all the ingenuity of all

the lawyers in the kingdom for twenty years. But the fact is, Sir, that the municipal law was not made for

controversies of this description. The existence of such a body as this gigantic corporation, this political

monster of two natures, subject in one hemisphere, sovereign in another, had never been contemplated by the

legislators or judges of former ages. Nothing but grotesque absurdity and atrocious injustice could have been

the effect, if the claims and liabilities of such a body had been settled according to the rules of Westminster

Hall, if the maxims of conveyancers had been applied to the titles by which flourishing cities and provinces

are held, or the maxims of the law merchant to those promissory notes which are the securities for a great

National Debt, raised for the purpose of exterminating the Pindarrees and humbling the Burmese.

It was, as I have said, absolutely impossible to bring the question between commerce and territory to a

satisfactory adjudication; and I must add that, even if the difficulties which I have mentioned could have been

surmounted, even if there had been reason to hope that a satisfactory adjudication could have been obtained, I

should still have wished to avoid that course. I think it desirable that the Company should continue to have a

share in the government of India; and it would evidently have been impossible, pending a litigation between

commerce and territory, to leave any political power to the Company. It would clearly have been the duty of

those who were charged with the superintendence of India, to be the patrons of India throughout that

momentous litigation, to scrutinise with the utmost severity every claim which might be made on the Indian

revenues, and to oppose, with energy and perseverance, every such claim, unless its justice were manifest. If

the Company was to be engaged in a suit for many millions, in a suit which might last for many years, against

the Indian territory, could we entrust the Company with the government of that territory? Could we put the

plaintiff in the situation of prochain ami of the defendant? Could we appoint governors who would have an

interest opposed in the most direct manner to the interest of the governed, whose stock would have been

raised in value by every decision which added to the burthens of their subjects, and depressed by every

decision which diminished those burthens? It would be absurd to suppose that they would efficiently defend

our Indian Empire against the claims which they were themselves bringing against it; and it would be equally

absurd to give the government of the Indian Empire to those who could not be trusted to defend its interests.

Seeing, then, that it was most difficult, if not wholly impossible, to resort to adjudication between commerce

and territory, seeing that, if recourse were had to adjudication, it would be necessary to make a complete

revolution in the whole constitution of India, the Government has proposed a compromise. That compromise,

with some modifications which did not in the slightest degree affect its principle, and which, while they gave

satisfaction to the Company, will eventually lay no additional burthen on the territory, has been accepted. It

has, like all other compromises, been loudly censured by violent partisans on both sides. It has been

represented by some as far too favourable to the Company, and by others as most unjust to the Company. Sir,

I own that we cannot prove that either of these accusations is unfounded. It is of the very essence of our case

that we should not be able to show that we have assigned, either to commerce or to territory, its precise due.

For our principal reason for recommending a compromise was our full conviction that it was absolutely

impossible to ascertain with precision what was due to commerce and what was due to territory. It is not

strange that some people should accuse us of robbing the Company, and others of conferring a vast boon on

the Company, at the expense of India: for we have proposed a middle course, on the very ground that there

was a chance of a result much more favourable to the Company than our arrangement, and a chance also of a

result much less favourable. If the questions pending between the Company and India had been decided as

the ardent supporters of the Company predicted, India would, if I calculate rightly, have paid eleven millions

more than she will now have to pay. If those questions had been decided as some violent enemies of the

Company predicted, that great body would have been utterly ruined. The very meaning of compromise is that

each party gives up his chance of complete success, in order to be secured against the chance of utter failure.

And, as men of sanguine minds always overrate the chances in their own favour, every fair compromise is

sure to be severely censured on both sides. I conceive that, in a case so dark and complicated as this, the

compromise which we recommend is sufficiently vindicated, if it cannot be proved to be unfair. We are not

bound to prove it to be fair. For it would have been unnecessary for us to resort to compromise at all if we

had been in possession of evidence which would have enabled us to pronounce, with certainty, what claims

were fair and what were unfair. It seems to me that we have acted with due consideration for every party. The

dividend which we give to the proprietors is precisely the same dividend which they have been receiving

during forty years, and which they have expected to receive permanently. The price of their stock bears at

present the same proportion to the price of other stock which it bore four or five years ago, before the anxiety

and excitement which the late negotiations naturally produced had begun to operate. As to the territory, on

the other hand, it is true that, if the assets which are now in a commercial form should not produce a fund

sufficient to pay the debts and dividend of the Company, the territory must stand to the loss and pay the

difference. But in return for taking this risk, the territory obtains an immediate release from claims to the

amount of many millions. I certainly do not believe that all those claims could have been substantiated; but I

know that very able men think differently. And, if only onefourth of the sum demanded had been awarded

to the Company, India would have lost more than the largest sum which, as it seems to me, she can possibly

In a pecuniary point of view, therefore, I conceive that we can defend the measure as it affects the territory.

But to the territory the pecuniary question is of secondary importance. If we have made a good pecuniary

bargain for India, but a bad political bargain, if we have saved three or four millions to the finances of that

country, and given to it, at the same time, pernicious institutions, we shall indeed have been practising a most

ruinous parsimony. If, on the other hand, it shall be found that we have added fifty or a hundred thousand

pounds ayear to the expenditure of an empire which yields a revenue of twenty millions, but that we have at

the same time secured to that empire, as far as in us lies, the blessings of good government, we shall have no

reason to be ashamed of our profusion. I hope and believe that India will have to pay nothing. But on the

most unfavourable supposition that can be made, she will not have to pay so much to the Company as she

now pays annually to a single state pageant, to the titular Nabob of Bengal, for example, or the titular King of

Delhi. What she pays to these nominal princes, who, while they did anything, did mischief, and who now do

nothing, she may well consent to pay to her real rulers, if she receives from them, in return, efficient

We come then to the great question. Is it desirable to retain the Company as an organ of government for

India? I think that it is desirable. The question is, I acknowledge, beset with difficulties. We have to solve one

of the hardest problems in politics. We are trying to make brick without straw, to bring a clean thing out of an

unclean, to give a good government to a people to whom we cannot give a free government. In this country,

in any neighbouring country, it is easy to frame securities against oppression. In Europe, you have the

materials of good government everywhere ready to your hands. The people are everywhere perfectly

competent to hold some share, not in every country an equal share, but some share of political power. If the

question were, What is the best mode of securing good government in Europe? the merest smatterer in

politics would answer, representative institutions. In India you cannot have representative institutions. Of all

the innumerable speculators who have offered their suggestions on Indian politics, not a single one, as far as I

know, however democratical his opinions may be, has ever maintained the possibility of giving, at the present

time, such institutions to India. One gentleman, extremely well acquainted with the affairs of our Eastern

Empire, a most valuable servant of the Company, and the author of a History of India, which, though

certainly not free from faults, is, I think, on the whole, the greatest historical work which has appeared in our

language since that of Gibbon, I mean Mr Mill, was examined on this point. That gentleman is well known to

be a very bold and uncompromising politician. He has written strongly, far too strongly I think, in favour of

pure democracy. He has gone so far as to maintain that no nation which has not a representative legislature,

chosen by universal suffrage, enjoys security against oppression. But when he was asked before the

Committee of last year, whether he thought representative government practicable in India, his answer was,

"utterly out of the question." This, then, is the state in which we are. We have to frame a good government for

a country into which, by universal acknowledgment, we cannot introduce those institutions which all our

habits, which all the reasonings of European philosophers, which all the history of our own part of the world

would lead us to consider as the one great security for good government. We have to engraft on despotism

those blessings which are the natural fruits of liberty. In these circumstances, Sir, it behoves us to be cautious,

even to the verge of timidity. The light of political science and of history are withdrawn: we are walking in

darkness: we do not distinctly see whither we are going. It is the wisdom of a man, so situated, to feel his

way, and not to plant his foot till he is well assured that the ground before him is firm.

Some things, however, in the midst of this obscurity, I can see with clearness. I can see, for example, that it is

desirable that the authority exercised in this country over the Indian government should be divided between

two bodies, between a minister or a board appointed by the Crown, and some other body independent of the

Crown. If India is to be a dependency of England, to be at war with our enemies, to be at peace with our

allies, to be protected by the English navy from maritime aggression, to have a portion of the English army

mixed with its sepoys, it plainly follows that the King, to whom the Constitution gives the direction of

foreign affairs, and the command of the military and naval forces, ought to have a share in the direction of the

Indian government. Yet, on the other hand, that a revenue of twenty millions a year, an army of two hundred

thousand men, a civil service abounding with lucrative situations, should be left to the disposal of the Crown

without any check whatever, is what no minister, I conceive, would venture to propose. This House is indeed

the check provided by the Constitution on the abuse of the royal prerogative. But that this House is, or is

likely ever to be, an efficient check on abuses practised in India, I altogether deny. We have, as I believe we

all feel, quite business enough. If we were to undertake the task of looking into Indian affairs as we look into

British affairs, if we were to have Indian budgets and Indian estimates, if we were to go into the Indian

currency question and the Indian Bank Charter, if to our disputes about Belgium and Holland, Don Pedro and

Don Miguel, were to be added disputes about the debts of the Guicowar and the disorders of Mysore, the

exking of the Afghans and the Maharajah Runjeet Sing; if we were to have one night occupied by the

embezzlements of the Benares mint, and another by the panic in the Calcutta money market; if the questions

of Suttee or no Suttee, Pilgrim tax or no Pilgrim tax, Ryotwary or Zemindary, half Batta or whole Batta, were

to be debated at the same length at which we have debated Church reform and the assessed taxes,

twentyfour hours a day and three hundred and sixtyfive days a year would be too short a time for the

discharge of our duties. The House, it is plain, has not the necessary time to settle these matters; nor has it the

necessary knowledge; nor has it the motives to acquire that knowledge. The late change in its constitution has

made it, I believe, a much more faithful representative of the English people. But it is as far as ever from

being a representative of the Indian people. A broken head in Cold Bath Fields produces a greater sensation

among us than three pitched battles in India. A few weeks ago we had to decide on a claim brought by an

individual against the revenues of India. If it had been an English question the walls would scarcely have held

the Members who would have flocked to the division. It was an Indian question; and we could scarcely, by

dint of supplication, make a House. Even when my right honourable friend, the President of the Board of

Control, gave his able and interesting explanation of the plan which he intended to propose for the

government of a hundred millions of human beings, the attendance was not so large as I have often seen it on

I then take these things as proved, that the Crown must have a certain authority over India, that there must be

an efficient check on the authority of the Crown, and that the House of Commons cannot be that efficient

check. We must then find some other body to perform that important office. We have such a body, the

It is true that the power of the Company is an anomaly in politics. It is strange, very strange, that a

jointstock society of traders, a society, the shares of which are daily passed from hand to hand, a society, the

component parts of which are perpetually changing, a society, which, judging a priori from its constitution,

we should have said was as little fitted for imperial functions as the Merchant Tailors' Company or the New

River Company, should be intrusted with the sovereignty of a larger population, the disposal of a larger clear

revenue, the command of a larger army, than are under the direct management of the Executive Government

of the United Kingdom. But what constitution can we give to our Indian Empire which shall not be strange,

which shall not be anomalous? That Empire is itself the strangest of all political anomalies. That a handful of

adventurers from an island in the Atlantic should have subjugated a vast country divided from the place of

their birth by half the globe; a country which at no very distant period was merely the subject of fable to the

nations of Europe; a country never before violated by the most renowned of Western conquerors; a country

which Trajan never entered; a country lying beyond the point where the phalanx of Alexander refused to

proceed; that we should govern a territory ten thousand miles from us, a territory larger and more populous

than France, Spain, Italy, and Germany put together, a territory, the present clear revenue of which exceeds

the present clear revenue of any state in the world, France excepted; a territory inhabited by men differing

from us in race, colour, language, manners, morals, religion; these are prodigies to which the world has seen

nothing similar. Reason is confounded. We interrogate the past in vain. General rules are useless where the

whole is one vast exception. The Company is an anomaly; but it is part of a system where every thing is

anomaly. It is the strangest of all governments; but it is designed for the strangest of all empires.

If we discard the Company, we must find a substitute: and, take what substitute we may, we shall find

ourselves unable to give any reason for believing that the body which we have put in the room of the

Company is likely to acquit itself of its duties better than the Company. Commissioners appointed by the

King during pleasure would be no check on the Crown; Commissioners appointed by the King or by

Parliament for life would always be appointed by the political party which might be uppermost, and if a

change of administration took place, would harass the new Government with the most vexatious opposition.

The plan suggested by the right honourable Gentleman, the Member for Montgomeryshire (Mr Charles

Wynn.), is I think the very worst that I have ever heard. He would have Directors nominated every four years

by the Crown. Is it not plain that these Directors would always be appointed from among the supporters of

the Ministry for the time being; that their situations would depend on the permanence of that Ministry; that

therefore all their power and patronage would be employed for the purpose of propping that Ministry, and, in

case of a change, for the purpose of molesting those who might succeed to power; that they would be

subservient while their friends were in, and factious when their friends were out? How would Lord Grey's

Ministry have been situated if the whole body of Directors had been nominated by the Duke of Wellington in

1830. I mean no imputation on the Duke of Wellington. If the present ministers had to nominate Directors for

four years, they would, I have no doubt, nominate men who would give no small trouble to the Duke of

Wellington if he were to return to office. What we want is a body independent of the Government, and no

more than independent; not a tool of the Treasury, not a tool of the opposition. No new plan which I have

heard proposed would give us such a body. The Company, strange as its constitution may be, is such a body.

It is, as a corporation, neither Whig nor Tory, neither highchurch nor low church. It cannot be charged

with having been for or against the Catholic Bill, for or against the Reform Bill. It has constantly acted with a

view not to English politics, but to Indian politics. We have seen the country convulsed by faction. We have

seen Ministers driven from office by this House, Parliament dissolved in anger, general elections of

unprecedented turbulence, debates of unprecedented interest. We have seen the two branches of the

Legislature placed in direct opposition to each other. We have seen the advisers of the Crown dismissed one

day, and brought back the next day on the shoulders of the people. And amidst all these agitating events the

Company has preserved strict and unsuspected neutrality. This is, I think an inestimable advantage, and it is

an advantage which we must altogether forego, if we consent to adopt any of the schemes which I have heard

We must judge of the Indian government, as of all other governments, by its practical effects. According to

the honourable Member for Sheffield, India is ill governed; and the whole fault is with the Company.

Innumerable accusations, great and small, are brought by him against the Directors. They are fond of war:

they are fond of dominion: the taxation is burthensome: the laws are undigested: the roads are rough: the post

goes on foot: and for everything the Company is answerable. From the dethronement of the Mogul princes to

the mishaps of Sir Charles Metcalfe's courier, every disaster that has taken place in the East during sixty

years is laid to the charge of this Corporation. And the inference is, that all the power which they possess

Now, Sir, it seems to me that, for all the evils which the honourable Gentleman has so pathetically recounted,

the Ministers of the Crown are as much to blame as the Company; nay, much more so: for the Board of

Control could, without the consent of the Directors, have redressed those evils; and the Directors most

certainly could not have redressed them without the consent of the Board of Control. Take the case of that

frightful grievance which seems to have made the deepest impression on the mind of the honourable

Gentleman, the slowness of the mail. Why, Sir, if my right honourable friend, the President of our Board

thought fit, he might direct me to write to the Court and require them to frame a dispatch on that subject. If

the Court disobeyed, he might himself frame a dispatch ordering Lord William Bentinck to put the dawks all

over Bengal on horseback. If the Court refused to send out this dispatch, the Board could apply to the King's

Bench for a mandamus. If, on the other hand, the Directors wished to accelerate the journeys of the mail, and

the Board were adverse to the project, the Directors could do nothing at all. For all measures of internal

policy the servants of the King are at least as deeply responsible as the Company. For all measures of foreign

policy the servants of the King, and they alone are responsible. I was surprised to hear the honourable

Gentleman accuse the Directors of insatiable ambition and rapacity, when he must know that no act of

aggression on any native state can be committed by the Company without the sanction of the Board, and that,

in fact, the Board has repeatedly approved of warlike measures which were strenuously opposed by the

Company. He must know, in particular, that, during the energetic and splendid administration of the

Marquess of Wellesley, the company was all for peace, and the Board all for conquest. If a line of conduct

which the honourable Gentleman thinks unjustifiable has been followed by the Ministers of the Crown in

spite of the remonstrances of the Directors, this is surely a strange reason for turning off the Directors, and

The honourable Member tells us that India, under the present system, is not so rich and flourishing as she was

two hundred years ago. Really, Sir, I doubt whether we are in possession of sufficient data to enable us to

form a judgment on that point. But the matter is of little importance. We ought to compare India under our

government, not with India under Acbar and his immediate successors, but with India as we found it. The

calamities through which that country passed during the interval between the fall of the Mogul power and the

establishment of the English supremacy were sufficient to throw the people back whole centuries. It would

surely be unjust to say, that Alfred was a bad king because Britain, under his government, was not so rich or

In what state, then, did we find India? And what have we made India? We found society throughout that vast

country in a state to which history scarcely furnishes a parallel. The nearest parallel would, perhaps, be the

state of Europe during the fifth century. The Mogul empire in the time of the successors of Aurungzebe, like

the Roman empire in the time of the successors of Theodosius, was sinking under the vices of a bad internal

administration, and under the assaults of barbarous invaders. At Delhi, as at Ravenna, there was a mock

sovereign, immured in a gorgeous state prison. He was suffered to indulge in every sensual pleasure. He was

adored with servile prostrations. He assumed and bestowed the most magnificent titles. But, in fact, he was a

mere puppet in the hands of some ambitious subject. While the Honorii and Augustuli of the East, surrounded

by their fawning eunuchs, reveled and dozed without knowing or caring what might pass beyond the walls of

their palace gardens, the provinces had ceased to respect a government which could neither punish nor protect

them. Society was a chaos. Its restless and shifting elements formed themselves every moment into some new

combination, which the next moment dissolved. In the course of a single generation a hundred dynasties grew

up, flourished, decayed, were extinguished, were forgotten. Every adventurer who could muster a troop of

horse might aspire to a throne. Every palace was every year the scene of conspiracies, treasons, revolutions,

parricides. Meanwhile a rapid succession of Alarics and Attilas passed over the defenceless empire. A Persian

invader penetrated to Delhi, and carried back in triumph the most precious treasures of the House of

Tamerlane. The Afghan soon followed by the same track, to glean whatever the Persian had spared. The Jauts

established themselves on the Jumna. The Seiks devastated Lahore. Every part of India, from Tanjore to the

Himalayas, was laid under contribution by the Mahrattas. The people were ground down to the dust by the

oppressor without and the oppressor within, by the robber from whom the Nabob was unable to protect them,

by the Nabob who took whatever the robber had left to them. All the evils of despotism, and all the evils of

anarchy, pressed at once on that miserable race. They knew nothing of government but its exactions.

Desolation was in their imperial cities, and famine all along the banks of their broad and redundant rivers. It

seemed that a few more years would suffice to efface all traces of the opulence and civilisation of an earlier

Such was the state of India when the Company began to take part in the disputes of its ephemeral sovereigns.

About eighty years have elapsed since we appeared as auxiliaries in a contest between two rival families for

the sovereignty of a small corner of the Peninsula. From that moment commenced a great, a stupendous

process, the reconstruction of a decomposed society. Two generations have passed away; and the process is

complete. The scattered fragments of the empire of Aurungzebe have been united in an empire stronger and

more closely knit together than that which Aurungzebe ruled. The power of the new sovereigns penetrates

their dominions more completely, and is far more implicitly obeyed, than was that of the proudest princes of

It is true that the early history of this great revolution is chequered with guilt and shame. It is true that the

founders of our Indian Empire too often abused the strength which they derived from superior energy and

superior knowledge. It is true that, with some of the highest qualities of the race from which they sprang, they

combined some of the worst defects of the race over which they ruled. How should it have been otherwise?

Born in humble stations, accustomed to earn a slender maintenance by obscure industry, they found

themselves transformed in a few months from clerks drudging over desks, or captains in marching regiments,

into statesmen and generals, with armies at their command, with the revenues of kingdoms at their disposal,

with power to make and depose sovereigns at their pleasure. They were what it was natural that men should

be who had been raised by so rapid an ascent to so dizzy an eminence, profuse and rapacious, imperious and

It is true, then, that there was too much foundation for the representations of those satirists and dramatists

who held up the character of the English Nabob to the derision and hatred of a former generation. It is true

that some disgraceful intrigues, some unjust and cruel wars, some instances of odious perfidy and avarice,

stain the annals of our Eastern Empire. It is true that the duties of government and legislation were long

wholly neglected or carelessly performed. It is true that when the conquerors at length began to apply

themselves in earnest to the discharge of their high functions, they committed the errors natural to rulers who

were but imperfectly acquainted with the language and manners of their subjects. It is true that some plans,

which were dictated by the purest and most benevolent feelings have not been attended by the desired

success. It is true that India suffers to this day from a heavy burden of taxation and from a defective system of

law. It is true, I fear, that in those states which are connected with us by subsidiary alliance, all the evils of

oriental despotism have too frequently shown themselves in their most loathsome and destructive form.

All this is true. Yet in the history and in the present state of our Indian Empire I see ample reason for

I see that we have established order where we found confusion. I see that the petty dynasties which were

generated by the corruption of the great Mahometan Empire, and which, a century ago, kept all India in

constant agitation, have been quelled by one overwhelming power. I see that the predatory tribes, which, in

the middle of the last century, passed annually over the harvests of India with the destructive rapidity of a

hurricane, have quailed before the valour of a braver and sterner race, have been vanquished, scattered,

hunted to their strongholds, and either extirpated by the English sword, or compelled to exchange the pursuits

I look back for many years; and I see scarcely a trace of the vices which blemished the splendid fame of the

first conquerors of Bengal. I see peace studiously preserved. I see faith inviolably maintained towards feeble

and dependent states. I see confidence gradually infused into the minds of suspicious neighbours. I see the

horrors of war mitigated by the chivalrous and Christian spirit of Europe. I see examples of moderation and

clemency, such as I should seek in vain in the annals of any other victorious and dominant nation. I see

captive tyrants, whose treachery and cruelty might have excused a severe retribution, living in security,

comfort, and dignity, under the protection of the government which they laboured to destroy.

I see a large body of civil and military functionaries resembling in nothing but capacity and valour those

adventurers who, seventy years ago, came hither, laden with wealth and infamy, to parade before our fathers

the plundered treasures of Bengal and Tanjore. I reflect with pride that to the doubtful splendour which

surrounds the memory of Hastings and of Clive, we can oppose the spotless glory of Elphinstone and Munro.

I contemplate with reverence and delight the honourable poverty which is the evidence of rectitude firmly

maintained amidst strong temptations. I rejoice to see my countrymen, after ruling millions of subjects, after

commanding victorious armies, after dictating terms of peace at the gates of hostile capitals, after

administering the revenues of great provinces, after judging the causes of wealthy Zemindars, after residing at

the courts of tributary Kings, return to their native land with no more than a decent competence.

I see a government anxiously bent on the public good. Even in its errors I recognise a paternal feeling

towards the great people committed to its charge. I see toleration strictly maintained: yet I see bloody and

degrading superstitions gradually losing their power. I see the morality, the philosophy, the taste of Europe,

beginning to produce a salutary effect on the hearts and understandings of our subjects. I see the public mind

of India, that public mind which we found debased and contracted by the worst forms of political and

religious tyranny, expanding itself to just and noble views of the ends of government and of the social duties

I see evils: but I see the government actively employed in the work of remedying those evils. The taxation is

heavy; but the work of retrenchment is unsparingly pursued. The mischiefs arising from the system of

subsidiary alliance are great: but the rulers of India are fully aware of those mischiefs, and are engaged in

guarding against them. Wherever they now interfere for the purpose of supporting a native government, they

Seeing these things, then, am I prepared to discard the Company as an organ of government? I am not.

Assuredly I will never shrink from innovation where I see reason to believe that innovation will be

improvement. That the present Government does not shrink from innovations which it considers as

improvements the bill now before the House sufficiently shows. But surely the burden of the proof lies on the

innovators. They are bound to show that there is a fair probability of obtaining some advantage before they

call upon us to take up the foundations of the Indian government. I have no superstitious veneration for the

Court of Directors or the Court of Proprietors. Find me a better Council: find me a better constituent body:

and I am ready for a change. But of all the substitutes for the Company which have hitherto been suggested,

not one has been proved to be better than the Company; and most of them I could, I think, easily prove to be

worse. Circumstances might force us to hazard a change. If the Company were to refuse to accept of the

government unless we would grant pecuniary terms which I thought extravagant, or unless we gave up the

clauses in this bill which permit Europeans to hold landed property and natives to hold office, I would take

Do I call the government of India a perfect government? Very far from it. No nation can be perfectly well

governed till it is competent to govern itself. I compare the Indian government with other governments of the

same class, with despotisms, with military despotisms, with foreign military despotisms; and I find none that

approaches it in excellence. I compare it with the government of the Roman provinces, with the government

of the Spanish colonies; and I am proud of my country and my age. Here are a hundred millions of people

under the absolute rule of a few strangers, differing from them physically, differing from them morally, mere

Mamelukes, not born in the country which they rule, not meaning to lay their bones in it. If you require me to

make this government as good as that of England, France, or the United States of America, I own frankly that

I can do no such thing. Reasoning a priori, I should have come to the conclusion that such a government must

be a horrible tyranny. It is a source of constant amazement to me that it is so good as I find it to be. I will not,

therefore, in a case in which I have neither principles nor precedents to guide me, pull down the existing

system on account of its theoretical defects. For I know that any system which I could put in its place would

be equally condemned by theory, while it would not be equally sanctioned by experience.

Some change in the constitution of the Company was, as I have shown, rendered inevitable by the opening of

the China Trade; and it was the duty of the Government to take care that the change should not be prejudicial

to India. There were many ways in which the compromise between commerce and territory might have been

effected. We might have taken the assets, and paid a sum down, leaving the Company to invest that sum as

they chose. We might have offered English security with a lower interest. We might have taken the course

which the late ministers designed to take. They would have left the Company in possession of the means of

carrying on its trade in competition with private merchants. My firm belief is that, if this course had been

taken, the Company must, in a very few years, have abandoned the trade, or the trade would have ruined the

Company. It was not, however, solely or principally by regard for the interest of the Company, or of English

merchants generally, that the Government was guided on this occasion. The course which appeared to us the

most likely to promote the interests of our Eastern Empire was to make the proprietors of India stock

creditors of the Indian territory. Their interest will thus be in a great measure the same with the interest of the

people whom they are to rule. Their income will depend on the revenues of their empire. The revenues of

their empire will depend on the manner in which the affairs of that empire are administered. We furnish them

with the strongest motives to watch over the interests of the cultivator and the trader, to maintain peace, to

carry on with vigour the work of retrenchment, to detect and punish extortion and corruption. Though they

live at a distance from India, though few of them have ever seen or may ever see the people whom they rule,

they will have a great stake in the happiness of their subjects. If their misgovernment should produce disorder

in the finances, they will themselves feel the effects of that disorder in their own household expenses. I

believe this to be, next to a representative constitution, the constitution which is the best security for good

government. A representative constitution India cannot at present have. And we have therefore, I think, given

One word as to the new arrangement which we propose with respect to the patronage. It is intended to

introduce the principle of competition in the disposal of writerships; and from this change I cannot but

anticipate the happiest results. The civil servants of the Company are undoubtedly a highly respectable body

of men; and in that body, as in every large body, there are some persons of very eminent ability. I rejoice

most cordially to see this. I rejoice to see that the standard of morality is so high in England, that intelligence

is so generally diffused through England, that young persons who are taken from the mass of society, by

favour and not by merit, and who are therefore only fair samples of the mass, should, when placed in

situations of high importance, be so seldom found wanting. But it is not the less true that India is entitled to

the service of the best talents which England can spare. That the average of intelligence and virtue is very

high in this country is matter for honest exultation. But it is no reason for employing average men where you

can obtain superior men. Consider too, Sir, how rapidly the public mind of India is advancing, how much

attention is already paid by the higher classes of the natives to those intellectual pursuits on the cultivation of

which the superiority of the European race to the rest of mankind principally depends. Surely, in such

circumstances, from motives of selfish policy, if from no higher motive, we ought to fill the magistracies of

our Eastern Empire with men who may do honour to their country, with men who may represent the best part

of the English nation. This, Sir, is our object; and we believe that by the plan which is now proposed this

object will be attained. It is proposed that for every vacancy in the civil service four candidates shall be

named, and the best candidate selected by examination. We conceive that, under this system, the persons sent

out will be young men above par, young men superior either in talents or in diligence to the mass. It is said, I

know, that examinations in Latin, in Greek, and in mathematics, are no tests of what men will prove to be in

life. I am perfectly aware that they are not infallible tests: but that they are tests I confidently maintain. Look

at every walk of life, at this House, at the other House, at the Bar, at the Bench, at the Church, and see

whether it be not true that those who attain high distinction in the world were generally men who were

distinguished in their academic career. Indeed, Sir, this objection would prove far too much even for those

who use it. It would prove that there is no use at all in education. Why should we put boys out of their way?

Why should we force a lad, who would much rather fly a kite or trundle a hoop, to learn his Latin Grammar?

Why should we keep a young man to his Thucydides or his Laplace, when he would much rather be

shooting? Education would be mere useless torture, if, at two or three and twenty, a man who had neglected

his studies were exactly on a par with a man who had applied himself to them, exactly as likely to perform all

the offices of public life with credit to himself and with advantage to society. Whether the English system of

education be good or bad is not now the question. Perhaps I may think that too much time is given to the

ancient languages and to the abstract sciences. But what then? Whatever be the languages, whatever be the

sciences, which it is, in any age or country, the fashion to teach, the persons who become the greatest

proficients in those languages and those sciences will generally be the flower of the youth, the most acute, the

most industrious, the most ambitious of honourable distinctions. If the Ptolemaic system were taught at

Cambridge instead of the Newtonian, the senior wrangler would nevertheless be in general a superior man to

the wooden spoon. If, instead of learning Greek, we learned the Cherokee, the man who understood the

Cherokee best, who made the most correct and melodious Cherokee verses, who comprehended most

accurately the effect of the Cherokee particles, would generally be a superior man to him who was destitute

of these accomplishments. If astrology were taught at our Universities, the young man who cast nativities

best would generally turn out a superior man. If alchymy were taught, the young man who showed most

activity in the pursuit of the philosopher's stone would generally turn out a superior man.

I will only add one other observation on this subject. Although I am inclined to think that too exclusive an

attention is paid in the education of young English gentlemen to the dead languages, I conceive that when you

are choosing men to fill situations for which the very first and most indispensable qualification is familiarity

with foreign languages, it would be difficult to find a better test of their fitness than their classical

Some persons have expressed doubts as to the possibility of procuring fair examinations. I am quite sure that

no person who has been either at Cambridge or at Oxford can entertain such doubts. I feel, indeed, that I

Next to the opening of the China trade, Sir, the change most eagerly demanded by the English people was,

that the restrictions on the admission of Europeans to India should be removed. In this change there are

undoubtedly very great advantages. The chief advantage is, I think, the improvement which the minds of our

native subjects may be expected to derive from free intercourse with a people far advanced beyond

themselves in intellectual cultivation. I cannot deny, however, that the advantages are attended with some

The danger is that the new comers, belonging to the ruling nation, resembling in colour, in language, in

manners, those who hold supreme military and political power, and differing in all these respects from the

great mass of the population, may consider themselves as a superior class, and may trample on the indigenous

race. Hitherto there have been strong restraints on Europeans resident in India. Licences were not easily

obtained. Those residents who were in the service of the Company had obvious motives for conducting

themselves with propriety. If they incurred the serious displeasure of the Government, their hopes of

promotion were blighted. Even those who were not in the public service were subject to the formidable power

The license of the Government will now no longer be necessary to persons who desire to reside in the settled

provinces of India. The power of arbitrary deportation is withdrawn. Unless, therefore, we mean to leave the

natives exposed to the tyranny and insolence of every profligate adventurer who may visit the East, we must

place the European under the same power which legislates for the Hindoo. No man loves political freedom

more than I. But a privilege enjoyed by a few individuals, in the midst of a vast population who do not enjoy

it, ought not to be called freedom. It is tyranny. In the West Indies I have not the least doubt that the existence

of the Trial by Jury and of Legislative Assemblies has tended to make the condition of the slaves worse than

it would otherwise have been. Or, to go to India itself for an instance, though I fully believe that a mild penal

code is better than a severe penal code, the worst of all systems was surely that of having a mild code for the

Brahmins, who sprang from the head of the Creator, while there was a severe code for the Sudras, who

sprang from his feet. India has suffered enough already from the distinction of castes, and from the deeply

rooted prejudices which that distinction has engendered. God forbid that we should inflict on her the curse of

a new caste, that we should send her a new breed of Brahmins, authorised to treat all the native population as

With a view to the prevention of this evil, we propose to give to the Supreme Government the power of

legislating for Europeans as well as for natives. We propose that the regulations of the Government shall bind

the King's Court as they bind all other courts, and that registration by the Judges of the King's Courts shall no

longer be necessary to give validity to those regulations within the towns of Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay.

I could scarcely, Sir, believe my ears when I heard this part of our plan condemned in another place. I should

have thought that it would have been received with peculiar favour in that quarter where it has met with the

most severe condemnation. What, at present, is the case? If the Supreme Court and the Government differ on

a question of jurisdiction, or on a question of legislation within the towns which are the seats of Government,

there is absolutely no umpire but the Imperial Parliament. The device of putting one wild elephant between

two tame elephants was ingenious: but it may not always be practicable. Suppose a tame elephant between

two wild elephants, or suppose that the whole herd should run wild together. The thing is not without

example. And is it not most unjust and ridiculous that, on one side of a ditch, the edict of the Governor

General should have the force of law, and that on the other side it should be of no effect unless registered by

the Judges of the Supreme Court? If the registration be a security for good legislation, we are bound to give

that security to all classes of our subjects. If the registration be not a security for good legislation, why give it

to any? Is the system good? Extend it. Is it bad! Abolish it. But in the name of common sense do not leave it

as it is. It is as absurd as our old law of sanctuary. The law which authorises imprisonment for debt may be

good or bad. But no man in his senses can approve of the ancient system under which a debtor who might be

arrested in Fleet Street was safe as soon as he had scampered into Whitefriars. Just in the same way, doubts

may fairly be entertained about the expediency of allowing four or five persons to make laws for India; but to

allow them to make laws for all India without the Mahratta ditch, and to except Calcutta, is the height of

I say, therefore, that either you must enlarge the power of the Supreme Court, and give it a general veto on

laws, or you must enlarge the power of the Government, and make its regulations binding on all Courts

without distinction. The former course no person has ventured to propose. To the latter course objections

have been made; but objections which to me, I must own, seem altogether frivolous.

It is acknowledged that of late years inconvenience has arisen from the relation in which the Supreme Court

stands to the Government. But, it is said, that Court was originally instituted for the protection of natives

against Europeans. The wise course would therefore be to restore its original character.

Now, Sir, the fact is, that the Supreme Court has never been so mischievous as during the first ten years of its

power, or so respectable as it has lately been. Everybody who knows anything of its early history knows, that,

during a considerable time, it was the terror of Bengal, the scourge of the native population, the screen of

European delinquents, a convenient tool of the Government for all purposes of evil, an insurmountable

obstacle to the Government in all undertakings for the public good; that its proceedings were made up of

pedantry, cruelty, and corruption; that its disputes with the Government were at one time on the point of

breaking up the whole fabric of society; and that a convulsion was averted only by the dexterous policy of

Warren Hastings, who at last bought off the opposition of the Chief Justice for eight thousand pounds a year.

It is notorious that, while the Supreme Court opposed Hastings in all his best measures, it was a

thoroughgoing accomplice in his worst; that it took part in the most scandalous of those proceedings which,

fifty years ago, roused the indignation of Parliament and of the country; that it assisted in the spoliation of the

princesses of Oude; that it passed sentence of death on Nuncomar. And this is the Court which we are to

restore from its present state of degeneracy to its original purity. This is the protection which we are to give to

the natives against the Europeans. Sir, so far is it from being true that the character of the Supreme Court has

deteriorated, that it has, perhaps, improved more than any other institution in India. But the evil lies deep in

the nature of the institution itself. The judges have in our time deserved the greatest respect. Their judgment

and integrity have done much to mitigate the vices of the system. The worst charge that can be brought

against any of them is that of pertinacity, disinterested, conscientious pertinacity, in error. The real evil is the

state of the law. You have two supreme powers in India. There is no arbitrator except a Legislature fifteen

thousand miles off. Such a system is on the face of it an absurdity in politics. My wonder is, not that this

system has several times been on the point of producing fatal consequences to the peace and resources of

India;those, I think, are the words in which Warren Hastings described the effect of the contest between

his Government and the Judges;but that it has not actually produced such consequences. The most

distinguished members of the Indian Government, the most distinguished Judges of the Supreme Court, call

upon you to reform this system. Sir Charles Metcalfe, Sir Charles Grey, represent with equal urgency the

expediency of having one single paramount council armed with legislative power. The admission of

Europeans to India renders it absolutely necessary not to delay our decision. The effect of that admission

would be to raise a hundred questions, to produce a hundred contests between the Council and the judicature.

The Government would be paralysed at the precise moment at which all its energy was required. While the

two equal powers were acting in opposite directions, the whole machine of the state would stand still. The

Europeans would be uncontrolled. The natives would be unprotected. The consequences I will not pretend to

Having given to the Government supreme legislative power, we next propose to give to it for a time the

assistance of a commission for the purpose of digesting and reforming the laws of India, so that those laws

may, as soon as possible, be formed into a Code. Gentleman of whom I wish to speak with the highest respect

have expressed a doubt whether India be at present in a fit state to receive a benefit which is not yet enjoyed

by this free and highly civilised country. Sir, I can allow to this argument very little weight beyond that

which it derives from the personal authority of those who use it. For, in the first place, our freedom and our

high civilisation make this improvement, desirable as it must always be, less indispensably necessary to us

than to our Indian subjects; and in the next place, our freedom and civilisation, I fear, make it far more

difficult for us to obtain this benefit for ourselves than to bestow it on them.

I believe that no country ever stood so much in need of a code of laws as India; and I believe also that there

never was a country in which the want might so easily be supplied. I said that there were many points of

analogy between the state of that country after the fall of the Mogul power, and the state of Europe after the

fall of the Roman empire. In one respect the analogy is very striking. As there were in Europe then, so there

are in India now, several systems of law widely differing from each other, but coexisting and coequal. The

indigenous population has its own laws. Each of the successive races of conquerors has brought with it its

own peculiar jurisprudence: the Mussulman his Koran and the innumerable commentators on the Koran; the

Englishman his Statute Book and his Term Reports. As there were established in Italy, at one and the same

time, the Roman Law, the Lombard law, the Ripuarian law, the Bavarian law, and the Salic law, so we have

now in our Eastern empire Hindoo law, Mahometan law, Parsee law, English law, perpetually mingling with

each other and disturbing each other, varying with the person, varying with the place. In one and the same

cause the process and pleadings are in the fashion of one nation, the judgment is according to the laws of

another. An issue is evolved according to the rules of Westminster, and decided according to those of

Benares. The only Mahometan book in the nature of a code is the Koran; the only Hindoo book, the

Institutes. Everybody who knows those books knows that they provide for a very small part of the cases

which must arise in every community. All beyond them is comment and tradition. Our regulations in civil

matters do not define rights, but merely establish remedies. If a point of Hindoo law arises, the Judge calls on

the Pundit for an opinion. If a point of Mahometan law arises, the Judge applies to the Cauzee. What the

integrity of these functionaries is, we may learn from Sir William Jones. That eminent man declared that he

could not answer it to his conscience to decide any point of law on the faith of a Hindoo expositor. Sir

Thomas Strange confirms this declaration. Even if there were no suspicion of corruption on the part of the

interpreters of the law, the science which they profess is in such a state of confusion that no reliance can be

placed on their answers. Sir Francis Macnaghten tells us, that it is a delusion to fancy that there is any known

and fixed law under which the Hindoo people live; that texts may be produced on any side of any question;

that expositors equal in authority perpetually contradict each other: that the obsolete law is perpetually

confounded with the law actually in force; and that the first lesson to be impressed on a functionary who has

to administer Hindoo law is that it is vain to think of extracting certainty from the books of the jurist. The

consequence is that in practice the decisions of the tribunals are altogether arbitrary. What is administered is

not law, but a kind of rude and capricious equity. I asked an able and excellent judge lately returned from

India how one of our Zillah Courts would decide several legal questions of great importance, questions not

involving considerations of religion or of caste, mere questions of commercial law. He told me that it was a

mere lottery. He knew how he should himself decide them. But he knew nothing more. I asked a most

distinguished civil servant of the Company, with reference to the clause in this Bill on the subject of slavery,

whether at present, if a dancing girl ran away from her master, the judge would force her to go back. "Some

judges," he said, "send a girl back. Others set her at liberty. The whole is a mere matter of chance. Everything

Even in this country we have had complaints of judgemade law; even in this country, where the standard of

morality is higher than in almost any other part of the world; where, during several generations, not one

depositary of our legal traditions has incurred the suspicion of personal corruption; where there are popular

institutions; where every decision is watched by a shrewd and learned audience; where there is an intelligent

and observant public; where every remarkable case is fully reported in a hundred newspapers; where, in

short, there is everything which can mitigate the evils of such a system. But judgemade law, where there is

an absolute government and a lax morality, where there is no bar and no public, is a curse and a scandal not

to be endured. It is time that the magistrate should know what law he is to administer, that the subject should

know under what law he is to live. We do not mean that all the people of India should live under the same

law: far from it: there is not a word in the bill, there was not a word in my right honourable friend's speech,

susceptible of such an interpretation. We know how desirable that object is; but we also know that it is

unattainable. We know that respect must be paid to feelings generated by differences of religion, of nation,

and of caste. Much, I am persuaded, may be done to assimilate the different systems of law without wounding

those feelings. But, whether we assimilate those systems or not, let us ascertain them; let us digest them. We

propose no rash innovation; we wish to give no shock to the prejudices of any part of our subjects. Our

principle is simply this; uniformity where you can have it: diversity where you must have it; but in all cases

As I believe that India stands more in need of a code than any other country in the world, I believe also that

there is no country on which that great benefit can more easily be conferred. A code is almost the only

blessing, perhaps is the only blessing, which absolute governments are better fitted to confer on a nation than

popular governments. The work of digesting a vast and artificial system of unwritten jurisprudence is far

more easily performed, and far better performed, by few minds than by many, by a Napoleon than by a

Chamber of Deputies and a Chamber of Peers, by a government like that of Prussia or Denmark than by a

government like that of England. A quiet knot of two or three veteran jurists is an infinitely better machinery

for such a purpose than a large popular assembly divided, as such assemblies almost always are, into adverse

factions. This seems to me, therefore, to be precisely that point of time at which the advantage of a complete

written code of laws may most easily be conferred on India. It is a work which cannot be well performed in

an age of barbarism, which cannot without great difficulty be performed in an age of freedom. It is a work

which especially belongs to a government like that of India, to an enlightened and paternal despotism.

I have detained the House so long, Sir, that I will defer what I had to say on some parts of this measure,

important parts, indeed, but far less important, as I think, than those to which I have adverted, till we are in

Committee. There is, however, one part of the bill on which, after what has recently passed elsewhere, I feel

myself irresistibly impelled to say a few words. I allude to that wise, that benevolent, that noble clause which

enacts that no native of our Indian empire shall, by reason of his colour, his descent, or his religion, be

incapable of holding office. At the risk of being called by that nickname which is regarded as the most

opprobrious of all nicknames by men of selfish hearts and contracted minds, at the risk of being called a

philosopher, I must say that, to the last day of my life, I shall be proud of having been one of those who

assisted in the framing of the bill which contains that clause. We are told that the time can never come when

the natives of India can be admitted to high civil and military office. We are told that this is the condition on

which we hold our power. We are told that we are bound to confer on our subjects every benefitwhich they

are capable of enjoying?no;which it is in our power to confer on them?no;but which we can confer

on them without hazard to the perpetuity of our own domination. Against that proposition I solemnly protest

I am far, very far, from wishing to proceed hastily in this most delicate matter. I feel that, for the good of

India itself, the admission of natives to high office must be effected by slow degrees. But that, when the

fulness of time is come, when the interest of India requires the change, we ought to refuse to make that

change lest we should endanger our own power, this is a doctrine of which I cannot think without

indignation. Governments, like men, may buy existence too dear. "Propter vitam vivendi perdere causas," is a

despicable policy both in individuals and in states. In the present case, such a policy would be not only

despicable, but absurd. The mere extent of empire is not necessarily an advantage. To many governments it

has been cumbersome; to some it has been fatal. It will be allowed by every statesman of our time that the

prosperity of a community is made up of the prosperity of those who compose the community, and that it is

the most childish ambition to covet dominion which adds to no man's comfort or security. To the great

trading nation, to the great manufacturing nation, no progress which any portion of the human race can make

in knowledge, in taste for the conveniences of life, or in the wealth by which those conveniences are

produced, can be matter of indifference. It is scarcely possible to calculate the benefits which we might derive

from the diffusion of European civilisation among the vast population of the East. It would be, on the most

selfish view of the case, far better for us that the people of India were well governed and independent of us,

than ill governed and subject to us; that they were ruled by their own kings, but wearing our broadcloth, and

working with our cutlery, than that they were performing their salams to English collectors and English

magistrates, but were too ignorant to value, or too poor to buy, English manufactures. To trade with civilised

men is infinitely more profitable than to govern savages. That would, indeed, be a doting wisdom, which, in

order that India might remain a dependency, would make it an useless and costly dependency, which would

keep a hundred millions of men from being our customers in order that they might continue to be our slaves.

It was, as Bernier tells us, the practice of the miserable tyrants whom he found in India, when they dreaded

the capacity and spirit of some distinguished subject, and yet could not venture to murder him, to administer

to him a daily dose of the pousta, a preparation of opium, the effect of which was in a few months to destroy

all the bodily and mental powers of the wretch who was drugged with it, and to turn him into a helpless idiot.

The detestable artifice, more horrible than assassination itself, was worthy of those who employed it. It is no

model for the English nation. We shall never consent to administer the pousta to a whole community, to

stupefy and paralyse a great people whom God has committed to our charge, for the wretched purpose of

rendering them more amenable to our control. What is power worth if it is founded on vice, on ignorance, and

on misery; if we can hold it only by violating the most sacred duties which as governors we owe to the

governed, and which, as a people blessed with far more than an ordinary measure of political liberty and of

intellectual light, we owe to a race debased by three thousand years of despotism and priestcraft? We are free,

we are civilised, to little purpose, if we grudge to any portion of the human race an equal measure of freedom

Are we to keep the people of India ignorant in order that we may keep them submissive? Or do we think that

we can give them knowledge without awakening ambition? Or do we mean to awaken ambition and to

provide it with no legitimate vent? Who will answer any of these questions in the affirmative? Yet one of

them must be answered in the affirmative, by every person who maintains that we ought permanently to

exclude the natives from high office. I have no fears. The path of duty is plain before us: and it is also the

The destinies of our Indian empire are covered with thick darkness. It is difficult to form any conjecture as to

the fate reserved for a state which resembles no other in history, and which forms by itself a separate class of

political phenomena. The laws which regulate its growth and its decay are still unknown to us. It may be that

the public mind of India may expand under our system till it has outgrown that system; that by good

government we may educate our subjects into a capacity for better government; that, having become

instructed in European knowledge, they may, in some future age, demand European institutions. Whether

such a day will ever come I know not. But never will I attempt to avert or to retard it. Whenever it comes, it

will be the proudest day in English history. To have found a great people sunk in the lowest depths of slavery

and superstition, to have so ruled them as to have made them desirous and capable of all the privileges of

citizens, would indeed be a title to glory all our own. The sceptre may pass away from us. Unforeseen

accidents may derange our most profound schemes of policy. Victory may be inconstant to our arms. But

there are triumphs which are followed by no reverse. There is an empire exempt from all natural causes of

decay. Those triumphs are the pacific triumphs of reason over barbarism; that empire is the imperishable

The elevation of Mr Abercromby to the peerage in May 1839, caused a vacancy in the representation of the

city of Edinburgh. A meeting of the electors was called to consider of the manner in which the vacancy

My Lord Provost and Gentlemen,At the request of a very large and respectable portion of your body, I

appear before you as a candidate for a high and solemn trust, which, uninvited, I should have thought it

presumption to solicit, but which, thus invited, I should think it cowardice to decline. If I had felt myself

justified in following my own inclinations, I am not sure that even a summons so honourable as that which I

have received would have been sufficient to draw me away from pursuits far better suited to my taste and

temper than the turmoil of political warfare. But I feel that my lot is cast in times in which no man is free to

judge, merely according to his own taste and temper, whether he will devote himself to active or to

contemplative life; in times in which society has a right to demand, from every one of its members, active and

strenuous exertions. I have, therefore, obeyed your call; and I now present myself before you for the purpose

of offering to you, not, what I am sure you would reject with disdain, flattery, degrading alike to a candidate,

and to a constituent body; but such reasonable, candid, and manly explanations as become the mouth of a free

It is hardly necessary for me to say that I stand here unconnected with this great community. It would be mere

affectation not to acknowledge that with respect to local questions I have much to learn; but I hope that you

will find in me no sluggish or inattentive learner. From an early age I have felt a strong interest in Edinburgh,

although attached to Edinburgh by no other ties than those which are common to me with multitudes; that tie

which attaches every man of Scottish blood to the ancient and renowned capital of our race; that tie which

attaches every student of history to the spot ennobled by so many great and memorable events; that tie which

attaches every traveller of taste to the most beautiful of British cities; and that tie which attaches every lover

of literature to a place which, since it has ceased to be the seat of empire, has derived from poetry,

philosophy, and eloquence a far higher distinction than empire can bestow. If to those ties it shall now be

your pleasure to add a tie still closer and more peculiar, I can only assure you that it shall be the study of my

life so to conduct myself in these our troubled times that you may have no reason to be ashamed of your

Those gentlemen who invited me to appear as a candidate before you were doubtless acquainted with the part

which I took in public affairs during the three first Parliaments of the late King. Circumstances have since

that time undergone great alteration; but no alteration has taken place in my principles. I do not mean to say

that thought, discussion, and the new phenomena produced by the operation of a new representative system,

have not led me to modify some of my views on questions of detail; but, with respect to the fundamental

principles of government, my opinions are still what they were when, in 1831 and 1832, I took part,

according to the measure of my abilities, in that great pacific victory which purified the representative system

of England, and which first gave a real representative system to Scotland. Even at that time, Gentlemen, the

leaning of my mind was in favour of one measure to which the illustrious leader of the Whig party, whose

name ought never to be mentioned without gratitude and reverence in any assembly of British electors, I

mean Earl Grey, was understood to entertain strong objections, and to which his Cabinet, as a Cabinet, was

invariably opposed. I speak of the vote by ballot. All that has passed since that time confirms me in the view

which I was then inclined to take of that important question. At the same time I do not think that all the

advantages are on one side and all the disadvantages on the other. I must admit that the effect of the practice

of secret voting would be to withdraw the voter from the operation of some salutary and honourable, as well

as of some pernicious and degrading motives. But seeing, as I cannot help seeing, that the practice of

intimidation, instead of diminishing, is gaining ground, I am compelled to consider whether the time has not

arrived when we are bound to apply what seems the only efficient remedy. And I am compelled to consider

whether, in doing so, I am not strictly following the principles of the Reform Bill to the legitimate

conclusions. For surely those who supported the Reform Bill intended to give the people of Britain a reality,

not a delusion; to destroy nomination, and not to make an outward show of destroying it; to bestow the

franchise, and not the name of the franchise; and least of all, to give suffering and humiliation under the name

of the franchise. If men are to be returned to Parliament, not by popular election, but by nomination, then I

say without hesitation that the ancient system was much the best. Both systems alike sent men to Parliament

who were not freely chosen by independent constituent bodies: but under the old system there was little or no

need of intimidation, while, under the new system, we have the misery and disgrace produced by intimidation

added to the process. If, therefore, we are to have nomination, I prefer the nomination which used to take

place at Old Sarum to the nomination which now takes place at Newark. In both cases you have members

returned at the will of one landed proprietor: but at Newark you have two hundred ejectments into the

bargain, to say nothing of the mortification and remorse endured by all those who, though they were not

There is perhaps no point on which good men of all parties are more completely agreed than on the necessity

of restraining and punishing corruption in the election of Members of Parliament. The evils of corruption are

doubtless very great; but it appears to me that those evils which are attributed to corruption may, with equal

justice, be attributed to intimidation, and that intimidation produces also some monstrous evils with which

corruption cannot be reproached. In both cases alike the elector commits a breach of trust. In both cases alike

he employs for his own advantage an important power which was confided to him, that it might be used, to

the best of his judgment, for the general good of the community. Thus far corruption and intimidation operate

in the same manner. But there is this difference betwixt the two systems; corruption operates by giving

pleasure, intimidation by giving pain. To give a poor man five pounds causes no pain: on the contrary it

produces pleasure. It is in itself no bad act: indeed, if the five pounds were given on another occasion, and

without a corrupt object, it might pass for a benevolent act. But to tell a man that you will reduce him to a

situation in which he will miss his former comforts, and in which his family will be forced to beg their bread,

is a cruel act. Corruption has a sort of illegitimate relationship to benevolence, and engenders some feelings

of a cordial and friendly nature. There is a notion of charity connected with the distribution of the money of

the rich among the needy, even in a corrupt manner. The comic writer who tells us that the whole system of

corruption is to be considered as a commerce of generosity on one side and of gratitude on the other, has

rather exaggerated than misrepresented what really takes place in many of these English constituent bodies

where money is lavished to conciliate the favour and obtain the suffrages of the people. But in intimidation

the whole process is an odious one. The whole feeling on the part of the elector is that of shame, degradation,

and hatred of the person to whom he has given his vote. The elector is indeed placed in a worse situation than

if he had no vote at all; for there is not one of us who would not rather be without a vote than be compelled to

Thinking, therefore, that the practice of intimidation has all the evils which are to be found in corruption, and

that it has other evils which are not to be found in corruption, I was naturally led to consider whether it was

possible to prevent it by any process similar to that by which corruption is restrained. Corruption, you all

know, is the subject of penal laws. If it is brought home to the parties, they are liable to severe punishment.

Although it is not often that it can be brought home, yet there are instances. I remember several men of large

property confined in Newgate for corruption. Penalties have been awarded against offenders to the amount of

five hundred pounds. Many members of Parliament have been unseated on account of the malpractices of

their agents. But you cannot, I am afraid, repress intimidation by penal laws. Such laws would infringe the

most sacred rights of property. How can I require a man to deal with tradesmen who have voted against him,

or to renew the leases of tenants who have voted against him? What is it that the Jew says in the play?

Or, as a Christian of our own time has expressed himself, "I have a right to do what I will with my own."

There is a great deal of weight in the reasoning of Shylock and the Duke of Newcastle. There would be an

end of the right of property if you were to interdict a landlord from ejecting a tenant, if you were to force a

gentleman to employ a particular butcher, and to take as much beef this year as last year. The principle of the

right of property is that a man is not only to be allowed to dispose of his wealth rationally and usefully, but to

be allowed to indulge his passions and caprices, to employ whatever tradesmen and labourers he chooses, and

to let, or refuse to let, his land according to his own pleasure, without giving any reason or asking anybody's

leave. I remember that, on one of the first evenings on which I sate in the House of Commons, Mr Poulett

Thompson proposed a censure on the Duke of Newcastle for His Grace's conduct towards the electors of

Newark. Sir Robert Peel opposed the motion, not only with considerable ability, but with really unanswerable

reasons. He asked if it was meant that a tenant who voted against his landlord was to keep his lease for ever.

If so, tenants would vote against a landlord to secure themselves, as they now vote with a landlord to secure

themselves. I thought, and think, this argument unanswerable; but then it is unanswerable in favour of the

ballot; for, if it be impossible to deal with intimidation by punishment, you are bound to consider whether

there be any means of prevention; and the only mode of prevention that has ever been suggested is the ballot.

That the ballot has disadvantages to be set off against its advantages, I admit; but it appears to me that we

have only a choice of evils, and that the evils for which the ballot is a specific remedy are greater than any

which the ballot is likely to produce. Observe with what exquisite accuracy the ballot draws the line of

distinction between the power which we ought to give to the proprietor and the power which we ought not to

give him. It leaves the proprietor the absolute power to do what he will with his own. Nobody calls upon him

to say why he ejected this tenant, or took away his custom from that tradesman. It leaves him at liberty to

follow his own tastes, to follow his strangest whims. The only thing which it puts beyond his power is the

vote of the tenant, the vote of the tradesman, which it is our duty to protect. I ought at the same time to say,

that there is one objection to the ballot of a very serious nature, but which I think may, nevertheless, be

obviated. It is quite clear that, if the ballot shall be adopted, there will be no remedy for an undue return by a

subsequent scrutiny. Unless, therefore, the registration of votes can be counted on as correct, the ballot will

undoubtedly lead to great inconvenience. It seems, therefore, that a careful revision of the whole system of

registration, and an improvement of the tribunal before which the rights of the electors are to be established,

should be an inseparable part of any measure by which the ballot is to be introduced.

As to those evils which we have been considering, they are evils which are practically felt; they are evils

which press hard upon a large portion of the constituent body; and it is not therefore strange, that the cry for a

remedy should be loud and urgent. But there is another subject respecting which I am told that many among

you are anxious, a subject of a very different description. I allude to the duration of Parliaments.

It must be admitted that for some years past we have had little reason to complain of the length of

Parliaments. Since the year 1830 we have had five general elections; two occasioned by the deaths of two

Sovereigns, and three by political conjunctures. As to the present Parliament, I do not think that, whatever

opinion gentlemen may entertain of the conduct of that body, they will impute its faults to any confidence

which the members have that they are to sit for seven years; for I very much question whether there be one

gentleman in the House of Commons who thinks, or has ever thought, that his seat is worth three years'

purchase. When, therefore, we discuss this question, we must remember that we are discussing a question not

immediately pressing. I freely admit, however, that this is no reason for not fairly considering the subject: for

it is the part of wise men to provide against evils which, though not actually felt, may be reasonably

apprehended. It seems to me that here, as in the case of the ballot, there are serious considerations to be urged

on both sides. The objections to long Parliaments are perfectly obvious. The truth is that, in very long

Parliaments, you have no representation at all. The mind of the people goes on changing; and the Parliament,

remaining unchanged, ceases to reflect the opinion of the constituent bodies. In the old times before the

Revolution, a Parliament might sit during the life of the monarch. Parliaments were then sometimes of

eighteen or twenty years' duration. Thus the Parliament called by Charles the Second soon after his return

from exile, and elected when the nation was drunk with hope and convulsed by a hysterical paroxysm of

loyalty, continued to sit long after twothirds of those who had heartily welcomed the King back from

Holland as heartily wished him in Holland again. Since the Revolution we have not felt that evil to the same

extent: but it must be admitted that the term of seven years is too long. There are, however, other

considerations to set off against this. There are two very serious evils connected with every general election:

the first is, the violent political excitement: the second is, the ruinous expense. Both these evils were very

greatly diminished by the Reform Act. Formerly these were things which you in Scotland knew nothing

about; but in England the injury to the peace and morals of society resulting from a general election was

incalculable. During a fifteen days' poll in a town of one hundred thousand inhabitants, money was flowing in

all directions; the streets were running with beer; all business was suspended; and there was nothing but

disturbance and riot, and slander, and calumny, and quarrels, which left in the bosoms of private families

heartburnings such as were not extinguished in the course of many years. By limiting the duration of the poll,

the Reform Act has conferred as great a blessing on the country, and that is saying a bold word,as by

any other provision which it contains. Still it is not to be denied that there are evils inseparable from that state

of political excitement into which every community is thrown by the preparations for an election. A still

greater evil is the expense. That evil too has been diminished by the operation of the Reform Act; but it still

exists to a considerable extent. We do not now indeed hear of such elections as that of Yorkshire in 1807, or

that of Northumberland in 1827. We do not hear of elections that cost two hundred thousand pounds. But that

the tenth part of that sum, nay, that the hundredth part of that sum should be expended in a contest, is a great

evil. Do not imagine, Gentlemen, that all this evil falls on the candidates. It is on you that the evil falls. The

effect must necessarily be to limit you in your choice of able men to serve you. The number of men who can

advance fifty thousand pounds is necessarily much smaller than the number of men who can advance five

thousand pounds; the number of these again is much smaller than the number of those who can advance five

hundred pounds; and the number of men who can advance five hundred pounds every three years is

necessarily smaller than the number of those who can advance five hundred pounds every seven years.

Therefore it seems to me that the question is one of comparison. In long Parliaments the representative

character is in some measure effaced. On the other side, if you have short Parliaments, your choice of men

will be limited. Now in all questions of this sort, it is the part of wisdom to weigh, not indeed with minute

accuracy,for questions of civil prudence cannot be subjected to an arithmetical test,but to weigh the

advantages and disadvantages carefully, and then to strike the balance. Gentlemen will probably judge

according to their habits of mind, and according to their opportunities of observation. Those who have seen

much of the evils of elections will probably incline to long Parliaments; those who have seen little or nothing

of these evils will probably incline to a short term. Only observe this, that, whatever may be the legal term, it

ought to be a year longer than that for which Parliaments ought ordinarily to sit. For there must be a general

election at the end of the legal term, let the state of the country be what it may. There may be riot; there may

be revolution; there may be famine in the country; and yet if the Minister wait to the end of the legal term, the

writs must go out. A wise Minister will therefore always dissolve the Parliament a year before the end of the

legal term, if the country be then in a quiet state. It has now been long the practice not to keep a Parliament

more than six years. Thus the Parliament which was elected in 1784 sat till 1790, six years; the Parliament of

1790 till 1796, the Parliament of 1796 to 1802, the Parliament of 1812 to 1818, and the Parliament of 1820

till 1826. If, therefore, you wish the duration of Parliaments to be shortened to three years, the proper course

would be to fix the legal term at four years; and if you wish them to sit for four years, the proper course

would be to fix the legal term at five years. My own inclination would be to fix the legal term at five years,

and thus to have a Parliament practically every four years. I ought to add that, whenever any shortening of

Parliament takes place, we ought to alter that rule which requires that Parliament shall be dissolved as often

as the demise of the Crown takes place. It is a rule for which no statesmanlike reason can be given; it is a

mere technical rule; and it has already been so much relaxed that, even considered as a technical rule, it is

I come now to another subject, of the highest and gravest importance: I mean the elective franchise; and I

acknowledge that I am doubtful whether my opinions on this subject may be so pleasing to many here present

as, if I may judge from your expressions, my sentiments on other subjects have been. I shall express my

opinions, however, on this subject as frankly as I have expressed them when they may have been more

pleasing. I shall express them with the frankness of a man who is more desirous to gain your esteem than to

gain your votes. I am for the original principle of the Reform Bill. I think that principle excellent; and I am

sorry that we ever deviated from it. There were two deviations to which I was strongly opposed, and to which

the authors of the bill, hard pressed by their opponents and feebly supported by their friends, very unwillingly

consented. One was the admission of the freemen to vote in towns: the other was the admission of the fifty

pound tenants at will to vote in counties. At the same time I must say that I despair of being able to apply a

direct remedy to either of these evils. The ballot might perhaps be an indirect remedy for the latter. I think

that the system of registration should be amended, that the clauses relating to the payment of rates should be

altered, or altogether removed, and that the elective franchise should be extended to every ten pound

householder, whether he resides within or without the limits of a town. To this extent I am prepared to go; but

I should not be dealing with the ingenuousness which you have a right to expect, if I did not tell you that I am

not prepared to go further. There are many other questions as to which you are entitled to know the opinions

of your representative: but I shall only glance rapidly at the most important. I have ever been a most

determined enemy to the slave trade, and to personal slavery under every form. I have always been a friend to

popular education. I have always been a friend to the right of free discussion. I have always been adverse to

all restrictions on trade, and especially to those restrictions which affect the price of the necessaries of life. I

have always been adverse to religious persecution, whether it takes the form of direct penal laws, or of civil

Now, having said so much upon measures, I hope you will permit me to say something about men. If you

send me as your representative to Parliament, I wish you to understand that I shall go there determined to

support the present ministry. I shall do so not from any personal interest or feeling. I have certainly the

happiness to have several kind and much valued friends among the members of the Government; and there is

one member of the Government, the noble President of the Council, to whom I owe obligations which I shall

always be proud to avow. That noble Lord, when I was utterly unknown in public life, and scarcely known

even to himself, placed me in the House of Commons; and it is due to him to say that he never in the least

interfered with the freedom of my parliamentary conduct. I have since represented a great constituent body,

for whose confidence and kindness I can never be sufficiently grateful, I mean the populous borough of

Leeds. I may possibly by your kindness be placed in the proud situation of Representative of Edinburgh; but I

never could and never can be a more independent Member of the House of Commons than when I sat there as

the nominee of Lord Lansdowne. But, while I acknowledge my obligations to that noble person, while I avow

the friendship which I feel for many of his colleagues, it is not on such grounds that I vindicate the support

which it is my intention to give them. I have no right to sacrifice your interests to my personal or private

feelings: my principles do not permit me to do so; nor do my friends expect that I should do so. The support

which I propose to give to the present Ministry I shall give on the following grounds. I believe the present

Ministry to be by many degrees the best Ministry which, in the present state of the country, can be formed. I

believe that we have only one choice. I believe that our choice is between a Ministry substantially,for of

course I do not speak of particular individuals,between a Ministry substantially the same that we have, and

a Ministry under the direction of the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel. I do not hesitate to pronounce

that my choice is in favour of the former. Some gentleman appears to dissent from what I say. If I knew what

his objections are, I would try to remove them. But it is impossible to answer inarticulate noises. Is the

objection that the government is too conservative? Or is the objection that the government is too radical? If I

understand rightly, the objection is that the Government does not proceed vigorously enough in the work of

Reform. To that objection then I will address myself. Now, I am far from denying that the Ministers have

committed faults. But, at the same time, I make allowances for the difficulties with which they are

contending; and having made these allowances, I confidently say that, when I look back at the past, I think

them entitled to praise, and that, looking forward to the future, I can pronounce with still more confidence

It is a common error, and one which I have found among men, not only intelligent, but much conversant in

public business, to think that in politics, legislation is everything and administration nothing. Nothing is more

usual than to hear people say, "What! another session gone and nothing done; no new bills passed; the Irish

Municipal Bill stopped in the House of Lords. How could we be worse off if the Tories were in?" My answer

is that, if the Tories were in, our legislation would be in as bad a state as at present, and we should have a bad

administration into the bargain. It seems strange to me that gentlemen should not be aware that it may be

better to have unreformed laws administered in a reforming spirit, than reformed laws administered in a spirit

hostile to all reform. We often hear the maxim, "Measures not men," and there is a sense in which it is an

excellent maxim. Measures not men, certainly: that is, we are not to oppose Sir Robert Peel simply because

he is Sir Robert Peel, or to support Lord John Russell simply because he is Lord John Russell. We are not to

follow our political leaders in the way in which my honest Highland ancestors followed their chieftains. We

are not to imitate that blind devotion which led all the Campbells to take the side of George the Second

because the Duke of Argyle was a Whig, and all the Camerons to take the side of the Stuarts because Lochiel

was a Jacobite. But if you mean that, while the laws remain the same, it is unimportant by whom they are

administered, then I say that a doctrine more absurd was never uttered. Why, what are laws? They are mere

words; they are a dead letter; till a living agent comes to put life into them. This is the case even in judicial

matters. You can tie up the judges of the land much more closely than it would be right to tie up the Secretary

for the Home Department or the Secretary for Foreign Affairs. Yet is it immaterial whether the laws be

administered by Chief Justice Hale or Chief Justice Jeffreys? And can you doubt that the case is still stronger

when you come to political questions? It would be perfectly easy, as many of you must be aware, to point out

instances in which society has prospered under defective laws, well administered, and other instances in

which society has been miserable under institutions that looked well on paper. But we need not go beyond

our own country and our own times. Let us see what, within this island and in the present year, a good

administration has done to mitigate bad laws. For example, let us take the law of libel. I hold the present state

of our law of libel to be a scandal to a civilised community. Nothing more absurd can be found in the whole

history of jurisprudence. How the law of libel was abused formerly, you all know. You all know how it was

abused under the administrations of Lord North, of Mr Pitt, of Mr Perceval, of the Earl of Liverpool; and I am

sorry to say that it was abused, most unjustifiably abused, by Lord Abinger under the administration of the

Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel. Now is there any person who will pretend to say that it has ever

been abused by the Government of Lord Melbourne? That Government has enemies in abundance; it has

been attacked by Tory malcontents and by Radical malcontents; but has any one of them ever had the

effrontery to say that it has abused the power of filing ex officio informations for libel? Has this been from

want of provocation? On the contrary, the present Government has been libelled in a way in which no

Government was ever libelled before. Has the law been altered? Has it been modified? Not at all. We have

exactly the same laws that we had when Mr Perry was brought to trial for saying that George the Third was

unpopular, Mr Leigh Hunt for saying that George the Fourth was fat, and Sir Francis Burdett for expressing,

not perhaps in the best taste, a natural and honest indignation at the slaughter which took place at Manchester

in 1819. The law is precisely the same; but if it had been entirely remodelled, political writers could not have

I have given you an instance of the power of a good administration to mitigate a bad law. Now, see how

necessary it is that there should be a good administration to carry a good law into effect. An excellent bill was

brought into the House of Commons by Lord John Russell in 1828, and passed. To any other man than Lord

John Russell the carrying of such a bill would have been an enviable distinction indeed; but his name is

identified with still greater reforms. It will, however, always be accounted one of his titles to public gratitude

that he was the author of the law which repealed the Test Act. Well, a short time since, a noble peer, the Lord

Lieutenant of the county of Nottingham, thought fit to reenact the Test Act, so far as that county was

concerned. I have already mentioned His Grace the Duke of Newcastle, and, to say truth, there is no life

richer in illustrations of all forms and branches of misgovernment than his. His Grace very coolly informed

Her Majesty's Ministers that he had not recommended a certain gentleman for the commission of the peace

because the gentleman was a Dissenter. Now here is a law which admits Dissenters to offices; and a Tory

nobleman takes it on himself to rescind that law. But happily we have Whig Ministers. What did they do?

Why, they put the Dissenter into the Commission; and they turned the Tory nobleman out of the Lieutenancy.

Do you seriously imagine that under a Tory administration this would have been done? I have no wish to say

anything disrespectful of the great Tory leaders. I shall always speak with respect of the great qualities and

public services of the Duke of Wellington: I have no other feeling about him than one of pride that my

country has produced so great a man; nor do I feel anything but respect and kindness for Sir Robert Peel, of

whose abilities no person that has had to encounter him in debate will ever speak slightingly. I do not imagine

that those eminent men would have approved of the conduct of the Duke of Newcastle. I believe that the

Duke of Wellington would as soon have thought of running away from the field of battle as of doing the same

thing in Hampshire, where he is Lord Lieutenant. But do you believe that he would have turned the Duke of

Newcastle out? I believe that he would not. As Mr Pulteney, a great political leader, said a hundred years

since, "The heads of parties are, like the heads of snakes, carried on by the tails." It would have been utterly

impossible for the Tory Ministers to have discarded the powerful Tory Duke, unless they had at the same

time resolved, like Mr Canning in 1827, to throw themselves for support on the Whigs.

Now I have given you these two instances to show that a change in the administration may produce all the

effects of a change in the law. You see that to have a Tory Government is virtually to re enact the Test Act,

and that to have a Whig Government is virtually to repeal the law of libel. And if this is the case in England

and Scotland, where society is in a sound state, how much more must it be the case in the diseased part of the

empire, in Ireland? Ask any man there, whatever may be his religion, whatever may be his politics,

Churchman, Presbyterian, Roman Catholic, Repealer, Precursor, Orangeman, ask Mr O'Connell, ask Colonel

Conolly, whether it is a slight matter in whose hands the executive power is lodged. Every Irishman will tell

you that it is a matter of life and death; that in fact more depends upon the men than upon the laws. It disgusts

me therefore to hear men of liberal politics say, "What is the use of a Whig Government? The Ministers can

do nothing for the country. They have been four years at work on an Irish Municipal Bill, without being able

to pass it through the Lords." Would any ten Acts of Parliament make such a difference to Ireland as the

difference between having Lord Ebrington for Lord Lieutenant, with Lord Morpeth for Secretary, and having

the Earl of Roden for Lord Lieutenant, with Mr Lefroy for Secretary? Ask the popular Irish leaders whether

they would like better to remain as they are, with Lord Ebrington as Lord Lieutenant, or to have the

Municipal Bill, and any other three bills which they might name, with Lord Roden for Viceroy; and they will

at once answer, "Leave us Lord Ebrington; and burn your bills." The truth is that, the more defective the

legislation, the more important is a good administration, just as the personal qualities of the Sovereign are of

more importance in despotic countries like Russia than in a limited monarchy. If we have not in our Statute

Book all the securities necessary for good government, it is of the more importance that the character of the

But we are told that the Government is weak. That is most true; and I believe that almost all that we are

tempted to blame in the conduct of the Government is to be attributed to weakness. But let us consider what

the nature of this weakness is. Is it that kind of weakness which makes it our duty to oppose the Government?

Or is it that kind of weakness which makes it our duty to support the Government? Is it intellectual weakness,

moral weakness, the incapacity to discern, or the want of courage to pursue, the true interest of the nation?

Such was the weakness of Mr Addington, when this country was threatened with invasion from Boulogne.

Such was the weakness of the Government which sent out the wretched Walcheren expedition, and starved

the Duke of Wellington in Spain; a government whose only strength was shown in prosecuting writers who

exposed abuses, and in slaughtering rioters whom oppression had driven into outrage. Is that the weakness of

the present Government? I think not. As compared with any other party capable of holding the reins of

Government, they are deficient neither in intellectual nor in moral strength. On all great questions of

difference between the Ministers and the Opposition, I hold the Ministers to be in the right. When I consider

the difficulties with which they have to struggle, when I see how manfully that struggle is maintained by

Lord Melbourne, when I see that Lord John Russell has excited even the admiration of his opponents by the

heroic manner in which he has gone on, year after year, in sickness and domestic sorrow, fighting the battle

of Reform, I am led to the conclusion that the weakness of the Ministers is of that sort which makes it our

duty to give them, not opposition, but support; and that support it is my purpose to afford to the best of my

If, indeed, I thought myself at liberty to consult my own inclination, I should have stood aloof from the

conflict. If you should be pleased to send me to Parliament, I shall enter an assembly very different from that

which I quitted in 1834. I left the Wigs united and dominant, strong in the confidence and attachment of one

House of Parliament, strong also in the fears of the other. I shall return to find them helpless in the Lords, and

forced almost every week to fight a battle for existence in the Commons. Many, whom I left bound together

by what seemed indissoluble private and public ties, I shall now find assailing each other with more than the

ordinary bitterness of political hostility. Many with whom I sate side by side, contending through whole

nights for the Reform Bill, till the sun broke over the Thames on our undiminished ranks, I shall now find on

hostile benches. I shall be compelled to engage in painful altercations with many with whom I had hoped

never to have a conflict, except in the generous and friendly strife which should best serve the common

cause. I left the Liberal Government strong enough to maintain itself against an adverse Court; I see that the

Liberal Government now rests for support on the preference of a Sovereign, in whom the country sees with

delight the promise of a better, a gentler, a happier Elizabeth, of a Sovereign in whom we hope that our

children and our grandchildren will admire the firmness, the sagacity, and the spirit which distinguished the

last and greatest of the Tudors, tempered by the beneficent influence of more humane times and more popular

institutions. Whether royal favour, never more needed and never better deserved, will enable the government

to surmount the difficulties with which it has to deal, I cannot presume to judge. It may be that the blow has

only been deferred for a season, and that a long period of Tory domination is before us. Be it so. I entered

public life a Whig; and a Whig I am determined to remain. I use that word, and I wish you to understand that

I use it, in no narrow sense. I mean by a Whig, not one who subscribes implicitly to the contents of any book,

though that book may have been written by Locke; not one who approves the whole conduct of any

statesman, though that statesman may have been Fox; not one who adopts the opinions in fashion in any

circle, though that circle may be composed of the finest and noblest spirits of the age. But it seems to me that,

when I look back on our history, I can discern a great party which has, through many generations, preserved

its identity; a party often depressed, never extinguished; a party which, though often tainted with the faults of

the age, has always been in advance of the age; a party which, though guilty of many errors and some crimes,

has the glory of having established our civil and religious liberties on a firm foundation; and of that party I

am proud to be a member. It was that party which, on the great question of monopolies, stood up against

Elizabeth. It was that party which, in the reign of James the First, organised the earliest parliamentary

opposition, which steadily asserted the privileges of the people, and wrested prerogative after prerogative

from the Crown. It was that party which forced Charles the First to relinquish the shipmoney. It was that

party which destroyed the Star Chamber and the High Commission Court. It was that party which, under

Charles the Second, carried the Habeas Corpus Act, which effected the Revolution, which passed the

Toleration Act, which broke the yoke of a foreign church in your country, and which saved Scotland from the

fate of unhappy Ireland. It was that party which reared and maintained the constitutional throne of Hanover

against the hostility of the Church and of the landed aristocracy of England. It was that party which opposed

the war with America and the war with the French Republic; which imparted the blessings of our free

Constitution to the Dissenters; and which, at a later period, by unparalleled sacrifices and exertions, extended

the same blessings to the Roman Catholics. To the Whigs of the seventeenth century we owe it that we have a

House of Commons. To the Whigs of the nineteenth century we owe it that the House of Commons has been

purified. The abolition of the slave trade, the abolition of colonial slavery, the extension of popular education,

the mitigation of the rigour of the penal code, all, all were effected by that party; and of that party, I repeat, I

am a member. I look with pride on all that the Whigs have done for the cause of human freedom and of

human happiness. I see them now hard pressed, struggling with difficulties, but still fighting the good fight.

At their head I see men who have inherited the spirit and the virtues, as well as the blood, of old champions

and martyrs of freedom. To those men I propose to attach myself. Delusion may triumph: but the triumphs of

delusion are but for a day. We may be defeated: but our principles will only gather fresh strength from

defeats. Be that, however, as it may, my part is taken. While one shred of the old banner is flying, by that

banner will I at least be found. The good old cause, as Sidney called it on the scaffold, vanquished or

victorious, insulted or triumphant, the good old cause is still the good old cause with me. Whether in or out of

Parliament, whether speaking with that authority which must always belong to the representative of this great

and enlightened community, or expressing the humble sentiments of a private citizen, I will to the last

maintain inviolate my fidelity to principles which, though they may be borne down for a time by senseless

clamour, are yet strong with the strength and immortal with the immortality of truth, and which, however

they may be misunderstood or misrepresented by contemporaries, will assuredly find justice from a better

age. Gentlemen, I have done. I have only to thank you for the kind attention with which you have heard me,

and to express my hope that whether my principles have met with your concurrence or not, the frankness with

On the twentyeighth of January 1840, Sir John Yarde Buller moved the following resolution:

"That Her Majesty's Government, as at present constituted, does not possess the confidence of the House."

After a discussion of four nights the motion was rejected by 308 votes to 287. The following Speech was

The House, Sir, may possibly imagine that I rise under some little feeling of irritation to reply to the personal

reflections which have been introduced into the discussion. It would be easy to reply to these reflections. It

would be still easier to retort them: but I should think either course unworthy of me and of this great

occasion. If ever I should so far forget myself as to wander from the subject of debate to matters concerning

only myself, it will not, I hope, be at a time when the dearest interests of our country are staked on the result

of our deliberations. I rise under feelings of anxiety which leave no room in my mind for selfish vanity or

petty vindictiveness. I believe with the most intense conviction that, in pleading for the Government to which

I belong, I am pleading for the safety of the Commonwealth, for the reformation of abuses, and at the same

time for the preservation of august and venerable institutions: and I trust, Mr Speaker, that when the question

is whether a Cabinet be or be not worthy of the confidence of Parliament, the first Member of that Cabinet

who comes forward to defend himself and his colleagues will find here some portion of that generosity and

good feeling which once distinguished English gentlemen. But be this as it may, my voice shall be heard. I

repeat, that I am pleading at once for the reformation and for the preservation of our institutions, for liberty

and order, for justice administered in mercy, for equal laws, for the rights of conscience, and for the real

union of Great Britain and Ireland. If, on so grave an occasion, I should advert to one or two of the charges

which have been brought against myself personally, I shall do so only because I conceive that those charges

One of the chief accusations brought against the Government by the honourable Baronet (Sir John Yarde

Buller.) who opened the debate, and repeated by the seconder (Alderman Thompson.), and by almost every

gentlemen who has addressed the House from the benches opposite, is that I have been invited to take office

though my opinion with respect to the Ballot is known to be different from that of my colleagues. We have

been repeatedly told that a Ministry in which there is not perfect unanimity on a subject so important must be

undeserving of the public confidence. Now, Sir, it is true that I am in favour of secret voting, that my noble

and right honourable friends near me are in favour of open voting, and yet that we sit in the same Cabinet.

But if, on account of this difference of opinion, the Government is unworthy of public confidence, then I am

sure that scarcely any government which has existed within the memory of the oldest man has been deserving

of public confidence. It is wellknown that in the Cabinets of Mr Pitt, of Mr Fox, of Lord Liverpool, of Mr

Canning, of the Duke of Wellington, there were open questions of great moment. Mr Pitt, while still zealous

for parliamentary reform, brought into the Cabinet Lord Grenville, who was adverse to parliamentary reform.

Again, Mr Pitt, while eloquently supporting the abolition of the Slave Trade, brought into the Cabinet Mr

Dundas, who was the chief defender of the Slave Trade. Mr Fox, too, intense as was his abhorrence of the

Slave Trade, sat in the same Cabinet with Lord Sidmouth and Mr Windham, who voted to the last against the

abolition of that trade. Lord Liverpool, Mr Canning, the Duke of Wellington, all left the question of Catholic

Emancipation open. And yet, of all questions, that was perhaps the very last that should have been left open.

For it was not merely a legislative question, but a question which affected every part of the executive

administration. But, to come to the present time, suppose that you could carry your resolution, suppose that

you could drive the present Ministers from power, who that may succeed them will be able to form a

government in which there will be no open questions? Can the right honourable Baronet the member for

Tamworth (Sir Robert Peel.) form a Cabinet without leaving the great question of our privileges open? In

what respect is that question less important than the question of the Ballot? Is it not indeed from the

privileges of the House that all questions relating to the constitution of the House derive their importance?

What does it matter how we are chosen, if, when we meet, we do not possess the powers necessary to enable

us to perform the functions of a legislative assembly? Yet you who would turn out the present Ministers

because they differ from each other as to the way in which Members of this House should be chosen, wish to

bring in men who decidedly differ from each other as to the relation in which this House stands to the nation,

to the other House, and to the Courts of Judicature. Will you say that the dispute between the House and the

Court of Queen's Bench is a trifling dispute? Surely, in the late debates, you were all perfectly agreed as to

the importance of the question, though you were agreed as to nothing else. Some of you told us that we were

contending for a power essential to our honour and usefulness. Many of you protested against our

proceedings, and declared that we were encroaching on the province of the tribunals, violating the liberty of

our fellow citizens, punishing honest magistrates for not perjuring themselves. Are these trifles? And can we

believe that you really feel a horror of open questions when we see your Prime Minister elect sending people

to prison overnight, and his law officers elect respectfully attending the levee of those prisoners the next

morning? Observe, too, that this question of privileges is not merely important; it is also pressing. Something

must be done, and that speedily. My belief is that more inconvenience would follow from leaving that

question open one month than from leaving the question of the Ballot open ten years.

The Ballot, Sir, is not the only subject on which I am accused of holding dangerous opinions. The right

honourable Baronet the Member for Pembroke (Sir James Graham.) pronounces the present Government a

Chartist Government; and he proves his point by saying that I am a member of the government, and that I

wish to give the elective franchise to every ten pound householder, whether his house be in a town or in the

country. Is it possible, Sir, that the honourable Baronet should not know that the fundamental principle of the

plan of government called the People's Charter is that every male of twentyone should have a vote? Or is it

possible that he can see no difference between giving the franchise to all ten pound householders, and giving

the franchise to all males of twentyone? Does he think the ten pound householders a class morally or

intellectually unfit to possess the franchise, he who bore a chief part in framing the law which gave them the

franchise in all the represented towns of the United Kingdom? Or will he say that the ten pound householder

in a town is morally and intellectually fit to be an elector, but that the ten pound householder who lives in the

open country is morally and intellectually unfit? Is not houserent notoriously higher in towns than in the

country? Is it not, therefore, probable that the occupant of a ten pound house in a rural hamlet will be a man

who has a greater stake in the peace and welfare of society than a man who has a ten pound house in

Manchester or Birmingham? Can you defend on conservative principles an arrangement which gives votes to

a poorer class and withholds them from a richer? For my own part, I believe it to be essential to the welfare of

the state, that the elector should have a pecuniary qualification. I believe that the ten pound qualification

cannot be proved to be either too high or too low. Changes, which may hereafter take place in the value of

money and in the condition of the people, may make a change of the qualification necessary. But the ten

pound qualification is, I believe, well suited to the present state of things. At any rate, I am unable to

conceive why it should be a sufficient qualification within the limits of a borough, and an insufficient

qualification a yard beyond those limits; sufficient at Knightsbridge, but insufficient at Kensington; sufficient

at Lambeth, but insufficient at Battersea? If any person calls this Chartism, he must permit me to tell him that

A motion, Sir, such as that which we are considering, brings under our review the whole policy of the

kingdom, domestic, foreign, and colonial. It is not strange, therefore, that there should have been several

episodes in this debate. Something has been said about the hostilities on the River Plata, something about the

hostilities on the coast of China, something about Commissioner Lin, something about Captain Elliot. But on

such points I shall not dwell, for it is evidently not by the opinion which the House may entertain on such

points that the event of the debate will be decided. The main argument of the gentlemen who support the

motion, the argument on which the right honourable Baronet who opened the debate chiefly relied, the

argument which his seconder repeated, and which has formed the substance of every speech since delivered

from the opposite side of the House, may be fairly summed up thus, "The country is not in a satisfactory

state. There is much recklessness, much turbulence, much craving for political change; and the cause of these

evils is the policy of the Whigs. They rose to power by agitation in 1830: they retained power by means of

agitation through the tempestuous months which followed: they carried the Reform Bill by means of

agitation: expelled from office, they forced themselves in again by means of agitation; and now we are

paying the penalty of their misconduct. Chartism is the natural offspring of Whiggism. From those who

caused the evil we cannot expect the remedy. The first thing to be done is to dismiss them, and to call to

power men who, not having instigated the people to commit excesses, can, without incurring the charge of

Now, Sir, it seems to me that this argument was completely refuted by the able and eloquent speech of my

right honourable friend the Judge Advocate. (Sir George Grey.) He said, and he said most truly, that those

who hold this language are really accusing, not the Government of Lord Melbourne, but the Government of

Lord Grey. I was therefore, I must say, surprised, after the speech of my right honourable friend, to hear the

right honourable Baronet the Member for Pembroke, himself a distinguished member of the cabinet of Lord

Grey, pronounce a harangue against agitation. That he was himself an agitator he does not venture to deny;

but he tries to excuse himself by saying, "I liked the Reform Bill; I thought it a good bill; and so I agitated for

it; and, in agitating for it, I acknowledge that I went to the very utmost limit of what was prudent, to the very

utmost limit of what was legal." Does not the right honourable Baronet perceive that, by setting up this

defence for his own past conduct, he admits that agitation is good or evil, according as the objects of the

agitation are good or evil? When I hear him speak of agitation as a practice disgraceful to a public man, and

especially to a Minister of the Crown, and address his lecture in a particular manner to me, I cannot but

wonder that he should not perceive that his reproaches, instead of wounding me, recoil on himself. I was not

a member of the Cabinet which brought in the Reform Bill, which dissolved the Parliament in a moment of

intense excitement in order to carry the Reform Bill, which refused to serve the Sovereign longer unless he

would create peers in sufficient numbers to carry the Reform Bill. I was at that time only one of those

hundreds of members of this House, one of those millions of Englishmen, who were deeply impressed with

the conviction that the Reform Bill was one of the best laws that ever had been framed, and who reposed

entire confidence in the abilities, the integrity, and the patriotism of the ministers; and I must add that in no

member of the administration did I place more confidence than in the right honourable Baronet, who was

then First Lord of the Admiralty, and in the noble lord who was then Secretary for Ireland. (Lord Stanley.) It

was indeed impossible for me not to see that the public mind was strongly, was dangerously stirred: but I

trusted that men so able, men so upright, men who had so large a stake in the country, would carry us safe

through the storm which they had raised. And is it not rather hard that my confidence in the right honourable

Baronet and the noble lord is to be imputed to me as a crime by the very men who are trying to raise the right

honourable Baronet and the noble lord to power? The Charter, we have been told in this debate, is the child of

the Reform Bill. But whose child is the Reform Bill? If men are to be deemed unfit for office because they

roused the national spirit to support that bill, because they went as far as the law permitted in order to carry

that bill, then I say that no men can be more unfit for office than the right honourable Baronet and the noble

lord. It may be thought presumptuous in me to defend two persons who are so well able to defend themselves,

and the more so, as they have a powerful ally in the right honourable Baronet the Member for Tamworth,

who, having twice offered them high places in the Government, must be supposed to be of opinion that they

are not disqualified for being ministers by having been agitators. I will, however, venture to offer some

arguments in vindication of the conduct of my noble and right honourable friends, as I once called them, and

as, notwithstanding the asperity which has characterised the present debate, I should still have pleasure in

calling them. I would say in their behalf that agitation ought not to be indiscriminately condemned; that great

abuses ought to be removed; that in this country scarcely any great abuse was ever removed till the public

feeling had been roused against it; and that the public feeling has seldom been roused against abuses without

exertions to which the name of agitation may be given. I altogether deny the assertion which we have

repeatedly heard in the course of this debate, that a government which does not discountenance agitation

cannot be trusted to suppress rebellion. Agitation and rebellion, you say, are in kind the same thing: they

differ only in degree. Sir, they are the same thing in the sense in which to breathe a vein and to cut a throat

are the same thing. There are many points of resemblance between the act of the surgeon and the act of the

assassin. In both there is the steel, the incision, the smart, the bloodshed. But the acts differ as widely as

possible both in moral character and in physical effect. So with agitation and rebellion. I do not believe that

there has been any moment since the revolution of 1688 at which an insurrection in this country would have

been justifiable. On the other hand, I hold that we have owed to agitation a long series of beneficent reforms

which could have been effected in no other way. Nor do I understand how any person can reprobate agitation,

merely as agitation, unless he is prepared to adopt the maxim of Bishop Horsley, that the people have nothing

to do with the laws but to obey them. The truth is that agitation is inseparable from popular government. If

you wish to get rid of agitation, you must establish an oligarchy like that of Venice, or a despotism like that

of Russia. If a Russian thinks that he is able to suggest an improvement in the commercial code or the

criminal code of his country, he tries to obtain an audience of the Emperor Nicholas or of Count Nesselrode.

If he can satisfy them that his plans are good, then undoubtedly, without agitation, without controversy in

newspapers, without harangues from hustings, without clamorous meetings in great halls and in

marketplaces, without petitions signed by tens of thousands, you may have a reform effected with one stroke

of the pen. Not so here. Here the people, as electors, have power to decide questions of the highest

importance. And ought they not to hear and read before they decide? And how can they hear if nobody

speaks, or read if nobody writes? You must admit, then, that it is our right, and that it may be our duty, to

attempt by speaking and writing to induce the great body of our countrymen to pronounce what we think a

right decision; and what else is agitation? In saying this I am not defending one party alone. Has there been

no Tory agitation? No agitation against Popery? No agitation against the new Poor Law? No agitation against

the plan of education framed by the present Government? Or, to pass from questions about which we differ to

questions about which we all agree: Would the slave trade ever have been abolished without agitation?

Would slavery ever have been abolished without agitation? Would your prison discipline ever have been

improved without agitation? Would your penal code, once the scandal of the Statute Book, have been

mitigated without agitation? I am far from denying that agitation may be abused, may be employed for bad

ends, may be carried to unjustifiable lengths. So may that freedom of speech which is one of the most

precious privileges of this House. Indeed, the analogy is very close. What is agitation but the mode in which

the public, the body which we represent, the great outer assembly, if I may so speak, holds its debates? It is as

necessary to the good government of the country that our constituents should debate as that we should debate.

They sometimes go wrong, as we sometimes go wrong. There is often much exaggeration, much unfairness,

much acrimony in their debates. Is there none in ours? Some worthless demagogues may have exhorted the

people to resist the laws. But what member of Lord Grey's Government, what member of the present

Government, ever gave any countenance to any illegal proceedings? It is perfectly true that some words

which have been uttered here and in other places, and which, when taken together with the context and

candidly construed, will appear to mean nothing but what was reasonable and constitutional and moderate,

have been distorted and mutilated into something that has a seditious aspect. But who is secure against such

misrepresentation? Not, I am sure, the right honourable Baronet the Member for Pembroke. He ought to

remember that his own speeches have been used by bad men for bad ends. He ought to remember that some

expressions which he used in 1830, on the subject of the emoluments divided among Privy Councillors, have

been quoted by the Chartists in vindication of their excesses. Do I blame him for this? Not at all. He said

nothing that was not justifiable. But it is impossible for a man so to guard his lips that his language shall not

sometimes be misunderstood by dull men, and sometimes misrepresented by dishonest men. I do not, I say,

blame him for having used those expressions: but I do say that, knowing how his own expressions had been

perverted, he should have hesitated before he threw upon men, not less attached than himself to the cause of

law, of order and property, imputations certainly not better founded than those to which he is himself liable.

And now, Sir, to pass by many topics to which, but for the lateness of the hour, I would willingly advert, let

me remind the House that the question before us is not a positive question, but a question of comparison. No

man, though he may disapprove of some part of the conduct of the present Ministers, is justified in voting for

the motion which we are considering, unless he believes that a change would, on the whole, be beneficial. No

government is perfect: but some government there must be; and if the present government were worse than its

enemies think it, it ought to exist until it can be succeeded by a better. Now I take it to be perfectly clear that,

in the event of the removal of Her Majesty's present advisers, an administration must be formed of which the

right honourable Baronet the Member for Tamworth will be the head. Towards that right honourable Baronet,

and towards many of the noblemen and gentlemen who would probably in that event be associated with him,

I entertain none but kind and respectful feelings. I am far, I hope, from that narrowness of mind which makes

a man unable to see merit in any party but his own. If I may venture to parody the old Venetian proverb, I

would be "First an Englishman; and then a Whig." I feel proud of my country when I think how much ability,

uprightness, and patriotism may be found on both sides of the House. Among our opponents stands forth,

eminently distinguished by parts, eloquence, knowledge, and, I willingly admit, by public spirit, the right

honourable Baronet the Member for Tamworth. Having said this, I shall offer no apology for the remarks

which, in the discharge of my public duty, I shall make, without, I hope, any personal discourtesy, on his past

It has been, Sir, I will not say his fault, but his misfortune, his fate, to be the leader of a party with which he

has no sympathy. To go back to what is now matter of history, the right honourable Baronet bore a chief part

in the restoration of the currency. By a very large proportion of his followers the restoration of the currency is

considered as the chief cause of the distresses of the country. The right honourable Baronet cordially

supported the commercial policy of Mr Huskisson. But there was no name more odious than that of Mr

Huskisson to the rank and file of the Tory party. The right honourable Baronet assented to the Act which

removed the disabilities of the Protestant Dissenters. But, a very short time ago, a noble Duke, one of the

highest in power and rank of the right honourable Baronet's adherents, positively refused to lend his aid to the

executing of that Act. The right honourable Baronet brought in the bill which removed the disabilities of the

Roman Catholics: but his supporters make it a chief article of charge against us that we have given practical

effect to the law which is his best title to public esteem. The right honourable Baronet has declared himself

decidedly favourable to the new Poor Law. Yet, if a voice is raised against the Whig Bastilles and the Kings

of Somerset House, it is almost certain to be the voice of some zealous retainer of the right honourable

Baronet. On the great question of privilege, the right honourable Baronet has taken a part which entitles him

to the gratitude of all who are solicitous for the honour and the usefulness of the popular branch of the

legislature. But if any person calls us tyrants, and calls those whom we have imprisoned martyrs, that person

is certain to be a partisan of the right honourable Baronet. Even when the right honourable Baronet does

happen to agree with his followers as to a conclusion, he seldom arrives at that conclusion by the same

process of reasoning which satisfies them. Many great questions which they consider as questions of right

and wrong, as questions of moral and religious principle, as questions which must, for no earthly object, and

on no emergency, be compromised, are treated by him merely as questions of expediency, of place, and of

time. He has opposed many bills introduced by the present Government; but he has opposed them on such

grounds that he is at perfect liberty to bring in the same bills himself next year, with perhaps some slight

variation. I listened to him as I always listen to him, with pleasure, when he spoke last session on the subject

of education. I could not but be amused by the skill with which he performed the hard task of translating the

gibberish of bigots into language which might not misbecome the mouth of a man of sense. I felt certain that

he despised the prejudices of which he condescended to make use, and that his opinion about the Normal

Schools and the Douai Version entirely agreed with my own. I therefore do not think that, in times like these,

the right honourable Baronet can conduct the administration with honour to himself or with satisfaction to

those who are impatient to see him in office. I will not affect to feel apprehensions from which I am entirely

free. I do not fear, and I will not pretend to fear, that the right honourable Baronet will be a tyrant and a

persecutor. I do not believe that he will give up Ireland to the tender mercies of those zealots who form, I am

afraid, the strongest, and I am sure the loudest, part of his retinue. I do not believe that he will strike the

names of Roman Catholics from the Privy Council book, and from the Commissions of the Peace. I do not

believe that he will lay on our table a bill for the repeal of that great Act which was introduced by himself in

1829. What I do anticipate is this, that he will attempt to keep his party together by means which will excite

grave discontents, and yet that he will not succeed in keeping his party together; that he will lose the support

of the Tories without obtaining the support of the nation; and that his government will fall from causes purely

This, Sir, is not mere conjecture. The drama is not a new one. It was performed a few years ago on the same

stage and by most of the same actors. In 1827 the right honourable Baronet was, as now, the head of a

powerful Tory opposition. He had, as now, the support of a strong minority in this House. He had, as now, a

majority in the other House. He was, as now, the favourite of the Church and of the Universities. All who

dreaded political change, all who hated religious liberty, rallied round him then, as they rally round him now.

Their cry was then, as now, that a government unfriendly to the civil and ecclesiastical constitution of the

realm was kept in power by intrigue and court favour, and that the right honourable Baronet was the man to

whom the nation must look to defend its laws against revolutionists, and its religion against idolaters. At

length that cry became irresistible. Tory animosity had pursued the most accomplished of Tory statesmen and

orators to a resting place in Westminster Abbey. The arrangement which was made after his death lasted but a

very few months: a Tory government was formed; and the right honourable Baronet became the leading

minister of the Crown in the House of Commons. His adherents hailed his elevation with clamorous delight,

and confidently expected many years of triumph and dominion. Is it necessary to say in what disappointment,

in what sorrow, in what fury, those expectations ended? The right honourable Baronet had been raised to

power by prejudices and passions in which he had no share. His followers were bigots. He was a statesman.

He was coolly weighing conveniences against inconveniences, while they were ready to resort to a

proscription and to hazard a civil war rather than depart from what they called their principles. For a time he

tried to take a middle course. He imagined that it might be possible for him to stand well with his old friends,

and yet to perform some part of his duty to the state. But those were not times in which he could long

continue to halt between two opinions. His elevation, as it had excited the hopes of the oppressors, had

excited also the terror and the rage of the oppressed. Agitation, which had, during more than a year,

slumbered in Ireland, awoke with renewed vigour, and soon became more formidable than ever. The Roman

Catholic Association began to exercise authority such as the Irish Parliament, in the days of its independence,

had never possessed. An agitator became more powerful than the Lord Lieutenant. Violence engendered

violence. Every explosion of feeling on one side of St George's Channel was answered by a louder explosion

on the other. The Clare election, the Penenden Heath meeting showed that the time for evasion and delay was

past. A crisis had arrived which made it absolutely necessary for the Government to take one side or the

other. A simple issue was proposed to the right honourable Baronet, concession or civil war; to disgust his

party, or to ruin his country. He chose the good part. He performed a duty, deeply painful, in some sense

humiliating, yet in truth highly honourable to him. He came down to this House and proposed the

emancipation of the Roman Catholics. Among his adherents were some who, like himself, had opposed the

Roman Catholic claims merely on the ground of political expediency; and these persons readily consented to

support his new policy. But not so the great body of his followers. Their zeal for Protestant ascendency was a

ruling passion, a passion, too, which they thought it a virtue to indulge. They had exerted themselves to raise

to power the man whom they regarded as the ablest and most trusty champion of that ascendency; and he had

not only abandoned the good cause, but had become its adversary. Who can forget in what a roar of obloquy

their anger burst forth? Never before was such a flood of calumny and invective poured on a single head. All

history, all fiction were ransacked by the old friends of the right honourable Baronet, for nicknames and

allusions. One right honourable gentleman, who I am sorry not to see in his place opposite, found English

prose too weak to express his indignation, and pursued his perfidious chief with reproaches borrowed from

the ravings of the deserted Dido. Another Tory explored Holy Writ for parallels, and could find no parallel

but Judas Iscariot. The great university which had been proud to confer on the right honourable Baronet the

highest marks of favour, was foremost in affixing the brand of infamy. From Cornwall, from

Northumberland, clergymen came up by hundreds to Oxford, in order to vote against him whose presence, a

few days before, would have set the bells of their parish churches jingling. Nay, such was the violence of this

new enmity that the old enmity of the Tories to Whigs, Radicals, Dissenters, Papists, seemed to be forgotten.

That Ministry which, when it came into power at the close of 1828, was one of the strongest that the country

ever saw, was, at the close of 1829, one of the weakest. It lingered another year, staggering between two

parties, leaning now on one, now on the other, reeling sometimes under a blow from the right, sometimes

under a blow from the left, and certain to fall as soon as the Tory opposition and the Whig opposition could

find a question on which to unite. Such a question was found: and that Ministry fell without a struggle.

Now what I wish to know is this. What reason have we to believe that any administration which the right

honourable Baronet can now form will have a different fate? Is he changed since 1829? Is his party changed?

He is, I believe, still the same, still a statesman, moderate in opinions, cautious in temper, perfectly free from

that fanaticism which inflames so many of his supporters. As to his party, I admit that it is not the same; for it

is very much worse. It is decidedly fiercer and more unreasonable than it was eleven years ago. I judge by its

public meetings; I judge by its journals; I judge by its pulpits, pulpits which every week resound with ribaldry

and slander such as would disgrace the hustings. A change has come over the spirit of a part, I hope not the

larger part, of the Tory body. It was once the glory of the Tories that, through all changes of fortune, they

were animated by a steady and fervent loyalty which made even error respectable, and gave to what might

otherwise have been called servility something of the manliness and nobleness of freedom. A great Tory poet,

whose eminent services to the cause of monarchy had been ill requited by an ungrateful Court, boasted that

"Loyalty is still the same, Whether it win or lose the game; True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not

Toryism has now changed its character. We have lived to see a monster of a faction made up of the worst

parts of the Cavalier and the worst parts of the Roundhead. We have lived to see a race of disloyal Tories. We

have lived to see Tories giving themselves the airs of those insolent pikemen who puffed out their tobacco

smoke in the face of Charles the First. We have lived to see Tories who, because they are not allowed to grind

the people after the fashion of Strafford, turn round and revile the Sovereign in the style of Hugh Peters. I

say, therefore, that, while the leader is still what he was eleven years ago, when his moderation alienated his

intemperate followers, his followers are more intemperate than ever. It is my firm belief that the majority of

them desire the repeal of the Emancipation Act. You say, no. But I will give reasons, and unanswerable

reasons, for what I say. How, if you really wish to maintain the Emancipation Act, do you explain that

clamour which you have raised, and which has resounded through the whole kingdom, about the three Popish

Privy Councillors? You resent, as a calumny, the imputation that you wish to repeal the Emancipation Act;

and yet you cry out that Church and State are in danger of ruin whenever the Government carries that Act

into effect. If the Emancipation Act is never to be executed, why should it not be repealed? I perfectly

understand that an honest man may wish it to be repealed. But I am at a loss to understand how honest men

can say, "We wish the Emancipation Act to be maintained: you who accuse us of wishing to repeal it slander

us foully: we value it as much as you do. Let it remain among our statutes, provided always that it remains as

a dead letter. If you dare to put it in force, indeed, we will agitate against you; for, though we talk against

agitation, we too can practice agitation: we will denounce you in our associations; for, though we call

associations unconstitutional, we too have our associations: our divines shall preach about Jezebel: our tavern

spouters shall give significant hints about James the Second." Yes, Sir, such hints have been given, hints that

a sovereign who has merely executed the law, ought to be treated like a sovereign who grossly violated the

law. I perfectly understand, as I said, that an honest man may disapprove of the Emancipation Act, and may

wish it repealed. But can any man, who is of opinion that Roman Catholics ought to be admitted to office,

honestly maintain that they now enjoy more than their fair share of power and emolument? What is the

proportion of Roman Catholics to the whole population of the United Kingdom? About onefourth. What

proportion of the Privy Councillors are Roman Catholics? About oneseventieth. And what, after all, is the

power of a Privy Councillor, merely as such? Are not the right honourable gentlemen opposite Privy

Councillors? If a change should take place, will not the present Ministers still be Privy Councillors? It is

notorious that no Privy Councillor goes to Council unless he is specially summoned. He is called Right

Honourable, and he walks out of a room before Esquires and Knights. And can we seriously believe that men

who think it monstrous that this honorary distinction should be given to three Roman Catholics, do sincerely

desire to maintain a law by which a Roman Catholic may be Commander in Chief with all the military

patronage, First Lord of the Admiralty with all the naval patronage, or First Lord of the Treasury, with the

chief influence in every department of the Government. I must therefore suppose that those who join in the

cry against the three Privy Councillors, are either imbecile or hostile to the Emancipation Act.

I repeat, therefore, that, while the right honourable Baronet is as free from bigotry as he was eleven years ago,

his party is more bigoted than it was eleven years ago. The difficulty of governing Ireland in opposition to the

feelings of the great body of the Irish people is, I apprehend, as great now as it was eleven years ago. What

then must be the fate of a government formed by the right honourable Baronet? Suppose that the event of this

debate should make him Prime Minister? Should I be wrong if I were to prophesy that three years hence he

will be more hated and vilified by the Tory party than the present advisers of the Crown have been? Should I

be wrong if I were to say that all those literary organs which now deafen us with praise of him, will then

deafen us with abuse of him? Should I be wrong if I were to say that he will be burned in effigy by those who

now drink his health with three times three and one cheer more? Should I be wrong if I were to say that those

very gentlemen who have crowded hither tonight in order to vote him into power, will crowd hither to vote

Lord Melbourne back? Once already have I seen those very persons go out into the lobby for the purpose of

driving the right honourable Baronet from the high situation to which they had themselves exalted him. I

went out with them myself; yes, with the whole body of the Tory country gentlemen, with the whole body of

high Churchmen. All the four University Members were with us. The effect of that division was to bring Lord

Grey, Lord Althorpe, Lord Brougham, Lord Durham into power. You may say that the Tories on that

occasion judged ill, that they were blinded by vindictive passion, that if they had foreseen all that followed

they might have acted differently. Perhaps so. But what has been once may be again. I cannot think it

possible that those who are now supporting the right honourable Baronet will continue from personal

attachment to support him if they see that his policy is in essentials the same as Lord Melbourne's. I believe

that they have quite as much personal attachment to Lord Melbourne as to the right honourable Baronet. They

follow the right honourable Baronet because his abilities, his eloquence, his experience are necessary to them;

but they are but half reconciled to him. They never can forget that, in the most important crisis of his public

life, he deliberately chose rather to be the victim of their injustice than its instrument. It is idle to suppose that

they will be satisfied by seeing a new set of men in power. Their maxim is most truly "Measures, not men."

They care not before whom the sword of state is borne at Dublin, or who wears the badge of St Patrick. What

they abhor is not Lord Normanby personally or Lord Ebrington personally, but the great principles in

conformity with which Ireland has been governed by Lord Normanby and by Lord Ebrington, the principles

of justice, humanity, and religious freedom. What they wish to have in Ireland is not my Lord Haddington, or

any other viceroy whom the right honourable Baronet may select, but the tyranny of race over race, and of

creed over creed. Give them what they want; and you convulse the empire. Refuse them; and you dissolve the

Tory party. I believe that the right honourable Baronet himself is by no means without apprehensions that, if

he were now called to the head of affairs, he would, very speedily, have the dilemma of 1829 again before

him. He certainly was not without such apprehensions when, a few months ago, he was commanded by Her

Majesty to submit to her the plan of an administration. The aspect of public affairs was not at that time

cheering. The Chartists were stirring in England. There were troubles in Canada. There were great

discontents in the West Indies. An expedition, of which the event was still doubtful, had been sent into the

heart of Asia. Yet, among many causes of anxiety, the discerning eye of the right honourable Baronet easily

discerned the quarter where the great and immediate danger lay. He told the House that his difficulty would

be Ireland. Now, Sir, that which would be the difficulty of his administration is the strength of the present

administration. Her Majesty's Ministers enjoy the confidence of Ireland; and I believe that what ought to be

done for that country will excite less discontent here if done by them than if done by him. He, I am afraid,

great as his abilities are, and good as I willingly admit his intentions to be, would find it easy to lose the

confidence of his partisans, but hard indeed to win the confidence of the Irish people.

It is indeed principally on account of Ireland that I feel solicitous about the issue of the present debate. I well

know how little chance he who speaks on that theme has of obtaining a fair hearing. Would to God that I

were addressing an audience which would judge this great controversy as it is judged by foreign nations, and

as it will be judged by future ages. The passions which inflame us, the sophisms which delude us, will not

last for ever. The paroxysms of faction have their appointed season. Even the madness of fanaticism is but for

a day. The time is coming when our conflicts will be to others what the conflicts of our forefathers are to us;

when the preachers who now disturb the State, and the politicians who now make a stalking horse of the

Church, will be no more than Sacheverel and Harley. Then will be told, in language very different from that

which now calls forth applause from the mob of Exeter Hall, the true story of these troubled years.

There was, it will then be said, a part of the kingdom of Queen Victoria which presented a lamentable

contrast to the rest; not from the want of natural fruitfulness, for there was no richer soil in Europe; not from

want of facilities for trade, for the coasts of this unhappy region were indented by bays and estuaries capable

of holding all the navies of the world; not because the people were too dull to improve these advantages or

too pusillanimous to defend them; for in natural quickness of wit and gallantry of spirit they ranked high

among the nations. But all the bounty of nature had been made unavailing by the crimes and errors of man. In

the twelfth century that fair island was a conquered province. The nineteenth century found it a conquered

province still. During that long interval many great changes had taken place which had conduced to the

general welfare of the empire: but those changes had only aggravated the misery of Ireland. The Reformation

came, bringing to England and Scotland divine truth and intellectual liberty. To Ireland it brought only fresh

calamities. Two new war cries, Protestant and Catholic, animated the old feud between the Englishry and the

Irishry. The Revolution came, bringing to England and Scotland civil and spiritual freedom, to Ireland

subjugation, degradation, persecution. The Union came: but though it joined legislatures, it left hearts as

widely disjoined as ever. Catholic Emancipation came: but it came too late; it came as a concession made to

fear, and, having excited unreasonable hopes, was naturally followed by unreasonable disappointment. Then

came violent irritation, and numerous errors on both sides. Agitation produced coercion, and coercion

produced fresh agitation. Difficulties and dangers went on increasing, till a government arose which, all other

means having failed, determined to employ the only means that had not yet been fairly tried, justice and

mercy. The State, long the stepmother of the many, and the mother only of the few, became for the first time

the common parent of all the great family. The body of the people began to look on their rulers as friends.

Battalion after battalion, squadron after squadron was withdrawn from districts which, as it had till then been

thought, could be governed by the sword alone. Yet the security of property and the authority of law became

every day more complete. Symptoms of amendment, symptoms such as cannot be either concealed or

counterfeited, began to appear; and those who once despaired of the destinies of Ireland began to entertain a

confident hope that she would at length take among European nations that high place to which her natural

In words such as these, I am confident, will the next generation speak of the events in our time. Relying on

the sure justice of history and posterity, I care not, as far as I am personally concerned, whether we stand or

fall. That issue it is for the House to decide. Whether the result will be victory or defeat, I know not. But I

know that there are defeats not less glorious than any victory; and yet I have shared in some glorious

victories. Those were proud and happy days;some who sit on the benches opposite can well remember, and

must, I think, regret them;those were proud and happy days when, amidst the applauses and blessings of

millions, my noble friend led us on in the great struggle for the Reform Bill; when hundreds waited round our

doors till sunrise to hear how we had sped; when the great cities of the north poured forth their population on

the highways to meet the mails which brought from the capital the tidings whether the battle of the people

had been lost or won. Such days my noble friend cannot hope to see again. Two such triumphs would be too

much for one life. But perhaps there still awaits him a less pleasing, a less exhilarating, but a not less

honourable task, the task of contending against superior numbers, and through years of discomfiture, for

those civil and religious liberties which are inseparably associated with the name of his illustrious house. At

his side will not be wanting men who against all odds, and through all turns of fortune, in evil days and

amidst evil tongues, will defend to the last, with unabated spirit, the noble principles of Milton and of Locke.

We may be driven from office. We may be doomed to a life of opposition. We may be made marks for the

rancour of sects which, hating each other with a deadly hatred, yet hate toleration still more. We may be

exposed to the rage of Laud on one side, and of Praise GodBarebones on the other. But justice will be done

at last: and a portion of the praise which we bestow on the old champions and martyrs of freedom will not be

refused by future generations to the men who have in our days endeavoured to bind together in real union

races too long estranged, and to efface, by the mild influence of a parental government, the fearful traces

"That it appears to this House, on consideration of the papers relating to China presented to this House by

command of Her Majesty, that the interruption in our commercial and friendly intercourse with that country,

and the hostilities which have since taken place, are mainly to be attributed to the want of foresight and

precaution on the part of Her Majesty's present advisers, in respect to our relations with China, and especially

to their neglect to furnish the Superintendent at Canton with powers and instructions calculated to provide

against the growing evils connected with the contraband trade in opium, and adapted to the novel and

As soon as the question had been put from the Chair the following Speech was made.

Mr Speaker,If the right honourable Baronet, in rising to make an attack on the Government, was forced to

own that he was unnerved and overpowered by his sense of the importance of the question with which he had

to deal, one who rises to repel that attack may, without any shame, confess that he feels similar emotions.

And yet I must say that the anxiety, the natural and becoming anxiety, with which Her Majesty's Ministers

have awaited the judgment of the House on these papers, was not a little allayed by the terms of the right

honourable Baronet's motion, and has been still more allayed by his speech. It was impossible for us to doubt

either his inclination or his ability to detect and to expose any fault which we might have committed, and we

may well congratulate ourselves on finding that, after the closest examination into a long series of

transactions, so extensive, so complicated, and, in some respects, so disastrous, so keen an assailant could

In the first place, Sir, the resolution which the right honourable Baronet has moved relates entirely to events

which took place before the rupture with the Chinese Government. That rupture took place in March, 1839.

The right honourable Baronet therefore does not propose to pass any censure on any step which has been

taken by the Government within the last thirteen months; and it will, I think, be generally admitted, that when

he abstains from censuring the proceedings of the Government, it is because the most unfriendly scrutiny can

find nothing in those proceedings to censure. We by no means deny that he has a perfect right to propose a

vote expressing disapprobation of what was done in 1837 or 1838. At the same time, we cannot but be

gratified by learning that he approves of our present policy, and of the measures which we have taken, since

the rupture, for the vindication of the national honour and for the protection of the national interests.

It is also to be observed that the right honourable Baronet has not ventured, either in his motion or in his

speech, to charge Her Majesty's Ministers with any unwise or unjust act, with any act tending to lower the

character of England, or to give cause of offence to China. The only sins which he imputes to them are sins of

omission. His complaint is merely that they did not foresee the course which events would take at Canton,

and that consequently they did not send sufficient instructions to the British resident who was stationed there.

Now it is evident that such an accusation is of all accusations that which requires the fullest and most distinct

proof; for it is of all accusations that which it is easiest to make and hardest to refute. A man charged with a

culpable act which he has not committed has comparatively little difficulty in proving his innocence. But

when the charge is merely this, that he has not, in a long and intricate series of transactions, done all that it

would have been wise to do, how is he to vindicate himself? And the case which we are considering has this

peculiarity, that the envoy to whom the Ministers are said to have left too large a discretion was fifteen

thousand miles from them. The charge against them therefore is this, that they did not give such copious and

particular directions as were sufficient, in every possible emergency, for the guidance of a functionary, who

was fifteen thousand miles off. Now, Sir, I am ready to admit that, if the papers on our table related to

important negotiations with a neighbouring state, if they related, for example, to a negotiation carried on with

France, my noble friend the Secretary for Foreign Affairs (Lord Palmerston.) might well have been blamed

for sending instructions so meagre and so vague to our ambassador at Paris. For my noble friend knows

tonight what passed between our ambassador at Paris and the French Ministers yesterday; and a messenger

despatched tonight from Downing Street will be at the Embassy in the Faubourg Saint Honore the day after

tomorrow. But that constant and minute control, which the Foreign Secretary is bound to exercise over

diplomatic agents who are near, becomes an useless and pernicious meddling when exercised over agents

who are separated from him by a voyage of five months. There are on both sides of the House gentlemen

conversant with the affairs of India. I appeal to those gentlemen. India is nearer to us than China. India is far

better known to us than China. Yet is it not universally acknowledged that India can be governed only in

India? The authorities at home point out to a governor the general line of policy which they wish him to

follow; but they do not send him directions as to the details of his administration. How indeed is it possible

that they should send him such directions? Consider in what a state the affairs of this country would be if they

were to be conducted according to directions framed by the ablest statesman residing in Bengal. A despatch

goes hence asking for instructions while London is illuminating for the peace of Amiens. The instructions

arrive when the French army is encamped at Boulogne, and when the whole island is up in arms to repel

invasion. A despatch is written asking for instructions when Bonaparte is at Elba. The instructions come

when he is at the Tuilleries. A despatch is written asking for instructions when he is at the Tuilleries. The

instructions come when he is at St Helena. It would be just as impossible to govern India in London as to

govern England at Calcutta. While letters are preparing here on the supposition that there is profound peace

in the Carnatic, Hyder is at the gates of Fort St George. While letters are preparing here on the supposition

that trade is flourishing and that the revenue exceeds the expenditure, the crops have failed, great agency

houses have broken, and the government is negotiating a loan on hard terms. It is notorious that the great men

who founded and preserved our Indian empire, Clive and Warren Hastings, treated all particular orders which

they received from home as mere waste paper. Had not those great men had the sense and spirit so to treat

such orders, we should not now have had an Indian empire. But the case of China is far stronger. For, though

a person who is now writing a despatch to Fort William in Leadenhall Street or Cannon Row, cannot know

what events have happened in India within the last two months, he may be very intimately acquainted with

the general state of that country, with its wants, with its resources, with the habits and temper of the native

population, and with the character of every prince and minister from Nepaul to Tanjore. But what does

anybody here know of China? Even those Europeans who have been in that empire are almost as ignorant of

it as the rest of us. Everything is covered by a veil, through which a glimpse of what is within may

occasionally be caught, a glimpse just sufficient to set the imagination at work, and more likely to mislead

than to inform. The right honourable Baronet has told us that an Englishman at Canton sees about as much of

China as a foreigner who should land at Wapping and proceed no further would see of England. Certainly the

sights and sounds of Wapping would give a foreigner but a very imperfect notion of our Government, of our

manufactures, of our agriculture, of the state of learning and the arts among us. And yet the illustration is but

a faint one. For a foreigner may, without seeing even Wapping, without visiting England at all, study our

literature, and may thence form a vivid and correct idea of our institutions and manners. But the literature of

China affords us no such help. Obstacles unparalleled in any other country which has books must be

surmounted by the student who is determined to master the Chinese tongue. To learn to read is the business

of half a life. It is easier to become such a linguist as Sir William Jones was than to become a good Chinese

scholar. You may count upon your fingers the Europeans whose industry and genius, even when stimulated

by the most fervent religious zeal, has triumphed over the difficulties of a language without an alphabet. Here

then is a country separated from us physically by half the globe, separated from us still more effectually by

the barriers which the most jealous of all governments and the hardest of all languages oppose to the

researches of strangers. Is it then reasonable to blame my noble friend because he has not sent to our envoys

in such a country as this instructions as full and precise as it would have been his duty to send to a minister at

Brussels or at the Hague? The right honourable Baronet who comes forward as the accuser on this occasion is

really accusing himself. He was a member of the Government of Lord Grey. He was himself concerned in

framing the first instructions which were given by my noble friend to our first Superintendent at Canton. For

those instructions the right honourable Baronet frankly admits that he is himself responsible. Are those

instructions then very copious and minute? Not at all. They merely lay down general principles. The

Resident, for example, is enjoined to respect national usages, and to avoid whatever may shock the prejudices

of the Chinese; but no orders are given him as to matters of detail. In 1834 my noble friend quitted the

Foreign Office, and the Duke of Wellington went to it. Did the Duke of Wellington send out those copious

and exact directions with which, according to the right honourable Baronet, the Government is bound to

furnish its agent in China? No, Sir; the Duke of Wellington, grown old in the conduct of great affairs, knows

better than anybody that a man of very ordinary ability at Canton is likely to be a better judge of what ought

to be done on an emergency arising at Canton than the greatest politician at Westminster can possibly be. His

Grace, therefore, like a wise man as he is, wrote only one letter to the Superintendent, and in that letter

merely referred the Superintendent to the general directions given by Lord Palmerston. And how, Sir, does

the right honourable Baronet prove that, by persisting in the course which he himself took when in office, and

which the Duke of Wellington took when in office, Her Majesty's present advisers have brought on that

rupture which we all deplore? He has read us, from the voluminous papers which are on the table, much

which has but a very remote connection with the question. He has said much about things which happened

before the present Ministry existed, and much about things which have happened at Canton since the rupture;

but very little that is relevant to the issue raised by the resolution which he has himself proposed. That issue

is simply this, whether the mismanagement of the present Ministry produced the rupture. I listened to his long

and able speech with the greatest attention, and did my best to separate that part which had any relation to his

motion from a great mass of extraneous matter. If my analysis be correct, the charge which he brings against

The first article is, that the Government omitted to alter that part of the original instructions which directed

The second article is, that the Government omitted to alter that part of the original instructions which directed

the Superintendent to communicate directly with the representatives of the Emperor.

The third article is, that the Government omitted to follow the advice of the Duke of Wellington, who had left

at the Foreign Office a memorandum recommending that a British ship of war should be stationed in the

The fourth article is, that the Government omitted to authorise and empower the Superintendent to put down

Such, Sir, are the counts of this indictment. Of these counts, the fourth is the only one which will require a

As to the first, the answer is simple. It is true that the Government did not revoke that part of the instructions

which directed the Superintendent to reside at Canton; and it is true that this part of the instructions did at one

time cause a dispute between the Superintendent and the Chinese authorities. But it is equally true that this

dispute was accommodated early in 1837; that the Chinese Government furnished the Superintendent with a

passport authorising him to reside at Canton; that, during the two years which preceded the rupture, the

Chinese Government made no objection to his residing at Canton; and that there is not in all this huge blue

book one word indicating that the rupture was caused, directly or indirectly, by his residing at Canton. On the

To the second count we have a similar answer. It is true that there was a dispute with the authorities of

Canton about the mode of communication. But it is equally true that this dispute was settled by a

compromise. The Chinese made a concession as to the channel of communication. The Superintendent made

a concession as to the form of communication. The question had been thus set at rest before the rupture, and

As to the third charge, I must tell the right honourable Baronet that he has altogether misapprehended that

memorandum which he so confidently cites. The Duke of Wellington did not advise the Government to

station a ship of war constantly in the China seas. The Duke, writing in 1835, at a time when the regular

course of the trade had been interrupted, recommended that a ship of war should be stationed near Canton,

"till the trade should take its regular peaceable course." Those are His Grace's own words. Do they not imply

that, when the trade had again taken its regular peaceable course, it might be right to remove the ship of war?

Well, Sir, the trade, after that memorandum was written, did resume its regular peaceable course: that the

right honourable Baronet himself will admit; for it is part of his own case that Sir George Robinson had

succeeded in restoring quiet and security. The third charge then is simply this, that the Ministers did not do in

a time of perfect tranquillity what the Duke of Wellington thought that it would have been right to do in a

And now, Sir, I come to the fourth charge, the only real charge; for the other three are so futile that I hardly

understand how the right honourable Baronet should have ventured to bring them forward. The fourth charge

is, that the Ministers omitted to send to the Superintendent orders and powers to suppress the contraband

Now, Sir, let me ask whether it was not notorious, when the right honourable Baronet was in office, that

British subjects carried on an extensive contraband trade with China? Did the right honourable Baronet and

his colleagues instruct the Superintendent to put down that trade? Never. That trade went on while the Duke

of Wellington was at the Foreign Office. Did the Duke of Wellington instruct the Superintendent to put down

that trade? No, Sir, never. Are then the followers of the right honourable Baronet, are the followers of the

Duke of Wellington, prepared to pass a vote of censure on us for following the example of the right

honourable Baronet and of the Duke of Wellington? But I am understating my case. Since the present

Ministers came into office, the reasons against sending out such instructions were much stronger than when

the right honourable Baronet was in office, or when the Duke of Wellington was in office. Down to the

month of May 1838, my noble friend had good grounds for believing that the Chinese Government was about

to legalise the trade in opium. It is by no means easy to follow the windings of Chinese politics. But, it is

certain that about four years ago the whole question was taken into serious consideration at Pekin. The

attention of the Emperor was called to the undoubted fact, that the law which forbade the trade in opium was

a dead letter. That law had been intended to guard against two evils, which the Chinese legislators seem to

have regarded with equal horror, the importation of a noxious drug, and the exportation of the precious

metals. It was found, however, that as many pounds of opium came in, and that as many pounds of silver

went out, as if there had been no such law. The only effect of the prohibition was that the people learned to

think lightly of imperial edicts, and that no part of the great sums expended in the purchase of the forbidden

luxury came into the imperial treasury. These considerations were set forth in a most luminous and judicious

state paper, drawn by Tang Tzee, President of the Sacrificial Offices. I am sorry to hear that this enlightened

Minister has been turned out of office on account of his liberality: for to be turned out of office is, I

apprehend, a much more serious misfortune in China than in England. Tang Tzee argued that it was unwise to

attempt to exclude opium, for that, while millions desired to have it, no law would keep it out, and that the

manner in which it had long been brought in had produced an injurious effect both on the revenues of the

state and on the morals of the people. Opposed to Tang Tzee was Tchu Sing, a statesman of a very different

class, of a class which, I am sorry to say, is not confined to China. Tchu Sing appears to be one of those

staunch conservatives who, when they find that a law is inefficient because it is too severe, imagine that they

can make it efficient by making it more severe still. His historical knowledge is much on a par with his

legislative wisdom. He seems to have paid particular attention to the rise and progress of our Indian Empire,

and he informs his imperial master that opium is the weapon by which England effects her conquests. She

had, it seems, persuaded the people of Hindostan to smoke and swallow this besotting drug, till they became

so feeble in body and mind, that they were subjugated without difficulty. Some time appears to have elapsed

before the Emperor made up his mind on the point in dispute between Tang Tzee and Tchu Sing. Our

Superintendent, Captain Elliot, was of opinion that the decision would be in favour of the rational view taken

by Tang Tzee; and such, as I can myself attest, was, during part of the year 1837, the opinion of the whole

mercantile community of Calcutta. Indeed, it was expected that every ship which arrived in the Hoogley from

Canton would bring the news that the opium trade had been declared legal. Nor was it known in London till

May 1838, that the arguments of Tchu Sing had prevailed. Surely, Sir, it would have been most absurd to

order Captain Elliot to suppress this trade at a time when everybody expected that it would soon cease to be

contraband. The right honourable Baronet must, I think, himself admit that, till the month of May 1838, the

The question before us is therefore reduced to very narrow limits. It is merely this: Ought my noble friend, in

May 1838, to have sent out a despatch commanding and empowering Captain Elliot to put down the opium

trade? I do not think that it would have been right or wise to send out such a despatch. Consider, Sir, with

what powers it would have been necessary to arm the Superintendent. He must have been authorised to arrest,

to confine, to send across the sea any British subject whom he might believe to have been concerned in

introducing opium into China. I do not deny that, under the Act of Parliament, the Government might have

invested him with this dictatorship. But I do say that the Government ought not lightly to invest any man with

such a dictatorship, and, that if, in consequence of directions sent out by the Government, numerous subjects

of Her Majesty had been taken into custody and shipped off to Bengal or to England without being permitted

to wind up their affairs, this House would in all probability have called the Ministers to a strict account. Nor

do I believe that by sending such directions the Government would have averted the rupture which has taken

place. I will go further. I believe that, if such directions had been sent, we should now have been, as we are,

at war with China; and that we should have been at war in circumstances singularly dishonourable and

For, Sir, suppose that the Superintendent had been authorised and commanded by the Government to put

forth an order prohibiting British subjects from trading in opium; suppose that he had put forth such an order;

how was he to enforce it? The right honourable Baronet has had too much experience of public affairs to

imagine that a lucrative trade will be suppressed by a sheet of paper and a seal. In England we have a

preventive service which costs us half a million a year. We employ more than fifty cruisers to guard our

coasts. We have six thousand effective men whose business is to intercept smugglers. And yet everybody

knows that every article which is much desired, which is easily concealed, and which is heavily taxed, is

smuggled into our island to a great extent. The quantity of brandy which comes in without paying duty is

known to be not less than six hundred thousand gallons a year. Some people think that the quantity of tobacco

which is imported clandestinely is as great as the quantity which goes through the customhouses. Be this as

it may, there is no doubt that the illicit importation is enormous. It has been proved before a Committee of

this House that not less than four millions of pounds of tobacco have lately been smuggled into Ireland. And

all this, observe, has been done in spite of the most efficient preventive service that I believe ever existed in

the world. Consider too that the price of an ounce of opium is far, very far higher than the price of a pound of

tobacco. Knowing this, knowing that the whole power of King, Lords, and Commons cannot here put a stop

to a traffic less easy, and less profitable than the traffic in opium, can you believe that an order prohibiting the

traffic in opium would have been readily obeyed? Remember by what powerful motives both the buyer and

the seller would have been impelled to deal with each other. The buyer would have been driven to the seller

by something little short of torture, by a physical craving as fierce and impatient as any to which our race is

subject. For, when stimulants of this sort have been long used, they are desired with a rage which resembles

the rage of hunger. The seller would have been driven to the buyer by the hope of vast and rapid gain. And do

you imagine that the intense appetite on one side for what had become a necessary of life, and on the other

for riches, would have been appeased by a few lines signed Charles Elliot? The very utmost effect which it is

possible to believe that such an order would have produced would have been this, that the opium trade would

have left Canton, where the dealers were under the eye of the Superintendent, and where they would have run

some risk of being punished by him, and would have spread itself along the coast. If we know anything about

the Chinese Government, we know this, that its coastguard is neither trusty nor efficient; and we know that a

coastguard as trusty and efficient as our own would not be able to cut off communication between the

merchant longing for silver and the smoker longing for his pipe. Whole fleets of vessels would have managed

to land their cargoes along the shore. Conflicts would have arisen between our countrymen and the local

magistrates, who would not, like the authorities of Canton, have had some knowledge of European habits and

feelings. The mere malum prohibitum would, as usual, have produced the mala in se. The unlawful traffic

would inevitably have led to a crowd of acts, not only unlawful, but immoral. The smuggler would, by the

almost irresistible force of circumstances, have been turned into a pirate. We know that, even at Canton,

where the smugglers stand in some awe of the authority of the Superintendent and of the opinion of an

English society which contains many respectable persons, the illicit trade has caused many brawls and

outrages. What, then, was to be expected when every captain of a ship laden with opium would have been the

sole judge of his own conduct? It is easy to guess what would have happened. A boat is sent ashore to fill the

watercasks and to buy fresh provisions. The provisions are refused. The sailors take them by force. Then a

well is poisoned. Two or three of the ship's company die in agonies. The crew in a fury land, shoot and stab

every man whom they meet, and sack and burn a village. Is this improbable? Have not similar causes

repeatedly produced similar effects? Do we not know that the jealous vigilance with which Spain excluded

the ships of other nations from her Transatlantic possessions turned men who would otherwise have been

honest merchant adventurers into buccaneers? The same causes which raised up one race of buccaneers in the

Gulf of Mexico would soon have raised up another in the China Sea. And can we doubt what would in that

case have been the conduct of the Chinese authorities at Canton? We see that Commissioner Lin has arrested

and confined men of spotless character, men whom he had not the slightest reason to suspect of being

engaged in any illicit commerce. He did so on the ground that some of their countrymen had violated the

revenue laws of China. How then would he have acted if he had learned that the redheaded devils had not

merely been selling opium, but had been fighting, plundering, slaying, burning? Would he not have put forth

a proclamation in his most vituperative style, setting forth that the Outside Barbarians had undertaken to stop

the contraband trade, but that they had been found deceivers, that the Superintendent's edict was a mere

pretence, that there was more smuggling than ever, that to the smuggling had been added robbery and

murder, and that therefore he should detain all men of the guilty race as hostages till reparation should be

made? I say, therefore, that, if the Ministers had done that which the right honourable Baronet blames them

for not doing, we should only have reached by a worse way the point at which we now are.

I have now, Sir, gone through the four heads of the charge brought against the Government; and I say with

confidence that the interruption of our friendly relations with China cannot justly be imputed to any one of

the omissions mentioned by the right honourable Baronet. In truth, if I could feel assured that no gentleman

would vote for the motion without attentively reading it, and considering whether the proposition which it

affirms has been made out, I should have no uneasiness as to the result of this debate. But I know that no

member weighs the words of a resolution for which he is asked to vote, as he would weigh the words of an

affidavit which he was asked to swear. And I am aware that some persons, for whose humanity and honesty I

entertain the greatest respect, are inclined to divide with the right honourable Baronet, not because they think

that he has proved his case, but because they have taken up a notion that we are making war for the purpose

of forcing the Government of China to admit opium into that country, and that, therefore, we richly deserve to

be censured. Certainly, Sir, if we had been guilty of such absurdity and such atrocity as those gentlemen

impute to us, we should deserve not only censure but condign punishment. But the imputation is altogether

unfounded. Our course was clear. We may doubt indeed whether the Emperor of China judged well in

listening to Tchu Sing and disgracing Tang Tzee. We may doubt whether it be a wise policy to exclude

altogether from any country a drug which is often fatally abused, but which to those who use it rightly is one

of the most precious boons vouchsafed by Providence to man, powerful to assuage pain, to soothe irritation,

and to restore health. We may doubt whether it be a wise policy to make laws for the purpose of preventing

the precious metals from being exported in the natural course of trade. We have learned from all history, and

from our own experience, that revenue cutters, customhouse officers, informers, will never keep out of any

country foreign luxuries of small bulk for which consumers are willing to pay high prices, and will never

prevent gold and silver from going abroad in exchange for such luxuries. We cannot believe that what

England with her skilfully organised fiscal system and her gigantic marine, has never been able to effect, will

be accomplished by the junks which are at the command of the mandarins of China. But, whatever our

opinion on these points may be, we are perfectly aware that they are points which it belongs not to us but to

the Emperor of China to decide. He had a perfect right to keep out opium and to keep in silver, if he could do

so by means consistent with morality and public law. If his officers seized a chest of the forbidden drug, we

were not entitled to complain; nor did we complain. But when, finding that they could not suppress the

contraband trade by just means, they resorted to means flagrantly unjust, when they imprisoned our innocent

countrymen, when they insulted our Sovereign in the person of her representative, then it became our duty to

demand satisfaction. Whether the opium trade be a pernicious trade is not the question. Take a parallel case:

take the most execrable crime that ever was called a trade, the African slave trade. You will hardly say that a

contraband trade in opium is more immoral than a contraband trade in negroes. We prohibited slavetrading:

we made it felony; we made it piracy; we invited foreign powers to join with us in putting it down; to some

foreign powers we paid large sums in order to obtain their cooperation; we employed our naval force to

intercept the kidnappers; and yet it is notorious that, in spite of all our exertions and sacrifices, great numbers

of slaves were, even as late as ten or twelve years ago, introduced from Madagascar into our own island of

Mauritius. Assuredly it was our right, it was our duty, to guard the coasts of that island strictly, to stop slave

ships, to bring the buyers and sellers to punishment. But suppose, Sir, that a ship under French colours was

seen skulking near the island, that the Governor was fully satisfied from her build, her rigging, and her

movements, that she was a slaver, and was only waiting for the night to put on shore the wretches who were

in her hold. Suppose that, not having a sufficient naval force to seize this vessel, he were to arrest thirty or

forty French merchants, most of whom had never been suspected of slavetrading, and were to lock them up.

Suppose that he were to lay violent hands on the French consul. Suppose that the Governor were to threaten

to starve his prisoners to death unless they produced the proprietor of the slaver. Would not the French

Government in such a case have a right to demand reparation? And, if we refused reparation, would not the

French Government have a right to exact reparation by arms? And would it be enough for us to say, "This is a

wicked trade, an inhuman trade. Think of the misery of the poor creatures who are torn from their homes.

Think of the horrors of the middle passage. Will you make war in order to force us to admit slaves into our

colonies?" Surely the answer of the French would be, "We are not making war in order to force you to admit

slaves into the Mauritius. By all means keep them out. By all means punish every man, French or English,

whom you can convict of bringing them in. What we complain of is that you have confounded the innocent

with the guilty, and that you have acted towards the representative of our government in a manner

inconsistent with the law of nations. Do not, in your zeal for one great principle, trample on all the other great

principles of morality." Just such are the grounds on which Her Majesty has demanded reparation from

China. And was it not time? See, Sir, see how rapidly injury has followed injury. The Imperial

Commissioner, emboldened by the facility with which he had perpetrated the first outrage, and utterly

ignorant of the relative position of his country and ours in the scale of power and civilisation, has risen in his

requisitions. He began by confiscating property. His next demand was for innocent blood. A Chinese had

been slain. Careful inquiry was made; but it was impossible to ascertain who was the slayer, or even to what

nation the slayer belonged. No matter. It was notified to the Superintendent that some subject of the Queen,

innocent or guilty, must be delivered up to suffer death. The Superintendent refused to comply. Then our

countrymen at Canton were seized. Those who were at Macao were driven thence: not men alone, but women

with child, babies at the breast. The fugitives begged in vain for a morsel of bread. Our Lascars, people of a

different colour from ours, but still our fellowsubjects, were flung into the sea. An English gentleman was

barbarously mutilated. And was this to be borne? I am far from thinking that we ought, in our dealings with

such a people as the Chinese, to be litigious on points of etiquette. The place of our country among the

nations of the world is not so mean or so ill ascertained that we need resent mere impertinence, which is the

effect of a very pitiable ignorance. Conscious of superior power, we can bear to hear our Sovereign described

as a tributary of the Celestial Empire. Conscious of superior knowledge we can bear to hear ourselves

described as savages destitute of every useful art. When our ambassadors were required to perform a

prostration, which in Europe would have been considered as degrading, we were rather amused than irritated.

It would have been unworthy of us to have recourse to arms on account of an uncivil phrase, or of a dispute

about a ceremony. But this is not a question of phrases and ceremonies. The liberties and lives of Englishmen

are at stake: and it is fit that all nations, civilised and uncivilised, should know that, wherever the Englishman

I was much touched, and so, I dare say, were many other gentlemen, by a passage in one of Captain Elliot's

despatches. I mean that passage in which he describes his arrival at the factory in the moment of extreme

danger. As soon as he landed he was surrounded by his countrymen, all in an agony of distress and despair.

The first thing which he did was to order the British flag to be brought from his boat and planted in the

balcony. The sight immediately revived the hearts of those who had a minute before given themselves up for

lost. It was natural that they should look up with hope and confidence to that victorious flag. For it reminded

them that they belonged to a country unaccustomed to defeat, to submission, or to shame; to a country which

had exacted such reparation for the wrongs of her children as had made the ears of all who heard of it to

tingle; to a country which had made the Dey of Algiers humble himself to the dust before her insulted

Consul; to a country which had avenged the victims of the Black Hole on the Field of Plassey; to a country

which had not degenerated since the Great Protector vowed that he would make the name of Englishman as

much respected as ever had been the name of Roman citizen. They knew that, surrounded as they were by

enemies, and separated by great oceans and continents from all help, not a hair of their heads would be

harmed with impunity. On this part of the subject I believe that both the great contending parties in this

House are agreed. I did not detect in the speech of the right honourable Baronet, and I listened to that

speech with the closest attention,one word indicating that he is less disposed than we to insist on full

satisfaction for the great wrong which has been done. I cannot believe that the House will pass a vote of

censure so grossly unjust as that which he has moved. But I rejoice to think that, whether we are censured or

not, the national honour will still be safe. There may be a change of men; but, as respects China, there will be

no change of measures. I have done; and have only to express my fervent hope that this most righteous

quarrel may be prosecuted to a speedy and triumphant close; that the brave men to whom is intrusted the task

of exacting reparation may perform their duty in such a manner as to spread, throughout regions in which the

English name is hardly known, the fame not only of English skill and valour, but of English mercy and

moderation; and that the overruling care of that gracious Providence which has so often brought good out of

evil may make the war to which we have been forced the means of establishing a durable peace, beneficial

On the twentyninth of January 1841, Mr Serjeant Talfourd obtained leave to bring in a bill to amend the law

of copyright. The object of this bill was to extend the term of copyright in a book to sixty years, reckoned

On the fifth of February Mr Serjeant Talfourd moved that the bill should be read a second time. In reply to

Though, Sir, it is in some sense agreeable to approach a subject with which political animosities have nothing

to do, I offer myself to your notice with some reluctance. It is painful to me to take a course which may

possibly be misunderstood or misrepresented as unfriendly to the interests of literature and literary men. It is

painful to me, I will add, to oppose my honourable and learned friend on a question which he has taken up

from the purest motives, and which he regards with a parental interest. These feelings have hitherto kept me

silent when the law of copyright has been under discussion. But as I am, on full consideration, satisfied that

the measure before us will, if adopted, inflict grievous injury on the public, without conferring any

compensating advantage on men of letters, I think it my duty to avow that opinion and to defend it.

The first thing to be done, Sir, is to settle on what principles the question is to be argued. Are we free to

legislate for the public good, or are we not? Is this a question of expediency, or is it a question of right? Many

of those who have written and petitioned against the existing state of things treat the question as one of right.

The law of nature, according to them, gives to every man a sacred and indefeasible property in his own ideas,

in the fruits of his own reason and imagination. The legislature has indeed the power to take away this

property, just as it has the power to pass an act of attainder for cutting off an innocent man's head without a

trial. But, as such an act of attainder would be legal murder, so would an act invading the right of an author to

Now, Sir, if this be so, let justice be done, cost what it may. I am not prepared, like my honourable and

learned friend, to agree to a compromise between right and expediency, and to commit an injustice for the

public convenience. But I must say, that his theory soars far beyond the reach of my faculties. It is not

necessary to go, on the present occasion, into a metaphysical inquiry about the origin of the right of property;

and certainly nothing but the strongest necessity would lead me to discuss a subject so likely to be distasteful

to the House. I agree, I own, with Paley in thinking that property is the creature of the law, and that the law

which creates property can be defended only on this ground, that it is a law beneficial to mankind. But it is

unnecessary to debate that point. For, even if I believed in a natural right of property, independent of utility

and anterior to legislation, I should still deny that this right could survive the original proprietor. Few, I

apprehend, even of those who have studied in the most mystical and sentimental schools of moral philosophy,

will be disposed to maintain that there is a natural law of succession older and of higher authority than any

human code. If there be, it is quite certain that we have abuses to reform much more serious than any

connected with the question of copyright. For this natural law can be only one; and the modes of succession

in the Queen's dominions are twenty. To go no further than England, land generally descends to the eldest

son. In Kent the sons share and share alike. In many districts the youngest takes the whole. Formerly a

portion of a man's personal property was secured to his family; and it was only of the residue that he could

dispose by will. Now he can dispose of the whole by will: but you limited his power, a few years ago, by

enacting that the will should not be valid unless there were two witnesses. If a man dies intestate, his personal

property generally goes according to the statute of distributions; but there are local customs which modify

that statute. Now which of all these systems is conformed to the eternal standard of right? Is it primogeniture,

or gavelkind, or borough English? Are wills jure divino? Are the two witnesses jure divino? Might not the

pars rationabilis of our old law have a fair claim to be regarded as of celestial institution? Was the statute of

distributions enacted in Heaven long before it was adopted by Parliament? Or is it to Custom of York, or to

Custom of London, that this pre eminence belongs? Surely, Sir, even those who hold that there is a natural

right of property must admit that rules prescribing the manner in which the effects of deceased persons shall

be distributed are purely arbitrary, and originate altogether in the will of the legislature. If so, Sir, there is no

controversy between my honourable and learned friend and myself as to the principles on which this question

is to be argued. For the existing law gives an author copyright during his natural life; nor do I propose to

invade that privilege, which I should, on the contrary, be prepared to defend strenuously against any assailant.

The only point in issue between us is, how long after an author's death the State shall recognise a copyright in

his representatives and assigns; and it can, I think, hardly be disputed by any rational man that this is a point

which the legislature is free to determine in the way which may appear to be most conducive to the general

We may now, therefore, I think, descend from these high regions, where we are in danger of being lost in the

clouds, to firm ground and clear light. Let us look at this question like legislators, and after fairly balancing

conveniences and inconveniences, pronounce between the existing law of copyright, and the law now

proposed to us. The question of copyright, Sir, like most questions of civil prudence, is neither black nor

white, but grey. The system of copyright has great advantages and great disadvantages; and it is our business

to ascertain what these are, and then to make an arrangement under which the advantages may be as far as

possible secured, and the disadvantages as far as possible excluded. The charge which I bring against my

honourable and learned friend's bill is this, that it leaves the advantages nearly what they are at present, and

The advantages arising from a system of copyright are obvious. It is desirable that we should have a supply of

good books; we cannot have such a supply unless men of letters are liberally remunerated; and the least

objectionable way of remunerating them is by means of copyright. You cannot depend for literary instruction

and amusement on the leisure of men occupied in the pursuits of active life. Such men may occasionally

produce compositions of great merit. But you must not look to such men for works which require deep

meditation and long research. Works of that kind you can expect only from persons who make literature the

business of their lives. Of these persons few will be found among the rich and the noble. The rich and the

noble are not impelled to intellectual exertion by necessity. They may be impelled to intellectual exertion by

the desire of distinguishing themselves, or by the desire of benefiting the community. But it is generally

within these walls that they seek to signalise themselves and to serve their fellowcreatures. Both their

ambition and their public spirit, in a country like this, naturally take a political turn. It is then on men whose

profession is literature, and whose private means are not ample, that you must rely for a supply of valuable

books. Such men must be remunerated for their literary labour. And there are only two ways in which they

There have been times in which men of letters looked, not to the public, but to the government, or to a few

great men, for the reward of their exertions. It was thus in the time of Maecenas and Pollio at Rome, of the

Medici at Florence, of Louis the Fourteenth in France, of Lord Halifax and Lord Oxford in this country. Now,

Sir, I well know that there are cases in which it is fit and graceful, nay, in which it is a sacred duty to reward

the merits or to relieve the distresses of men of genius by the exercise of this species of liberality. But these

cases are exceptions. I can conceive no system more fatal to the integrity and independence of literary men

than one under which they should be taught to look for their daily bread to the favour of ministers and nobles.

I can conceive no system more certain to turn those minds which are formed by nature to be the blessings and

We have, then, only one resource left. We must betake ourselves to copyright, be the inconveniences of

and produces all the effects which the general voice of mankind attributes to monopoly. My honourable and

learned friend talks very contemptuously of those who are led away by the theory that monopoly makes

things dear. That monopoly makes things dear is certainly a theory, as all the great truths which have been

established by the experience of all ages and nations, and which are taken for granted in all reasonings, may

be said to be theories. It is a theory in the same sense in which it is a theory that day and night follow each

other, that lead is heavier than water, that bread nourishes, that arsenic poisons, that alcohol intoxicates. If, as

my honourable and learned friend seems to think, the whole world is in the wrong on this point, if the real

effect of monopoly is to make articles good and cheap, why does he stop short in his career of change? Why

does he limit the operation of so salutary a principle to sixty years? Why does he consent to anything short of

a perpetuity? He told us that in consenting to anything short of a perpetuity he was making a compromise

between extreme right and expediency. But if his opinion about monopoly be correct, extreme right and

expediency would coincide. Or rather, why should we not restore the monopoly of the East India trade to the

East India Company? Why should we not revive all those old monopolies which, in Elizabeth's reign, galled

our fathers so severely that, maddened by intolerable wrong, they opposed to their sovereign a resistance

before which her haughty spirit quailed for the first and for the last time? Was it the cheapness and excellence

of commodities that then so violently stirred the indignation of the English people? I believe, Sir, that I may

with safety take it for granted that the effect of monopoly generally is to make articles scarce, to make them

dear, and to make them bad. And I may with equal safety challenge my honourable friend to find out any

distinction between copyright and other privileges of the same kind; any reason why a monopoly of books

should produce an effect directly the reverse of that which was produced by the East India Company's

monopoly of tea, or by Lord Essex's monopoly of sweet wines. Thus, then, stands the case. It is good that

authors should be remunerated; and the least exceptionable way of remunerating them is by a monopoly. Yet

monopoly is an evil. For the sake of the good we must submit to the evil; but the evil ought not to last a day

Now, I will not affirm that the existing law is perfect, that it exactly hits the point at which the monopoly

ought to cease; but this I confidently say, that the existing law is very much nearer that point than the law

proposed by my honourable and learned friend. For consider this; the evil effects of the monopoly are

proportioned to the length of its duration. But the good effects for the sake of which we bear with the evil

effects are by no means proportioned to the length of its duration. A monopoly of sixty years produces twice

as much evil as a monopoly of thirty years, and thrice as much evil as a monopoly of twenty years. But it is

by no means the fact that a posthumous monopoly of sixty years gives to an author thrice as much pleasure

and thrice as strong a motive as a posthumous monopoly of twenty years. On the contrary, the difference is so

small as to be hardly perceptible. We all know how faintly we are affected by the prospect of very distant

advantages, even when they are advantages which we may reasonably hope that we shall ourselves enjoy. But

an advantage that is to be enjoyed more than half a century after we are dead, by somebody, we know not by

whom, perhaps by somebody unborn, by somebody utterly unconnected with us, is really no motive at all to

action. It is very probable that in the course of some generations land in the unexplored and unmapped heart

of the Australasian continent will be very valuable. But there is none of us who would lay down five pounds

for a whole province in the heart of the Australasian continent. We know, that neither we, nor anybody for

whom we care, will ever receive a farthing of rent from such a province. And a man is very little moved by

the thought that in the year 2000 or 2100, somebody who claims through him will employ more shepherds

than Prince Esterhazy, and will have the finest house and gallery of pictures at Victoria or Sydney. Now, this

is the sort of boon which my honourable and learned friend holds out to authors. Considered as a boon to

them, it is a mere nullity, but considered as an impost on the public, it is no nullity, but a very serious and

pernicious reality. I will take an example. Dr Johnson died fiftysix years ago. If the law were what my

honourable and learned friend wishes to make it, somebody would now have the monopoly of Dr Johnson's

works. Who that somebody would be it is impossible to say; but we may venture to guess. I guess, then, that

it would have been some bookseller, who was the assign of another bookseller, who was the grandson of a

third bookseller, who had bought the copyright from Black Frank, the doctor's servant and residuary legatee,

in 1785 or 1786. Now, would the knowledge that this copyright would exist in 1841 have been a source of

gratification to Johnson? Would it have stimulated his exertions? Would it have once drawn him out of his

bed before noon? Would it have once cheered him under a fit of the spleen? Would it have induced him to

give us one more allegory, one more life of a poet, one more imitation of Juvenal? I firmly believe not. I

firmly believe that a hundred years ago, when he was writing our debates for the Gentleman's Magazine, he

would very much rather have had twopence to buy a plate of shin of beef at a cook's shop underground.

Considered as a reward to him, the difference between a twenty years' and sixty years' term of posthumous

for sixpence; I might have had to give five shillings for it. I can buy the Dictionary, the entire genuine

Dictionary, for two guineas, perhaps for less; I might have had to give five or six guineas for it. Do I grudge

this to a man like Dr Johnson? Not at all. Show me that the prospect of this boon roused him to any vigorous

effort, or sustained his spirits under depressing circumstances, and I am quite willing to pay the price of such

an object, heavy as that price is. But what I do complain of is that my circumstances are to be worse, and

Johnson's none the better; that I am to give five pounds for what to him was not worth a farthing.

The principle of copyright is this. It is a tax on readers for the purpose of giving a bounty to writers. The tax

is an exceedingly bad one; it is a tax on one of the most innocent and most salutary of human pleasures; and

never let us forget, that a tax on innocent pleasures is a premium on vicious pleasures. I admit, however, the

necessity of giving a bounty to genius and learning. In order to give such a bounty, I willingly submit even to

this severe and burdensome tax. Nay, I am ready to increase the tax, if it can be shown that by so doing I

should proportionally increase the bounty. My complaint is, that my honourable and learned friend doubles,

triples, quadruples, the tax, and makes scarcely any perceptible addition to the bounty. Why, Sir, what is the

additional amount of taxation which would have been levied on the public for Dr Johnson's works alone, if

my honourable and learned friend's bill had been the law of the land? I have not data sufficient to form an

opinion. But I am confident that the taxation on his Dictionary alone would have amounted to many

thousands of pounds. In reckoning the whole additional sum which the holders of his copyrights would have

taken out of the pockets of the public during the last half century at twenty thousand pounds, I feel satisfied

that I very greatly underrate it. Now, I again say that I think it but fair that we should pay twenty thousand

pounds in consideration of twenty thousand pounds' worth of pleasure and encouragement received by Dr

Johnson. But I think it very hard that we should pay twenty thousand pounds for what he would not have

My honourable and learned friend dwells on the claims of the posterity of great writers. Undoubtedly, Sir, it

would be very pleasing to see a descendant of Shakespeare living in opulence on the fruits of his great

ancestor's genius. A house maintained in splendour by such a patrimony would be a more interesting and

striking object than Blenheim is to us, or than Strathfieldsaye will be to our children. But, unhappily, it is

scarcely possible that, under any system, such a thing can come to pass. My honourable and learned friend

does not propose that copyright shall descend to the eldest son, or shall be bound up by irrecoverable entail. It

is to be merely personal property. It is therefore highly improbable that it will descend during sixty years or

half that term from parent to child. The chance is that more people than one will have an interest in it. They

will in all probability sell it and divide the proceeds. The price which a bookseller will give for it will bear no

proportion to the sum which he will afterwards draw from the public, if his speculation proves successful. He

will give little, if anything, more for a term of sixty years than for a term of thirty or five and twenty. The

present value of a distant advantage is always small; but when there is great room to doubt whether a distant

advantage will be any advantage at all, the present value sink to almost nothing. Such is the inconstancy of

the public taste that no sensible man will venture to pronounce, with confidence, what the sale of any book

published in our days will be in the years between 1890 and 1900. The whole fashion of thinking and writing

has often undergone a change in a much shorter period than that to which my honourable and learned friend

would extend posthumous copyright. What would have been considered the best literary property in the

earlier part of Charles the Second's reign? I imagine Cowley's Poems. Overleap sixty years, and you are in the

generation of which Pope asked, "Who now reads Cowley?" What works were ever expected with more

impatience by the public than those of Lord Bolingbroke, which appeared, I think, in 1754? In 1814, no

bookseller would have thanked you for the copyright of them all, if you had offered it to him for nothing.

What would Paternoster Row give now for the copyright of Hayley's Triumphs of Temper, so much admired

within the memory of many people still living? I say, therefore, that, from the very nature of literary property,

it will almost always pass away from an author's family; and I say, that the price given for it to the family will

bear a very small proportion to the tax which the purchaser, if his speculation turns out well, will in the

If, Sir, I wished to find a strong and perfect illustration of the effects which I anticipate from long copyright, I

should select,my honourable and learned friend will be surprised,I should select the case of Milton's

granddaughter. As often as this bill has been under discussion, the fate of Milton's granddaughter has been

brought forward by the advocates of monopoly. My honourable and learned friend has repeatedly told the

story with great eloquence and effect. He has dilated on the sufferings, on the abject poverty, of this illfated

woman, the last of an illustrious race. He tells us that, in the extremity of her distress, Garrick gave her a

benefit, that Johnson wrote a prologue, and that the public contributed some hundreds of pounds. Was it fit,

he asks, that she should receive, in this eleemosynary form, a small portion of what was in truth a debt? Why,

he asks, instead of obtaining a pittance from charity, did she not live in comfort and luxury on the proceeds of

the sale of her ancestor's works? But, Sir, will my honourable and learned friend tell me that this event, which

he has so often and so pathetically described, was caused by the shortness of the term of copyright? Why, at

that time, the duration of copyright was longer than even he, at present, proposes to make it. The monopoly

lasted, not sixty years, but for ever. At the time at which Milton's granddaughter asked charity, Milton's

works were the exclusive property of a bookseller. Within a few months of the day on which the benefit was

given at Garrick's theatre, the holder of the copyright of Paradise Lost,I think it was Tonson,applied to

the Court of Chancery for an injunction against a bookseller who had published a cheap edition of the great

epic poem, and obtained the injunction. The representation of Comus was, if I remember rightly, in 1750; the

injunction in 1752. Here, then, is a perfect illustration of the effect of long copyright. Milton's works are the

property of a single publisher. Everybody who wants them must buy them at Tonson's shop, and at Tonson's

price. Whoever attempts to undersell Tonson is harassed with legal proceedings. Thousands who would

gladly possess a copy of Paradise Lost, must forego that great enjoyment. And what, in the meantime, is the

situation of the only person for whom we can suppose that the author, protected at such a cost to the public,

was at all interested? She is reduced to utter destitution. Milton's works are under a monopoly. Milton's

granddaughter is starving. The reader is pillaged; but the writer's family is not enriched. Society is taxed

doubly. It has to give an exorbitant price for the poems; and it has at the same time to give alms to the only

But this is not all. I think it right, Sir, to call the attention of the House to an evil, which is perhaps more to be

apprehended when an author's copyright remains in the hands of his family, than when it is transferred to

booksellers. I seriously fear that, if such a measure as this should be adopted, many valuable works will be

either totally suppressed or grievously mutilated. I can prove that this danger is not chimerical; and I am quite

certain that, if the danger be real, the safeguards which my honourable and learned friend has devised are

altogether nugatory. That the danger is not chimerical may easily be shown. Most of us, I am sure, have

known persons who, very erroneously as I think, but from the best motives, would not choose to reprint

Fielding's novels, or Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Some gentlemen may

perhaps be of opinion that it would be as well if Tom Jones and Gibbon's History were never reprinted. I will

not, then, dwell on these or similar cases. I will take cases respecting which it is not likely that there will be

any difference of opinion here; cases, too, in which the danger of which I now speak is not matter of

supposition, but matter of fact. Take Richardson's novels. Whatever I may, on the present occasion, think of

my honourable and learned friend's judgment as a legislator, I must always respect his judgment as a critic.

He will, I am sure, say that Richardson's novels are among the most valuable, among the most original works

in our language. No writings have done more to raise the fame of English genius in foreign countries. No

writings are more deeply pathetic. No writings, those of Shakspeare excepted, show more profound

knowledge of the human heart. As to their moral tendency, I can cite the most respectable testimony. Dr

Johnson describes Richardson as one who had taught the passions to move at the command of virtue. My dear

and honoured friend, Mr Wilberforce, in his celebrated religious treatise, when speaking of the unchristian

tendency of the fashionable novels of the eighteenth century, distinctly excepts Richardson from the censure.

Another excellent person, whom I can never mention without respect and kindness, Mrs Hannah More, often

declared in conversation, and has declared in one of her published poems, that she first learned from the

writings of Richardson those principles of piety by which her life was guided. I may safely say that books

celebrated as works of art through the whole civilised world, and praised for their moral tendency by Dr

Johnson, by Mr Wilberforce, by Mrs Hannah More, ought not to be suppressed. Sir, it is my firm belief, that

if the law had been what my honourable and learned friend proposes to make it, they would have been

suppressed. I remember Richardson's grandson well; he was a clergyman in the city of London; he was a

most upright and excellent man; but he had conceived a strong prejudice against works of fiction. He thought

all novelreading not only frivolous but sinful. He said,this I state on the authority of one of his clerical

brethren who is now a bishop,he said that he had never thought it right to read one of his grandfather's

books. Suppose, Sir, that the law had been what my honourable and learned friend would make it. Suppose

that the copyright of Richardson's novels had descended, as might well have been the case, to this gentleman.

I firmly believe, that he would have thought it sinful to give them a wide circulation. I firmly believe, that he

would not for a hundred thousand pounds have deliberately done what he thought sinful. He would not have

reprinted them. And what protection does my honourable and learned friend give to the public in such a case?

Why, Sir, what he proposes is this: if a book is not reprinted during five years, any person who wishes to

reprint it may give notice in the London Gazette: the advertisement must be repeated three times: a year must

elapse; and then, if the proprietor of the copyright does not put forth a new edition, he loses his exclusive

privilege. Now, what protection is this to the public? What is a new edition? Does the law define the number

of copies that make an edition? Does it limit the price of a copy? Are twelve copies on large paper, charged at

thirty guineas each, an edition? It has been usual, when monopolies have been granted, to prescribe numbers

and to limit prices. But I did not find the my honourable and learned friend proposes to do so in the present

case. And, without some such provision, the security which he offers is manifestly illusory. It is my

conviction that, under such a system as that which he recommends to us, a copy of Clarissa would have been

I will give another instance. One of the most instructive, interesting, and delightful books in our language is

Boswell's Life of Johnson. Now it is well known that Boswell's eldest son considered this book, considered

the whole relation of Boswell to Johnson, as a blot in the escutcheon of the family. He thought, not perhaps

altogether without reason, that his father had exhibited himself in a ludicrous and degrading light. And thus

he became so sore and irritable that at last he could not bear to hear the Life of Johnson mentioned. Suppose

that the law had been what my honourable and learned friend wishes to make it. Suppose that the copyright of

Boswell's Life of Johnson had belonged, as it well might, during sixty years, to Boswell's eldest son. What

would have been the consequence? An unadulterated copy of the finest biographical work in the world would

These are strong cases. I have shown you that, if the law had been what you are now going to make it, the

finest prose work of fiction in the language, the finest biographical work in the language, would very

probably have been suppressed. But I have stated my case weakly. The books which I have mentioned are

singularly inoffensive books, books not touching on any of those questions which drive even wise men

beyond the bounds of wisdom. There are books of a very different kind, books which are the rallying points

of great political and religious parties. What is likely to happen if the copyright of one of the these books

should by descent or transfer come into the possession of some hostile zealot? I will take a single instance. It

is only fifty years since John Wesley died; and all his works, if the law had been what my honourable and

learned friend wishes to make it, would now have been the property of some person or other. The sect

founded by Wesley is the most numerous, the wealthiest, the most powerful, the most zealous of sects. In

every parliamentary election it is a matter of the greatest importance to obtain the support of the Wesleyan

Methodists. Their numerical strength is reckoned by hundreds of thousands. They hold the memory of their

founder in the greatest reverence; and not without reason, for he was unquestionably a great and a good man.

To his authority they constantly appeal. His works are in their eyes of the highest value. His doctrinal

writings they regard as containing the best system of theology ever deduced from Scripture. His journals,

interesting even to the common reader, are peculiarly interesting to the Methodist: for they contain the whole

history of that singular polity which, weak and despised in its beginning, is now, after the lapse of a century,

so strong, so flourishing, and so formidable. The hymns to which he gave his imprimatur are a most

important part of the public worship of his followers. Now, suppose that the copyright of these works should

belong to some person who holds the memory of Wesley and the doctrines and discipline of the Methodists in

abhorrence. There are many such persons. The Ecclesiastical Courts are at this very time sitting on the case of

a clergyman of the Established Church who refused Christian burial to a child baptized by a Methodist

preacher. I took up the other day a work which is considered as among the most respectable organs of a large

and growing party in the Church of England, and there I saw John Wesley designated as a forsworn priest.

Suppose that the works of Wesley were suppressed. Why, Sir, such a grievance would be enough to shake the

foundations of Government. Let gentlemen who are attached to the Church reflect for a moment what their

feelings would be if the Book of Common Prayer were not to be reprinted for thirty or forty years, if the price

of a Book of Common Prayer were run up to five or ten guineas. And then let them determine whether they

will pass a law under which it is possible, under which it is probable, that so intolerable a wrong may be done

I am so sensible, Sir, of the kindness with which the House has listened to me, that I will not detain you

longer. I will only say this, that if the measure before us should pass, and should produce onetenth part of

the evil which it is calculated to produce, and which I fully expect it to produce, there will soon be a remedy,

though of a very objectionable kind. Just as the absurd acts which prohibited the sale of game were virtually

repealed by the poacher, just as many absurd revenue acts have been virtually repealed by the smuggler, so

will this law be virtually repealed by piratical booksellers. At present the holder of copyright has the public

feeling on his side. Those who invade copyright are regarded as knaves who take the bread out of the mouths

of deserving men. Everybody is well pleased to see them restrained by the law, and compelled to refund their

illgotten gains. No tradesman of good repute will have anything to do with such disgraceful transactions.

Pass this law: and that feeling is at an end. Men very different from the present race of piratical booksellers

will soon infringe this intolerable monopoly. Great masses of capital will be constantly employed in the

violation of the law. Every art will be employed to evade legal pursuit; and the whole nation will be in the

plot. On which side indeed should the public sympathy be when the question is whether some book as

popular as Robinson Crusoe, or the Pilgrim's Progress, shall be in every cottage, or whether it shall be

confined to the libraries of the rich for the advantage of the greatgrandson of a bookseller who, a hundred

years before, drove a hard bargain for the copyright with the author when in great distress? Remember too

that, when once it ceases to be considered as wrong and discreditable to invade literary property, no person

can say where the invasion will stop. The public seldom makes nice distinctions. The wholesome copyright

which now exists will share in the disgrace and danger of the new copyright which you are about to create.

And you will find that, in attempting to impose unreasonable restraints on the reprinting of the works of the

dead, you have, to a great extent, annulled those restraints which now prevent men from pillaging and

defrauding the living. If I saw, Sir, any probability that this bill could be so amended in the Committee that

my objections might be removed, I would not divide the House in this stage. But I am so fully convinced that

no alteration which would not seem insupportable to my honourable and learned friend, could render his

measure supportable to me, that I must move, though with regret, that this bill be read a second time this day

On the third of March 1842, Lord Mahon obtained permission to bring in a bill to amend the Law of

On the sixth of April the House went into Committee on the bill, and Mr Greene took the Chair. Several

divisions took place, of which the result was that the plan suggested in the following Speech was, with some

Mr Greene,I have been amused and gratified by the remarks which my noble friend (Lord Mahon.) has

made on the arguments by which I prevailed on the last House of Commons to reject the bill introduced by a

very able and accomplished man, Mr Serjeant Talfourd. My noble friend has done me a high and rare honour.

For this is, I believe, the first occasion on which a speech made in one Parliament has been answered in

another. I should not find it difficult to vindicate the soundness of the reasons which I formerly urged, to set

them in a clearer light, and to fortify them by additional facts. But it seems to me that we had better discuss

the bill which is now on our table than the bill which was there fourteen months ago. Glad I am to find that

there is a very wide difference between the two bills, and that my noble friend, though he has tried to refute

my arguments, has acted as if he had been convinced by them. I objected to the term of sixty years as far too

long. My noble friend has cut that term down to twentyfive years. I warned the House that, under the

provisions of Mr Serjeant Talfourd's bill, valuable works might not improbably be suppressed by the

representatives of authors. My noble friend has prepared a clause which, as he thinks, will guard against that

danger. I will not, therefore, waste the time of the Committee by debating points which he has conceded, but

Sir, I have no objection to the principle of my noble friend's bill. Indeed, I had no objection to the principle of

the bill of last year. I have long thought that the term of copyright ought to be extended. When Mr Serjeant

Talfourd moved for leave to bring in his bill, I did not oppose the motion. Indeed I meant to vote for the

second reading, and to reserve what I had to say for the Committee. But the learned Serjeant left me no

choice. He, in strong language, begged that nobody who was disposed to reduce the term of sixty years would

divide with him. "Do not," he said, "give me your support, if all that you mean to grant to men of letters is a

miserable addition of fourteen or fifteen years to the present term. I do not wish for such support. I despise

it." Not wishing to obtrude on the learned Serjeant a support which he despised, I had no course left but to

take the sense of the House on the second reading. The circumstances are now different. My noble friend's

bill is not at present a good bill; but it may be improved into a very good bill; nor will he, I am persuaded,

withdraw it if it should be so improved. He and I have the same object in view; but we differ as to the best

mode of attaining that object. We are equally desirous to extend the protection now enjoyed by writers. In

what way it may be extended with most benefit to them and with least inconvenience to the public, is the

The present state of the law is this. The author of a work has a certain copyright in that work for a term of

twentyeight years. If he should live more than twentyeight years after the publication of the work, he

My noble friend does not propose to make any addition to the term of twentyeight years. But he proposes

that the copyright shall last twentyfive years after the author's death. Thus my noble friend makes no

addition to that term which is certain, but makes a very large addition to that term which is uncertain.

My plan is different. I would made no addition to the uncertain term; but I would make a large addition to the

certain term. I propose to add fourteen years to the twentyeight years which the law now allows to an

author. His copyright will, in this way, last till his death, or till the expiration of fortytwo years, whichever

shall first happen. And I think that I shall be able to prove to the satisfaction of the Committee that my plan

will be more beneficial to literature and to literary men than the plan of my noble friend.

It must surely, Sir, be admitted that the protection which we give to books ought to be distributed as evenly as

possible, that every book should have a fair share of that protection, and no book more than a fair share. It

would evidently be absurd to put tickets into a wheel, with different numbers marked upon them, and to make

writers draw, one a term of twentyeight years, another a term of fifty, another a term of ninety. And yet this

sort of lottery is what my noble friend proposes to establish. I know that we cannot altogether exclude

chance. You have two terms of copyright; one certain, the other uncertain; and we cannot, I admit, get rid of

the uncertain term. It is proper, no doubt, that an author's copyright should last during his life. But, Sir,

though we cannot altogether exclude chance, we can very much diminish the share which chance must have

in distributing the recompense which we wish to give to genius and learning. By every addition which we

make to the certain term we diminish the influence of chance; by every addition which we make to the

uncertain term we increase the influence of chance. I shall make myself best understood by putting cases.

Take two eminent female writers, who died within our own memory, Madame D'Arblay and Miss Austen. As

the law now stands, Miss Austen's charming novels would have only from twentyeight to thirtythree years

of copyright. For that extraordinary woman died young: she died before her genius was fully appreciated by

the world. Madame D'Arblay outlived the whole generation to which she belonged. The copyright of her

celebrated novel, Evelina, lasted, under the present law, sixtytwo years. Surely this inequality is sufficiently

greatsixtytwo years of copyright for Evelina, only twentyeight for Persuasion. But to my noble friend

this inequality seems not great enough. He proposes to add twenty five years to Madame D'Arblay's term,

and not a single day to Miss Austen's term. He would give to Persuasion a copyright of only twentyeight

years, as at present, and to Evelina a copyright more than three times as long, a copyright of eighty seven

years. Now, is this reasonable? See, on the other hand, the operation of my plan. I make no addition at all to

Madame D'Arblay's term of sixtytwo years, which is, in my opinion, quite long enough; but I extend Miss

Austen's term to fortytwo years, which is, in my opinion, not too much. You see, Sir, that at present chance

has too much sway in this matter: that at present the protection which the State gives to letters is very

unequally given. You see that if my noble friend's plan be adopted, more will be left to chance than under the

present system, and you will have such inequalities as are unknown under the present system. You see also

that, under the system which I recommend, we shall have, not perfect certainty, not perfect equality, but

But this is not all. My noble friend's plan is not merely to institute a lottery in which some writers will draw

prizes and some will draw blanks. It is much worse than this. His lottery is so contrived that, in the vast

majority of cases, the blanks will fall to the best books, and the prizes to books of inferior merit.

Take Shakspeare. My noble friend gives a longer protection than I should give to Love's Labour's Lost, and

Pericles, Prince of Tyre; but he gives a shorter protection than I should give to Othello and Macbeth.

Take Milton. Milton died in 1674. The copyrights of Milton's great works would, according to my noble

friend's plan, expire in 1699. Comus appeared in 1634, the Paradise Lost in 1668. To Comus, then, my noble

friend would give sixtyfive years of copyright, and to the Paradise Lost only thirtyone years. Is that

reasonable? Comus is a noble poem: but who would rank it with the Paradise Lost? My plan would give

Let us pass on from Milton to Dryden. My noble friend would give more than sixty years of copyright to

Dryden's worst works; to the encomiastic verses on Oliver Cromwell, to the Wild Gallant, to the Rival

Ladies, to other wretched pieces as bad as anything written by Flecknoe or Settle: but for Theodore and

Honoria, for Tancred and Sigismunda, for Cimon and Iphigenia, for Palamon and Arcite, for Alexander's

Feast, my noble friend thinks a copyright of twentyeight years sufficient. Of all Pope's works, that to which

my noble friend would give the largest measure of protection is the volume of Pastorals, remarkable only as

the production of a boy. Johnson's first work was a Translation of a Book of Travels in Abyssinia, published

in 1735. It was so poorly executed that in his later years he did not like to hear it mentioned. Boswell once

picked up a copy of it, and told his friend that he had done so. "Do not talk about it," said Johnson: "it is a

thing to be forgotten." To this performance my noble friend would give protection during the enormous term

of seventyfive years. To the Lives of the Poets he would give protection during about thirty years. Well;

take Henry Fielding; it matters not whom I take, but take Fielding. His early works are read only by the

curious, and would not be read even by the curious, but for the fame which he acquired in the latter part of his

life by works of a very different kind. What is the value of the Temple Beau, of the Intriguing Chambermaid,

of half a dozen other plays of which few gentlemen have even heard the names? Yet to these worthless pieces

my noble friend would give a term of copyright longer by more than twenty years than that which he would

Go on to Burke. His little tract, entitled the Vindication of Natural Society is certainly not without merit; but

it would not be remembered in our days if it did not bear the name of Burke. To this tract my noble friend

would give a copyright of near seventy years. But to the great work on the French Revolution, to the Appeal

from the New to the Old Whigs, to the letters on the Regicide Peace, he would give a copyright of thirty years

And, Sir observe that I am not selecting here and there extraordinary instances in order to make up the

semblance of a case. I am taking the greatest names of our literature in chronological order. Go to other

nations; go to remote ages; you will still find the general rule the same. There was no copyright at Athens or

Rome; but the history of the Greek and Latin literature illustrates my argument quite as well as if copyright

had existed in ancient times. Of all the plays of Sophocles, the one to which the plan of my noble friend

would have given the most scanty recompense would have been that wonderful masterpiece, the Oedipus at

Colonos. Who would class together the Speech of Demosthenes against his Guardians, and the Speech for the

Crown? My noble friend, indeed, would not class them together. For to the Speech against the Guardians he

would give a copyright of near seventy years, and to the incomparable Speech for the Crown a copyright of

less than half that length. Go to Rome. My noble friend would give more than twice as long a term to Cicero's

juvenile declamation in defence of Roscius Amerinus as to the Second Philippic. Go to France. My noble

friend would give a far longer term to Racine's Freres Ennemis than to Athalie, and to Moliere's Etourdi than

to Tartuffe. Go to Spain. My noble friend would give a longer term to forgotten works of Cervantes, works

which nobody now reads, than to Don Quixote. Go to Germany. According to my noble friend's plan, of all

the works of Schiller the Robbers would be the most favoured: of all the works of Goethe, the Sorrows of

Werter would be the most favoured. I thank the Committee for listening so kindly to this long enumeration.

Gentlemen will perceive, I am sure, that it is not from pedantry that I mention the names of so many books

and authors. But just as, in our debates on civil affairs, we constantly draw illustrations from civil history, we

must, in a debate about literary property, draw our illustrations from literary history. Now, Sir, I have, I think,

shown from literary history that the effect of my noble friend's plan would be to give to crude and imperfect

works, to thirdrate and fourthrate works, a great advantage over the highest productions of genius. It is

impossible to account for the facts which I have laid before you by attributing them to mere accident. Their

number is too great, their character too uniform. We must seek for some other explanation; and we shall

It is the law of our nature that the mind shall attain its full power by slow degrees; and this is especially true

of the most vigorous minds. Young men, no doubt, have often produced works of great merit; but it would be

impossible to name any writer of the first order whose juvenile performances were his best. That all the most

valuable books of history, of philology, of physical and metaphysical science, of divinity, of political

economy, have been produced by men of mature years will hardly be disputed. The case may not be quite so

clear as respects works of the imagination. And yet I know no work of the imagination of the very highest

class that was ever, in any age or country, produced by a man under thirtyfive. Whatever powers a youth

may have received from nature, it is impossible that his taste and judgment can be ripe, that his mind can be

richly stored with images, that he can have observed the vicissitudes of life, that he can have studied the nicer

shades of character. How, as Marmontel very sensibly said, is a person to paint portraits who has never seen

faces? On the whole, I believe that I may, without fear of contradiction, affirm this, that of the good books

now extant in the world more than nineteentwentieths were published after the writers had attained the age

of forty. If this be so, it is evident that the plan of my noble friend is framed on a vicious principle. For, while

he gives to juvenile productions a very much larger protection than they now enjoy, he does comparatively

little for the works of men in the full maturity of their powers, and absolutely nothing for any work which is

published during the last three years of the life of the writer. For, by the existing law, the copyright of such a

work lasts twentyeight years from the publication; and my noble friend gives only twentyfive years, to be

What I recommend is that the certain term, reckoned from the date of publication, shall be fortytwo years

instead of twentyeight years. In this arrangement there is no uncertainty, no inequality. The advantage

which I propose to give will be the same to every book. No work will have so long a copyright as my noble

friend gives to some books, or so short a copyright as he gives to others. No copyright will last ninety years.

No copyright will end in twentyeight years. To every book published in the course of the last seventeen

years of a writer's life I give a longer term of copyright than my noble friend gives; and I am confident that no

person versed in literary history will deny this,that in general the most valuable works of an author are

published in the course of the last seventeen years of his life. I will rapidly enumerate a few, and but a few, of

the great works of English writers to which my plan is more favourable than my noble friend's plan. To Lear,

to Macbeth, to Othello, to the Fairy Queen, to the Paradise Lost, to Bacon's Novum Organum and De

Augmentis, to Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding, to Clarendon's History, to Hume's History, to

Gibbon's History, to Smith's Wealth of Nations, to Addison's Spectators, to almost all the great works of

Burke, to Clarissa and Sir Charles Grandison, to Joseph Andrews, Tom Jones and Amelia, and, with the

single exception of Waverley, to all the novels of Sir Walter Scott, I give a longer term of copyright than my

noble friend gives. Can he match that list? Does not that list contain what England has produced greatest in

many various wayspoetry, philosophy, history, eloquence, wit, skilful portraiture of life and manners? I

confidently therefore call on the Committee to take my plan in preference to the plan of my noble friend. I

have shown that the protection which he proposes to give to letters is unequal, and unequal in the worst way.

I have shown that his plan is to give protection to books in inverse proportion to their merit. I shall move

when we come to the third clause of the bill to omit the words "twentyfive years," and in a subsequent part

of the same clause I shall move to substitute for the words "twentyeight years" the words "fortytwo years."

I earnestly hope that the Committee will adopt these amendments; and I feel the firmest conviction that my

noble friend's bill, so amended, will confer a great boon on men of letters with the smallest possible

On the second of May 1842, Mr Thomas Duncombe, Member for Finsbury, presented a petition, very

"Your petitioners, therefore, exercising their just constitutional right, demand that your Honourable House, to

remedy the many gross and manifest evils of which your petitioners complain, do immediately, without

alteration, deduction, or addition, pass into a law the document entitled the People's Charter."

On the following day Mr Thomas Duncombe moved that the petitioners should be heard by themselves or

their Counsel at the Bar of the House. The following Speech was made in opposition to the motion.

Mr Speaker,I was particularly desirous to catch your eye this evening, because, when the motion of the

honourable Member of Rochdale (Mr Sharman Crawford.) was under discussion, I was unable to be in my

place. I understand that, on that occasion, the absence of some members of the late Government was noticed

in severe terms, and was attributed to discreditable motives. As for myself, Sir, I was prevented from coming

down to the House by illness: a noble friend of mine, to whom particular allusion was made, was detained

elsewhere by pure accident; and I am convinced that no member of the late administration was withheld by

any unworthy feeling from avowing his opinions. My own opinions I could have no motive for disguising.

They have been frequently avowed, and avowed before audiences which were not likely to regard them with

I should wish, Sir, to say what I have to say in the temperate tone which has with so much propriety been

preserved by the right honourable Baronet the Secretary for the Home Department (Sir James Graham.); but,

if I should use any warm expression, I trust that the House will attribute it to the strength of my convictions

and to my solicitude for the public interests. No person who knows me will, I am quite sure, suspect me of

regarding the hundreds of thousands who have signed the petition which we are now considering, with any

Sir, I cannot conscientiously assent to this motion. And yet I must admit that the honourable Member for

Finsbury (Mr Thomas Duncombe.) has framed it with considerable skill. He has done his best to obtain the

support of all those timid and interested politicians who think much more about the security of their seats

than about the security of their country. It would be very convenient to me to give a silent vote with him. I

should then have it in my power to say to the Chartists of Edinburgh, "When your petition was before the

House I was on your side: I was for giving you a full hearing." I should at the same time be able to assure my

Conservative constituents that I never had supported and never would support the Charter. But, Sir, though

this course would be very convenient, it is one which my sense of duty will not suffer me to take. When

questions of private right are before us, we hear, and we ought to hear, the arguments of the parties interested

in those questions. But it has never been, and surely it ought not to be, our practice to grant a hearing to

persons who petition for or against a law in which they have no other interest than that which is common

between them and the whole nation. Of the many who petitioned against slavery, against the Roman Catholic

claims, against the corn laws, none was suffered to harangue us at the bar in support of his views. If in the

present case we depart from a general rule which everybody must admit to be a very wholesome one, what

inference can reasonably be drawn from our conduct, except this, that we think the petition which we are now

considering entitled to extraordinary respect, and that we have not fully made up our minds to refuse what the

petitioners ask? Now, Sir, I have fully made up my mind to resist to the last the change which they urge us to

make in the constitution of the kingdom. I therefore think that I should act disingenuously if I gave my voice

for calling in orators whose eloquence, I am certain, will make no alteration in my opinion. I think too that if,

after voting for hearing the petitioners, I should then vote against granting their prayer, I should give them

just ground for accusing me of having first encouraged and then deserted them. That accusation, at least, they

The honourable Member for Westminster (Mr Leader.) has expressed a hope that the language of the petition

will not be subjected to severe criticism. If he means literary criticism, I entirely agree with him. The style of

this composition is safe from any censure of mine; but the substance it is absolutely necessary that we should

closely examine. What the petitioners demand is this, that we do forthwith pass what is called the People's

Charter into a law without alteration, diminution, or addition. This is the prayer in support of which the

honourable Member for Finsbury would have us hear an argument at the bar. Is it then reasonable to say, as

some gentlemen have said, that, in voting for the honourable Member's motion, they mean to vote merely for

an inquiry into the causes of the public distress? If any gentleman thinks that an inquiry into the causes of the

public distress would be useful, let him move for such an inquiry. I will not oppose it. But this petition does

not tell us to inquire. It tells us that we are not to inquire. It directs us to pass a certain law word for word, and

I shall, Sir, notwithstanding the request or command of the petitioners, venture to exercise my right of free

speech on the subject of the People's Charter. There is, among the six points of the Charter, one for which I

have voted. There is another of which I decidedly approve. There are others as to which, though I do not

agree with the petitioners, I could go some way to meet them. In fact, there is only one of the six points on

which I am diametrically opposed to them: but unfortunately that point happens to be infinitely the most

One of the six points is the ballot. I have voted for the ballot; and I have seen no reason to change my opinion

Another point is the abolition of the pecuniary qualification for members of this House. On that point I

cordially agree with the petitioners. You have established a sufficient pecuniary qualification for the elector;

and it therefore seems to me quite superfluous to require a pecuniary qualification from the representative.

Everybody knows that many English members have only fictitious qualifications, and that the members for

Scotch cities and boroughs are not required to have any qualification at all. It is surely absurd to admit the

representatives of Edinburgh and Glasgow without any qualification, and at the same time to require the

representative of Finsbury or Marylebone to possess a qualification or the semblance of one. If the

qualification really be a security for respectability, let that security be demanded from us who sit here for

Scotch towns. If, as I believe, the qualification is no security at all, why should we require it from anybody?

It is no part of the old constitution of the realm. It was first established in the reign of Anne. It was

established by a bad parliament for a bad purpose. It was, in fact, part of a course of legislation which, if it

had not been happily interrupted, would have ended in the repeal of the Toleration Act and of the Act of

The Chartists demand annual parliaments. There, certainly, I differ from them; but I might, perhaps, be

willing to consent to some compromise. I differ from them also as to the expediency of paying the

representatives of the people, and of dividing the country into electoral districts. But I do not consider these

matters as vital. The kingdom might, I acknowledge, be free, great, and happy, though the members of this

house received salaries, and though the present boundaries of counties and boroughs were superseded by new

lines of demarcation. These, Sir, are subordinate questions. I do not of course mean that they are not

important. But they are subordinate when compared with that question which still remains to be considered.

The essence of the Charter is universal suffrage. If you withhold that, it matters not very much what else you

grant. If you grant that, it matters not at all what else you withhold. If you grant that, the country is lost.

I have no blind attachment to ancient usages. I altogether disclaim what has been nicknamed the doctrine of

finality. I have said enough tonight to show that I do not consider the settlement made by the Reform Bill as

one which can last for ever. I certainly do think that an extensive change in the polity of a nation must be

attended with serious evils. Still those evils may be overbalanced by advantages: and I am perfectly ready, in

every case, to weigh the evils against the advantages, and to judge as well as I can which scale preponderates.

I am bound by no tie to oppose any reform which I think likely to promote the public good. I will go so far as

to say that I do not quite agree with those who think that they have proved the People's Charter to be absurd

when they have proved that it is incompatible with the existence of the throne and of the peerage. For, though

I am a faithful and loyal subject of Her Majesty, and though I sincerely wish to see the House of Lords

powerful and respected, I cannot consider either monarchy or aristocracy as the ends of government. They are

only means. Nations have flourished without hereditary sovereigns or assemblies of nobles; and, though I

should be very sorry to see England a republic, I do not doubt that she might, as a republic, enjoy prosperity,

tranquillity, and high consideration. The dread and aversion with which I regard universal suffrage would be

greatly diminished, if I could believe that the worst effect which it would produce would be to give us an

elective first magistrate and a senate instead of a Queen and a House of Peers. My firm conviction is that, in

our country, universal suffrage is incompatible, not with this or that form of government, but with all forms

of government, and with everything for the sake of which forms of government exist; that it is incompatible

It is not necessary for me in this place to go through the arguments which prove beyond dispute that on the

security of property civilisation depends; that, where property is insecure, no climate however delicious, no

soil however fertile, no conveniences for trade and navigation, no natural endowments of body or of mind,

can prevent a nation from sinking into barbarism; that where, on the other hand, men are protected in the

enjoyment of what has been created by their industry and laid up by their selfdenial, society will advance in

arts and in wealth notwithstanding the sterility of the earth and the inclemency of the air, notwithstanding

heavy taxes and destructive wars. Those persons who say that England has been greatly misgoverned, that her

legislation is defective, that her wealth has been squandered in unjust and impolitic contests with America

and with France, do in fact bear the strongest testimony to the truth of my doctrine. For that our country has

made and is making great progress in all that contributes to the material comfort of man is indisputable. If

that progress cannot be ascribed to the wisdom of the Government, to what can we ascribe it but to the

diligence, the energy, the thrift of individuals? And to what can we ascribe that diligence, that energy, that

thrift, except to the security which property has during many generations enjoyed here? Such is the power of

this great principle that, even in the last war, the most costly war, beyond all comparison, that ever was

waged in this world, the Government could not lavish wealth so fast as the productive classes created it.

If it be admitted that on the institution of property the well being of society depends, it follows surely that it

would be madness to give supreme power in the state to a class which would not be likely to respect that

institution. And, if this be conceded, it seems to me to follow that it would be madness to grant the prayer of

this petition. I entertain no hope that, if we place the government of the kingdom in the hands of the majority

of the males of oneandtwenty told by the head, the institution of property will be respected. If I am asked

why I entertain no such hope, I answer, because the hundreds of thousands of males of twentyone who have

signed this petition tell me to entertain no such hope; because they tell me that, if I trust them with power, the

first use which they will make of it will be to plunder every man in the kingdom who has a good coat on his

back and a good roof over his head. God forbid that I should put an unfair construction on their language! I

will read their own words. This petition, be it remembered, is an authoritative declaration of the wishes of

those who, if the Charter ever becomes law, will return the great majority of the House of Commons; and

these are their words: "Your petitioners complain, that they are enormously taxed to pay the interest of what

is called the national debt, a debt amounting at present to eight hundred millions, being only a portion of the

enormous amount expended in cruel and expensive wars for the suppression of all liberty by men not

authorised by the people, and who consequently had no right to tax posterity for the outrages committed by

them upon mankind." If these words mean anything, they mean that the present generation is not bound to

pay the public debt incurred by our rulers in past times, and that a national bankruptcy would be both just and

politic. For my part, I believe it to be impossible to make any distinction between the right of a fundholder to

his dividends and the right of a landowner to his rents. And, to do the petitioners justice, I must say that they

seem to be much of the same mind. They are for dealing with fundholder and landowner alike. They tell us

that nothing will "unshackle labour from its misery, until the people possess that power under which all

monopoly and oppression must cease; and your petitioners respectfully mention the existing monopolies of

the suffrage, of paper money, of machinery, of land, of the public press, of religion, of the means of travelling

and transit, and a host of other evils too numerous to mention, all arising from class legislation." Absurd as

this hubbub of words is, part of it is intelligible enough. What can the monopoly of land mean, except

property in land? The only monopoly of land which exists in England is this, that nobody can sell an acre of

land which does not belong to him. And what can the monopoly of machinery mean but property in

machinery? Another monopoly which is to cease is the monopoly of the means of travelling. In other words

all the canal property and railway property in the kingdom is to be confiscated. What other sense do the

words bear? And these are only specimens of the reforms which, in the language of the petition, are to

unshackle labour from its misery. There remains, it seems, a host of similar monopolies too numerous to

mention; the monopoly I presume, which a draper has of his own stock of cloth; the monopoly which a hatter

has of his own stock of hats; the monopoly which we all have of our furniture, bedding, and clothes. In short,

the petitioners ask you to give them power in order that they may not leave a man of a hundred a year in the

I am far from wishing to throw any blame on the ignorant crowds which have flocked to the tables where this

petition was exhibited. Nothing is more natural than that the labouring people should be deceived by the arts

of such men as the author of this absurd and wicked composition. We ourselves, with all our advantages of

education, are often very credulous, very impatient, very shortsighted, when we are tried by pecuniary

distress or bodily pain. We often resort to means of immediate relief which, as Reason tells us, if we would

listen to her, are certain to aggravate our sufferings. Men of great abilities and knowledge have ruined their

estates and their constitutions in this way. How then can we wonder that men less instructed than ourselves,

and tried by privations such as we have never known, should be easily misled by mountebanks who promise

impossibilities? Imagine a wellmeaning laborious mechanic, fondly attached to his wife and children. Bad

times come. He sees the wife whom he loves grow thinner and paler every day. His little ones cry for bread,

and he has none to give them. Then come the professional agitators, the tempters, and tell him that there is

enough and more than enough for everybody, and that he has too little only because landed gentlemen,

fundholders, bankers, manufacturers, railway proprietors, shopkeepers have too much. Is it strange that the

poor man should be deluded, and should eagerly sign such a petition as this? The inequality with which

wealth is distributed forces itself on everybody's notice. It is at once perceived by the eye. The reasons which

irrefragably prove this inequality to be necessary to the well being of all classes are not equally obvious.

Our honest working man has not received such an education as enables him to understand that the utmost

distress that he has ever known is prosperity when compared with the distress which he would have to endure

if there were a single month of general anarchy and plunder. But you say, it is not the fault of the labourer

that he is not well educated. Most true. It is not his fault. But, though he has no share in the fault, he will, if

you are foolish enough to give him supreme power in the state, have a very large share of the punishment.

You say that, if the Government had not culpably omitted to establish a good system of public instruction, the

petitioners would have been fit for the elective franchise. But is that a reason for giving them the franchise

when their own petition proves that they are not fit for it; when they give us fair notice that, if we let them

have it, they will use it to our ruin and their own? It is not necessary now to inquire whether, with universal

education, we could safely have universal suffrage. What we are asked to do is to give universal suffrage

before there is universal education. Have I any unkind feeling towards these poor people? No more than I

have to a sick friend who implores me to give him a glass of iced water which the physician has forbidden.

No more than a humane collector in India has to those poor peasants who in a season of scarcity crowd round

the granaries and beg with tears and piteous gestures that the doors may be opened and the rice distributed. I

would not give the draught of water, because I know that it would be poison. I would not give up the keys of

the granary, because I know that, by doing so, I should turn a scarcity into a famine. And in the same way I

would not yield to the importunity of multitudes who, exasperated by suffering and blinded by ignorance,

But it is said, You must not attach so much importance to this petition. It is very foolish, no doubt, and

disgraceful to the author, be he who he may. But you must not suppose that those who signed it approve of it.

They have merely put their names or their marks without weighing the sense of the document which they

subscribed. Surely, Sir, of all reasons that ever were given for receiving a petition with peculiar honours, the

strangest is that it expresses sentiments diametrically opposed to the real sentiments of those who have signed

it. And it is a not less strange reason for giving men supreme power in a state that they sign political

manifestoes of the highest importance without taking the trouble to know what the contents are. But how is it

possible for us to believe that, if the petitioners had the power which they demand, they would not use it as

they threaten? During a long course of years, numerous speakers and writers, some of them ignorant, others

dishonest, have been constantly representing the Government as able to do, and bound to do, things which no

Government can, without great injury to the country, attempt to do. Every man of sense knows that the people

support the Government. But the doctrine of the Chartist philosophers is that it is the business of the

Government to support the people. It is supposed by many that our rulers possess, somewhere or other, an

inexhaustible storehouse of all the necessaries and conveniences of life, and, from mere hardheartedness,

refuse to distribute the contents of this magazine among the poor. We have all of us read speeches and tracts

in which it seemed to be taken for granted that we who sit here have the power of working miracles, of

sending a shower of manna on the West Riding, of striking the earth and furnishing all the towns of

Lancashire with abundance of pure water, of feeding all the cottonspinners and weavers who are out of

work with five loaves and two fishes. There is not a working man who has not heard harangues and read

newspapers in which these follies are taught. And do you believe that as soon as you give the working men

absolute and irresistible power they will forget all this? Yes, Sir, absolute and irresistible power. The Charter

would give them no less. In every constituent body throughout the empire the working men will, if we grant

the prayer of this petition, be an irresistible majority. In every constituent body capital will be placed at the

feet of labour; knowledge will be borne down by ignorance; and is it possible to doubt what the result must

be? The honourable Member for Bath and the honourable Member for Rochdale are now considered as very

democratic members of Parliament. They would occupy a very different position in a House of Commons

elected by universal suffrage, if they succeeded in obtaining seats. They would, I believe, honestly oppose

every attempt to rob the public creditor. They would manfully say, "Justice and the public good require that

this sum of thirty millions a year should be paid;" and they would immediately be reviled as aristocrats,

monopolists, oppressors of the poor, defenders of old abuses. And as to land, is it possible to believe that the

millions who have been so long and loudly told that the land is their estate, and is wrongfully kept from them,

should not, when they have supreme power, use that power to enforce what they think their rights? What

could follow but one vast spoliation? One vast spoliation! That would be bad enough. That would be the

greatest calamity that ever fell on our country. Yet would that a single vast spoliation were the worst! No, Sir;

in the lowest deep there would be a lower deep. The first spoliation would not be the last. How could it? All

the causes which had produced the first spoliation would still operate. They would operate more powerfully

than before. The distress would be far greater than before. The fences which now protect property would all

have been broken through, levelled, swept away. The new proprietors would have no title to show to anything

that they held except recent robbery. With what face then could they complain of being robbed? What would

be the end of these things? Our experience, God be praised, does not enable us to predict it with certainty. We

can only guess. My guess is that we should see something more horrible than can be imaginedsomething

like the siege of Jerusalem on a far larger scale. There would be many millions of human beings, crowded in

a narrow space, deprived of all those resources which alone had made it possible for them to exist in so

narrow a space; trade gone; manufactures gone; credit gone. What could they do but fight for the mere

sustenance of nature, and tear each other to pieces till famine, and pestilence following in the train of famine,

came to turn the terrible commotion into a more terrible repose? The best event, the very best event, that I can

anticipate,and what must the state of things be, if an Englishman and a Whig calls such an event the very

best?the very best event, I say, that I can anticipate is that out of the confusion a strong military despotism

may arise, and that the sword, firmly grasped by some rough hand, may give a sort of protection to the

miserable wreck of all that immense prosperity and glory. But, as to the noble institutions under which our

country has made such progress in liberty, in wealth, in knowledge, in arts, do not deceive yourselves into the

belief that we should ever see them again. We should never see them again. We should not deserve to see

them. All those nations which envy our greatness would insult our downfall, a downfall which would be all

our own work; and the history of our calamities would be told thus: England had institutions which, though

imperfect, yet contained within themselves the means of remedying every imperfection; those institutions her

legislators wantonly and madly threw away; nor could they urge in their excuse even the wretched plea that

they were deceived by false promises; for, in the very petition with the prayer of which they were weak

enough to comply, they were told, in the plainest terms, that public ruin would be the effect of their

Thinking thus, Sir, I will oppose, with every faculty which God has given me, every motion which directly or

indirectly tends to the granting of universal suffrage. This motion I think, tends that way. If any gentleman

here is prepared to vote for universal suffrage with a full view of all the consequences of universal suffrage as

they are set forth in this petition, he acts with perfect consistency in voting for this motion. But, I must say, I

heard with some surprise the honourable baronet the Member for Leicester (Sir John Easthope.) say that,

though he utterly disapproves of the petition, though he thinks of it just as I do, he wishes the petitioners to be

heard at the bar in explanation of their opinions. I conceive that their opinions are quite sufficiently explained

already; and to such opinions I am not disposed to pay any extraordinary mark of respect. I shall give a clear

and conscientious vote against the motion of the honourable Member for Finsbury; and I conceive that the

petitioners will have much less reason to complain of my open hostility than of the conduct of the honourable

Member, who tries to propitiate them by consenting to hear their oratory, but has fully made up his mind not

On the ninth of March 1843, Mr Vernon Smith, Member for Northampton, made the following motion:

"That this House, having regard to the high and important functions of the Governor General of India, the

mixed character of the native population, and the recent measures of the Court of Directors for discontinuing

any seeming sanction to idolatry in India, is of opinion that the conduct of Lord Ellenborough in issuing the

General Orders of the sixteenth of November 1842, and in addressing the letter of the same date to all the

chiefs, princes, and people of India, respecting the restoration of the gates of a temple to Somnauth, is

Mr Emerson Tennent, Secretary of the Board of Control, opposed the motion. In reply to him the following

Mr Speaker,If the practice of the honourable gentleman, the Secretary of the Board of Control, had been in

accordance with his precepts, if he had not, after exhorting us to confine ourselves strictly to the subject

before us, rambled far from that subject, I should have refrained from all digression. For and truth there is

abundance to be said touching both the substance and the style of this Proclamation. I cannot, however, leave

the honourable gentleman's peroration entirely unnoticed. But I assure him that I do not mean to wander from

I cannot but wonder, Sir, that he who has, on this, as on former occasions, exhibited so much ability and

acuteness, should have gravely represented it as a ground of complaint, that my right honourable friend the

Member for Northampton has made this motion in the Governor General's absence. Does the honourable

gentleman mean that this House is to be interdicted from ever considering in what manner Her Majesty's

Asiatic subjects, a hundred millions in number, are governed? And how can we consider how they are

governed without considering the conduct of him who is governing them? And how can we consider the

conduct of him who is governing them, except in his absence? For my own part, I can say for myself, and I

may, I doubt not, say for my right honourable friend the Member for Northampton, that we both of us wish,

with all our hearts and souls, that we were discussing this question in the presence of Lord Ellenborough.

Would to heaven, Sir, for the sake of the credit of England, and of the interests of India, that the noble lord

were at this moment under our gallery! But, Sir, if there be any Governor who has no right to complain of

remarks made on him in his absence, it is that Governor who, forgetting all official decorum, forgetting how

important it is that, while the individuals who serve the State are changed, the State should preserve its

identity, inserted in a public proclamation reflections on his predecessor, a predecessor of whom, on the

present occasion, I will only say that his conduct had deserved a very different return. I am confident that no

enemy of Lord Auckland, if Lord Auckland has an enemy in the House, will deny that, whatever faults he

may have committed, he was faultless with respect to Lord Ellenborough. No brother could have laboured

more assiduously for the interests and the honour of a brother than Lord Auckland laboured to facilitate Lord

Ellenborough's arduous task, to prepare for Lord Ellenborough the means of obtaining success and glory.

And what was the requital? A proclamation by Lord Ellenborough, stigmatising the conduct of Lord

Auckland. And, Sir, since the honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of Control has thought fit to

divert the debate from its proper course, I will venture to request that he, or the honourable director who sits

behind him (Sir James Hogg.), will vouchsafe to give us some explanations on an important point to which

allusion has been made. Lord Ellenborough has been accused of having publicly announced that our troops

were about to evacuate Afghanistan before he had ascertained that our captive countrymen and

countrywomen had been restored to liberty. This accusation, which is certainly a serious one, the honourable

gentleman, the Secretary of the Board of Control, pronounces to be a mere calumny. Now, Sir, the

proclamation which announces the withdrawing of the troops bears date the first of October 1842. What I

wish to know is, whether any member of the Government, or of the Court of Directors, will venture to affirm

that on the first of October 1842, the Governor General knew that the prisoners had been set at liberty? I

believe that no member either of the Government or of the Court of Directors will venture to affirm any such

thing. It seems certain that on the first of October the Governor General could not know that the prisoners

were safe. Nevertheless, the honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of Control assures us that,

when the proclamation was drawn up, the Governor General did know that the prisoners were safe. What is

the inevitable consequence? It is this, that the date is a false date, that the proclamation was written after the

first of October, and antedated? And for what reason was it antedated? I am almost ashamed to tell the House

what I believe to have been the reason. I believe that Lord Ellenborough affixed the false date of the first of

October to his proclamation because Lord Auckland's manifesto against Afghanistan was dated on the first of

October. I believe that Lord Ellenborough wished to make the contrast between his own success and his

predecessor's failure more striking, and that for the sake of this paltry, this childish, triumph, he antedated his

proclamation, and made it appear to all Europe and all Asia that the English Government was indifferent to

the fate of Englishmen and Englishwomen who were in a miserable captivity. If this be so, and I shall be

surprised to hear any person deny that it is so, I must say that by this single act, by writing those words, the

first of October, the Governor General proved himself to be a man of an illregulated mind, a man unfit for

I might, Sir, if I chose to follow the example of the honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of

Control, advert to many other matters. I might call the attention of the House to the systematic manner in

which the Governor General has exerted himself to lower the character and to break the spirit of that civil

service on the respectability and efficiency of which chiefly depends the happiness of a hundred millions of

human beings. I might say much about the financial committee which he appointed in the hope of finding out

blunders of his predecessor, but which at last found out no blunders except his own. But the question before

us demands our attention. That question has two sides, a serious and a ludicrous side. Let us look first at the

serious side. Sir, I disclaim in the strongest manner all intention of raising any fanatical outcry or of lending

aid to any fanatical project. I would very much rather be the victim of fanaticism than its tool. If Lord

Ellenborough were called in question for having given an impartial protection to the professors of different

religions, or for restraining unjustifiable excesses into which Christian missionaries might have been hurried

by their zeal, I would, widely as I have always differed from him in politics, have stood up in his defence,

though I had stood up alone. But the charge against Lord Ellenborough is that he has insulted the religion of

his own country and the religion of millions of the Queen's Asiatic subjects in order to pay honour to an idol.

And this the right honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of Control calls a trivial charge. Sir, I

think it a very grave charge. Her Majesty is the ruler of a larger heathen population than the world ever saw

collected under the sceptre of a Christian sovereign since the days of the Emperor Theodosius. What the

conduct of rulers in such circumstances ought to be is one of the most important moral questions, one of the

most important political questions, that it is possible to conceive. There are subject to the British rule in Asia

a hundred millions of people who do not profess the Christian faith. The Mahometans are a minority: but

their importance is much more than proportioned to their number: for they are an united, a zealous, an

ambitious, a warlike class. The great majority of the population of India consists of idolaters, blindly attached

to doctrines and rites which, considered merely with reference to the temporal interests of mankind, are in the

highest degree pernicious. In no part of the world has a religion ever existed more unfavourable to the moral

and intellectual health of our race. The Brahminical mythology is so absurd that it necessarily debases every

mind which receives it as truth; and with this absurd mythology is bound up an absurd system of physics, an

absurd geography, an absurd astronomy. Nor is this form of Paganism more favourable to art than to science.

Through the whole Hindoo Pantheon you will look in vain for anything resembling those beautiful and

majestic forms which stood in the shrines of ancient Greece. All is hideous, and grotesque, and ignoble. As

this superstition is of all superstitions the most irrational, and of all superstitions the most inelegant, so is it of

all superstitions the most immoral. Emblems of vice are objects of public worship. Acts of vice are acts of

public worship. The courtesans are as much a part of the establishment of the temple, as much ministers of

the god, as the priests. Crimes against life, crimes against property, are not only permitted but enjoined by

this odious theology. But for our interference human victims would still be offered to the Ganges, and the

widow would still be laid on the pile with the corpse of her husband, and burned alive by her own children. It

is by the command and under the especial protection of one of the most powerful goddesses that the Thugs

join themselves to the unsuspecting traveller, make friends with him, slip the noose round his neck, plunge

their knives in his eyes, hide him in the earth, and divide his money and baggage. I have read many

examinations of Thugs; and I particularly remember an altercation which took place between two of those

wretches in the presence of an English officer. One Thug reproached the other for having been so irreligious

as to spare the life of a traveller when the omens indicated that their patroness required a victim. "How could

you let him go? How can you expect the goddess to protect us if you disobey her commands? That is one of

your North country heresies." Now, Sir, it is a difficult matter to determine in what way Christian rulers

ought to deal with such superstitions as these. We might have acted as the Spaniards acted in the New World.

We might have attempted to introduce our own religion by force. We might have sent missionaries among the

natives at the public charge. We might have held out hopes of public employment to converts, and have

imposed civil disabilities on Mahometans and Pagans. But we did none of these things; and herein we judged

wisely. Our duty, as rulers, was to preserve strict neutrality on all questions merely religious: and I am not

aware that we have ever swerved from strict neutrality for the purpose of making proselytes to our own faith.

But we have, I am sorry to say, sometimes deviated from the right path in the opposite direction. Some

Englishmen, who have held high office in India, seem to have thought that the only religion which was not

entitled to toleration and to respect was Christianity. They regarded every Christian missionary with extreme

jealousy and disdain; and they suffered the most atrocious crimes, if enjoined by the Hindoo superstition, to

be perpetrated in open day. It is lamentable to think how long after our power was firmly established in

Bengal, we, grossly neglecting the first and plainest duty of the civil magistrate, suffered the practices of

infanticide and Suttee to continue unchecked. We decorated the temples of the false gods. We provided the

dancing girls. We gilded and painted the images to which our ignorant subjects bowed down. We repaired

and embellished the car under the wheels of which crazy devotees flung themselves at every festival to be

crushed to death. We sent guards of honour to escort pilgrims to the places of worship. We actually made

oblations at the shrines of idols. All this was considered, and is still considered, by some prejudiced

AngloIndians of the old school, as profound policy. I believe that there never was so shallow, so senseless a

policy. We gained nothing by it. We lowered ourselves in the eyes of those whom we meant to flatter. We led

them to believe that we attached no importance to the difference between Christianity and heathenism. Yet

how vast that difference is! I altogether abstain from alluding to topics which belong to divines. I speak

merely as a politician anxious for the morality and the temporal wellbeing of society. And, so speaking, I

say that to countenance the Brahminical idolatry, and to discountenance that religion which has done so much

to promote justice, and mercy, and freedom, and arts, and sciences, and good government, and domestic

happiness, which has struck off the chains of the slave, which has mitigated the horrors of war, which has

raised women from servants and playthings into companions and friends, is to commit high treason against

Gradually a better system was introduced. A great man whom we have lately lost, Lord Wellesley, led the

way. He prohibited the immolation of female children; and this was the most unquestionable of all his titles

to the gratitude of his country. In the year 1813 Parliament gave new facilities to persons who were desirous

to proceed to India as missionaries. Lord William Bentinck abolished the Suttee. Shortly afterwards the

Home Government sent out to Calcutta the important and valuable despatch to which reference has been

repeatedly made in the course of this discussion. That despatch Lord Glenelg wrote,I was then at the Board

of Control, and can attest the fact,with his own hand. One paragraph, the sixtysecond, is of the highest

moment. I know that paragraph so well that I could repeat it word for word. It contains in short compass an

entire code of regulations for the guidance of British functionaries in matters relating to the idolatry of India.

The orders of the Home Government were express, that the arrangements of the temples should be left

entirely to the natives. A certain discretion was of course left to the local authorities as to the time and

manner of dissolving that connection which had long existed between the English Government and the

Brahminical superstition. But the principle was laid down in the clearest manner. This was in February 1833.

In the year 1838 another despatch was sent, which referred to the sixtysecond paragraph in Lord Glenelg's

despatch, and enjoined the Indian Government to observe the rules contained in that paragraph. Again, in the

year 1841, precise orders were sent out on the same subject, orders which Lord Ellenborough seems to me to

have studied carefully for the express purpose of disobeying them point by point, and in the most direct

manner. You murmur: but only look at the orders of the Directors and at the proclamation of the Governor

General. The orders are, distinctly and positively, that the British authorities in India shall have nothing to do

with the temples of the natives, shall make no presents to those temples, shall not decorate those temples,

shall not pay any military honour to those temples. Now, Sir, the first charge which I bring against Lord

Ellenborough is, that he has been guilty of an act of gross disobedience, that he has done that which was

forbidden in the strongest terms by those from whom his power is derived. The Home Government says, Do

not interfere in the concerns of heathen temples. Is it denied that Lord Ellenborough has interfered in the

concerns of a heathen temple? The Home Government says, Make no presents to heathen temples. Is it

denied that Lord Ellenborough has proclaimed to all the world his intention to make a present to a heathen

temple? The Home Government says, Do not decorate heathen temples. Is it denied that Lord Ellenborough

has proclaimed to all the world his intention to decorate a heathen temple? The Home Government says, Do

not send troops to do honour to heathen temples. Is it denied that Lord Ellenborough sent a body of troops to

escort these gates to a heathen temple? To be sure, the honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of

Control tries to get rid of this part of the case in rather a whimsical manner. He says that it is impossible to

believe that, by sending troops to escort the gates, Lord Ellenborough can have meant to pay any mark of

respect to an idol. And why? Because, says the honourable gentleman, the Court of Directors had given

positive orders that troops should not be employed to pay marks of respect to idols. Why, Sir, undoubtedly, if

it is to be taken for granted that Lord Ellenborough is a perfect man, if all our reasonings are to proceed on

the supposition that he cannot do wrong, then I admit the force of the honourable gentleman's argument. But

it seems to me a strange and dangerous thing to infer a man's innocence merely from the flagrancy of his

guilt. It is certain that the Home authorities ordered the Governor General not to employ the troops in the

service of a temple. It is certain that Lord Ellenborough employed the troops to escort a trophy, an oblation,

which he sent to the restored temple of Somnauth. Yes, the restored temple of Somnauth. Those are his

lordship's words. They have given rise to some discussion, and seem not to be understood by everybody in

the same sense. We all know that this temple is an ruins. I am confident that Lord Ellenborough knew it to be

in ruins, and that his intention was to rebuild it at the public charge. That is the obvious meaning of his

words. But, as this meaning is so monstrous that nobody here can venture to defend it, his friends pretend that

he believed the temple to have been already restored, and that he had no thought of being himself the restorer.

How can I believe this? How can I believe that, when he issued this proclamation, he knew nothing about the

state of the temple to which he proposed to make an offering of such importance? He evidently knew that it

had once been in ruins; or he would not have called it the restored temple. Why am I to suppose that he

imagined it to have been rebuilt? He had people about him who knew it well, and who could have told him

that it was in ruins still. To say that he was not aware that it was in ruins is to say that he put forth his

proclamation without taking the trouble to ask a single question of those who were close at hand and were

perfectly competent to give him information. Why, Sir, this defence is itself an accusation. I defy the

honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of Control, I defy all human ingenuity, to get his lordship

clear off from both the horns of this dilemma. Either way, he richly deserves a parliamentary censure. Either

he published this proclamation in the recklessness of utter ignorance without making the smallest inquiry; or

else he, an English and a Christian Governor, meant to build a temple to a heathen god at the public charge,

in direct defiance of the commands of his official superiors. Turn and twist the matter which way you will,

you can make nothing else of it. The stain is like the stain of Blue Beard's key, in the nursery tale. As soon as

So much for the first charge, the charge of disobedience. It is fully made out: but it is not the heaviest charge

which I bring against Lord Ellenborough. I charge him with having done that which, even if it had not been,

as it was, strictly forbidden by the Home authorities, it would still have been a high crime to do. He ought to

have known, without any instructions from home, that it was his duty not to take part in disputes among the

false religions of the East; that it was his duty, in his official character, to show no marked preference for any

of those religions, and to offer no marked insult to any. But, Sir, he has paid unseemly homage to one of

those religions; he has grossly insulted another; and he has selected as the object of his homage the very

worst and most degrading of those religions, and as the object of his insults the best and purest of them. The

homage was paid to Lingamism. The insult was offered to Mahometanism. Lingamism is not merely idolatry,

but idolatry in its most pernicious form. The honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of Control

seemed to think that he had achieved a great victory when he had made out that his lordship's devotions had

been paid, not to Vishnu, but to Siva. Sir, Vishnu is the preserving Deity of the Hindoo Mythology; Siva is

the destroying Deity; and, as far as I have any preference for one of your Governor General's gods over

another, I confess that my own tastes would lead me to prefer the preserving to the destroying power. Yes,

Sir; the temple of Somnauth was sacred to Siva; and the honourable gentleman cannot but know by what

emblem Siva is represented, and with what rites he is adored. I will say no more. The Governor General, Sir,

is in some degree protected by the very magnitude of his offence. I am ashamed to name those things to

which he is not ashamed to pay public reverence. This god of destruction, whose images and whose worship

it would be a violation of decency to describe, is selected as the object of homage. As the object of insult is

selected a religion which has borrowed much of its theology and much of its morality from Christianity, a

religion which in the midst of Polytheism teaches the unity of God, and, in the midst of idolatry, strictly

proscribes the worship of images. The duty of our Government is, as I said, to take no part in the disputes

between Mahometans and idolaters. But, if our Government does take a part, there cannot be a doubt that

Mahometanism is entitled to the preference. Lord Ellenborough is of a different opinion. He takes away the

gates from a Mahometan mosque, and solemnly offers them as a gift to a Pagan temple. Morally, this is a

crime. Politically, it is a blunder. Nobody who knows anything of the Mahometans of India can doubt that

this affront to their faith will excite their fiercest indignation. Their susceptibility on such points is extreme.

Some of the most serious disasters that have ever befallen us in India have been caused by that susceptibility.

Remember what happened at Vellore in 1806, and more recently at Bangalore. The mutiny of Vellore was

caused by a slight shown to the Mahometan turban; the mutiny of Bangalore, by disrespect said to have been

shown to a Mahometan place of worship. If a Governor General had been induced by his zeal for Christianity

to offer any affront to a mosque held in high veneration by Mussulmans, I should think that he had been

guilty of indiscretion such as proved him to be unfit for his post. But to affront a mosque of peculiar dignity,

not from zeal for Christianity, but for the sake of this loathsome god of destruction, is nothing short of

madness. Some temporary popularity Lord Ellenborough may no doubt gain in some quarters. I hear, and I

can well believe, that some bigoted Hindoos have hailed this proclamation with delight, and have begun to

entertain a hope that the British Government is about to take their worship under its peculiar protection. But

how long will that hope last? I presume that the right honourable Baronet the First Lord of the Treasury does

not mean to suffer India to be governed on Brahminical principles. I presume that he will not allow the public

revenue to be expended in rebuilding temples, adorning idols, and hiring courtesans. I have no doubt that

there is already on the way to India such an admonition as will prevent Lord Ellenborough from persisting in

the course on which he has entered. The consequence will be that the exultation of the Brahmins will end in

mortification and anger. See then of what a complication of faults the Governor General is guilty. In order to

curry favour with the Hindoos he has offered an inexpiable insult to the Mahometans; and now, in order to

quiet the English, he is forced to disappoint and disgust the Hindoos. But, apart from the irritating effect

which these transactions must produce on every part of the native population, is it no evil to have this

continual wavering and changing? This is not the only case in which Lord Ellenborough has, with great

pomp, announced intentions which he has not been able to carry into effect. It is his Lordship's habit. He put

forth a notification that his Durbar was to be honoured by the presence of Dost Mahomed. Then came a

notification that Dost Mahomed would not make his appearance there. In the proclamation which we are now

considering his lordship announced to all the princes of India his resolution to set up these gates at Somnauth.

The gates, it is now universally admitted, will not be set up there. All India will see that the Governor General

has changed his mind. The change may be imputed to mere fickleness and levity. It may be imputed to the

disapprobation with which his conduct has been regarded here. In either case he appears in a light in which it

So much for the serious side of this business; and now for the ludicrous side. Even in our mirth, however,

there is sadness; for it is no light thing that he who represents the British nation in India should be a jest to the

people of India. We have sometimes sent them governors whom they loved, and sometimes governors whom

they feared; but they never before had a governor at whom they laughed. Now, however, they laugh; and how

can we blame them for laughing, when all Europe and all America are laughing too? You see, Sir, that the

gentlemen opposite cannot keep their countenances. And no wonder. Was such a State paper ever seen in our

language before? And what is the plea set up for all this bombast? Why, the honourable gentleman the

Secretary of the Board of Control brings down to the House some translations of Persian letters from native

princes. Such letters, as everybody knows, are written in a most absurd and turgid style. The honourable

gentleman forces us to hear a good deal of this detestable rhetoric; and then he asks why, if the secretaries of

the Nizam and the King of Oude use all these tropes and hyperboles, Lord Ellenborough should not indulge

in the same sort of eloquence? The honourable gentleman might as well ask why Lord Ellenborough should

not sit crosslegged, why he should not let his beard grow to his waist, why he should not wear a turban, why

he should not hang trinkets all about his person, why he should not ride about Calcutta on a horse jingling

with bells and glittering with false pearls. The native princes do these things; and why should not he? Why,

Sir, simply because he is not a native prince, but an English Governor General. When the people of India see

a Nabob or a Rajah in all his gaudy finery, they bow to him with a certain respect. They know that the

splendour of his garb indicates superior rank and wealth. But if Sir Charles Metcalfe had so bedizened

himself, they would have thought that he was out of his wits. They are not such fools as the honourable

gentleman takes them for. Simplicity is not their fashion. But they understand and respect the simplicity of

our fashions. Our plain clothing commands far more reverence than all the jewels which the most tawdry

Zemindar wears; and our plain language carries with it far more weight than the florid diction of the most

ingenious Persian scribe. The plain language and the plain clothing are inseparably associated in the minds of

our subjects with superior knowledge, with superior energy, with superior veracity, with all the high and

commanding qualities which erected, and which still uphold, our empire. Sir, if, as the speech of the

honourable gentleman the Secretary of the Board of Control seems to indicate, Lord Ellenborough has

adopted this style on principle, if it be his lordship's deliberate intention to mimic, in his State papers, the

Asiatic modes of thought and expression, that alone would be a reason for recalling him. But the honourable

gentlemen is mistaken in thinking that this proclamation is in the Oriental taste. It bears no resemblance to

the very bad Oriental compositions which he has read to us, nor to any other Oriental compositions that I ever

saw. It is neither English nor Indian. It is not original, however; and I will tell the House where the Governor

General found his models. He has apparently been studying the rants of the French Jacobins during the period

of their ascendency, the Carmagnoles of the Convention, the proclamations issued by the Directory and its

Proconsuls: and he has been seized with a desire to imitate those compositions. The pattern which he seems

to have especially proposed to himself is the rhodomontade in which it was announced that the modern Gauls

were marching to Rome in order to avenge the fate of Dumnorix and Vercingetorex. Everybody remembers

"Not she in British courts who takes her stand, The dawdling balance dangling in her hand; But firm, erect,

with keen reverted glance, The avenging angel of regenerate France, Who visits ancient sins on modern

In the same spirit and in the same style our Governor General has proclaimed his intention to retaliate on the

Mussulmans beyond the mountains the insults which their ancestors, eight hundred years ago, offered to the

idolatry of the Hindoos. To do justice to the Jacobins, however, I must say that they had an excuse which was

wanting to the noble lord. The revolution had made almost as great a change in literary tastes as in political

institutions. The old masters of French eloquence had shared the fate of the old states and of the old

parliaments. The highest posts in the administration were filled by persons who had no experience of affairs,

who in the general confusion had raised themselves by audacity and quickness of natural parts, uneducated

men, or half educated men, who had no notion that the style in which they had heard the heroes and villains

of tragedies declaim on the stage was not the style of real warriors and statesmen. But was it for an English

gentleman, a man of distinguished abilities and cultivated mind, a man who had sate many years in

parliament, and filled some of the highest posts in the State, to copy the productions of such a school?

But, it is said, what does it matter if the noble lord has written a foolish rhapsody which is neither prose nor

verse? Is affected phraseology a subject for parliamentary censure? What great ruler can be named who has

not committed errors much more serious than the penning of a few sentences of turgid nonsense? This, I

admit, sounds plausible. It is quite true that very eminent men, Lord Somers, for example, Sir Robert

Walpole, Lord Chatham and his son, all committed faults which did much more harm than any fault of style

can do. But I beg the House to observe this, that an error which produces the most serious consequences may

not necessarily prove that the man who has committed it is not a very wise man; and that, on the other hand,

an error which directly produces no important consequences may prove the man who has committed it to be

quite unfit for public trust. Walpole committed a ruinous error when he yielded to the public cry for war with

Spain. But, notwithstanding that error, he was an eminently wise man. Caligula, on the other hand, when he

marched his soldiers to the beach, made them fill their helmets with cockleshells, and sent the shells to be

placed in the Capitol as trophies of his conquests, did no great harm to anybody; but he surely proved that he

was quite incapable of governing an empire. Mr Pitt's expedition to Quiberon was most ill judged, and ended

in defeat and disgrace. Yet Mr Pitt was a statesman of a very high order. On the other hand, such ukases as

those by which the Emperor Paul used to regulate the dress of the people of Petersburg, though they caused

much less misery than the slaughter at Quiberon, proved that the Emperor Paul could not safely be trusted

with power over his fellowcreatures. One day he forbade the wearing of pantaloons. Another day he forbade

his subjects to comb their hair over their foreheads. Then he proscribed round hats. A young Englishman, the

son of a merchant, thought to evade this decree by going about the city in a hunting cap. Then came out an

edict which made it penal to wear on the head a round thing such as the English merchant's son wore. Now,

Sir, I say that, when I examine the substance of Lord Ellenborough's proclamation, and consider all the

consequences which that paper is likely to produce, I am forced to say that he has committed a grave moral

and political offence. When I examine the style, I see that he has committed an act of eccentric folly, much of

the same kind with Caligula's campaign against the cockles, and with the Emperor Paul's ukase against round

hats. Consider what an extravagant selfconfidence, what a disdain for the examples of his great predecessors

and for the opinions of the ablest and most experienced men who are now to be found in the Indian services,

this strange document indicates. Surely it might have occurred to Lord Ellenborough that, if this kind of

eloquence had been likely to produce a favourable impression on the minds of Asiatics, such Governors as

Warren Hastings, Mr Elphinstone, Sir Thomas Munro, and Sir Charles Metcalfe, men who were as familiar

with the language and manners of the native population of India as any man here can be with the language

and manners of the French, would not have left the discovery to be made by a new comer who did not know

any Eastern tongue. Surely, too, it might have occurred to the noble lord that, before he put forth such a

proclamation, he would do well to ask some person who knew India intimately what the effect both on the

Mahometans and Hindoos was likely to be. I firmly believe that the Governor General either did not ask

advice or acted in direct opposition to advice. Mr Maddock was with his lordship as acting Secretary. Now I

know enough of Mr Maddock to be quite certain that he never counselled the Governor General to publish

such a paper. I will pawn my life that he either was never called upon to give an opinion, or that he gave an

opinion adverse to the course which has been taken. No Governor General who was on good terms with the

civil service would have been, I may say, permitted to expose himself thus. Lord William Bentinck and Lord

Auckland were, to be sure, the last men in the world to think of doing such a thing as this. But if either of

those noble lords, at some unlucky moment when he was not quite himself, when his mind was thrown off

the balance by the pride and delight of an extraordinary success, had proposed to put forth such a

proclamation, he would have been saved from committing so great a mistake by the respectful but earnest

remonstrances of those in whom he placed confidence, and who were solicitous for his honour. From the

appearance of this proclamation, therefore, I infer that the terms on which Lord Ellenborough is with the civil

servants of the Company are such that those servants could not venture to offer him counsel when he most

For these reasons, Sir, I think the noble lord unfit for high public trust. Let us, then, consider the nature of the

public trust which is now reposed in him. Are gentlemen aware that, even when he is at Calcutta, surrounded

by his councillors, his single voice can carry any resolution concerning the executive administration against

them all? They can object: they can protest: they can record their opinions in writing, and can require him to

give in writing his reasons for persisting in his own course: but they must then submit. On the most important

questions, on the question whether a war shall be declared, on the question whether a treaty shall be

concluded, on the question whether the whole system of land revenue established in a great province shall be

changed, his single vote weighs down the votes of all who sit at the Board with him. The right honourable

Baronet opposite is a powerful minister, a more powerful minister than any that we have seen during many

years. But I will venture to say that his power over the people of England is nothing when compared with the

power which the Governor General possesses over the people of India. Such is Lord Ellenborough's power

when he is with his council, and is to some extent held in check. But where is he now? He has given his

council the slip. He is alone. He has near him no person who is entitled and bound to offer advice, asked or

unasked: he asks no advice: and you cannot expect men to outstep the strict line of their official duty by

obtruding advice on a superior by whom it would be ungraciously received. The danger of having a rash and

flighty Governor General is sufficiently serious at the very best. But the danger of having such a Governor

General up the country, eight or nine hundred miles from any person who has a right to remonstrate with him,

is fearful indeed. Interests so vast, that the most sober language in which they can be described sounds

hyperbolical, are entrusted to a single man; to a man who, whatever his parts may be, and they are doubtless

considerable, has shown an indiscretion and temerity almost beyond belief; to a man who has been only a few

months in India; to a man who takes no counsel with those who are well acquainted with India.

I cannot sit down without addressing myself to those Directors of the East India Company who are present. I

exhort them to consider the heavy responsibility which rests on them. They have the power to recall Lord

Ellenborough; and I trust that they will not hesitate to exercise that power. This is the advice of one who has

been their servant, who has served them loyally, and who is still sincerely anxious for their credit and for the

welfare of the empire of which they are the guardians. But if, from whatever cause, they are unwilling to

recall the noble lord, then I implore them to take care that he be immediately ordered to return to Calcutta.

Who can say what new freak we may hear of by the next mail? I am quite confident that neither the Court of

Directors nor Her Majesty's Ministers can look forward to the arrival of that mail without great uneasiness.

Therefore I say, send Lord Ellenborough back to Calcutta. There at least he will find persons who have a

right to advise him and to expostulate with him, and who will, I doubt not, have also the spirit to do so. It is

something that he will be forced to record his reasons for what he does. It is something that he will be forced

to hear reasons against his propositions. It is something that a delay, though only of twentyfour hours, will

be interposed between the first conception of a wild scheme and the execution. I am afraid that these checks

will not be sufficient to prevent much evil: but they are not absolutely nugatory. I entreat the Directors to

consider in what a position they will stand if, in consequence of their neglect, some serious calamity should

befall the country which is confided to their care. I will only say, in conclusion, that, if there be any use in

having a Council of India, if it be not meant that the members of Council should draw large salaries for doing

nothing, if they are really appointed for the purpose of assisting and restraining the Governor, it is to the last

degree absurd that their powers should be in abeyance when there is a Governor who, of all the Governors

that ever England sent to the East, stands most in need both of assistance and of restraint.

On the thirteenth of February 1844, Lord John Russell moved for a Committee of the whole House to take

into consideration the state of Ireland. After a discussion of nine nights the motion was rejected by 324 votes

I cannot refrain, Sir, from congratulating you and the House that I did not catch your eye when I rose before.

I should have been extremely sorry to have prevented any Irish member from addressing the House on a

question so interesting to Ireland, but peculiarly sorry to have stood in the way of the honourable gentleman

who tonight pleaded the cause of his country with so much force and eloquence. (Mr J. O'Brien.)

I am sorry to say that I cannot reconcile it to my conscience to follow the advice which has been just given

me by my honourable friend the Member for Pomfret (Mr R. Milnes.), with all the authority which, as he has

reminded us, belongs to his venerable youth. I cannot at all agree with him in thinking that the wisest thing

that we can do is to suffer Her Majesty's Ministers to go on in their own way, seeing that the way in which

they have long been going on is an exceedingly bad one. I support the motion of my noble friend for these

First, I hold that Ireland is in a most unsatisfactory, indeed in a most dangerous, state.

Secondly, I hold that for the state in which Ireland is Her Majesty's Ministers are in a great measure

accountable, and that they have not shown, either as legislators, or as administrators, that they are capable of

Now, Sir, if I make out these two propositions, it will follow that it is the constitutional right and duty of the

representatives of the nation to interfere; and I conceive that my noble friend, by moving for a Committee of

the whole House, has proposed a mode of interference which is both parliamentary and convenient.

My first proposition, Sir, will scarcely be disputed. Both sides of the House are fully agreed in thinking that

the condition of Ireland may well excite great anxiety and apprehension. That island, in extent about one

fourth of the United Kingdom, in population more than onefourth, superior probably in natural fertility to

any area of equal size in Europe, possessed of natural facilities for trade such as can nowhere else be found in

an equal extent of coast, an inexhaustible nursery of gallant soldiers, a country far more important to the

prosperity, the strength, the dignity of this great empire than all our distant dependencies together, than the

Canadas and the West Indies added to Southern Africa, to Australasia, to Ceylon, and to the vast dominions

of the Moguls, that island, Sir, is acknowledged by all to be so ill affected and so turbulent that it must, in any

estimate of our power, be not added but deducted. You admit that you govern that island, not as you govern

England and Scotland, but as you govern your new conquests in Scinde; not by means of the respect which

the people feel for the laws, but by means of bayonets, of artillery, of entrenched camps.

My first proposition, then, I take to be conceded. Ireland is in a dangerous state. The question which remains

to be considered is, whether for the state in which Ireland is Her Majesty's Ministers are to be held

Now, Sir, I at once admit that the distempers of Ireland must in part be attributed to causes for which neither

Her Majesty's present Ministers nor any public men now living can justly be held accountable. I will not

trouble the House with a long dissertation on those causes. But it is necessary, I think, to take at least a rapid

glance at them: and in order to do so, Sir, we must go back to a period not only anterior to the birth of the

statesmen who are now arrayed against each other on the right and left of your chair, but anterior to the birth

even of the great parties of which those statesmen are the leaders; anterior to the days when the names of

Tory and Whig, of court party and country party, of cavalier and roundhead, came into use; anterior to the

existence of those Puritans to whom the honourable Member for Shrewsbury (Mr Disraeli.), in a very

The primary cause is, no doubt, the manner in which Ireland became subject to the English crown. The

annexation was effected by conquest, and by conquest of a peculiar kind. It was not a conquest such as we

have been accustomed to see in modern Europe. It was not a conquest like that which united Artois and

Franche Comte to France, or Silesia to Prussia. It was the conquest of a race by a race, such a conquest as that

which established the dominion of the Spaniard over the American Indian, or of the Mahratta over the

peasant of Guzerat or Tanjore. Of all forms of tyranny, I believe that the worst is that of a nation over a

nation. Populations separated by seas and mountain ridges may call each other natural enemies, may wage

long wars with each other, may recount with pride the victories which they have gained over each other, and

point to the flags, the guns, the ships which they have won from each other. But no enmity that ever existed

between such populations approaches in bitterness the mutual enmity felt by populations which are locally

intermingled, but which have never morally and politically amalgamated; and such were the Englishry and

the Irishry. Yet it might have been hoped that the lapse of time and the progress of civilisation would have

effaced the distinction between the oppressors and the oppressed. Our island had suffered cruelly from the

same evil. Here the Saxon had trampled on the Celt, the Dane on the Saxon, the Norman on Celt, Saxon, and

Dane. Yet in the course of ages all the four races had been fused together to form the great English people. A

similar fusion would probably have taken place in Ireland, but for the Reformation. The English settlers

adopted the Protestant doctrines which were received in England. The Aborigines alone, among all the

nations of the north of Europe, adhered to the ancient faith. Thus the line of demarcation between the two

populations was deepened and widened. The old enmity was reinforced by a new enmity stronger still. Then

came those events to which the honourable Member for Shrewsbury referred. The spirit of liberty in England

was closely allied with the spirit of Puritanism, and was mortally hostile to the Papacy. Such men as

Hampden, Vane, Milton, Locke, though zealous generally for civil and spiritual freedom, yet held that the

Roman Catholic worship had no claim to toleration. On the other hand, all the four kings of the House of

Stuart showed far more favour to Roman Catholics than to any class of Protestant nonconformists. James the

First at one time had some hopes of effecting a reconciliation with the Vatican. Charles the First entered into

secret engagements to grant an indulgence to Roman Catholics. Charles the Second was a concealed Roman

Catholic. James the Second was an avowed Roman Catholic. Consequently, through the whole of the

seventeenth century, the freedom of Ireland and the slavery of England meant the same thing. The

watchwords, the badges, the names, the places, the days, which in the mind of an Englishman were associated

with deliverance, prosperity, national dignity, were in the mind of an Irishman associated with bondage, ruin,

and degradation. The memory of William the Third, the anniversary of the battle of the Boyne, are instances.

I was much struck by a circumstance which occurred on a day which I have every reason to remember with

gratitude and pride, the day on which I had the high honour of being declared one of the first two members

for the great borough of Leeds. My chair was covered with orange ribands. The horses which drew it could

hardly be seen for the profusion of orange coloured finery with which they were adorned. Orange cockades

were in all the hats; orange favours at all the windows. And my supporters, I need not say, were men who

had, like myself, been zealous for Catholic emancipation. I could not help remarking that the badge seemed

rather incongruous. But I was told that the friends of Catholic emancipation in Yorkshire had always rallied

under the orange banner, that orange was the colour of Sir George Savile, who brought in that bill which

caused the No Popery riots of 1780, and that the very chair in which I sate was the chair in which Lord

Milton, now Earl Fitzwilliam, had triumphed after the great victory which he won in 1807 over the No

Popery party, then headed by the house of Harewood. I thought how different an effect that procession would

have produced at Limerick or Cork, with what howls of rage and hatred the Roman Catholic population of

those cities would have pursued that orange flag which, to every Roman Catholic in Yorkshire, was the

memorial of contests maintained in favour of his own dearest rights. This circumstance, however slight, well

illustrates the singular contrast between the history of England and the history of Ireland.

Well, Sir, twice during the seventeenth century the Irish rose up against the English colony. Twice they were

completely put down; and twice they were severely chastised. The first rebellion was crushed by Oliver

Cromwell; the second by William the Third. Those great men did not use their victory exactly in the same

way. The policy of Cromwell was wise, and strong, and straightforward, and cruel. It was comprised in one

word, which, as Clarendon tells us, was often in the mouths of the Englishry of that time. That word was

extirpation. The object of Cromwell was to make Ireland thoroughly AngloSaxon and Protestant. If he had

lived twenty years longer he might perhaps have accomplished that work: but he died while it was

incomplete; and it died with him. The policy of William, or to speak more correctly, of those whose

inclinations William was under the necessity of consulting, was less able, less energetic, and, though more

humane in seeming, perhaps not more humane in reality. Extirpation was not attempted. The Irish Roman

Catholics were permitted to live, to be fruitful, to replenish the earth: but they were doomed to be what the

Helots were in Sparta, what the Greeks were under the Ottoman, what the blacks now are at New York.

Every man of the subject caste was strictly excluded from public trust. Take what path he might in life, he

was crossed at every step by some vexatious restriction. It was only by being obscure and inactive that he

could, on his native soil, be safe. If he aspired to be powerful and honoured, he must begin by being an exile.

If he pined for military glory, he might gain a cross or perhaps a Marshal's staff in the armies of France or

Austria. If his vocation was to politics, he might distinguish himself in the diplomacy of Italy or Spain. But at

home he was a mere Gibeonite, a hewer of wood and a drawer of water. The statute book of Ireland was filled

with enactments which furnish to the Roman Catholics but too good a ground for recriminating on us when

we talk of the barbarities of Bonner and Gardiner; and the harshness of those odious laws was aggravated by

a more odious administration. For, bad as the legislators were, the magistrates were worse still. In those evil

times originated that most unhappy hostility between landlord and tenant, which is one of the peculiar curses

of Ireland. Oppression and turbulence reciprocally generated each other. The combination of rustic tyrants

was resisted by gangs of rustic banditti. Courts of law and juries existed only for the benefit of the dominant

sect. Those priests who were revered by millions as their natural advisers and guardians, as the only

authorised expositors of Christian truth, as the only authorised dispensers of the Christian sacraments, were

treated by the squires and squireens of the ruling faction as no goodnatured man would treat the vilest

beggar. In this manner a century passed away. Then came the French Revolution and the great awakening of

the mind of Europe. It would have been wonderful indeed if, when the happiest and most tranquil nations

were agitated by vague discontents and vague hopes, Ireland had remained at rest. Jacobinism, it is true, was

not a very natural ally of the Roman Catholic religion. But common enmities produce strange coalitions; and

a strange coalition was formed. There was a third great rising of the aboriginal population of the island

against English and Protestant ascendency. That rising was put down by the sword; and it became the duty of

those who were at the head of affairs to consider how the victory should be used.

I shall not be suspected of being partial to the memory of Mr Pitt. But I cannot refuse to him the praise both

of wisdom and of humanity, when I compare the plan which he formed in that hour of triumph with the plans

of those English rulers who had before him governed Ireland. Of Mr Pitt's plan the Union was a part, an

excellent and an essential part indeed, but still only a part. We shall do great injustice both to his head and to

his heart, if we forget that he was permitted to carry into effect only some unconnected portions of a

comprehensive and wellconcerted scheme. He wished to blend, not only the parliaments, but the nations,

and to make the two islands one in interest and affection. With that view the Roman Catholic disabilities

were to be removed: the Roman Catholic priests were to be placed in a comfortable and honourable position;

and measures were to be taken for the purpose of giving to Roman Catholics the benefits of liberal education.

In truth, Mr Pitt's opinions on those subjects had, to a great extent, been derived from a mind even more

powerful and capacious than his own, from the mind of Mr Burke. If the authority of these two great men had

prevailed, I believe that the Union with Ireland would now have been as secure, and as much beyond the

reach of agitation, as the Union with Scotland. The Parliament in College Green would have been

remembered as what it was, the most tyrannical, the most venal, the most unprincipled assembly that ever

sate on the face of this earth. I do not think that, by saying this, I can give offence to any gentleman from

Ireland, however zealous for Repeal he may be: for I only repeat the language of Wolfe Tone. Wolfe Tone

said that he had seen more deliberative assemblies than most men; that he had seen the English Parliament,

the American Congress, the French Council of Elders and Council of Five Hundred, the Batavian

Convention; but that he had nowhere found anything like the baseness and impudence of the scoundrels, as

he called them, at Dublin. If Mr Pitt's whole plan had been carried into execution, that infamous parliament,

that scandal to the name of parliament, would have perished unregretted; and the last day of its existence

would have been remembered by the Roman Catholics of Ireland as the first day of their civil and religious

liberty. The great boon which he would have conferred on them would have been gratefully received, because

it could not have been ascribed to fear, because it would have been a boon bestowed by the powerful on the

weak, by the victor on the vanquished. Unhappily, of all his projects for the benefit of Ireland the Union

alone was carried into effect; and therefore that Union was an Union only in name. The Irish found that they

had parted with at least the name and show of independence, and that for this sacrifice of national pride they

were to receive no compensation. The Union, which ought to have been associated in their minds with

freedom and justice, was associated only with disappointed hopes and forfeited pledges. Yet it was not even

then too late. It was not too late in 1813. It was not too late in 1821. It was not too late in 1825. Yes: if, even

in 1825, some men who then were, as they now are, high in the service of the crown, could have made up

their minds to do what they were forced to do four years later, that great work of conciliation which Mr Pitt

had meditated might have been accomplished. The machinery of agitation was not yet fully organized: the

Government was under no strong pressure; and therefore concession might still have been received with

In 1829, at length, concessions were made, were made largely, were made without the conditions which Mr

Pitt would undoubtedly have demanded, and to which, if demanded by Mr Pitt, the whole body of Roman

Catholics would have eagerly assented. But those concessions were made reluctantly, made ungraciously,

made under duress, made from the mere dread of civil war. How then was it possible that they should

produce contentment and repose? What could be the effect of that sudden and profuse liberality following

that long and obstinate resistance to the most reasonable demands, except to teach the Irishman that he could

obtain redress only by turbulence? Could he forget that he had been, during eight and twenty years,

supplicating Parliament for justice, urging those unanswerable arguments which prove that the rights of

conscience ought to be held sacred, claiming the performance of promises made by ministers and princes, and

that he had supplicated, argued, claimed the performance of promises in vain? Could he forget that two

generations of the most profound thinkers, the most brilliant wits, the most eloquent orators, had written and

spoken for him in vain? Could he forget that the greatest statesman who took his part had paid dear for their

generosity? Mr Pitt endeavoured to redeem his pledge; and he was driven from office. Lord Grey and Lord

Grenville endeavoured to do but a very small part of what Mr Pitt had thought right and expedient; and they

were driven from office. Mr Canning took the same side; and his reward was to be worried to death by the

party of which he was the brightest ornament. At length, when he was gone, the Roman Catholics began to

look, not to cabinets and parliaments, but to themselves. They displayed a formidable array of physical force,

and yet kept within, just within, the limits of the law. The consequence was that, in two years, more than any

prudent friend had ventured to demand for them was granted to them by their enemies. Yes; within two years

after Mr Canning had been laid in the transept near us, all that he would have done, and more than he could

have done, was done by his persecutors. How was it possible that the whole Roman Catholic population of

Ireland should not take up the notion that from England, or at least from the party which then governed and

which now governs England, nothing is to be got by reason, by entreaty, by patient endurance, but everything

by intimidation? That tardy repentance deserved no gratitude, and obtained none. The whole machinery of

agitation was complete and in perfect order. The leaders had tasted the pleasures of popularity; the multitude

had tasted the pleasures of excitement. Both the demagogue and his audience felt a craving for the daily

stimulant. Grievances enough remained, God knows, to serve as pretexts for agitation: and the whole conduct

of the Government had led the sufferers to believe that by agitation alone could any grievance be removed.

Such, Sir, is the history of the rise and progress of the disorders of Ireland. Misgovernment, lasting without

interruption from the reign of Henry the Second to the reign of William the Fourth, has left us an immense

mass of discontent, which will, no doubt, in ordinary times, make the task of any statesman whom the Queen

may call to power sufficiently difficult. But though this be true, it is not less true, that the immediate causes

of the extraordinary agitation which alarms us at this moment is to be found in the misconduct of Her

Majesty's present advisers. For, Sir, though Ireland is always combustible, Ireland is not always on fire. We

must distinguish between the chronic complaints which are to be attributed to remote causes, and the acute

attack which is brought on by recent imprudence. For though there is always a predisposition to disease in

that unhappy society, the violent paroxysms come only at intervals. I must own that I am indebted for some

of my imagery to the right honourable Baronet the First Lord of the Treasury. When he sate on this bench,

and was only a candidate for the great place which he now fills, he compared himself to a medical man at the

bedside of a patient. Continuing his metaphor, I may say that his prognosis, his diagnosis, his treatment, have

all been wrong. I do not deny that the case was difficult. The sufferer was of a very ill habit of body, and had

formerly suffered many things of many physicians, and, among others, I must say, of the right honourable

Baronet himself. Still the malady had, a very short time ago, been got under, and kept under by the judicious

use of lenitives; and there was reason to hope that if that salutary regimen had been steadily followed, there

would have been a speedy improvement in the general health. Unhappily, the new State hygeist chose to

apply irritants which have produced a succession of convulsive fits, each more violent than that which

preceded it. To drop the figure, it is impossible to doubt that Lord Melbourne's government was popular with

the great body of the Roman Catholics of Ireland. It is impossible to doubt that the two Viceroys whom he

sent to Ireland were more loved and honoured by the Irish people than any Viceroys before whom the sword

of state has ever been borne. Under the late Government, no doubt, the empire was threatened by many

dangers; but, to whatever quarter the Ministers might look with uneasy apprehension, to Ireland they could

always look with confidence. When bad men raised disturbances here, when a Chartist rabble fired on the

Queen's soldiers, numerous regiments could, without the smallest risk, be spared from Ireland. When a

rebellion broke out in one of our colonies,a rebellion too which it might have been expected that the Irish

would regard with favour, for it was a rebellion of Roman Catholics against Protestant rulers,even then

Ireland was true to the general interests of the empire, and troops were sent from Munster and Connaught to

put down insurrection in Canada. No person will deny that if, in 1840, we had unhappily been forced into

war, and if a hostile army had landed in Bantry Bay, the whole population of Cork and Tipperary would have

risen up to defend the throne of Her Majesty, and would have offered to the invaders a resistance as

determined as would have been offered by the men of Kent or Norfolk. And by what means was this salutary

effect produced? Not by great legislative reforms: for, unfortunately, that Government, though it had the will,

had not the power to carry such reforms against the sense of a strong minority in this House, and of a decided

majority of the Peers. No, Sir; this effect was produced merely by the wisdom, justice, and humanity with

which the existing law, defective as it might be, was administered. The late Government, calumniated and

thwarted at every turn, contending against the whole influence of the Established Church, and of the great

body of the nobility and landed gentry, yet did show a disposition to act kindly and fairly towards Ireland,

and did, to the best of its power, treat Protestants and Roman Catholics alike. If we had been as strong as our

successors in parliamentary support, if we had been able to induce the two Houses to follow in legislation the

same principles by which we were guided in administration, the Union with Ireland would now have been as

secure from the assaults of agitators as the Union with Scotland. But this was not to be. During six years an

opposition, formidable in numbers, formidable in ability, selected as the especial object of the fiercest and

most pertinacious attacks those very acts of the Government which had, after centuries of mutual animosity,

half reconciled the two islands. Those Lords Lieutenant who, in Ireland, were venerated as no preceding Lord

Lieutenant had ever been venerated, were here reviled as no preceding Lord Lieutenant had ever been reviled.

Every action, every word which was applauded by the nation committed to their care, was here imputed to

them as a crime. Every bill framed by the advisers of the Crown for the benefit of Ireland was either rejected

or mutilated. A few Roman Catholics of distinguished merit were appointed to situations which were indeed

below their just claims, but which were higher than any member of their Church had filled during many

generations. Two or three Roman Catholics were sworn of the Council; one took his seat at the Board of

Treasury; another at the Board of Admiralty. There was great joy in Ireland; and no wonder. What had been

done was not much; but the ban had been taken off; the Emancipation Act, which had been little more than a

dead letter, was at length a reality. But in England all the underlings of the great Tory party set up a howl of

rage and hatred worthy of Lord George Gordon's No Popery mob. The right honourable Baronet now at the

head of the Treasury, with his usual prudence, abstained from joining in the cry, and was content to listen to

it, to enjoy it, and to profit by it. But some of those who ranked next to him among the chiefs of the

opposition, did not imitate his politic reserve. One great man denounced the Irish as aliens. Another called

them minions of Popery. Those teachers of religion to whom millions looked up with affection and reverence

were called by the Protestant press demon priests and surpliced ruffians, and were denounced from the

Protestant pulpit as pontiffs of Baal, as false prophets who were to be slain with the sword. We were

reminded that a Queen of the chosen people had in the old time patronised the ministers of idolatry, and that

her blood had been given to the dogs. Not content with throwing out or frittering down every law beneficial

to Ireland, not content with censuring in severe terms every act of the executive government which gave

satisfaction in Ireland, you, yes you, who now fill the great offices of state, assumed the offensive. From

obstruction you proceeded to aggression. You brought in a bill which you called a Bill for the Registration of

Electors in Ireland. We then told you that it was a bill for the wholesale disfranchisement of the electors of

Ireland. We then proved incontrovertibly that, under pretence of reforming the law of procedure, you were

really altering the substantive law; that, by making it impossible for any man to vindicate his right to vote

without trouble, expense, and loss of time, you were really taking away the votes of tens of thousands. You

denied all this then. You very coolly admit it all now. Am I to believe that you did know it as well in 1841 as

in 1844? Has one new fact been brought to light? Has one argument been discovered which was not, three or

four years ago, urged twenty, thirty, forty times in this House? Why is it that you have, when in power,

abstained from proposing that change in the mode of registration which, when you were out of power, you

represented as indispensable? You excuse yourselves by saying that now the responsibilities of office are

upon you. In plain words, your trick has served its purpose. Your object,for I will do justice to your

patriotism,your object was not to ruin your country, but to get in; and you are in. Such public virtue

deserved such a reward, a reward which has turned out a punishment, a reward which ought to be, while the

world lasts, a warning to unscrupulous ambition. Many causes contributed to place you in your present

situation. But the chief cause was, beyond all doubt, the prejudice which you excited amongst the English

against the just and humane manner in which the late Ministers governed Ireland. In your impatience for

office, you called up the devil of religious intolerance, a devil more easily evoked than dismissed. He did

your work; and he holds your bond. You once found him an useful slave: but you have since found him a

hard master. It was pleasant, no doubt, to be applauded by high churchmen and low churchmen, by the

Sheldonian Theatre and by Exeter Hall. It was pleasant to be described as the champions of the Protestant

faith, as the men who stood up for the Gospel against that spurious liberality which made no distinction

between truth and falsehood. It was pleasant to hear your opponents called by every nickname that is to be

found in the foul vocabulary of the Reverend Hugh Mcneill. It was pleasant to hear that they were the allies

of Antichrist, that they were the servants of the man of sin, that they were branded with the mark of the Beast.

But when all this slander and scurrility had raised you to power, when you found that you had to manage

millions of those who had been, year after year, constantly insulted and defamed by yourselves and your

lacqueys, your hearts began to fail you. Now you tell us that you have none but kind and respectful feelings

towards the Irish Roman Catholics, that you wish to conciliate them, that you wish to carry the Emancipation

Act into full effect, that nothing would give you more pleasure than to place on the bench of justice a Roman

Catholic lawyer of conservative politics, that nothing would give you more pleasure than to place at the

Board of Treasury, or at the Board of Admiralty, some Roman Catholic gentleman of conservative politics,

distinguished by his talents for business or debate. Your only reason, you assure us, for not promoting Roman

Catholics is that all the Roman Catholics are your enemies; and you ask whether any Minister can be

expected to promote his enemies. For my part I do not doubt that you would willingly promote Roman

Catholics: for, as I have said, I give you full credit for not wishing to do your country more harm than is

necessary for the purpose of turning out and keeping out the Whigs. I also fully admit that you cannot be

blamed for not promoting your enemies. But what I want to know is, how it happens that all the Roman

Catholics in the United Kingdom are your enemies. Was such a thing ever heard of before? Here are six or

seven millions of people of all professions, of all trades, of all grades of rank, fortune, intellect, education.

Begin with the premier Peer, the Earl Marshal of the realm, the chief of the Howards, the heir of the

Mowbrays and Fitzalans, and go down through earls, barons, baronets, lawyers, and merchants, to the very

poorest peasant that eats his potatoes without salt in Mayo; and all these millions to a man are arrayed against

the Government. How do you explain this? Is there any natural connection between the Roman Catholic

theology and the political theories held by Whigs and by reformers more democratical than the Whigs? Not

only is there no natural connection, but there is a natural opposition. Of all Christian sects the Roman

Catholic Church holds highest the authority of antiquity, of tradition, of immemorial usage. Her spirit is

eminently conservative, nay, in the opinion of all Protestants, conservative to an unreasonable and pernicious

extent. A man who has been taught from childhood to regard with horror all innovation in religion is surely

less likely than another man to be a bold innovator in politics. It is probable that a zealous Roman Catholic, if

there were no disturbing cause, would be a Tory; and the Roman Catholics were all Tories till you persecuted

them into Whiggism and Radicalism. In the civil war, how many Roman Catholics were there in Fairfax's

army? I believe, not one. They were all under the banner of Charles the First. When a reward of five thousand

pounds was offered for Charles the Second alive or dead, when to conceal him was to run a most serious risk

of the gallows, it was among Roman Catholics that he found shelter. It has been the same in other countries.

When everything else in France was prostrate before the Jacobins, the Roman Catholic peasantry of Brittany

and Poitou still stood up for the House of Bourbon. Against the gigantic power of Napoleon, the Roman

Catholic peasantry of the Tyrol maintained unaided the cause of the House of Hapsburg. It would be easy to

multiply examples. And can we believe, in defiance of all reason and of all history, that, if the Roman

Catholics of the United Kingdom had been tolerably well governed, they would not have been attached to the

Government? In my opinion the Tories never committed so great an error as when they scourged away and

spurned away the Roman Catholics. Mr Burke understood this well. The sentiment which, towards the close

of his life, held the entire possession of his mind, was a horror,a morbid horror it at last became,of

Jacobinism, and of everything that seemed to him to tend towards Jacobinism, and, like a great statesman and

philosopher,for such he was even in his errors,he perceived, and he taught Mr Pitt to perceive, that, in

the war against Jacobinism, the Roman Catholics were the natural allies of royalty and aristocracy. But the

help of these allies was contumeliously rejected by those politicians who make themselves ridiculous by

carousing on Mr Pitt's birthday, while they abjure all Mr Pitt's principles. The consequence is, as you are

forced to own, that there is not in the whole kingdom a Roman Catholic of note who is your friend.

Therefore, whatever your inclinations may be, you must intrust power in Ireland to Protestants, to

UltraProtestants, to men who, whether they belong to Orange lodges or not, are in spirit Orangemen. Every

appointment which you make increases the discontent of the Roman Catholics. The more discontented they

are, the less you can venture to employ them. The way in which you treated them while you were in

opposition has raised in them such a dislike and distrust of you that you cannot carry the Emancipation Act

into effect, though, as you tell us, and as I believe, you sincerely desire to do so. As respects the offices of

which you dispose, that Act is null and void. Of all the boons which that Act purports to bestow on Roman

Catholics they really enjoy only one, admission to Parliament: and that they would not enjoy if you had been

able three years ago to carry your Irish Registration Bill. You have wounded national feeling: you have

wounded religious feeling: and the animosity which you have roused shows itself in a hundred ways, some of

which I abhor, some of which I lament, but at none of which I can wonder. They are the natural effects of

insult and injury on quick and ill regulated sensibility. You, for your own purposes, inflamed the public mind

of England against Ireland; and you have no right to be surprised by finding that the public mind of Ireland is

inflamed against England. You called a fourth part of the people of the United Kingdom aliens: and you must

not blame them for feeling and acting like aliens. You have filled every public department with their enemies.

What then could you expect but that they would set up against your Lord Lieutenant and your official

hierarchy a more powerful chief and a more powerful organization of their own? They remember, and it

would be strange indeed if they had forgotten, what under the same chief, and by a similar organization, they

extorted from you in 1829; and they are determined to try whether you are bolder and more obstinate now

Such are the difficulties of this crisis. To a great extent they are of your own making. And what have you

done in order to get out of them? Great statesmen have sometimes committed great mistakes, and yet have by

wisdom and firmness extricated themselves from the embarrassments which those mistakes had caused. Let

us see whether you are entitled to rank among such statesmen. And first, what,commanding, as you do, a

great majority in this and in the other House of Parliament,what have you done in the way of legislation?

The answer is very short and simple. The beginning and end of all your legislation for Ireland will be found

in the Arms Act of last session. You will hardly call that conciliation; and I shall not call it coercion. It was

mere petty annoyance. It satisfied nobody. We called on you to redress the wrongs of Ireland. Many of your

own friends called on you to stifle her complaints. One noble and learned person was so much disgusted by

your remissness that he employed his own great abilities and his own valuable time in framing a new

coercion bill for you. You were deaf alike to us and to him. The whole fruit of your legislative wisdom was

Your executive administration through the whole recess has been one long blunder. The way in which your

Lord Lieutenant and his advisers acted about the Clontarf meeting would alone justify a severe vote of

censure. The noble lord, the Secretary for the Colonies (Lord Stanley.), has told us that the Government did

all that was possible to caution the people against attending that meeting, and that it would be unreasonable to

censure men for not performing impossibilities. Now, Sir, the ministers themselves acknowledge that, as

early as the morning of the Friday which preceded the day fixed for the meeting, the Lord Lieutenant

determined to put forth a proclamation against the meeting. Yet the proclamation was not published in Dublin

and the suburbs till after nightfall on Saturday. The meeting was fixed for the Sunday morning. Will any

person have the hardihood to assert that it was impossible to have a proclamation drawn up, printed and

circulated, in twentyfour hours, nay in six hours? It is idle to talk of the necessity of weighing well the

words of such a document. The Lord Lieutenant should have weighed well the value of the lives of his royal

mistress's subjects. Had he done so, there can be no doubt that the proclamation might have been placarded

on every wall in and near Dublin early in the forenoon of the Saturday. The negligence of the Government

would probably have caused the loss of many lives but for the interposition of the man whom you are

persecuting. Fortune stood your friend; and he stood your friend; and thus a slaughter more terrible than that

But you were incorrigible. No sooner had you, by strange good luck, got out of one scrape, than you made

haste to get into another, out of which, as far as I can see, you have no chance of escape. You instituted the

most unwise, the most unfortunate of all state prosecutions. You seem not to have at all known what you

were doing. It appears never to have occurred to you that there was any difference between a criminal

proceeding which was certain to fix the attention of the whole civilised world and an ordinary qui tam action

for a penalty. The evidence was such and the law such that you were likely to get a verdict and a judgment;

and that was enough for you. Now, Sir, in such a case as this, the probability of getting the verdict and the

judgment is only a part, and a very small part, of what a statesman ought to consider. Before you determined

to bring the most able, the most powerful, the most popular of your opponents to the bar as a criminal, on

account of the manner in which he had opposed you, you ought to have asked yourselves whether the

decision which you expected to obtain from the tribunals would be ratified by the voice of your own country,

of foreign countries, of posterity; whether the general opinion of mankind might not be that, though you were

legally in the right, you were morally in the wrong. It was no common person that you were bent on

punishing. About that person I feel, I own, considerable difficulty in saying anything. He is placed in a

situation which would prevent generous enemies, which has prevented all the members of this House, with

one ignominious exception, from assailing him acrimoniously. I will try, in speaking of him, to pay the

respect due to eminence and to misfortune without violating the respect due to truth. I am convinced that the

end which he is pursuing is not only mischievous but unattainable: and some of the means which he has

stooped to use for the purpose of attaining that end I regard with deep disapprobation. But it is impossible for

me not to see that the place which he holds in the estimation of his countrymen is such as no popular leader in

our history, I might perhaps say in the history of the world, has ever attained. Nor is the interest which he

inspires confined to Ireland or to the United Kingdom. Go where you will on the Continent: visit any coffee

house: dine at any public table: embark on board of any steamboat: enter any diligence, any railway carriage:

from the moment that your accent shows you to be an Englishman, the very first question asked by your

companions, be they what they may, physicians, advocates, merchants, manufacturers, or what we should call

yeomen, is certain to be "What will be done with Mr O'Connell?" Look over any file of French journals; and

you will see what a space he occupies in the eyes of the French people. It is most unfortunate, but it is a truth,

and a truth which we ought always to bear in mind, that there is among our neighbours a feeling about the

connection between England and Ireland not very much unlike the feeling which exists here about the

connection between Russia and Poland. All the sympathies of all continental politicians are with the Irish. We

are regarded as the oppressors, and the Irish as the oppressed. An insurrection in Ireland would have the good

wishes of a great majority of the people of Europe. And, Sir, it is natural that it should be so. For the cause of

the Irish repealers has two different aspects, a democratic aspect, and a Roman Catholic aspect, and is

therefore regarded with favour by foreigners of almost every shade of opinion. The extreme left,to use the

French nomenclature, wishes success to a great popular movement against the throne and the aristocracy.

The extreme right wishes success to a movement headed by the bishops and priests of the true Church against

a heretical government and a heretical hierarchy. The consequence is that, in a contest with Ireland, you will

not have, out of this island, a single wellwisher in the world. I do not say this in order to intimidate you. But

I do say that, on an occasion on which all Christendom was watching your conduct with an unfriendly and

suspicious eye, you should have carefully avoided everything that looked like foul play. Unhappily you were

too much bent on gaining the victory; and you have gained a victory more disgraceful and disastrous than any

defeat. Mr O'Connell has been convicted: but you cannot deny that he has been wronged: you cannot deny

that irregularities have been committed, or that the effect of those irregularities has been to put you in a better

situation and him in a worse situation than the law contemplated. It is admitted that names which ought to

have been in the jurylist were not there. It is admitted that all, or almost all, the names which were

wrongfully excluded were the names of Roman Catholics. As to the number of those who were wrongfully

excluded there is some dispute. An affidavit has been produced which puts the number at twentyseven. The

right honourable gentleman, the Recorder of Dublin, who of course puts the number as low as he

conscientiously can, admits twentyfour. But some gentlemen maintain that this irregularity, though

doubtless blamable, cannot have had any effect on the event of the trial. What, they ask, are twenty or

twentyseven names in seven hundred and twenty? Why, Sir, a very simple arithmetical calculation will

show that the irregularity was of grave importance. Of the seven hundred and twenty, fortyeight were to be

selected by lot, and then reduced by alternate striking to twelve. The fortyeighth part of seven hundred and

twenty is fifteen. If, therefore, there had been fifteen more Roman Catholics in the jurylist, it would have

been an even chance that there would have been one Roman Catholic more among the fortyeight. If there

had been twentyseven more Roman Catholics in the list, it would have been almost an even chance that

there would have been two Roman Catholics more among the fortyeight. Is it impossible, is it improbable

that, but for this trick or this blunder,I will not now inquire which,the result of the trial might have been

different? For, remember the power which the law gives to a single juror. He can, if his mind is fully made

up, prevent a conviction. I heard murmurs when I used the word trick. Am I not justified in feeling a doubt

which it is quite evident that Mr Justice Perrin feels? He is reported to have said,and I take the report of

newspapers favourable to the Government,he is reported to have said that there had been great

carelessness, great neglect of duty, that there were circumstances which raised grave suspicion, and that he

was not prepared to say that the irregularity was accidental. The noble lord the Secretary for the Colonies has

admonished us to pay respect to the judges. I am sure that I pay the greatest respect to everything that falls

from Mr Justice Perrin. He must know much better than I, much better than any Englishman, what artifices

are likely to be employed by Irish functionaries for the purpose of packing a jury; and he tells us that he is not

satisfied that this irregularity was the effect of mere inadvertence. But, says the right honourable Baronet, the

Secretary for the Home Department, "I am not responsible for this irregularity." Most true: and nobody holds

the right honourable Baronet responsible for it. But he goes on to say, "I lament this irregularity most

sincerely: for I believe that it has raised a prejudice against the administration of justice." Exactly so. That is

just what I say. I say that a prejudice has been created against the administration of justice. I say that a taint of

suspicion has been thrown on the verdict which you have obtained. And I ask whether it is right and decent in

you to avail yourselves of a verdict on which such a taint has been thrown? The only wise, the only

honourable course open to you was to say, "A mistake has been committed: that mistake has given us an

unfair advantage; and of that advantage we will not make use." Unhappily, the time when you might have

taken this course, and might thus to a great extent have repaired your former errors, has been suffered to

Well, you had fortyeight names taken by lot from this mutilated jurylist: and then came the striking. You

struck out all the Roman Catholic names: and you give us your reasons for striking out these names, reasons

which I do not think it worth while to examine. The real question which you should have considered was this:

Can a great issue between two hostile religions,for such the issue was,be tried in a manner above all

suspicion by a jury composed exclusively of men of one of those religions? I know that in striking out the

Roman Catholics you did nothing that was not according to technical rules. But my great charge against you

is that you have looked on this whole case in a technical point of view, that you have been attorneys when

you should have been statesmen. The letter of the law was doubtless with you; but not the noble spirit of the

law. The jury de medietate linguae is of immemorial antiquity among us. Suppose that a Dutch sailor at

Wapping is accused of stabbing an Englishman in a brawl. The fate of the culprit is decided by a mixed body,

by six Englishmen and six Dutchmen. Such were the securities which the wisdom and justice of our ancestors

gave to aliens. You are ready enough to call Mr O'Connell an alien when it serves your purposes to do so.

You are ready enough to inflict on the Irish Roman Catholic all the evils of alienage. But the one privilege,

the one advantage of alienage, you deny him. In a case which of all cases most require a jury de medietate, in

a case which sprang out of the mutual hostility of races and sects, you pack a jury all of one race and all of

one sect. Why, if you were determined to go on with this unhappy prosecution, not have a common jury?

There was no difficulty in having such a jury; and among the jurors might have been some respectable

Roman Catholics who were not members of the Repeal Association. A verdict of Not Guilty from such a jury

would have done you infinitely less harm than the verdict of Guilty which you have succeeded in obtaining.

Yes, you have obtained a verdict of Guilty; but you have obtained that verdict from twelve men brought

together by illegal means, and selected in such a manner that their decision can inspire no confidence. You

have obtained that verdict by the help of a Chief Justice of whose charge I can hardly trust myself to speak.

To do him right, however, I will say that his charge was not, as it has been called, unprecedented; for it bears

a very close resemblance to some charges which may be found in the state trials of the reign of Charles the

Second. However, with this jurylist, with this jury, with this judge, you have a verdict. And what have you

gained by it? Have you pacified Ireland? No doubt there is just at the present moment an apparent

tranquillity; but it is a tranquillity more alarming than turbulence. The Irish will be quiet till you begin to put

the sentence of imprisonment into execution, because, feeling the deepest interest in the fate of their

persecuted Tribune, they will do nothing that can be prejudicial to him. But will they be quiet when the door

of a gaol has been closed on him? Is it possible to believe that an agitator, whom they adored while his

agitation was a source of profit to him, will lose his hold on their affections by being a martyr in what they

consider as their cause? If I, who am strongly attached to the Union, who believe that the Repeal of the Union

would be fatal to the empire, and who think Mr O'Connell's conduct highly reprehensible, cannot

conscientiously say that he has had a fair trial, if the prosecutors themselves are forced to own that things

have happened which have excited a prejudice against the verdict and the judgment, what must be the

feelings of the people of Ireland, who believe not merely that he is guiltless, but that he is the best friend that

they ever had? He will no longer be able to harangue them: but his wrongs will stir their blood more than his

eloquence ever did; nor will he in confinement be able to exercise that influence which has so often restrained

Turn where we will, the prospect is gloomy; and that which of all things most disturbs me is this, that your

experience, sharp as it has been, does not seem to have made you wiser. All that I have been able to collect

from your declarations leads me to apprehend that, while you continue to hold power, the future will be of a

piece with the past. As to your executive administration, you hold out no hope that it will be other than it has

been. If we look back, your only remedies for the disorders of Ireland have been an impolitic state

prosecution, an unfair state trial, barracks and soldiers. If we look forward, you promise us no remedies but

an unjust sentence, the harsh execution of that sentence, more barracks and more soldiers.

You do indeed try to hold out hopes of one or two legislative reforms beneficial to Ireland; but these hopes, I

am afraid, will prove delusive. You hint that you have prepared a Registration bill, of which the effect will be

to extend the elective franchise. What the provisions of that bill may be we do not know. But this we know,

that the matter is one about which it is utterly impossible for you to do anything that shall be at once

honourable to yourselves and useful to the country. Before we see your plan, we can say with perfect

confidence that it must either destroy the last remnant of the representative system in Ireland, or the last

About the much agitated question of land tenure you acknowledge that you have at present nothing to

The Irish Church, as at present constituted and endowed, you are fully determined to uphold. On some future

occasion, I hope to be able to explain at large my views on that subject. Tonight I have exhausted my own

strength, and I have exhausted also, I am afraid, the kind indulgence of the House. I will therefore only advert

very briefly to some things which have been said about the Church in the course of the present debate.

Several gentlemen opposite have spoken of the religious discord which is the curse of Ireland in language

which does them honour; and I am only sorry that we are not to have their votes as well as their speeches. But

from the Treasury bench we have heard nothing but this, that the Established Church is there, and that there it

must and shall remain. As to the speech of the noble lord the Secretary for the Colonies, really when we hear

such a pitiable defence of a great institution from a man of such eminent abilities, what inference can we

draw but that the institution is altogether indefensible? The noble lord tells us that the Roman Catholics, in

1757, when they were asking to be relieved from the penal laws, and in 1792, when they were asking to be

relieved from civil disabilities, professed to be quite willing that the Established Church should retain its

endowments. What is it to us, Sir, whether they did or not? If you can prove this Church to be a good

institution, of course it ought to be maintained. But do you mean to say that a bad institution ought to be

maintained because some people who have been many years in their graves said that they did not complain of

it? What if the Roman Catholics of the present generation hold a different language on this subject from the

Roman Catholics of the last generation? Is this inconsistency, which appears to shock the noble lord,

anything but the natural and inevitable progress of all reform? People who are oppressed, and who have no

hope of obtaining entire justice, beg to be relieved from the most galling part of what they suffer. They assure

the oppressor that if he will only relax a little of his severity they shall be quite content; and perhaps, at the

time, they believe that they shall be content. But are expressions of this sort, are mere supplications uttered

under duress, to estop every person who utters them, and all his posterity to the end of time, from asking for

entire justice? Am I debarred from trying to recover property of which I have been robbed, because, when the

robber's pistol was at my breast, I begged him to take everything that I had and to spare my life? The noble

lord knows well that, while the slave trade existed, the great men who exerted themselves to put an end to

that trade disclaimed all thought of emancipating the negroes. In those days, Mr Pitt, Mr Fox, Lord Grenville,

Lord Grey, and even my dear and honoured friend of whom I can never speak without emotion, Mr

Wilberforce, always said that it was a calumny to accuse them of intending to liberate the black population of

the sugar islands. In 1807 the present Duke of Northumberland, then Lord Percy, in the generous enthusiasm

of youth, rose to propose in this House the abolition of slavery. Mr Wilberforce interposed, nay, I believe,

almost pulled Lord Percy down. Nevertheless in 1833 the noble lord the Secretary for the Colonies brought in

a bill to abolish slavery. Suppose that when he resumed his seat, after making that most eloquent speech in

which he explained his plan to us, some West Indian planter had risen, and had said that in 1792, in 1796, in

1807, all the leading philanthropists had solemnly declared that they had no intention of emancipating the

negroes; would not the noble lord have answered that nothing that had been said by anybody in 1792 or 1807

This is not the only point on which the noble lord's speech is quite at variance with his own conduct. He

appeals to the fifth article of the Treaty of Union. He says that, if we touch the revenues and privileges of the

Established Church, we shall violate that article; and to violate an article of the Treaty of Union is, it seems, a

breach of public faith of which he cannot bear to think. But, Sir, why is the fifth article to be held more sacred

than the fourth, which fixes the number of Irish members who are to sit in this House? The fourth article, we

all know, has been altered. And who brought in the bill which altered that article? The noble lord himself.

Then the noble lord adverts to the oath taken by Roman Catholic members of this House. They bind

themselves, he says, not to use their power for the purpose of injuring the Established Church. I am sorry that

the noble lord is not at this moment in the House. Had he been here I should have made some remarks which

I now refrain from making on one or two expressions which fell from him. But, Sir, let us allow to his

argument all the weight which he can himself claim for it. What does it prove? Not that the Established

Church of Ireland is a good institution; not that it ought to be maintained; but merely this, that, when we are

about to divide on the question whether it shall be maintained, the Roman Catholic members ought to walk

away to the library. The oath which they have taken is nothing to me and to the other Protestant members

who have not taken it. Suppose then our Roman Catholic friends withdrawn. Suppose that we, the six

hundred and twenty or thirty Protestant members remain in the House. Then there is an end of this argument

about the oath. Will the noble lord then be able to give us any reason for maintaining the Church of Ireland

I hope, Sir, that the right honourable Baronet the first Lord of the Treasury will not deal with this subject as

his colleagues have dealt with it. We have a right to expect that a man of his capacity, placed at the head of

government, will attempt to defend the Irish Church in a manly and rational way. I would beg him to consider

these questions:For what ends do Established Churches exist? Does the Established Church of Ireland

accomplish those ends or any one of those ends? Can an Established Church which has no hold on the hearts

of the body of the people be otherwise than useless, or worse than useless? Has the Established Church of

Ireland any hold on the hearts of the body of the people? Has it been successful in making proselytes? Has it

been what the Established Church of England has been with justice called, what the Established Church of

Scotland was once with at least equal justice called, the poor man's Church? Has it trained the great body of

the people to virtue, consoled them in affliction, commanded their reverence, attached them to itself and to

the State? Show that these questions can be answered in the affirmative; and you will have made, what I am

sure has never yet been made, a good defence of the Established Church of Ireland. But it is mere mockery to

bring us quotations from forgotten speeches, and from mouldy petitions presented to George the Second at a

And now, Sir, I must stop. I have said enough to justify the vote which I shall give in favour of the motion of

my noble friend. I have shown, unless I deceive myself, that the extraordinary disorders which now alarm us

in Ireland have been produced by the fatal policy of the Government. I have shown that the mode in which

the Government is now dealing with those disorders is far more likely to inflame than to allay them. While

this system lasts, Ireland can never be tranquil; and till Ireland is tranquil, England can never hold her proper

place among the nations of the world. To the dignity, to the strength, to the safety of this great country,

internal peace is indispensably necessary. In every negotiation, whether with France on the right of search, or

with America on the line of boundary, the fact that Ireland is discontented is uppermost in the minds of the

diplomatists on both sides, making the representative of the British Crown timorous, and making his

adversary bold. And no wonder. This is indeed a great and splendid empire, well provided with the means

both of annoyance and of defence. England can do many things which are beyond the power of any other

nation in the world. She has dictated peace to China. She rules Caffraria and Australasia. She could again

sweep from the ocean all commerce but her own. She could again blockade every port from the Baltic to the

Adriatic. She is able to guard her vast Indian dominions against all hostility by land or sea. But in this

gigantic body there is one vulnerable spot near to the heart. At that spot fortysix years ago a blow was

aimed which narrowly missed, and which, if it had not missed, might have been deadly. The government and

the legislature, each in its own sphere, is deeply responsible for the continuance of a state of things which is

fraught with danger to the State. From my share of that responsibility I shall clear myself by the vote which I

am about to give; and I trust that the number and the respectability of those in whose company I shall go into

the lobby will be such as to convince the Roman Catholics of Ireland that they need not yet relinquish all

An attempt having been made to deprive certain dissenting congregations of property which they had long

enjoyed, on the ground that they did not hold the same religious opinions that had been held by the

purchasers from whom they derived their title to that property, the Government of Sir Robert Peel brought in

a bill fixing a time of limitation in such cases. The time fixed was twentyfive years.

The bill, having passed the Lords, came down to the House of Commons. On the sixth of June 1844, the

second reading was moved by the Attorney General, Sir William Follett. Sir Robert Inglis, Member for the

University of Oxford, moved that the bill should be read a second time that day six months: and the

amendment was seconded by Mr Plumptre, Member for Kent. Early in the debate the following Speech was

If, Sir, I should unhappily fail in preserving that tone in which the question before us ought to be debated, it

will assuredly not be for want either of an example or of a warning. The honourable and learned Member

who moved the second reading has furnished me with a model which I cannot too closely imitate; and from

the honourable Member for Kent, if I can learn nothing else, I may at least learn what temper and what style I

I was very desirous, Sir, to catch your eye, not because I was so presumptuous as to hope that I should be able

to add much to the powerful and luminous argument of the honourable and learned gentleman who has, to our

great joy, again appeared among us to night; but because I thought it desirable that, at an early period in the

debate, some person whose seat is on this side of the House, some person strongly opposed to the policy of

the present Government, should say, what I now say with all my heart, that this is a bill highly honourable to

the Government, a bill framed on the soundest principles, and evidently introduced from the best and purest

motives. This praise is a tribute due to Her Majesty's Ministers; and I have great pleasure in paying it.

I have great pleasure also in bearing my testimony to the humanity, the moderation, and the decorum with

which my honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford has expressed his sentiments. I must

particularly applaud the resolution which he announced, and to which he strictly adhered, of treating this

question as a question of meum and tuum, and not as a question of orthodoxy and heterodoxy. With him it is

possible to reason. But how am I to reason with the honourable Member for Kent, who has made a speech

without one fact, one argument, one shadow of an argument, a speech made up of nothing but vituperation? I

grieve to say that the same bitterness of theological animosity which characterised that speech may be

discerned in too many of the petitions with which, as he boasts, our table has been heaped day after day. The

honourable Member complains that those petitions have not been treated with proper respect. Sir, they have

been treated with much more respect than they deserved. He asks why we are to suppose that the petitioners

are not competent to form a judgment on this question? My answer is, that they have certified their

incompetence under their own hands. They have, with scarcely one exception, treated this question as a

question of divinity, though it is purely a question of property: and when I see men treat a question of

property as if it were a question of divinity, I am certain that, however numerous they may be, their opinion is

entitled to no consideration. If the persons whom this bill is meant to relieve are orthodox, that is no reason

for our plundering anybody else in order to enrich them. If they are heretics, that is no reason for our

plundering them in order to enrich others. I should not think myself justified in supporting this bill, if I could

not with truth declare that, whatever sect had been in possession of these chapels, my conduct would have

been precisely the same. I have no peculiar sympathy with Unitarians. If these people, instead of being

Unitarians, had been Roman Catholics, or Wesleyan Methodists, or General Baptists, or Particular Baptists,

or members of the Old Secession Church of Scotland, or members of the Free Church of Scotland, I should

Sir, the whole dispute is about the second clause of this bill. I can hardly conceive that any gentleman will

vote against the bill on account of the error in the marginal note on the third clause. To the first clause my

honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford said, if I understood him rightly, that he had no

objection; and indeed a man of his integrity and benevolence could hardly say less after listening to the lucid

and powerful argument of the Attorney General. It is therefore on the second clause that the whole question

The second clause, Sir, rests on a principle simple, wellknown, and most important to the welfare of all

classes of the community. That principle is this, that prescription is a good title to property, that there ought

to be a time of limitation, after which a possessor, in whatever way his possession may have originated, must

not be dispossessed. Till very lately, Sir, I could not have imagined that, in any assembly of reasonable,

civilised, of educated men, it could be necessary for me to stand up in defence of that principle. I should have

thought it as much a waste of the public time to make a speech on such a subject as to make a speech against

burning witches, against trying writs of right by wager of battle, or against requiring a culprit to prove his

innocence by walking over redhot ploughshares. But I find that I was in error. Certain sages, lately

assembled in conclave at Exeter Hall, have done me the honour to communicate to me the fruits of their

profound meditations on the science of legislation. They have, it seems, passed a resolution declaring that the

principle, which I had supposed that no man out of Bedlam would ever question, is an untenable principle,

and altogether unworthy of a British Parliament. They have been pleased to add, that the present Government

cannot, without gross inconsistency, call on Parliament to pass a statute of limitation. And why? Will the

House believe it? Because the present Government has appointed two new Vice Chancellors.

Really, Sir, I do not know whether the opponents of this bill shine more as logicians or as jurists. Standing

here as the advocate of prescription, I ought not to forget that prescriptive right of talking nonsense which

gentlemen who stand on the platform of Exeter Hall are undoubtedly entitled to claim. But, though I

recognise the right, I cannot but think that it may be abused, and that it has been abused on the present

occasion. One thing at least is clear, that, if Exeter Hall be in the right, all the masters of political philosophy,

all the great legislators, all the systems of law by which men are and have been governed in all civilised

countries, from the earliest times, must be in the wrong. How indeed can any society prosper, or even exist,

without the aid of this untenable principle, this principle unworthy of a British legislature? This principle was

found in the Athenian law. This principle was found in the Roman law. This principle was found in the laws

of all those nations of which the jurisprudence was derived from Rome. This principle was found in the law

administered by the Parliament of Paris; and, when that Parliament and the law which it administered had

been swept away by the revolution, this principle reappeared in the Code Napoleon. Go westward, and you

find this principle recognised beyond the Mississippi. Go eastward, and you find it recognised beyond the

Indus, in countries which never heard the name of Justinian, in countries to which no translation of the

Pandects ever found its way. Look into our own laws, and you will see that the principle, which is now

designated as unworthy of Parliament, has guided Parliament ever since Parliament existed. Our first statute

of limitation was enacted at Merton, by men some of whom had borne a part in extorting the Great Charter

and the Forest Charter from King John. From that time to this it has been the study of a succession of great

lawyers and statesmen to make the limitation more and more stringent. The Crown and the Church indeed

were long exempted from the general rule. But experience fully proved that every such exemption was an

evil; and a remedy was at last applied. Sir George Savile, the model of English country gentlemen, was the

author of the Act which barred the claims of the Crown. That eminent magistrate, the late Lord Tenterden,

was the author of the Act which barred the claims of the Church. Now, Sir, how is it possible to believe that

the Barons, whose seals are upon our Great Charter, would have perfectly agreed with the great jurists who

framed the Code of Justinian, with the great jurists who framed the Code of Napoleon, with the most learned

English lawyers of the nineteenth century, and with the Pundits of Benares, unless there had been some

strong and clear reason which necessarily led men of sense in every age and country to the same conclusion?

Nor is it difficult to see what the reason was. For it is evident that the principle which silly and ignorant

fanatics have called untenable is essential to the institution of property, and that, if you take away that

principle, you will produce evils resembling those which would be produced by a general confiscation.

Imagine what would follow if the maxims of Exeter Hall were introduced into Westminster Hall. Imagine a

state of things in which one of us should be liable to be sued on a bill of exchange indorsed by his grandfather

in 1760. Imagine a man possessed of an estate and manor house which had descended to him through ten or

twelve generations of ancestors, and yet liable to be ejected because some flaw had been detected in a deed

executed three hundred years ago, in the reign of Henry the Eighth. Why, Sir, should we not all cry out that it

would be better to live under the rule of a Turkish Pasha than under such a system. Is it not plain that the

enforcing of an obsolete right is the inflicting of a wrong? Is it not plain that, but for our statutes of limitation,

a lawsuit would be merely a grave, methodical robbery? I am ashamed to argue a point so clear.

And if this be the general rule, why should the case which we are now considering be an exception to that

rule? I have done my best to understand why. I have read much bad oratory, and many foolish petitions. I

have heard with attention the reasons of my honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford; and

I should have heard the reasons of the honourable Member for Kent, if there had been any to hear. Every

argument by which my honourable friend the Member for the University of Oxford tried to convince us that

this case is an exception to the general rule, will be found on examination to be an argument against the

general rule itself. He says that the possession which we propose to sanction was originally a wrongful

possession. Why, Sir, all the statutes of limitation that ever were made sanction possession which was

originally wrongful. It is for the protection of possessors who are not in condition to prove that their

possession was originally rightful that statutes of limitation are passed. Then my honourable friend says that

this is an ex post facto law. Why, Sir, so are all our great statutes of limitation. Look at the Statute of Merton,

passed in 1235; at the Statute of Westminster, passed in 1275; at the Statute of James the First, passed in

1623; at Sir George Savile's Act, passed in the last century; at Lord Tenterden's Act, passed in our own time.

Every one of those Acts was retrospective. Every one of them barred claims arising out of past transactions.

Nor was any objection ever raised to what was so evidently just and wise, till bigotry and chicanery formed

that disgraceful league against which we are now contending. But, it is said, it is unreasonable to grant a boon

to men because they have been many years doing wrong. The length of the time during which they have

enjoyed property not rightfully their own, is an aggravation of the injury which they have committed, and is

so far from being a reason for letting them enjoy that property for ever, that it is rather a reason for

compelling them to make prompt restitution. With this childish sophistry the petitions on our table are filled.

Is it possible that any man can be so dull as not to perceive that, if this be a reason, it is a reason against all

our statutes of limitation? I do a greater wrong to my tailor if I withhold payment of his bill during six years

than if I withhold payment only during two years. Yet the law says that at the end of two years he may bring

an action and force me to pay him with interest, but that after the lapse of six years he cannot force me to pay

him at all. It is much harder that a family should be kept out of its hereditary estate during five generations

than during five days. But if you are kept out of your estate five days you have your action of ejectment; and,

after the lapse of five generations, you have no remedy. I say, therefore, with confidence, that every argument

which has been urged against this bill is an argument against the great principle of prescription. I go further,

and I say that, if there be any case which, in an especial manner, calls for the application of the principle of

prescription, this is that case. For the Unitarian congregations have laid out so much on these little spots of

ground that it is impossible to take the soil from them without taking from them property which is of much

greater value than the mere soil, and which is indisputably their own. This is not the case of a possessor who

has been during many years, receiving great emoluments from land to which he had not a good title. It is the

case of a possessor who has, from resources which were undoubtedly his own, expended on the land much

more than it was originally worth. Even in the former case, it has been the policy of all wise lawgivers to fix a

time of limitation. A fortiori, therefore, there ought to be a time of limitation in the latter case.

And here, Sir, I cannot help asking gentlemen to compare the petitions for this bill with the petitions against

it. Never was there such a contrast. The petitions against the bill are filled with cant, rant, scolding, scraps of

bad sermons. The petitions in favour of the bill set forth in the simplest manner great practical grievances.

Take, for instance, the case of Cirencester. The meeting house there was built in 1730. It is certain that the

Unitarian doctrines were taught there as early as 1742. That was only twelve years after the chapel had been

founded. Many of the original subscribers must have been living. Many of the present congregation are lineal

descendants of the original subscribers. Large sums have from time to time been laid out in repairing,

enlarging, and embellishing the edifice; and yet there are people who think it just and reasonable that this

congregation should, after the lapse of more than a century, be turned out. At Norwich, again, a great

dissenting meeting house was opened in 1688. It is not easy to say how soon Anti Trinitarian doctrines were

taught there. The change of sentiment in the congregation seems to have been gradual: but it is quite certain

that, in 1754, ninety years ago, both pastor and flock were decidedly Unitarian. Round the chapel is a

cemetery filled with the monuments of eminent Unitarians. Attached to the chapel are a schoolhouse and a

library, built and fitted up by Unitarians. And now the occupants find that their title is disputed. They cannot

venture to build; they cannot venture to repair; and they are anxiously awaiting our decision. I do not know

that I have cited the strongest cases. I am giving you the ordinary history of these edifices. Go to Manchester.

Unitarianism has been taught there at least seventy years in a chapel on which the Unitarians have expended

large sums. Go to Leeds. Four thousand pounds have been subscribed for the repairing of the Unitarian

chapel there, the chapel where, near eighty years ago, Priestly, the great Doctor of the sect, officiated. But

these four thousand pounds are lying idle. Not a pew can be repaired till it is known whether this bill will

become law. Go to Maidstone. There Unitarian doctrines have been taught during at least seventy years; and

seven hundred pounds have recently been laid out by the congregation in repairing the chapel. Go to Exeter.

It matters not where you go. But go to Exeter. There Unitarian doctrines have been preached more than

eighty years; and two thousand pounds have been laid out on the chapel. It is the same at Coventry, at Bath,

at Yarmouth, everywhere. And will a British Parliament rob the possessors of these buildings? I can use no

other word. How should we feel if it were proposed to deprive any other class of men of land held during so

long a time, and improved at so large a cost? And, if this property should be transferred to those who covet it,

what would they gain in comparison with what the present occupants would lose? The pulpit of Priestley, the

pulpit of Lardner, are objects of reverence to congregations which hold the tenets of Priestley and Lardner.

To the intruders those pulpits will be nothing; nay, worse than nothing; memorials of heresiarchs. Within

these chapels and all around them are the tablets which the pious affection of four generations has placed

over the remains of dear mothers and sisters, wives and daughters, of eloquent preachers, of learned

theological writers. To the Unitarian, the building which contains these memorials is a hallowed building. To

the intruder it is of no more value than any other room in which he can find a bench to sit on and a roof to

cover him. If, therefore, we throw out this bill, we do not merely rob one set of people in order to make a

present to another set. That would be bad enough. But we rob the Unitarians of that which they regard as a

most precious treasure; of that which is endeared to them by the strongest religious and the strongest

domestic associations; of that which cannot be wrenched from them without inflicting on them the bitterest

pain and humiliation. To the Trinitarians we give that which can to them be of little or no value except as a

But, Sir, an imputation of fraud has been thrown on the Unitarians; not, indeed, here, but in many other

places, and in one place of which I would always wish to speak with respect. The Unitarians, it has been said,

knew that the original founders of these chapels were Trinitarians; and to use, for the purpose of propagating

Unitarian doctrine, a building erected for the purpose of propagating Trinitarian doctrine was grossly

dishonest. One very eminent person (The Bishop of London.) has gone so far as to maintain that the

Unitarians cannot pretend to any prescription of more than sixtythree years; and he proves his point

thus:Till the year 1779, he says, no dissenting teacher was within the protection of the Toleration Act

unless he subscribed those articles of the Church of England which affirm the Athanasian doctrine. It is

evident that no honest Unitarian can subscribe those articles. The inference is, that the persons who preached

in these chapels down to the year 1779 must have been either Trinitarians or rogues. Now, Sir, I believe that

they were neither Trinitarians nor rogues; and I cannot help suspecting that the great prelate who brought this

charge against them is not so well read in the history of the nonconformist sects as in the history of that

Church of which he is an ornament. The truth is that, long before the year 1779, the clause of the Toleration

Act which required dissenting ministers to subscribe thirtyfive or thirtysix of our thirtynine articles had

almost become obsolete. Indeed, that clause had never been rigidly enforced. From the very first there were

some dissenting ministers who refused to subscribe, and yet continued to preach. Calany was one; and he was

not molested. And if this could be done in the year in which the Toleration Act passed, we may easily believe

that, at a later period, the law would not have been very strictly observed. New brooms, as the vulgar proverb

tells us, sweep clean; and no statute is so rigidly enforced as a statute just made. But, Sir, so long ago as the

year 1711, the provisions of the Toleration Act on this subject were modified. In that year the Whigs, in order

to humour Lord Nottingham, with whom they had coalesced against Lord Oxford, consented to let the

Occasional Conformity Bill pass; but they insisted on inserting in the bill a clause which was meant to

propitiate the dissenters. By this clause it was enacted that, if an information were laid against a dissenting

minister for having omitted to subscribe the articles, the defendant might, by subscribing at any stage of the

proceedings anterior to the judgment, defeat the information, and throw all the costs on the informer. The

House will easily believe that, when such was the state of the law, informers were not numerous. Indeed,

during the discussions of 1773, it was distinctly affirmed, both in Parliament and in manifestoes put forth by

the dissenting body, that the majority of nonconformist ministers then living had never subscribed. All

arguments, therefore, grounded on the insincerity which has been rashly imputed to the Unitarians of former

But, it is said, the persons who, in the reigns of James the Second, of William the Third, and of Anne, first

established these chapels, held the doctrine of the Trinity; and therefore, when, at a later period, the preachers

and congregations departed from the doctrine of the Trinity, they ought to have departed from the chapels

too. The honourable and learned gentleman, the Attorney General, has refuted this argument so ably that he

has scarcely left anything for me to say about it. It is wellknown that the change which, soon after the

Revolution, began to take place in the opinions of a section of the old Puritan body, was a gradual, an almost

imperceptible change. The principle of the English Presbyterians was to have no confession of faith and no

form of prayer. Their trust deeds contained no accurate theological definitions. Nonsubscription was in truth

the very bond which held them together. What, then, could be more natural than that, Sunday by Sunday, the

sermons should have become less and less like those of the old Calvinistic divines, that the doctrine of the

Trinity should have been less and less frequently mentioned, that at last it should have ceased to be

mentioned, and that thus, in the course of years, preachers and hearers should, by insensible degrees, have

become first Arians, then, perhaps, Socinians. I know that this explanation has been treated with disdain by

people profoundly ignorant of the history of English nonconformity. I see that my right honourable friend

near me (Mr Fox Maule.) does not assent to it. Will he permit me to refer him to an analogous case with

which he cannot but be well acquainted? No person in the House is more versed than he in the ecclesiastical

history of Scotland; and he will, I am sure, admit that some of the doctrines now professed by the Scotch

sects which sprang from the secessions of 1733 and 1760 are such as the seceders of 1733 and the seceders of

1760 would have regarded with horror. I have talked with some of the ablest, most learned, and most pious of

the Scotch dissenters of our time; and they all fully admitted that they held more than one opinion which their

predecessors would have considered as impious. Take the question of the connection between Church and

State. The seceders of 1733 thought that the connection ought to be much closer than it is. They blamed the

legislature for tolerating heresy. They maintained that the Solemn league and covenant was still binding on

the kingdom. They considered it as a national sin that the validity of the Solemn League and Covenant was

not recognised at the time of the Revolution. When George Whitfield went to Scotland, though they approved

of his Calvinistic opinions, and though they justly admired that natural eloquence which he possessed in so

wonderful a degree, they would hold no communion with him because he would not subscribe the Solemn

League and Covenant. Is that the doctrine of their successors? Are the Scotch dissenters now averse to

toleration? Are they not zealous for the voluntary system? Is it not their constant cry that it is not the business

of the civil magistrate to encourage any religion, false or true? Does any Bishop now abhor the Solemn

League and Covenant more than they? Here is an instance in which numerous congregations have, retaining

their identity, passed gradually from one opinion to another opinion. And would it be just, would it be decent

in me, to impute dishonesty to them on that account? My right honourable friend may be of opinion that the

question touching the connection between the Church and State is not a vital question. But was that the

opinion of the divines who drew up the Secession Testimony? He well knows that in their view a man who

denied that it was the duty of the government to defend religious truth with the civil sword was as much a

Again, Sir, take the case of the Wesleyan Methodists. They are zealous against this bill. They think it

monstrous that a chapel originally built for people holding one set of doctrines should be occupied by people

holding a different set of doctrines. I would advise them to consider whether they cannot find in the history of

their own body reasons for being a little more indulgent. What were the opinions of that great and good man,

their founder, on the question whether men not episcopally ordained could lawfully administer the Eucharist?

He told his followers that lay administration was a sin which he never could tolerate. Those were the very

words which he used; and I believe that, during his lifetime, the Eucharist never was administered by laymen

in any place of worship which was under his control. After his death, however, the feeling in favour of lay

administration became strong and general among his disciples. The Conference yielded to that feeling. The

consequence is that now, in every chapel which belonged to Wesley, those who glory in the name of

Wesleyans commit, every Sacrament Sunday, what Wesley declared to be a sin which he would never

tolerate. And yet these very persons are not ashamed to tell us in loud and angry tones that it is fraud,

downright fraud, in a congregation which has departed from its original doctrines to retain its original

endowments. I believe, Sir, that, if you refuse to pass this bill, the Courts of Law will soon have to decide

It has, I own, given me great pain to observe the unfair and acrimonious manner in which too many of the

Protestant nonconformists have opposed this bill. The opposition of the Established Church has been

comparatively mild and moderate; and yet from the Established Church we had less right to expect mildness

and moderation. It is certainly not right, but it is very natural, that a church, ancient and richly endowed,

closely connected with the Crown and the aristocracy, powerful in parliament, dominant in the universities,

should sometimes forget what is due to poorer and humbler Christian societies. But when I hear a cry for

what is nothing less than persecution set up by men who have been, over and over again within my own

memory, forced to invoke in their own defence the principles of toleration, I cannot but feel astonishment

mingled with indignation. And what above all excites both my astonishment and my indignation is this, that

the most noisy among the noisy opponents of the bill which we are considering are some sectaries who are at

this very moment calling on us to pass another bill of just the same kind for their own benefit. I speak of

those Irish Presbyterians who are asking for an ex post facto law to confirm their marriages. See how exact

the parallel is between the case of those marriages and the case of these chapels. The Irish Presbyterians have

gone on marrying according to their own forms during a long course of years. The Unitarians have gone on

occupying, improving, embellishing certain property during a long course of years. In neither case did any

doubt as to the right arise in the most honest, in the most scrupulous mind. At length, about the same time,

both the validity of the Presbyterian marriages and the validity of the title by which the Unitarians held their

chapels were disputed. The two questions came before the tribunals. The tribunals, with great reluctance, with

great pain, pronounced that, neither in the case of the marriages nor in the case of the chapels, can

prescription be set up against the letter of the law. In both cases there is a just claim to relief such as the

legislature alone can afford. In both the legislature is willing to grant that relief. But this will not satisfy the

orthodox Presbyterian. He demands with equal vehemence two things, that he shall be relieved, and that

nobody else shall be relieved. In the same breath he tells us that it would be most iniquitous not to pass a

retrospective law for his benefit, and that it would be most iniquitous to pass a retrospective law for the

benefit of his fellow sufferers. I never was more amused than by reading, the other day, a speech made by a

person of great note among the Irish Presbyterians on the subject of these marriages. "Is it to be endured," he

says, "that the mummies of old and forgotten laws are to be dug up and unswathed for the annoyance of

dissenters?" And yet a few hours later, this eloquent orator is himself hard at work in digging up and

unswathing another set of mummies for the annoyance of another set of dissenters. I should like to know how

he and such as he would look if we Churchmen were to assume the same tone towards them which they think

it becoming to assume towards the Unitarian body; if we were to say, "You and those whom you would

oppress are alike out of our pale. If they are heretics in your opinion, you are schismatics in ours. Since you

insist on the letter of the law against them, we will insist on the letter of the law against you. You object to ex

post facto statutes; and you shall have none. You think it reasonable that men should, in spite of a

prescription of eighty or ninety years, be turned out of a chapel built with their own money, and a cemetery

where their own kindred lie, because the original title was not strictly legal. We think it equally reasonable

that those contracts which you have imagined to be marriages, but which are now adjudged not to be legal

marriages, should be treated as nullities." I wish from my soul that some of these orthodox dissenters would

recollect that the doctrine which they defend with so much zeal against the Unitarians is not the whole sum

and substance of Christianity, and that there is a text about doing unto others as you would that they should

To any intelligent man who has no object except to do justice, the Trinitarian dissenter and the Unitarian

dissenter who are now asking us for relief will appear to have exactly the same right to it. There is, however,

I must own, one distinction between the two cases. The Trinitarian dissenters are a strong body, and

especially strong among the electors of towns. They are of great weight in the State. Some of us may

probably, by voting tonight against their wishes, endanger our seats in this House. The Unitarians, on the

other hand, are few in number. Their creed is unpopular. Their friendship is likely to injure a public man

more than their enmity. If therefore there be among us any person of a nature at once tyrannical and

cowardly, any person who delights in persecution, but is restrained by fear from persecuting powerful sects,

now is his time. He never can have a better opportunity of gratifying his malevolence without risk of

retribution. But, for my part, I long ago espoused the cause of religious liberty, not because that cause was

popular, but because it was just; and I am not disposed to abandon the principles to which I have been true

through my whole life in deference to a passing clamour. The day may come, and may come soon, when

those who are now loudest in raising that clamour may again be, as they have formerly been, suppliants for

justice. When that day comes I will try to prevent others from oppressing them, as I now try to prevent them

from oppressing others. In the meantime I shall contend against their intolerance with the same spirit with

On the twentysixth of February, 1845, on the question that the order of the day for going into Committee of

Ways and Means should be read, Lord John Russell moved the following amendment: "That it is the

opinion of this House that the plan proposed by Her Majesty's Government, in reference to the Sugar Duties,

professes to keep up a distinction between foreign free labour sugar and foreign slave labour sugar, which is

impracticable and illusory; and, without adequate benefit to the consumer, tends so greatly to impair the

revenue as to render the removal of the Income and Property Tax at the end of three years extremely

uncertain and improbable." The amendment was rejected by 236 votes to 142. In the debate the following

Sir, if the question now at issue were merely a financial or a commercial question, I should be unwilling to

offer myself to your notice: for I am well aware that there are, both on your right and on your left hand, many

gentlemen far more deeply versed in financial and commercial science than myself; and I should think that I

discharged my duty better by listening to them than by assuming the office of a teacher. But, Sir, the question

on which we are at issue with Her Majesty's Ministers is neither a financial nor a commercial question. I do

not understand it to be disputed that, if we were to pronounce our decision with reference merely to fiscal and

mercantile considerations, we should at once adopt the plan recommended by my noble friend. Indeed the

right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade (Mr Gladstone.), has distinctly admitted

this. He says that the Ministers of the Crown call upon us to sacrifice great pecuniary advantages and great

commercial facilities, for the purpose of maintaining a moral principle. Neither in any former debate nor in

the debate of this night has any person ventured to deny that, both as respects the public purse and as respects

the interests of trade, the course recommended by my noble friend is preferable to the course recommended

The objections to my noble friend's amendment, then, are purely moral objections. We lie, it seems, under a

moral obligation to make a distinction between the produce of free labour and the produce of slave labour.

Now I should be very unwilling to incur the imputation of being indifferent to moral obligations. I do,

however, think that it is in my power to show strong reasons for believing that the moral obligation pleaded

by the Ministers has no existence. If there be no such moral obligation, then, as it is conceded on the other

side that all fiscal and commercial arguments are on the side of my noble friend, it follows that we ought to

The right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade, has said that the Government does

not pretend to act with perfect consistency as to this distinction between free labour and slave labour. It was,

indeed, necessary that he should say this; for the policy of the Government is obviously most inconsistent.

Perfect consistency, I admit, we are not to expect in human affairs. But, surely, there is a decent consistency

which ought to be observed; and of this the right honourable gentleman himself seems to be sensible; for he

asks how, if we admit sugar grown by Brazilian slaves, we can with decency continue to stop Brazilian

vessels engaged in the slave trade. This argument, whatever be its value, proceeds on the very correct

supposition that the test of sincerity in individuals, in parties, and in governments, is consistency. The right

honourable gentleman feels, as we must all feel, that it is impossible to give credit for good faith to a man

who on one occasion pleads a scruple of conscience as an excuse for not doing a certain thing, and who on

other occasions, where there is no essential difference of circumstances, does that very thing without any

scruple at all. I do not wish to use such a word as hypocrisy, or to impute that odious vice to any gentleman

on either side of the House. But whoever declares one moment that he feels himself bound by a certain moral

rule, and the next moment, in a case strictly similar, acts in direct defiance of that rule, must submit to have,

if not his honesty, yet at least his power of discriminating right from wrong very gravely questioned.

Now, Sir, I deny the existence of the moral obligation pleaded by the Government. I deny that we are under

any moral obligation to turn our fiscal code into a penal code, for the purpose of correcting vices in the

institutions of independent states. I say that, if you suppose such a moral obligation to be in force, the

supposition leads to consequences from which every one of us would recoil, to consequences which would

throw the whole commercial and political system of the world into confusion. I say that, if such a moral

obligation exists, our financial legislation is one mass of injustice and inhumanity. And I say more especially

that, if such a moral obligation exists, the right honourable Baronet's Budget is one mass of injustice and

Observe, I am not disputing the paramount authority of moral obligation. I am not setting up pecuniary

considerations against moral considerations. I know that it would be not only a wicked but a shortsighted

policy, to aim at making a nation like this great and prosperous by violating the laws of justice. To those

laws, enjoin what they may, I am prepared to submit. But I will not palter with them: I will not cite them

today in order to serve one turn, and quibble them away tomorrow in order to serve another. I will not have

two standards of right; one to be applied when I wish to protect a favourite interest at the public cost; and

another to be applied when I wish to replenish the Exchequer, and to give an impulse to trade. I will not have

two weights or two measures. I will not blow hot and cold, play fast and loose, strain at a gnat and swallow a

camel. Can the Government say as much? Are gentlemen opposite prepared to act in conformity with their

own principle? They need not look long for opportunities. The Statute Book swarms with enactments directly

opposed to the rule which they profess to respect. I will take a single instance from our existing laws, and

propound it to the gentlemen opposite as a test, if I must not say of their sincerity, yet of their power of moral

discrimination. Take the article of tobacco. Not only do you admit the tobacco of the United States which is

grown by slaves; not only do you admit the tobacco of Cuba which is grown by slaves, and by slaves, as you

tell us, recently imported from Africa; but you actually interdict the free labourer of the United Kingdom

from growing tobacco. You have long had in your Statute Book laws prohibiting the cultivation of tobacco in

England, and authorising the Government to destroy all tobacco plantations except a few square yards, which

are suffered to exist unmolested in botanical gardens, for purposes of science. These laws did not extend to

Ireland. The free peasantry of Ireland began to grow tobacco. The cultivation spread fast. Down came your

legislation upon it; and now, if the Irish freeman dares to engage in competition with the slaves of Virginia

and Havannah, you exchequer him; you ruin him; you grub up his plantation. Here, then, we have a test by

which we may try the consistency of the gentlemen opposite. I ask you, are you prepared, I do not say to

exclude the slave grown tobacco, but to take away from slave grown tobacco the monopoly which you now

give to it, and to permit the free labourer of the United Kingdom to enter into competition on equal terms, on

any terms, with the negro who works under the lash? I am confident that the three right honourable gentleman

opposite, the First Lord of the Treasury, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and the late President of the Board

of Trade, will all with one voice answer "No." And why not? "Because," say they, "it will injure the revenue.

True it is," they will say, "that the tobacco imported from abroad is grown by slaves, and by slaves many of

whom have been recently carried across the Atlantic in defiance, not only of justice and humanity, but of law

and treaty. True it is that the cultivators of the United Kingdom are freemen. But then on the imported

tobacco we are able to raise at the Custom House a duty of six hundred per cent., sometimes indeed of twelve

hundred per cent.: and, if tobacco were grown here, it would be difficult to get an excise duty of even a

hundred per cent. We cannot submit to this loss of revenue; and therefore we must give a monopoly to the

slaveholder, and make it penal in the freeman to evade that monopoly." You may be right; but, in the name of

common sense, be consistent. If this moral obligation of which you talk so much be one which may with

propriety yield to fiscal considerations, let us have Brazilian sugars. If it be paramount to all fiscal

The present Ministers may indeed plead that they are not the authors of the laws which prohibit the

cultivation of tobacco in Great Britain and Ireland. That is true. The present Government found those laws in

existence: and no doubt there is good sense in the Conservative doctrine that many things which ought not to

have been set up ought not, when they have been set up, to be hastily and rudely pulled down. But what will

the right honourable Baronet urge in vindication of his own new budget? He is not content with maintaining

laws which he finds already existing in favour of produce grown by slaves. He introduces a crowd of new

laws to the same effect. He comes down to the House with a proposition for entirely taking away the duties

on the importation of raw cotton. He glories in this scheme. He tells us that it is in strict accordance with the

soundest principles of legislation. He tells us that it will be a blessing to the country. I agree with him, and I

intend to vote with him. But how is all this cotton grown? Is it not grown by slaves? Again I say, you may be

right; but, in the name of common sense, be consistent. I saw, with no small amusement, a few days ago, a

paragraph by one of the right honourable Baronet's eulogists, which was to the following effect:"Thus has

this eminent statesman given to the English labourer a large supply of a most important raw material, and has

manfully withstood those ravenous Whigs who wished to inundate our country with sugar dyed in negro

blood." With what I should like to know, is the right honourable Baronet's cotton dyed?

Formerly, indeed, an attempt was made to distinguish between the cultivation of cotton and the cultivation of

sugar. The cultivation of sugar, it was said, was peculiarly fatal to the health and life of the slave. But that

plea, whatever it may have been worth, must now be abandoned; for the right honourable Baronet now

proposes to reduce, to a very great extent, the duty on slave grown sugar imported from the United States.

Then a new distinction is set up. The United States, it is said, have slavery; but they have no slave trade. I

deny that assertion. I say that the sugar and cotton of the United States are the fruits, not only of slavery, but

of the slave trade. And I say further that, if there be on the surface of this earth a country which, before God

and man, is more accountable than any other for the misery and degradation of the African race, that country

is not Brazil, the produce of which the right honourable Baronet excludes, but the United States, the produce

of which he proposes to admit on more favourable terms than ever. I have no pleasure in going into an

argument of this nature. I do not conceive that it is the duty of a member of the English Parliament to discuss

abuses which exist in other societies. Such discussion seldom tends to produce any reform of such abuses,

and has a direct tendency to wound national pride, and to inflame national animosities. I would willingly

avoid this subject; but the right honourable Baronet leaves me no choice. He turns this House into a Court of

Judicature for the purpose of criticising and comparing the institutions of independent States. He tells us that

our Tariff is to be made an instrument for rewarding the justice and humanity of some Foreign Governments,

and for punishing the barbarity of others. He binds up the dearest interests of my constituents with questions

with which otherwise I should, as a Member of Parliament, have nothing to do. I would gladly keep silence

on such questions. But it cannot be. The tradesmen and the professional men whom I represent say to me,

"Why are we to be loaded, certainly for some years, probably for ever, with a tax, admitted by those who

impose it to be grievous, unequal, inquisitorial? Why are we to be loaded in time of peace with burdens

heretofore reserved for the exigencies of war?" The paper manufacturer, the soap manufacturer, say, "Why, if

the Income Tax is to be continued, are our important and suffering branches of industry to have no relief?"

And the answer is, "Because Brazil does not behave so well as the United States towards the negro race." Can

I then avoid instituting a comparison? Am I not bound to bring to the test the truth of an assertion pregnant

with consequences so momentous to those who have sent me hither? I must speak out; and, if what I say

gives offence and produces inconvenience, for that offence and for that inconvenience the Government is

I affirm, then, that there exists in the United States a slave trade, not less odious or demoralising, nay, I do in

my conscience believe, more odious and more demoralising than that which is carried on between Africa and

Brazil. North Carolina and Virginia are to Louisiana and Alabama what Congo is to Rio Janeiro. The slave

States of the Union are divided into two classes, the breeding States, where the human beasts of burden

increase and multiply and become strong for labour, and the sugar and cotton States to which those beasts of

burden are sent to be worked to death. To what an extent the traffic in man is carried on we may learn by

comparing the census of 1830 with the census of 1840. North Carolina and Virginia are, as I have said, great

breeding States. During the ten years from 1830 to 1840 the slave population of North Carolina was almost

stationary. The slave population of Virginia positively decreased. Yet, both in North Carolina and Virginia

propagation was, during those ten years, going on fast. The number of births among the slaves in those States

exceeded by hundreds of thousands the number of the deaths. What then became of the surplus? Look to the

returns from the Southern States, from the States whose produce the right honourable Baronet proposes to

admit with reduced duty or with no duty at all; and you will see. You will find that the increase in the

breeding States was barely sufficient to meet the demand of the consuming States. In Louisiana, for example,

where we know that the negro population is worn down by cruel toil, and would not, if left to itself, keep up

its numbers, there were, in 1830, one hundred and seven thousand slaves; in 1840, one hundred and seventy

thousand. In Alabama, the slave population during those ten years much more than doubled; it rose from one

hundred and seventeen thousand to two hundred and fiftythree thousand. In Mississippi it actually tripled. It

rose from sixtyfive thousand to one hundred and ninetyfive thousand. So much for the extent of this slave

trade. And as to its nature, ask any Englishman who has ever travelled in the Southern States. Jobbers go

about from plantation to plantation looking out for proprietors who are not easy in their circumstances, and

who are likely to sell cheap. A black boy is picked up here; a black girl there. The dearest ties of nature and

of marriage are torn asunder as rudely as they were ever torn asunder by any slave captain on the coast of

Guinea. A gang of three or four hundred negroes is made up; and then these wretches, handcuffed, fettered,

guarded by armed men, are driven southward, as you would drive,or rather as you would not drive,a

herd of oxen to Smithfield, that they may undergo the deadly labour of the sugar mill near the mouth of the

Mississippi. A very few years of that labour in that climate suffice to send the stoutest African to his grave.

But he can well be spared. While he is fast sinking into premature old age, negro boys in Virginia are

growing up as fast into vigorous manhood to supply the void which cruelty is making in Louisiana. God

forbid that I should extenuate the horrors of the slave trade in any form! But I do think this its worst form.

Bad enough is it that civilised men should sail to an uncivilised quarter of the world where slavery exists,

should there buy wretched barbarians, and should carry them away to labour in a distant land: bad enough!

But that a civilised man, a baptized man, a man proud of being a citizen of a free state, a man frequenting a

Christian church, should breed slaves for exportation, and, if the whole horrible truth must be told, should

even beget slaves for exportation, should see children, sometimes his own children, gambolling around him

from infancy, should watch their growth, should become familiar with their faces, and should then sell them

for four or five hundred dollars a head, and send them to lead in a remote country a life which is a lingering

death, a life about which the best thing that can be said is that it is sure to be short; this does, I own, excite a

horror exceeding even the horror excited by that slave trade which is the curse of the African coast. And

mark: I am not speaking of any rare case, of any instance of eccentric depravity. I am speaking of a trade as

regular as the trade in pigs between Dublin and Liverpool, or as the trade in coals between the Tyne and the

There is another point to which I must advert. I have no wish to apologise for slavery as it exists in Brazil;

but this I say, that slavery, as it exists in Brazil, though a fearful evil, seems to me a much less hopeless evil

than slavery as it exists in the United States. In estimating the character of negro slavery we must never forget

one most important ingredient; an ingredient which was wanting to slavery as it was known to the Greeks and

Romans; an ingredient which was wanting to slavery as it appeared in Europe during the middle ages; I mean

the antipathy of colour. Where this antipathy exists in a high degree, it is difficult to conceive how the white

masters and the black labourers can ever be mingled together, as the lords and villeins in many parts of the

Old World have been, in one free community. Now this antipathy is notoriously much stronger in the United

States than in the Brazils. In the Brazils the free people of colour are numerous. They are not excluded from

honourable callings. You may find among them merchants, physicians, lawyers: many of them bear arms;

some have been admitted to holy orders. Whoever knows what dignity, what sanctity, the Church of Rome

ascribes to the person of a priest, will at once perceive the important consequences which follow from this

last circumstance. It is by no means unusual to see a white penitent kneeling before the spiritual tribunal of a

negro, confessing his sins to a negro, receiving absolution from a negro. It is by no means unusual to see a

negro dispensing the Eucharist to a circle of whites. I need not tell the House what emotions of amazement

and of rage such a spectacle would excite in Georgia or South Carolina. Fully admitting, therefore, as I do,

that Brazilian slavery is a horrible evil, I yet must say that, if I were called upon to declare whether I think the

chances of the African race on the whole better in Brazil or in the United States, I should at once answer that

they are better in Brazil. I think it not improbable that in eighty or a hundred years the black population of

Brazil may be free and happy. I see no reasonable prospect of such a change in the United States.

The right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade, has said much about that system of

maritime police by which we have attempted to sweep slave trading vessels from the great highway of

nations. Now what has been the conduct of Brazil, and what has been the conduct of the United States, as

respects that system of police? Brazil has come into the system; the United States have thrown every

impediment in the way of the system. What opinion Her Majesty's Ministers entertain respecting the Right of

Search we know from a letter of my Lord Aberdeen which has, within a few days, been laid on our table. I

believe that I state correctly the sense of that letter when I say that the noble Earl regards the Right of Search

as an efficacious means, and as the only efficacious means, of preventing the maritime slave trade. He

expresses most serious doubts whether any substitute can be devised. I think that this check would be a most

valuable one, if all nations would submit to it; and I applaud the humanity which has induced successive

British administrations to exert themselves for the purpose of obtaining the concurrence of foreign Powers in

so excellent a plan. Brazil consented to admit the Right of Search; the United States refused, and by refusing

deprived the Right of Search of half its value. Not content with refusing to admit the Right of Search, they

even disputed the right of visit, a right which no impartial publicist in Europe will deny to be in strict

conformity with the Law of Nations. Nor was this all. In every part of the Continent of Europe the diplomatic

agents of the Cabinet of Washington have toiled to induce other nations to imitate the example of the United

States. You cannot have forgotten General Cass's letter. You cannot have forgotten the terms in which his

Government communicated to him its approbation of his conduct. You know as well as I do that, if the

United States had submitted to the Right of Search, there would have been no outcry against that right in

France. Nor do I much blame the French. It is but natural that, when one maritime Power makes it a point of

honour to refuse us this right, other maritime Powers should think that they cannot, without degradation, take

a different course. It is but natural that a Frenchman, proud of his country, should ask why the tricolor is to be

less respected then the stars and stripes. The right honourable gentleman says that, if we assent to my noble

friend's amendment, we shall no longer be able to maintain the Right of Search. Sir, he need not trouble

himself about that right. It is already gone. We have agreed to negotiate on the subject with France.

Everybody knows how that negotiation will end. The French flag will be exempted from search: Spain will

instantly demand, if she has not already demanded, similar exemption; and you may as well let her have it

with a good grace, and without wrangling. For a Right of Search, from which the flags of France and

America are exempted, is not worth a dispute. The only system, therefore, which, in the opinion of Her

Majesty's Ministers, has yet been found efficacious for the prevention of the maritime slave trade, is in fact

abandoned. And who is answerable for this? The United States of America. The chief guilt even of the slave

trade between Africa and Brazil lies, not with the Government of Brazil, but with that of the United States.

And yet the right honourable Baronet proposes to punish Brazil for the slave trade, and in the same breath

proposes to show favour to the United States, because the United States are pure from the crime of slave

trading. I thank the right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade, for reminding me of

Mr Calhoun's letter. I could not have wished for a better illustration of my argument. Let anybody who has

read that letter say what is the country which, if we take on ourselves to avenge the wrongs of Africa, ought

to be the first object of our indignation. The Government of the United States has placed itself on a bad

eminence to which Brazil never aspired, and which Brazil, even if aspiring to it, never could attain. The

Government of the United States has formally declared itself the patron, the champion of negro slavery all

over the world, the evil genius, the Arimanes of the African race, and seems to take pride in this shameful and

odious distinction. I well understand that an American statesman may say, "Slavery is a horrible evil; but we

were born to it, we see no way at present to rid ourselves of it: and we must endure it as we best may." Good

and enlightened men may hold such language; but such is not the language of the American Cabinet. That

Cabinet is actuated by a propagandist spirit, and labours to spread servitude and barbarism with an ardour

such as no other Government ever showed in the cause of freedom and civilisation. Nay more; the doctrine

held at Washington is that this holy cause sanctifies the most unholy means. These zealots of slavery think

themselves justified in snatching away provinces on the right hand and on the left, in defiance of public faith

and international law, from neighbouring countries which have free institutions, and this avowedly for the

purpose of diffusing over a wider space the greatest curse that afflicts humanity. They put themselves at the

head of the slavedriving interest throughout the world, just as Elizabeth put herself at the head of the

Protestant interest; and wherever their favourite institution is in danger, are ready to stand by it as Elizabeth

stood by the Dutch. This, then, I hold to be demonstrated, that of all societies now existing, the Republic of

the United States is by far the most culpable as respects slavery and the slave trade.

Now then I come to the right honourable Baronet's Budget. He tells us, that he will not admit Brazilian sugar,

because the Brazilian Government tolerates slavery and connives at the slave trade; and he tells us at the

same time, that he will admit the slave grown cotton and the slave grown sugar of the United States. I am

utterly at a loss to understand how he can vindicate his consistency. He tells us that if we adopt my noble

friend's proposition, we shall give a stimulus to the slave trade between Africa and Brazil. Be it so. But is it

not equally clear that, if we adopt the right honourable Baronet's own propositions, we shall give a stimulus

to the slave trade between Virginia and Louisiana? I have not the least doubt that, as soon as the contents of

his Budget are known on the other side of the Atlantic, the slave trade will become more active than it is at

this moment; that the jobbers in human flesh and blood will be more busy than ever; that the droves of

manacled negroes, moving southward to their doom, will be more numerous on every road. These will be the

fruits of the right honourable Baronet's measure. Yet he tells us that this part of his Budget is framed on

sound principles and will greatly benefit the country; and he tells us truth. I mean to vote with him; and I can

perfectly, on my own principles, reconcile to my conscience the vote which I shall give. How the right

honourable Baronet can reconcile the course which he takes to his conscience, I am at a loss to conceive, and

am not a little curious to know. No man is more capable than he of doing justice to any cause which he

undertakes; and it would be most presumptuous in me to anticipate the defence which he means to set up. But

I hope that the House will suffer me, as one who feels deeply on this subject, now to explain the reasons

which convince me that I ought to vote for the right honourable Baronet's propositions respecting the produce

of the United States. In explaining those reasons, I at the same time explain the reasons which induce me to

I say then, Sir, that I fully admit the paramount authority of moral obligations. But it is important that we

should accurately understand the nature and extent of those obligations. We are clearly bound to wrong no

man. Nay, more, we are bound to regard all men with benevolence. But to every individual, and to every

society, Providence has assigned a sphere within which benevolence ought to be peculiarly active; and if an

individual or a society neglects what lies within that sphere in order to attend to what lies without, the result

It is thus in private life. We should not be justified in injuring a stranger in order to benefit ourselves or those

who are dearest to us. Every stranger is entitled, by the laws of humanity, to claim from us certain reasonable

good offices. But it is not true that we are bound to exert ourselves to serve a mere stranger as we are bound

to exert ourselves to serve our own relations. A man would not be justified in subjecting his wife and children

to disagreeable privations, in order to save even from utter ruin some foreigner whom he never saw. And if a

man were so absurd and perverse as to starve his own family in order to relieve people with whom he had no

acquaintance, there can be little doubt that his crazy charity would produce much more misery than

It is the same with nations. No statesmen ought to injure other countries in order to benefit his own country.

No statesman ought to lose any fair opportunity of rendering to foreign nations such good offices as he can

render without a breach of the duty which he owes to the society of which he is a member. But, after all, our

country is our country, and has the first claim on our attention. There is nothing, I conceive, of narrow

mindedness in this patriotism. I do not say that we ought to prefer the happiness of one particular society to

the happiness of mankind; but I say that, by exerting ourselves to promote the happiness of the society with

which we are most nearly connected, and with which we are best acquainted, we shall do more to promote the

happiness of mankind than by busying ourselves about matters which we do not fully understand, and cannot

There are great evils connected with the factory system in this country. Some of those evils might, I am

inclined to think, be removed or mitigated by legislation. On that point many of my friends differ from me;

but we all agree in thinking that it is the duty of a British Legislator to consider the subject attentively, and

with a serious sense of responsibility. There are also great social evils in Russia. The peasants of that empire

are in a state of servitude. The sovereign of Russia is bound by the most solemn obligations to consider

whether he can do anything to improve the condition of that large portion of his subjects. If we watch over

our factory children, and he watches over his peasants, much good may be done. But would any good be done

if the Emperor of Russia and the British Parliament were to interchange functions; if he were to take under

his patronage the weavers of Lancashire, if we were to take under our patronage the peasants of the Volga; if

he were to say, "You shall send no cotton to Russia till you pass a ten Hours' Bill;" if we were to say, "You

On these principles, Sir, which seem to me to be the principles of plain common sense, I can, without

resorting to any casuistical subtilties, vindicate to my own conscience, and, I hope, to my country, the whole

course which I have pursued with respect to slavery. When I first came into Parliament, slavery still existed

in the British dominions. I had, as it was natural that I should have, a strong feeling on the subject. I exerted

myself, according to my station and to the measure of my abilities, on the side of the oppressed. I shrank from

no personal sacrifice in that cause. I do not mention this as matter of boast. It was no more than my duty. The

right honourable gentleman, the Secretary of State for the Home Department, knows that, in 1833, I

disapproved of one part of the measure which Lord Grey's Government proposed on the subject of slavery. I

was in office; and office was then as important to me as it could be to any man. I put my resignation into the

hands of Lord Spencer, and both spoke and voted against the Administration. To my surprise, Lord Grey and

Lord Spencer refused to accept my resignation, and I remained in office; but during some days I considered

myself as out of the service of the Crown. I at the same time heartily joined in laying a heavy burden on the

country for the purpose of compensating the planters. I acted thus, because, being a British Legislator, I

thought myself bound, at any cost to myself and to my constituents, to remove a foul stain from the British

laws, and to redress the wrongs endured by persons who, as British subjects, were placed under my

guardianship. But my especial obligations in respect of negro slavery ceased when slavery itself ceased in

that part of the world for the welfare of which I, as a member of this House, was accountable. As for the

blacks in the United States, I feel for them, God knows. But I am not their keeper. I do not stand in the same

relation to the slaves of Louisiana and Alabama in which I formerly stood to the slaves of Demerara and

Jamaica. I am bound, on the other hand, by the most solemn obligations, to promote the interests of millions

of my own countrymen, who are indeed by no means in a state so miserable and degraded as that of the

slaves in the United States, but who are toiling hard from sunrise to sunset in order to obtain a scanty

subsistence; who are often scarcely able to procure the necessaries of life; and whose lot would be alleviated

if I could open new markets to them, and free them from taxes which now press heavily on their industry. I

see clearly that, by excluding the produce of slave labour from our ports, I should inflict great evil on my

fellowsubjects and constituents. But the good which, by taking such a course, I should do to the negroes in

the United States seems to me very problematical. That by admitting slave grown cotton and slave grown

sugar we do, in some sense, encourage slavery and the Slave Trade, may be true. But I doubt whether, by

turning our fiscal code into a penal code for restraining the cruelty of the American planters, we should not,

on the whole, injure the negroes rather than benefit them. No independent nation will endure to be told by

another nation, "We are more virtuous than you; we have sate in judgment on your institutions; we find them

to be bad; and, as a punishment for your offences, we condemn you to pay higher duties at our Custom House

than we demand from the rest of the world." Such language naturally excites the resentment of foreigners. I

can make allowance for their susceptibility. For I myself sympathise with them, I know that Ireland has been

misgoverned; and I have done, and purpose to do, my best to redress her grievances. But when I take up a

New York journal, and read there the rants of President Tyler's son, I feel so much disgusted by such insolent

absurdity that I am for a moment inclined to deny that Ireland has any reason whatever to complain. It seems

to me that if ever slavery is peaceably extinguished in the United States, that great and happy change must be

brought about by the efforts of those enlightened and respectable American citizens who hate slavery as

much as we hate it. Now I cannot help fearing that, if the British Parliament were to proclaim itself the

protector and avenger of the American slave, the pride of those excellent persons would take the alarm. It

might become a point of national honour with them to stand by an institution which they have hitherto

regarded as a national disgrace. We should thus confer no benefit on the negro; and we should at the same

On these grounds, Sir, I can, with a clear conscience, vote for the right honourable Baronet's propositions

respecting the cotton and sugar of the United States. But on exactly the same grounds I can, with a clear

conscience, vote for the amendment of my noble friend. And I confess that I shall be much surprised if the

right honourable Baronet shall be able to point out any distinction between the cases.

I have detained you too long, Sir; yet there is one point to which I must refer; I mean the refining. Was such a

distinction ever heard of? Is there anything like it in all Pascal's Dialogues with the old Jesuit? Not for the

world are we to eat one ounce of Brazilian sugar. But we import the accursed thing; we bond it; we employ

our skill and machinery to render it more alluring to the eye and to the palate; we export it to Leghorn and

Hamburg; we send it to all the coffee houses of Italy and Germany: we pocket a profit on all this; and then we

put on a Pharisaical air, and thank God that we are not like those wicked Italians and Germans who have no

scruple about swallowing slave grown sugar. Surely this sophistry is worthy only of the worst class of false

witnesses. "I perjure myself! Not for the world. I only kissed my thumb; I did not put my lips to the

calfskin." I remember something very like the right honourable Baronet's morality in a Spanish novel which

I read long ago. I beg pardon of the House for detaining them with such a trifle; but the story is much to the

purpose. A wandering lad, a sort of Gil Blas, is taken into the service of a rich old silversmith, a most pious

man, who is always telling his beads, who hears mass daily, and observes the feasts and fasts of the church

with the utmost scrupulosity. The silversmith is always preaching honesty and piety. "Never," he constantly

repeats to his young assistant, "never touch what is not your own; never take liberties with sacred things."

Sacrilege, as uniting theft with profaneness, is the sin of which he has the deepest horror. One day, while he

is lecturing after his usual fashion, an illlooking fellow comes into the shop with a sack under his arm. "Will

you buy these?" says the visitor, and produces from the sack some church plate and a rich silver crucifix.

"Buy them!" cries the pious man. "No, nor touch them; not for the world. I know where you got them. Wretch

that you are, have you no care for your soul?" "Well then," says the thief, "if you will not buy them, will you

melt them down for me?" "Melt them down!" answers the silver smith, "that is quite another matter." He

takes the chalices and the crucifix with a pair of tongs; the silver, thus in bond, is dropped into the crucible,

melted, and delivered to the thief, who lays down five pistoles and decamps with his booty. The young

servant stares at this strange scene. But the master very gravely resumes his lecture. "My son," he says, "take

warning by that sacrilegious knave, and take example by me. Think what a load of guilt lies on his

conscience. You will see him hanged before long. But as to me, you saw that I would not touch the stolen

property. I keep these tongs for such occasions. And thus I thrive in the fear of God, and manage to turn an

honest penny." You talk of morality. What can be more immoral than to bring ridicule on the very name of

morality, by drawing distinctions where there are no differences? Is it not enough that this dishonest casuistry

has already poisoned our theology? Is it not enough that a set of quibbles has been devised, under cover of

which a divine may hold the worst doctrines of the Church of Rome, and may hold with them the best

benefice of the Church of England? Let us at least keep the debates of this House free from the sophistry of

And then the right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade, wonders that other nations

consider our abhorrence of slavery and the Slave Trade as sheer hypocrisy. Why, Sir, how should it be

otherwise? And, if the imputation annoys us, whom have we to thank for it? Numerous and malevolent as our

detractors are, none of them was ever so absurd as to charge us with hypocrisy because we took slave grown

tobacco and slave grown cotton, till the Government began to affect scruples about admitting slave grown

sugar. Of course, as soon as our Ministers ostentatiously announced to all the world that our fiscal system

was framed on a new and sublime moral principle, everybody began to inquire whether we consistently

adhered to that principle. It required much less acuteness and much less malevolence than that of our

neighbours to discover that this hatred of slave grown produce was mere grimace. They see that we not only

take tobacco produced by means of slavery and of the Slave Trade, but that we positively interdict freemen in

this country from growing tobacco. They see that we not only take cotton produced by means of slavery and

of the Slave Trade, but that we are about to exempt this cotton from all duty. They see that we are at this

moment reducing the duty on the slave grown sugar of Louisiana. How can we expect them to believe that it

is from a sense of justice and humanity that we lay a prohibitory duty on the sugar of Brazil? I care little for

the abuse which any foreign press or any foreign tribune may throw on the Machiavelian policy of perfidious

Albion. What gives me pain is, not that the charge of hypocrisy is made, but that I am unable to see how it is

Yet one word more. The right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade, has quoted the

opinions of two persons, highly distinguished by the exertions which they made for the abolition of slavery,

my lamented friend, Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, and Sir Stephen Lushington. It is most true that those

eminent persons did approve of the principle laid down by the right honourable Baronet opposite in 1841. I

think that they were in error; but in their error I am sure that they were sincere, and I firmly believe that they

would have been consistent. They would have objected, no doubt, to my noble friend's amendment; but they

would have objected equally to the right honourable Baronet's budget. It was not prudent, I think, in

gentlemen opposite to allude to those respectable names. The mention of those names irresistibly carries the

mind back to the days of the great struggle for negro freedom. And it is but natural that we should ask where,

during that struggle, were those who now profess such loathing for slave grown sugar? The three persons

who are chiefly responsible for the financial and commercial policy of the present Government I take to be

the right honourable Baronet at the head of the Treasury, the right honourable gentleman the Chancellor of

the Exchequer, and the right honourable gentleman the late President of the Board of Trade. Is there anything

in the past conduct of any one of the three which can lead me to believe that his sensibility to the evils of

slavery is greater than mine? I am sure that the right honourable Baronet the first Lord of the Treasury would

think that I was speaking ironically if I were to compliment him on his zeal for the liberty of the negro race.

Never once, during the whole of the long and obstinate conflict which ended in the abolition of slavery in our

colonies, did he give one word, one sign of encouragement to those who suffered and laboured for the good

cause. The whole weight of his great abilities and influence was in the other scale. I well remember that, so

late as 1833, he declared in this House that he could give his assent neither to the plan of immediate

emancipation proposed by my noble friend who now represents Sunderland (Lord Howick.), nor to the plan

of gradual emancipation proposed by Lord Grey's government. I well remember that he said, "I shall claim no

credit hereafter on account of this bill; all that I desire is to be absolved from the responsibility." As to the

other two right honourable gentlemen whom I have mentioned, they are West Indians; and their conduct was

that of West Indians. I do not wish to give them pain, or to throw any disgraceful imputation on them.

Personally I regard them with feelings of goodwill and respect. I do not question their sincerity; but I know

that the most honest men are but too prone to deceive themselves into the belief that the path towards which

they are impelled by their own interests and passions is the path of duty. I am conscious that this might be my

own case; and I believe it to be theirs. As the right honourable gentleman, the Chancellor of the Exchequer,

has left the House, I will only say that, with respect to the question of slavery, he acted after the fashion of the

class to which he belonged. But as the right honourable gentleman, the late President of the Board of Trade,

is in his place, he must allow me to bring to his recollection the part which he took in the debates of 1833. He

then said, "You raise a great clamour about the cultivation of sugar. You say that it is a species of industry

fatal to the health and life of the slave. I do not deny that there is some difference between the labour of a

sugar plantation and the labour of a cotton plantation, or a coffee plantation. But the difference is not so great

as you think. In marshy soils, the slaves who cultivate the sugar cane suffer severely. But in Barbadoes,

where the air is good, they thrive and multiply." He proceeded to say that, even at the worst, the labour of a

sugar plantation was not more unhealthy than some kinds of labour in which the manufacturers of England

are employed, and which nobody thinks of prohibiting. He particularly mentioned grinding. "See how

grinding destroys the health, the sight, the life. Yet there is no outcry against grinding." He went on to say

that the whole question ought to be left by Parliament to the West Indian Legislature. [Mr Gladstone: "Really

I never said so. You are not quoting me at all correctly."] What, not about the sugar cultivation and the

grinding? [Mr Gladstone: "That is correct; but I never recommended that the question should be left to the

West Indian Legislatures."] I have quoted correctly. But since my right honourable friend disclaims the

sentiment imputed to him by the reporters, I shall say no more about it. I have no doubt that he is quite right,

and that what he said was misunderstood. What is undisputed is amply sufficient for my purpose. I see that

the persons who now show so much zeal against slavery in foreign countries, are the same persons who

formerly countenanced slavery in the British Colonies. I remember a time when they maintained that we were

bound in justice to protect slave grown sugar against the competition of free grown sugar, and even of British

free grown sugar. I now hear them calling on us to protect free grown sugar against the competition of slave

grown sugar. I remember a time when they extenuated as much as they could the evils of the sugar

cultivation. I now hear them exaggerating those evils. But, devious as their course has been, there is one clue

by which I can easily track them through the whole maze. Inconstant in everything else, they are constant in

demanding protection for the West Indian planter. While he employs slaves, they do their best to apologise

for the evils of slavery. As soon as he is forced to employ freemen, they begin to cry up the blessings of

freedom. They go round the whole compass, and yet to one point they steadfastly adhere: and that point is the

interest of the West Indian proprietors. I have done, Sir; and I thank the House most sincerely for the patience

and indulgence with which I have been heard. I hope that I have at least vindicated my own consistency. How

Her Majesty's Ministers will vindicate their consistency, how they will show that their conduct has at all

times been guided by the same principles, or even that their conduct at the present time is guided by any fixed

On Saturday the eleventh of April, 1845, Sir Robert Peel moved the second reading of the Maynooth College

Bill. After a debate of six nights the motion was carried by 323 votes to 176. On the second night the

I do not mean, Sir, to follow the honourable gentleman who has just sate down into a discussion on an

amendment which is not now before us. When my honourable friend the Member for Sheffield shall think it

expedient to make a motion on that important subject to which he has repeatedly called the attention of the

House, I may, perhaps, ask to be heard. At present I shall content myself with explaining the reasons which

convince me that it is my duty to vote for the second reading of this bill; and I cannot, I think, better explain

those reasons than by passing in review, as rapidly as I can, the chief objections which have been made to the

The objectors, Sir, may be divided into three classes. The first class consists of those persons who object, not

to the principle of the grant to Maynooth College, but merely to the amount. The second class consists of

persons who object on principle to all grants made to a church which they regard as corrupt. The third class

consists of persons who object on principle to all grants made to churches, whether corrupt or pure.

Now, Sir, of those three classes the first is evidently that which takes the most untenable ground. How any

person can think that Maynooth College ought to be supported by public money, and yet can think this bill

too bad to be suffered to go into Committee, I do not well understand. I am forced however to believe that

there are many such persons. For I cannot but remember that the old annual vote attracted scarcely any

notice; and I see that this bill has produced violent excitement. I cannot but remember that the old annual vote

used to pass with very few dissentients; and I see that great numbers of gentlemen, who never were among

those dissentients, have crowded down to the House in order to divide against this bill. It is indeed certain

that a large proportion, I believe a majority, of those members who cannot, as they assure us, conscientiously

support the plan proposed by the right honourable Baronet at the head of the Government, would without the

smallest scruple have supported him if he had in this, as in former years, asked us to give nine thousand

pounds for twelve months. So it is: yet I cannot help wondering that it should be so. For how can any human

ingenuity turn a question between nine thousand pounds and twentysix thousand pounds, or between twelve

months and an indefinite number of months, into a question of principle? Observe: I am not now answering

those who maintain that nothing ought to be given out of the public purse to a corrupt church; nor am I now

answering those who maintain that nothing ought to be given out of the public purse to any church whatever.

They, I admit, oppose this bill on principle. I perfectly understand, though I do not myself hold, the opinion

of the zealous voluntary who says, "Whether the Roman Catholic Church teaches truth or error, she ought to

have no assistance from the State." I also perfectly understand, though I do not myself hold, the opinion of

the zealous Protestant who says, "The Roman Catholic Church teaches error, and therefore ought to have no

assistance from the State." But I cannot understand the reasoning of the man who says, "In spite of the errors

of the Roman Catholic Church, I think that she ought to have some assistance from the State; but I am bound

to mark my abhorrence of her errors by doling out to her a miserable pittance. Her tenets are so absurd and

noxious that I will pay the professor who teaches them wages less than I should offer to my groom. Her rites

are so superstitious that I will take care that they shall be performed in a chapel with a leaky roof and a dirty

floor. By all means let us keep her a college, provided only that it be a shabby one. Let us support those who

are intended to teach her doctrines and to administer her sacraments to the next generation, provided only that

every future priest shall cost us less than a foot soldier. Let us board her young theologians; but let their

larder be so scantily supplied that they may be compelled to break up before the regular vacation from mere

want of food. Let us lodge them; but let their lodging be one in which they may be packed like pigs in a stye,

and be punished for their heterodoxy by feeling the snow and the wind through the broken panes." Is it

possible to conceive anything more absurd or more disgraceful? Can anything be clearer than this, that

whatever it is lawful to do it is lawful to do well? If it be right that we should keep up this college at all, it

must be right that we should keep it up respectably. Our national dignity is concerned. For this institution,

whether good or bad, is, beyond all dispute, a very important institution. Its office is to form the character of

those who are to form the character of millions. Whether we ought to extend any patronage to such an

institution is a question about which wise and honest men may differ. But that, as we do extend our patronage

to such an institution, our patronage ought to be worthy of the object, and worthy of the greatness of our

country, is a proposition from which I am astonished to hear any person dissent.

It is, I must say, with a peculiarly bad grace that one of the members for the University to which I have the

honour to belong (The Honourable Charles Law, Member for the University of Cambridge.), a gentleman

who never thought himself bound to say a word or to give a vote against the grant of nine thousand pounds,

now vehemently opposes the grant of twentysix thousand pounds as exorbitant. When I consider how

munificently the colleges of Cambridge and Oxford are endowed, and with what pomp religion and learning

are there surrounded; when I call to mind the long streets of palaces, the towers and oriels, the venerable

cloisters, the trim gardens, the organs, the altar pieces, the solemn light of the stained windows, the libraries,

the museums, the galleries of painting and sculpture; when I call to mind also the physical comforts which are

provided both for instructors and for pupils; when I reflect that the very sizars and servitors are far better

lodged and fed than those students who are to be, a few years hence, the priests and bishops of the Irish

people; when I think of the spacious and stately mansions of the heads of houses, of the commodious

chambers of the fellows and scholars, of the refectories, the combination rooms, the bowling greens, the

stabling, of the state and luxury of the great feast days, of the piles of old plate on the tables, of the savoury

steam of the kitchens, of the multitudes of geese and capons which turn at once on the spits, of the oceans of

excellent ale in the butteries; and when I remember from whom all this splendour and plenty is derived; when

I remember what was the faith of Edward the Third and of Henry the Sixth, of Margaret of Anjou and

Margaret of Richmond, of William of Wykeham and William of Waynefleet, of Archbishop Chicheley and

Cardinal Wolsey; when I remember what we have taken from the Roman Catholics, King's College, New

College, Christ Church, my own Trinity; and when I look at the miserable Dotheboys Hall which we have

given them in exchange, I feel, I must own, less proud than I could wish of being a Protestant and a

Some gentlemen, it is true, have made an attempt to show that there is a distinction of principle between the

old grant which they have always supported and the larger grant which they are determined to oppose. But

never was attempt more unsuccessful. They say that, at the time of the Union, we entered into an implied

contract with Ireland to keep up this college. We are therefore, they argue, bound by public faith to continue

the old grant; but we are not bound to make any addition to that grant. Now, Sir, on this point, though on no

other, I do most cordially agree with those petitioners who have, on this occasion, covered your table with

such huge bales of spoiled paper and parchment. I deny the existence of any such contract. I think myself

perfectly free to vote for the abolition of this college, if I am satisfied that it is a pernicious institution; as free

as I am to vote against any item of the ordnance estimates; as free as I am to vote for a reduction of the

number of marines. It is strange, too, that those who appeal to this imaginary contract should not perceive

that, even if their fiction be admitted as true, it will by no means get them out of their difficulty. Tell us

plainly what are the precise terms of the contract which you suppose Great Britain to have made with Ireland

about this college. Whatever the terms be, they will not serve your purpose. Was the contract this, that the

Imperial Parliament would do for the college what the Irish Parliament had been used to do? Or was the

contract this, that the Imperial Parliament would keep the college in a respectable and efficient state? If the

former was the contract, nine thousand pounds would be too much. If the latter was the contract, you will not,

I have now, I think, said quite as much as need be said in answer to those who maintain that we ought to give

support to this college, but that the support ought to be niggardly and precarious. I now come to another and a

much more formidable class of objectors. Their objections may be simply stated thus. No man can justifiably,

either as an individual or as a trustee for the public, contribute to the dissemination of religious error. But the

church of Rome teaches religious error. Therefore we cannot justifiably contribute to the support of an

institution of which the object is the dissemination of the doctrines of the Church of Rome. Now, Sir, I deny

the major of this syllogism. I think that there are occasions on which we are bound to contribute to the

dissemination of doctrines with which errors are inseparably intermingled. Let me be clearly understood. The

question is not whether we should teach truth or teach error, but whether we should teach truth adulterated

with error, or teach no truth at all. The constitution of the human mind is such that it is impossible to provide

any machinery for the dissemination of truth which shall not, with the truth, disseminate some error. Even

those rays which come down to us from the great source of light, pure as they are in themselves, no sooner

enter that gross and dark atmosphere in which we dwell than the they are so much refracted, discoloured, and

obscured, that they too often lead us astray. It will be generally admitted that, if religious truth can be

anywhere found untainted by error, it is in the Scriptures. Yet is there actually on the face of the globe a

single copy of the Scriptures of which it can be said that it contains truth absolutely untainted with error? Is

there any manuscript, any edition of the Old or New Testament in the original tongues, which any scholar

will pronounce faultless? But to the vast majority of Christians the original tongues are and always must be

unintelligible. With the exception of perhaps one man in ten thousand, we must be content with translations.

And is there any translation in which there are not numerous mistakes? Are there not numerous mistakes even

in our own authorised version, executed as that version was with painful diligence and care, by very able

men, and under very splendid patronage? Of course mistakes must be still more numerous in those

translations which pious men have lately made into Bengalee, Hindostanee, Tamul, Canarese, and other

Oriental tongues. I admire the zeal, the industry, the energy of those who, in spite of difficulties which to

ordinary minds would seem insurmountable, accomplished that arduous work. I applaud those benevolent

societies which munificently encouraged that work. But I have been assured by good judges that the

translations have many faults. And how should it have been otherwise? How should an Englishman produce a

faultless translation from the Hebrew into the Cingalese? I say, therefore, that even the Scriptures, in every

form in which men actually possess them, contain a certain portion of error. And, if this be so, how can you

look for pure undefecated truth in any other composition? You contribute, without any scruple, to the printing

of religious tracts, to the establishing of Sunday Schools, to the sending forth of missionaries. But are your

tracts perfect? Are your schoolmasters infallible? Are your missionaries inspired? Look at the two churches

which are established in this island. Will you say that they both teach truth without any mixture of error? That

is impossible. For they teach different doctrines on more than one important subject. It is plain therefore, that

if, as you tell us, it be a sin in a state to patronise an institution which teaches religious error, either the

Church of England or the Church of Scotland ought to be abolished. But will anybody even venture to affirm

that either of those churches teaches truth without any mixture of error? Have there not long been in the

Church of Scotland two very different schools of theology? During many years, Dr Robertson, the head of the

moderate party, and Dr Erskine, the head of the Calvinistic party, preached under the same roof, one in the

morning, the other in the evening. They preached two different religions, so different that the followers of

Robertson thought the followers of Erskine fanatics, and the followers of Erskine thought the followers of

Robertson Arians or worse. And is there no mixture of error in the doctrine taught by the clergy of the Church

of England? Is not the whole country at this moment convulsed by disputes as to what the doctrine of the

Church on some important subjects really is? I shall not take on myself to say who is right and who is wrong.

But this I say with confidence, that, whether the Tractarians or the Evangelicals be in the right, many

hundreds of those divines who every Sunday occupy the pulpits of our parish churches must be very much in

Now, Sir, I see that many highly respectable persons, who think it a sin to contribute to the teaching of error

at Maynooth College, think it not merely lawful, but a sacred duty, to contribute to the teaching of error in the

other cases which I have mentioned. They know that our version of the Bible contains some error. Yet they

subscribe to the Bible Society. They know that the Serampore translations contain a still greater quantity of

error. Yet they give largely towards the printing and circulating of those translations. My honourable friend

the Member for the University of Oxford will not deny that there is among the clergy of the Church of

England a Puritan party, and also an Antipuritan party, and that one of these parties must teach some error.

Yet he is constantly urging us to grant to this Church an additional endowment of I know not how many

hundreds of thousands of pounds. He would doubtless defend himself by saying that nothing on earth is

perfect; that the purest religious society must consist of human beings, and must have those defects which

arise from human infirmities; and that the truths held by the established clergy, though not altogether

unalloyed with error, are so precious, that it is better that they should be imparted to the people with the alloy

than that they should not be imparted at all. Just so say I. I am sorry that we cannot teach pure truth to the

Irish people. But I think it better that they should have important and salutary truth, polluted by some error,

than that they should remain altogether uninstructed. I heartily wish that they were Protestants. But I had

rather that they should be Roman Catholics than that they should have no religion at all. Would you, says one

gentleman, teach the people to worship Jugernaut or Kalee? Certainly not. My argument leads to no such

conclusion. The worship of Jugernaut and Kalee is a curse to mankind. It is much better that people should be

without any religion than that they should believe in a religion which enjoins prostitution, suicide, robbery,

assassination. But will any Protestant deny that it is better that the Irish should be Roman Catholics than that

they should live and die like the beasts of the field, indulge their appetites without any religious restraint,

suffer want and calamity without any religious consolation, and go to their graves without any religious

hope? These considerations entirely satisfy my mind. Of course I would not propagate error for its own sake.

To do so would be not merely wicked, but diabolical. But, in order that I may be able to propagate truth, I

consent to propagate that portion of error which adheres to truth, and which cannot be separated from truth. I

wish Christianity to have a great influence on the peasantry of Ireland. I see no probability that Christianity

will have that influence except in one form. That form I consider as very corrupt. Nevertheless, the good

seems to me greatly to predominate over the evil; and therefore, being unable to get the good alone, I am

I now come to the third class of our opponents. I mean those who take their stand on the voluntary principle. I

will not, on this occasion, inquire whether they are right in thinking that governments ought not to contribute

to the support of any religion, true or false. For it seems to me that, even if I were to admit that the general

rule is correctly laid down by them, the present case would be an exception to that rule. The question on

which I am about to vote is not whether the State shall or shall not give any support to religion in Ireland. The

State does give such support, and will continue to give such support, whatever may be the issue of this

debate. The only point which we have now to decide is whether, while such support is given, it shall be given

exclusively to the religion of the minority. Here is an island with a population of near eight millions, and with

a wealthy established church, the members of which are little more than eight hundred thousand. There is an

archbishop with ten thousand a year. If I recollect rightly, seventy thousand pounds are divided among twelve

prelates. At the same time the Protestant dissenters in the north of Ireland receive, in another form, support

from the State. But the great majority of the population, the poorest part of the population, the part of the

population which is most in need of assistance, the part of the population which holds that faith for the

propagation of which the tithes were originally set apart, and the church lands originally given, is left to

maintain its own priests. Now is not this a case which stands quite by itself? And may not even those who

hold the general proposition, that every man ought to pay his own spiritual pastor, yet vote, without any

inconsistency, for this bill? I was astonished to hear the honourable Member for Shrewsbury (Mr Disraeli.)

tell us that, if we make this grant, it will be impossible for us to resist the claims of any dissenting sect. He

particularly mentioned the Wesleyan Methodists. Are the cases analogous? Is there the slightest resemblance

between them? Let the honourable gentleman show me that of the sixteen millions of people who inhabit

England thirteen millions are Wesleyan Methodists. Let him show me that the members of the Established

Church in England are only one tenth of the population. Let him show me that English dissenters who are not

Wesleyan Methodists receive a Regium Donum. Let him show me that immense estates bequeathed to John

Wesley for the propagation of Methodism have, by Act of Parliament, been taken from the Methodists and

given to the Church. If he can show me this, I promise him that, whenever the Wesleyan Methodists shall ask

for twentysix thousand pounds a year to educate their ministers, I shall be prepared to grant their request.

But neither the case of the Methodists nor any other case which can be mentioned, resembles the case with

which we have to do. Look round Europe, round the world, for a parallel; and you will look in vain. Indeed

the state of things which exists in Ireland never could have existed had not Ireland been closely connected

with a country, which possessed a great superiority of power, and which abused that superiority. The burden

which we are now, I hope, about to lay on ourselves is but a small penalty for a great injustice. Were I a

staunch voluntary, I should still feel that, while the church of eight hundred thousand people retains its great

endowments, I should not be justified in refusing this small boon to the church of eight millions.

To sum up shortly what I have said; it is clear to me in the first place that, if we have no religious scruple

about granting to this College nine thousand pounds for one year, we ought to have no religious scruple about

Secondly, it seems to me that those persons who tell us that we ought never in any circumstances to

contribute to the propagation of error do in fact lay down a rule which would altogether interdict the

Thirdly, it seems to me that, even on the hypothesis that the voluntary principle is the sound principle, the

present case is an excepted case, to which it would be unjust and unwise to apply that principle.

So much, Sir, as to this bill; and now let me add a few words about those by whom it has been framed and

introduced. We were exhorted, on the first night of this debate, to vote against the bill, without inquiring into

its merits, on the ground that, good or bad, it was proposed by men who could not honestly and honourably

propose it. A similar appeal has been made to us this evening. In these circumstances, Sir, I must, not I hope

from party spirit, not, I am sure, from personal animosity, but from a regard for the public interest, which

must be injuriously affected by everything which tends to lower the character of public men, say plainly what

I think of the conduct of Her Majesty's Ministers. Undoubtedly it is of the highest importance that we should

legislate well. But it is also of the highest importance that those who govern us should have, and should be

known to have, fixed principles, and should be guided by those principles both in office and in opposition. It

is of the highest importance that the world should not be under the impression that a statesman is a person

who, when he is out, will profess and promise anything in order to get in, and who, when he is in, will forget

all that he professed and promised when he was out. I need not, I suppose, waste time in proving that a law

may be in itself an exceedingly good law, and yet that it may be a law which, when viewed in connection

with the former conduct of those who proposed it, may prove them to be undeserving of the confidence of

their country. When this is the case, our course is clear. We ought to distinguish between the law and its

authors. The law we ought, on account of its intrinsic merits, to support. Of the authors of the law, it may be

In such terms I feel it to be my duty to speak of Her Majesty's present advisers. I have no personal hostility to

any of them; and that political hostility which I do not disavow has never prevented me from doing justice to

their abilities and virtues. I have always admitted, and I now most willingly admit, that the right honourable

Baronet at the head of the Government possesses many of the qualities of an excellent minister, eminent

talents for debate, eminent talents for business, great experience, great information, great skill in the

management of this House. I will go further, and say that I give him full credit for a sincere desire to promote

the welfare of his country. Nevertheless, it is impossible for me to deny that there is too much ground for the

reproaches of those who, having, in spite of a bitter experience, a second time trusted him, now find

themselves a second time deluded. I cannot but see that it has been too much his practice, when in opposition,

to make use of passions with which he has not the slightest sympathy, and of prejudices which he regards

with profound contempt. As soon as he is in power a change takes place. The instruments which have done

his work are flung aside. The ladder by which he has climbed is kicked down. I am forced to say that the right

honourable Baronet acts thus habitually and on system. The instance before us is not a solitary instance. I do

not wish to dwell on the events which took place seventeen or eighteen years ago, on the language which the

right honourable Baronet held about the Catholic question when he was out of power in 1827, and on the

change which twelve months of power produced. I will only say that one such change was quite enough for

one life. Again the right honourable Baronet was in opposition; and again he employed his old tactics. I will

not minutely relate the history of the manoeuvres by which the Whig Government was overthrown. It is

enough to say that many powerful interests were united against that Government under the leading of the

right honourable Baronet, and that of those interests there is not one which is not now disappointed and

complaining. To confine my remarks to the subject immediately before uscan any man deny that, of all the

many cries which were raised against the late administration, that which most strongly stirred the public mind

was the cry of No Popery? Is there a single gentleman in the House who doubts that, if, four years ago, my

noble friend the Member for the City of London had proposed this bill, he would have been withstood by

every member of the present Cabinet? Four years ago, Sir, we were discussing a very different bill. The party

which was then in opposition, and which is now in place, was attempting to force through Parliament a law,

which bore indeed a specious name, but of which the effect would have been to disfranchise the Roman

Catholic electors of Ireland by tens of thousands. It was in vain that we argued, that we protested, that we

asked for the delay of a single session, for delay till an inquiry could be made, for delay till a Committee

should report. We were told that the case was one of extreme urgency, that every hour was precious, that the

House must, without loss of time, be purged of the minions of Popery. These arts succeeded. A change of

administration took place. The right honourable Baronet came into power. He has now been near four years

in power. He has had a Parliament which would, beyond all doubt, have passed eagerly and gladly that

Registration Bill which he and his colleagues had pretended that they thought indispensable to the welfare of

the State. And where is that bill now? Flung away; condemned by its own authors; pronounced by them to be

so oppressive, so inconsistent with all the principles of representative government, that, though they had

vehemently supported it when they were on your left hand, they could not think of proposing it from the

Treasury Bench. And what substitute does the honourable Baronet give his followers to console them for the

loss of their favourite Registration Bill? Even this bill for the endowment of Maynooth College. Was such a

feat of legerdemain ever seen? And can we wonder that the eager, honest, hotheaded Protestants, who raised

you to power in the confident hope that you would curtail the privileges of the Roman Catholics, should stare

and grumble when you propose to give public money to the Roman Catholics? Can we wonder that, from one

end of the country to the other, everything should be ferment and uproar, that petitions should, night after

night, whiten all our benches like a snowstorm? Can we wonder that the people out of doors should be

exasperated by seeing the very men who, when we were in office, voted against the old grant to Maynooth,

now pushed and pulled into the House by your whippersin to vote for an increased grant? The natural

consequences follow. All those fierce spirits, whom you hallooed on to harass us, now turn round and begin

to worry you. The Orangeman raises his warwhoop: Exeter Hall sets up its bray: Mr Macneile shudders to

see more costly cheer than ever provided for the priests of Baal at the table of the Queen; and the Protestant

operatives of Dublin call for impeachments in exceedingly bad English. But what did you expect? Did you

think, when, to serve your turn, you called the Devil up, that it was as easy to lay him as to raise him? Did

you think, when you went on, session after session, thwarting and reviling those whom you knew to be in the

right, and flattering all the worst passions of those whom you knew to be in the wrong, that the day of

reckoning would never come? It has come. There you sit, doing penance for the disingenuousness of years. If

it be not so, stand up manfully and clear your fame before the House and the country. Show us that some

steady principle has guided your conduct with respect to Irish affairs. Show us how, if you are honest in

1845, you can have been honest in 1841. Explain to us why, after having goaded Ireland to madness for the

purpose of ingratiating yourselves with the English, you are now setting England on fire for the purpose of

ingratiating yourselves with the Irish. Give us some reason which shall prove that the policy which you are

following, as Ministers, is entitled to support, and which shall not equally prove you to have been the most

But, Sir, am I, because I think thus of the conduct of Her Majesty's Ministers, to take the counsel of the

honourable member for Shrewsbury and to vote against their bill? Not so. I know well that the fate of this bill

and the fate of the administration are in our hands. But far be it from us to imitate the arts by which we were

overthrown. The spectacle exhibited on the bench opposite will do quite mischief enough. That mischief will

not be lessened, but doubled, if there should be an answering display of inconsistency on this side of the

House. If this bill, having been introduced by Tories, shall be rejected by Whigs, both the great parties in the

State will be alike discredited. There will be one vast shipwreck of all the public character in the country.

Therefore, making up my mind to sacrifices which are not unattended with pain, and repressing some feelings

which stir strongly within me, I have determined to give my strenuous support to this bill. Yes, Sir, to this

bill, and to every bill which shall seem to me likely to promote the real Union of Great Britain and Ireland, I

will give my support, regardless of obloquy, regardless of the risk which I may run of losing my seat in

Parliament. For such obloquy I have learned to consider as true glory; and as to my seat I am determined that

it never shall be held by an ignominious tenure; and I am sure that it can never be lost in a more honourable

On the twentythird of April 1845, the order of the day for going into Committee on the Maynooth College

Bill was read. On the motion that the Speaker should leave the chair, Mr Ward, Member for Sheffield,

"That it is the opinion of this House that any provision to be made for the purposes of the present Bill ought

to be taken from the funds already applicable to ecclesiastical purposes in Ireland."

After a debate of two nights the amendment was rejected by 322 votes to 148. On the first night the following

I was desirous, Sir, to catch your eye this evening, because it happens that I have never yet found an

opportunity of fully explaining my views on the important subject of the Irish Church. Indeed, I was not in

this country when that subject for a time threw every other into the shade, disturbed the whole political world,

produced a schism in the Administration of Lord Grey, and overthrew the short Administration of the right

honourable Baronet opposite. The motion now before us opens, I conceive, the whole question. My

honourable friend the Member for Sheffield, indeed, asks us only to transfer twentysix thousand pounds a

year from the Established Church of Ireland to the College of Maynooth. But this motion, I think, resembles

an action of ejectment brought for a single farm, with the view of trying the title to a large estate. Whoever

refuses to assent to what is now proposed must be considered as holding the opinion that the property of the

Irish Church ought to be held inviolate: and I can scarcely think that any person will vote for what is now

proposed, who is not prepared to go very much farther. The point at issue, I take, therefore, to be this;

Now, Sir, when a legislator is called up to decide whether an institution shall be maintained or not, it seems

to me that he ought in the first place to examine whether it be a good or a bad institution. This may sound like

a truism; but if I am to judge by the speeches which, on this and former occasions, have been made by

gentlemen opposite, it is no truism, but an exceedingly recondite truth. I, Sir, think the Established Church of

Ireland a bad institution. I will go farther. I am not speaking in anger, or with any wish to excite anger in

others; I am not speaking with rhetorical exaggeration: I am calmly and deliberately expressing, in the only

appropriate terms, an opinion which I formed many years ago, which all my observations and reflections

have confirmed, and which I am prepared to support by reasons, when I say that, of all the institutions now

existing in the civilised world, the Established Church of Ireland seems to me the most absurd.

I cannot help thinking that the speeches of those who defend this Church suffice of themselves to prove that

my views are just. For who ever heard anybody defend it on its merits? Has any gentleman tonight defended

it on its merits? We are told of the Roman Catholic oath; as if that oath, whatever be its meaning, whatever be

the extent of the obligation which it lays on the consciences of those who take it, could possibly prove this

Church to be a good thing. We are told that Roman Catholics of note, both laymen and divines, fifty years

ago, declared that, if they were relieved from the disabilities under which they then lay, they should willingly

see the Church of Ireland in possession of all its endowments: as if anything that anybody said fifty years ago

could absolve us from the plain duty of doing what is now best for the country. We are told of the Fifth

Article of Union; as if the Fifth Article of Union were more sacred than the Fourth. Surely, if there be any

article of the Union which ought to be regarded as inviolable, it is the Fourth, which settles the number of

members whom Great Britain and Ireland respectively are to send to Parliament. Yet the provisions of the

Fourth Article have been altered with the almost unanimous assent of all parties in the State. The change was

proposed by the noble lord who is now Secretary for the Colonies. It was supported by the right honourable

Baronet the Secretary for the Home Department, and by other members of the present Administration. And so

far were the opponents of the Reform Bill from objecting to this infraction of the Treaty of Union that they

were disposed to go still farther. I well remember the night on which we debated the question, whether

Members should be given to Finsbury, Marylebone, Lambeth, and the Tower Hamlets. On that occasion, the

Tories attempted to seduce the Irish Reformers from us by promising that Ireland should have a share of the

plunder of the metropolitan districts. After this, Sir, I must think it childish in gentlemen opposite to appeal to

the Fifth Article of the Union. With still greater surprise, did I hear the right honourable gentleman the

Secretary for Ireland say that, if we adopt this amendment, we shall make all landed and funded property

insecure. I am really ashamed to answer such an argument. Nobody proposes to touch any vested interest; and

surely it cannot be necessary for me to point out to the right honourable gentleman the distinction between

property in which some person has a vested interest, and property in which no person has a vested interest.

That distinction is part of the very rudiments of political science. Then the right honourable gentleman

quarrels with the form of the amendment. Why, Sir, perhaps a more convenient form might have been

adopted. But is it by cavils like these that a great institution should be defended? And who ever heard the

Established Church of Ireland defended except by cavils like these? Who ever heard any of her advocates

speak a manly and statesmanlike language? Who ever heard any of her advocates say, "I defend this

institution because it is a good institution: the ends for which an Established Church exists are such and such:

and I will show you that this Church attains those ends?" Nobody says this. Nobody has the hardihood to say

it. What divine, what political speculator who has written in defence of ecclesiastical establishments, ever

defended such establishments on grounds which will support the Church of Ireland? What panegyric has ever

been pronounced on the Churches of England and Scotland, which is not a satire on the Church of Ireland?

What traveller comes among us who is not moved to wonder and derision by the Church of Ireland? What

foreign writer on British affairs, whether European or American, whether Protestant or Catholic, whether

Conservative or Liberal, whether partial to England or prejudiced against England, ever mentions the Church

of Ireland without expressing his amazement that such an establishment should exist among reasonable men?

And those who speak thus of this Church speak justly. Is there anything else like it? Was there ever anything

else like it? The world is full of ecclesiastical establishments: but such a portent as this Church of Ireland is

nowhere to be found. Look round the Continent of Europe. Ecclesiastical establishments from the White Sea

to the Mediterranean: ecclesiastical establishments from the Wolga to the Atlantic: but nowhere the Church

of a small minority enjoying exclusive establishment. Look at America. There you have all forms of

Christianity, from Mormonism, if you call Mormonism Christianity, to Romanism. In some places you have

the voluntary system. In some you have several religions connected with the state. In some you have the

solitary ascendency of a single Church. But nowhere, from the Arctic Circle to Cape Horn, do you find the

Church of a small minority exclusively established. Look round our own empire. We have an Established

Church in England; it is the Church of the majority. There is an Established Church in Scotland. When it was

set up, it was the Church of the majority. A few months ago, it was the Church of the majority. I am not quite

sure that, even after the late unhappy disruption, it is the Church of the minority. In our colonies the State

does much for the support of religion; but in no colony, I believe, do we give exclusive support to the religion

of the minority. Nay, even in those parts of empire where the great body of the population is attached to

absurd and immoral superstitions, you have not been guilty of the folly and injustice of calling on them to pay

for a Church which they do not want. We have not portioned out Bengal and the Carnatic into parishes, and

scattered Christian rectors, with stipends and glebes, among millions of Pagans and Mahometans. We keep,

indeed, a small Christian establishment, or rather three small Christian establishments, Anglican,

Presbyterian, and Catholic. But we keep them only for the Christians in our civil and military services; and

we leave untouched the revenues of the mosques and temples. In one country alone is to be seen the spectacle

of a community of eight millions of human beings, with a Church which is the Church of only eight hundred

It has been often said, and has been repeated tonight by the honourable Member for Radnor, that this

Church, though it includes only a tenth part of the population, has more than half the wealth of Ireland. But is

that an argument in favour of the present system? Is it not the strongest argument that can be urged in favour

of an entire change? It is true that there are many cases in which it is fit that property should prevail over

number. Those cases may, I think, be all arranged in two classes. One class consists of those cases in which

the preservation or improvement of property is the object in view. Thus, in a railway company, nothing can

be more reasonable than that one proprietor who holds five hundred shares should have more power than five

proprietors who hold one share each. The other class of cases in which property may justly confer privileges

is where superior intelligence is required. Property is indeed but a very imperfect test of intelligence. But,

when we are legislating on a large scale, it is perhaps the best which we can apply. For where there is no

property, there can very seldom be any mental cultivation. It is on this principle that special jurors, who have

to try causes of peculiar nicety, are taken from a wealthier order than that which furnishes common jurors.

But there cannot be a more false analogy than to reason from these cases to the case of an Established

Church. So far is it from being true that, in establishing a Church, we ought to pay more regard to one rich

man than to five poor men, that the direct reverse is the sound rule. We ought to pay more regard to one poor

man than to five rich men. For, in the first place, the public ordinances of religion are of far more importance

to the poor man than to the rich man. I do not mean to say that a rich man may not be the better for hearing

sermons and joining in public prayers. But these things are not indispensable to him; and, if he is so situated

that he cannot have them, he may find substitutes. He has money to buy books, time to study them,

understanding to comprehend them. Every day he may commune with the minds of Hooker, Leighton, and

Barrow. He therefore stands less in need of the oral instruction of a divine than a peasant who cannot read, or

who, if he can read, has no money to procure books, or leisure to peruse them. Such a peasant, unless

instructed by word of mouth, can know no more of Christianity than a wild Hottentot. Nor is this all. The

poor man not only needs the help of a minister of religion more than the rich man, but is also less able to

procure it. If there were no Established Church, people in our rank of life would always be provided with

preachers to their mind at an expense which they would scarcely feel. But when a poor man, who can hardly

give his children their fill of potatoes, has to sell his pig in order to pay something to his priest, the burden is

a heavy one. This is, in fact, the strongest reason for having an established church in any country. It is the one

reason which prevents me from joining with the partisans of the voluntary system. I should think their

arguments unanswerable if the question regarded the upper and middle classes only. If I would keep up the

Established Church of England, it is not for the sake of lords, and baronets, and country gentlemen of five

thousand pounds ayear, and rich bankers in the city. I know that such people will always have churches,

aye, and cathedrals, and organs, and rich communion plate. The person about whom I am uneasy is the

working man; the man who would find it difficult to pay even five shillings or ten shillings ayear out of his

small earnings for the ministrations of religion. What is to become of him under the voluntary system? Is he

to go without religious instruction altogether? That we should all think a great evil to himself, and a great evil

to society. Is he to pay for it out of his slender means? That would be a heavy tax. Is he to be dependent on

the liberality of others? That is a somewhat precarious and a somewhat humiliating dependence. I prefer, I

own, that system under which there is, in the rudest and most secluded district, a house of God, where public

worship is performed after a fashion acceptable to the great majority of the community, and where the

poorest may partake of the ordinances of religion, not as an alms, but as a right. But does this argument apply

to a Church like the Church of Ireland? It is not necessary on this occasion to decide whether the arguments

in favour of the ecclesiastical establishments, or the arguments in favour of the voluntary system, be the

stronger. There are weighty considerations on both sides. Balancing them as well as I can, I think that, as

respects England, the preponderance is on the side of the Establishment. But, as respects Ireland, there is no

balancing. All the weights are in one scale. All the arguments which incline us against the Church of

England, and all the arguments which incline us in favour of the Church of England, are alike arguments

against the Church of Ireland; against the Church of the few; against the Church of the wealthy; against the

Church which, reversing every principle on which a Christian Church should be founded, fills the rich with

One view which has repeatedly, both in this House and out of it, been taken of the Church of Ireland, seems

to deserve notice. It is admitted, as indeed it could not well be denied, that this Church does not perform the

functions which are everywhere else expected from similar institutions; that it does not instruct the body of

the people; that it does not administer religious consolation to the body of the people. But, it is said, we must

regard this Church as an aggressive Church, a proselytising Church, a Church militant among spiritual

enemies. Its office is to spread Protestantism over Munster and Connaught. I remember well that, eleven

years ago, when Lord Grey's Government proposed to reduce the number of Irish bishoprics, this language

was held. It was acknowledged that there were more bishops than the number of persons then in communion

with the Established Church required. But that number, we were assured, would not be stationary; and the

hierarchy, therefore, ought to be constituted with a view to the millions of converts who would soon require

the care of Protestant pastors. I well remember the strong expression which was then used by my honourable

friend, the Member for the University of Oxford. We must, he said, make allowance for the expansive force

of Protestantism. A few nights ago a noble lord for whom I, in common with the whole House, feel the

greatest respect, the Member for Dorsetshire (Lord Ashley.), spoke of the missionary character of the Church

of Ireland. Now, Sir, if such language had been held at the Council Board of Queen Elizabeth when the

constitution of this Church was first debated there, there would have been no cause for wonder. Sir William

Cecil or Sir Nicholas Bacon might very naturally have said, "There are few Protestants now in Ireland, it is

true. But when we consider how rapidly the Protestant theology has spread, when we remember that it is little

more than forty years since Martin Luther began to preach against indulgences, and when we see that one half

of Europe is now emancipated from the old superstition, we may reasonably expect that the Irish will soon

follow the example of the other nations which have embraced the doctrines of the Reformation." Cecil, I say,

and his colleagues might naturally entertain this expectation, and might without absurdity make preparations

for an event which they regarded as in the highest degree probable. But we, who have seen this system in full

operation from the year 1560 to the year 1845, ought to have been taught better, unless indeed we are past all

teaching. Two hundred and eightyfive years has this Church been at work. What could have been done for it

in the way of authority, privileges, endowments, which has not been done? Did any other set of bishops and

priests in the world ever receive so much for doing so little? Nay, did any other set of bishops and priests in

the world ever receive half as much for doing twice as much? And what have we to show for all this lavish

expenditure? What but the most zealous Roman Catholic population on the face of the earth? Where you

were one hundred years ago, where you were two hundred years ago, there you are still, not victorious over

the domain of the old faith, but painfully and with dubious success defending your own frontier, your own

English pale. Sometimes a deserter leaves you. Sometimes a deserter steals over to you. Whether your gains

or losses of this sort be the greater I do not know; nor is it worth while to inquire. On the great solid mass of

the Roman Catholic population you have made no impression whatever. There they are, as they were ages

ago, ten to one against the members of your Established Church. Explain this to me. I speak to you, the

zealous Protestants on the other side of the House. Explain this to me on Protestant principles. If I were a

Roman Catholic, I could easily account for the phenomena. If I were a Roman Catholic, I should content

myself with saying that the mighty hand and the outstretched arm had been put forth, according to the

promise, in defence of the unchangeable Church; that He who in the old time turned into blessings the curses

of Balaam, and smote the host of Sennacherib, had signally confounded the arts of heretic statesmen. But

what is a Protestant to say? He holds that, through the whole of this long conflict, during which ten

generations of men have been born and have died, reason and Scripture have been on the side of the

Established Clergy. Tell us then what we are to say of this strange war, in which, reason and Scripture backed

by wealth, by dignity, by the help of the civil power, have been found no match for oppressed and destitute

error? The fuller our conviction that our doctrines are right, the fuller, if we are rational men, must be our

conviction that our tactics have been wrong, and that we have been encumbering the cause which we meant

Observe, it is not only the comparative number of Roman Catholics and Protestants that may justly furnish us

with matter for serious reflection. The quality as well as the quantity of Irish Romanism deserves to be

considered. Is there any other country inhabited by a mixed population of Catholics and Protestants, any other

country in which Protestant doctrines have long been freely promulgated from the press and from the pulpit,

where the Roman Catholics spirit is so strong as in Ireland? I believe not. The Belgians are generally

considered as very stubborn and zealous Roman Catholics. But I do not believe that either in stubbornness or

in zeal they equal the Irish. And this is the fruit of three centuries of Protestant archbishops, bishops,

archdeacons, deans, and rectors. And yet where is the wonder? Is this a miracle that we should stand aghast at

it? Not at all. It is a result which human prudence ought to have long ago foreseen and long ago averted. It is

the natural succession of effect to cause. If you do not understand it, it is because you do not understand what

the nature and operation of a church is. There are parts of the machinery of Government which may be just as

efficient when they are hated as when they are loved. An army, a navy, a preventive service, a police force,

may do their work whether the public feeling be with them or against them. Whether we dislike the corn laws

or not, your custom houses and your coast guard keep out foreign corn. The multitude at Manchester was not

the less effectually dispersed by the yeomanry, because the interference of the yeomanry excited the bitterest

indignation. There the object was to produce a material effect; the material means were sufficient; and

nothing more was required. But a Church exists for moral ends. A Church exists to be loved, to be

reverenced, to be heard with docility, to reign in the understandings and hearts of men. A Church which is

abhorred is useless or worse than useless; and to quarter a hostile Church on a conquered people, as you

would quarter a soldiery, is therefore the most absurd of mistakes. This mistake our ancestors committed.

They posted a Church in Ireland just as they posted garrisons in Ireland. The garrisons did their work. They

were disliked. But that mattered not. They had their forts and their arms; and they kept down the aboriginal

race. But the Church did not do its work. For to that work the love and confidence of the people were

I may remark in passing that, even under more favourable circumstances a parochial priesthood is not a good

engine for the purpose of making proselytes. The Church of Rome, whatever we may think of her ends, has

shown no want of sagacity in the choice of means; and she knows this well. When she makes a great

aggressive movement,and many such movements she has made with signal success,she employs, not

her parochial clergy, but a very different machinery. The business of her parish priests is to defend and

govern what has been won. It is by the religious orders, and especially by the Jesuits, that the great

acquisitions have been made. In Ireland your parochial clergy lay under two great disadvantages. They were

endowed, and they were hated; so richly endowed that few among them cared to turn missionaries; so bitterly

hated that those few had but little success. They long contented themselves with receiving the emoluments

arising from their benefices, and neglected those means to which, in other parts of Europe, Protestantism had

owed its victory. It is well known that of all the instruments employed by the Reformers of Germany, of

England, and of Scotland, for the purpose of moving the public mind, the most powerful was the Bible

translated into the vernacular tongues. In Ireland the Protestant Church had been established near half a

century before the New Testament was printed in Erse. The whole Bible was not printed in Erse till this

Church had existed more than one hundred and twenty years. Nor did the publication at last take place under

the patronage of the lazy and wealthy hierarchy. The expense was defrayed by a layman, the illustrious

Robert Boyle. So things went on century after century. Swift, more than a hundred years ago, described the

prelates of his country as men gorged with wealth and sunk in indolence, whose chief business was to bow

and job at the Castle. The only spiritual function, he says, which they performed was ordination; and, when

he saw what persons they ordained, he doubted whether it would not be better that they should neglect that

function as they neglected every other. Those, Sir, are now living who can well remember how the revenues

of the richest see in Ireland were squandered on the shores of the Mediterranean by a bishop, whose epistles,

very different compositions from the epistles of Saint Peter and Saint John, may be found in the

correspondence of Lady Hamilton. Such abuses as these called forth no complaint, no reprimand. And all this

time the true pastors of the people, meanly fed and meanly clothed, frowned upon by the law, exposed to the

insults of every petty squire who gloried in the name of Protestant, were to be found in miserable cabins,

amidst filth, and famine, and contagion, instructing the young, consoling the miserable, holding up the

crucifix before the eyes of the dying. Is it strange that, in such circumstances, the Roman Catholic religion

should have been constantly becoming dearer and dearer to an ardent and sensitive people, and that your

Established Church should have been constantly sinking lower and lower in their estimation? I do not of

course hold the living clergy of the Irish Church answerable for the faults of their predecessors. God forbid!

To do so would be the most flagitious injustice. I know that a salutary change has taken place. I have no

reason to doubt that in learning and regularity of life the Protestant clergy of Ireland are on a level with the

clergy of England. But in the way of making proselytes they do as little as those who preceded them. An

enmity of three hundred years separates the nation from those who should be its teachers. In short, it is plain

that the mind of Ireland has taken its ply, and is not to be bent in a different direction, or, at all events, is not

Well, then, this Church is inefficient as a missionary Church. But there is yet another end which, in the

opinion of some eminent men, a Church is meant to serve. That end has been often in the minds of practical

politicians. But the first speculative politician who distinctly pointed it out was Mr Hume. Mr Hume, as

might have been expected from his known opinions, treated the question merely as it related to the temporal

happiness of mankind; and, perhaps, it may be doubted whether he took quite a just view of the manner in

which even the temporal happiness of mankind is affected by the restraints and consolations of religion. He

reasoned thus:It is dangerous to the peace of society that the public mind should be violently excited on

religious subjects. If you adopt the voluntary system, the public mind will always be so excited. For every

preacher, knowing that his bread depends on his popularity, seasons his doctrine high, and practises every art

for the purpose of obtaining an ascendency over his hearers. But when the Government pays the minister of

religion, he has no pressing motive to inflame the zeal of his congregation. He will probably go through his

duties in a somewhat perfunctory manner. His power will not be very formidable; and, such as it is, it will be

employed in support of that order of things under which he finds himself so comfortable. Now, Sir, it is not

necessary to inquire whether Mr Hume's doctrine be sound or unsound. For, sound or unsound, it furnishes no

ground on which you can rest the defence of the institution which we are now considering. It is evident that

by establishing in Ireland the Church of the minority in connection with the State, you have produced, in the

very highest degree, all those evils which Mr Hume considered as inseparable from the voluntary system.

You may go all over the world without finding another country where religious differences take a form so

dangerous to the peace of society; where the common people are so much under the influence of their priests;

or where the priests who teach the common people are so completely estranged from the civil Government.

And now, Sir, I will sum up what I have said. For what end does the Church of Ireland exist? Is that end the

instruction and solace of the great body of the people? You must admit that the Church of Ireland has not

attained that end. Is the end which you have in view the conversion of the great body of the people from the

Roman Catholic religion to a purer form of Christianity? You must admit that the Church of Ireland has not

attained that end. Or do you propose to yourselves the end contemplated by Mr Hume, the peace and security

of civil society? You must admit that the Church of Ireland has not attained that end. In the name of common

sense, then, tell us what good end this Church has attained; or suffer us to conclude, as I am forced to

It does not, I know, necessarily follow that, because an institution is bad, it is therefore to be immediately

destroyed. Sometimes a bad institution takes a strong hold on the hearts of mankind, intertwines its roots with

the very foundations of society, and is not to be removed without serious peril to order, law, and property. For

example, I hold polygamy to be one of the most pernicious practises that exist in the world. But if the

Legislative Council of India were to pass an Act prohibiting polygamy, I should think that they were out of

their senses. Such a measure would bring down the vast fabric of our Indian Empire with one crash. But is

there any similar reason for dealing tenderly with the Established Church of Ireland? That Church, Sir, is not

one of those bad institutions which ought to be spared because they are popular, and because their fall would

injure good institutions. It is, on the contrary, so odious, and its vicinage so much endangers valuable parts of

our polity, that, even if it were in itself a good institution, there would be strong reasons for giving it up.

The honourable gentleman who spoke last told us that we cannot touch this Church without endangering the

Legislative Union. Sir, I have given my best attention to this important point; and I have arrived at a very

different conclusion. The question to be determined is this:What is the best way of preserving political

union between countries in which different religions prevail? With respect to this question we have, I think,

all the light which history can give us. There is no sort of experiment described by Lord Bacon which we

have not tried. Inductive philosophy is of no value if we cannot trust to the lessons derived from the

experience of more than two hundred years. England has long been closely connected with two countries less

powerful than herself, and differing from herself in religion. The Scottish people are Presbyterians; the Irish

people are Roman Catholics. We determined to force the Anglican system on both countries. In both

countries great discontent was the result. At length Scotland rebelled. Then Ireland rebelled. The Scotch and

Irish rebellions, taking place at a time when the public mind of England was greatly and justly excited,

produced the Great Rebellion here, and the downfall of the Monarchy, of the Church, and of the Aristocracy.

After the Restoration we again tried the old system. During twentyeight years we persisted in the attempt to

force Prelacy on the Scotch; and the consequence was, during those twentyeight years Scotland exhibited a

frightful spectacle of misery and depravity. The history of that period is made up of oppression and

resistance, of insurrections, barbarous punishments, and assassinations. One day a crowd of zealous rustics

stand desperately on their defence, and repel the dragoons. Next day the dragoons scatter and hew down the

flying peasantry. One day the kneebones of a wretched Covenanter are beaten flat in that accursed boot. Next

day the Lord Primate is dragged out of his carriage by a band of raving fanatics, and, while screaming for

mercy, is butchered at the feet of his own daughter. So things went on, till at last we remembered that

institutions are made for men, and not men for institutions. A wise Government desisted from the vain

attempt to maintain an Episcopal Establishment in a Presbyterian nation. From that moment the connection

between England and Scotland became every year closer and closer. There were still, it is true, many causes

of animosity. There was an old antipathy between the nations, the effect of many blows given and received

on both sides. All the greatest calamities that had befallen Scotland had been inflicted by England. The

proudest events in Scottish history were victories obtained over England. Yet all angry feelings died rapidly

away. The union of the nations became complete. The oldest man living does not remember to have heard

any demagogue breathe a wish for separation. Do you believe that this would have happened if England had,

after the Revolution, persisted in attempting to force the surplice and the Prayer Book on the Scotch? I tell

you that, if you had adhered to the mad scheme of having a religious union with Scotland, you never would

have had a cordial political union with her. At this very day you would have had monster meetings on the

north of the Tweed, and another Conciliation Hall, and another repeal button, with the motto, "Nemo me

impune lacessit." In fact, England never would have become the great power that she is. For Scotland would

have been, not an addition to the effective strength of the Empire, but a deduction from it. As often as there

was a war with France or Spain, there would have been an insurrection in Scotland. Our country would have

sunk into a kingdom of the second class. One such Church as that about which we are now debating is a

serious encumbrance to the greatest empire. Two such Churches no empire could bear. You continued to

govern Ireland during many generations as you had governed Scotland in the days of Lauderdale and Dundee.

And see the result. Ireland has remained, indeed, a part of your Empire. But you know her to be a source of

weakness rather than of strength. Her misery is a reproach to you. Her discontent doubles the dangers of war.

Can you, with such facts before you, doubt about the course which you ought to take? Imagine a physician

with two patients, both afflicted with the same disease. He applies the same sharp remedies to both. Both

become worse and worse with the same inflammatory symptoms. Then he changes his treatment of one case,

and gives soothing medicines. The sufferer revives, grows better day by day, and is at length restored to

perfect health. The other patient is still subjected to the old treatment, and becomes constantly more and more

disordered. How would a physician act in such a case? And are not the principles of experimental philosophy

Therefore, Sir, I am fully prepared to take strong measures with regard to the Established Church of Ireland.

It is not necessary for me to say precisely how far I would go. I am aware that it may be necessary, in this as

in other cases, to consent to a compromise. But the more complete the reform which may be proposed,

provided always that vested rights be, as I am sure they will be, held strictly sacred, the more cordially shall I

That some reform is at hand I cannot doubt. In a very short time we shall see the evils which I have described

mitigated, if not entirely removed. A Liberal Administration would make this concession to Ireland from a

sense of justice. A Conservative Administration will make it from a sense of danger. The right honourable

Baronet has given the Irish a lesson which will bear fruit. It is a lesson which rulers ought to be slow to teach;

for it is one which nations are but too apt to learn. We have repeatedly been told by actswe are now told

almost in express wordsthat agitation and intimidation are the means which ought to be employed by those

who wish for redress of grievances from the party now in power. Such indeed has too long been the policy of

England towards Ireland; but it was surely never before avowed with such indiscreet frankness. Every epoch

which is remembered with pleasure on the other side of St George's Channel coincides with some epoch

which we here consider as disastrous and perilous. To the American war and the volunteers the Irish

Parliament owed its independence. To the French revolutionary war the Irish Roman Catholics owed the

elective franchise. It was in vain that all the great orators and statesmen of two generations exerted

themselves to remove the Roman Catholic disabilities, Burke, Fox, Pitt, Windham, Grenville, Grey, Plunkett,

Wellesley, Grattan, Canning, Wilberforce. Argument and expostulation were fruitless. At length pressure of a

stronger kind was boldly and skilfully applied; and soon all difficulties gave way. The Catholic Association,

the Clare election, the dread of civil war, produced the Emancipation Act. Again, the cry of No Popery was

raised. That cry was successful. A faction which had reviled in the bitterest terms the mild administration of

Whig Viceroys, and which was pledged to the wholesale disfranchisement of the Roman Catholics, rose to

power. One leading member of that faction had drawn forth loud cheers by declaiming against the minions of

Popery. Another had designated six millions of Irish Catholics as aliens. A third had publicly declared his

conviction, that a time was at hand when all Protestants of every persuasion would find it necessary to

combine firmly against the encroachments of Romanism. From such men we expected nothing but

oppression and intolerance. We are agreeably disappointed to find that a series of conciliatory bills is brought

before us. But, in the midst of our delight, we cannot refrain from asking for some explanation of so

extraordinary a change. We are told in reply, that the monster meetings of 1843 were very formidable, and

that our relations with America are in a very unsatisfactory state. The public opinion of Ireland is to be

consulted, the religion of Ireland is to be treated with respect, not because equity and humanity plainly enjoin

that course; for equity and humanity enjoined that course as plainly when you were calumniating Lord

Normanby, and hurrying forward your Registration Bill; but because Mr O'Connell and Mr Polk have

between them made you very uneasy. Sir, it is with shame, with sorrow, and, I will add, with dismay, that I

listen to such language. I have hitherto disapproved of the monster meetings of 1843. I have disapproved of

the way in which Mr O'Connell and some other Irish representatives have seceded from this House. I should

not have chosen to apply to those gentlemen the precise words which were used on a former occasion by the

honourable and learned Member for Bath. But I agreed with him in substance. I thought it highly to the

honour of my right honourable friend the Member for Dungarvon, and of my honourable friends the

Members for Kildare, for Roscommon, and for the city of Waterford, that they had the moral courage to

attend the service of this House, and to give us the very valuable assistance which they are, in various ways,

so well qualified to afford. But what am I to say now? How can I any longer deny that the place where an

Irish gentleman may best serve his country is Conciliation Hall? How can I expect that any Irish Roman

Catholic can be very sorry to learn that our foreign relations are in an alarming state, or can rejoice to hear

that all danger of war has blown over? I appeal to the Conservative Members of this House. I ask them

whither we are hastening? I ask them what is to be the end of a policy of which it is the principle to give

nothing to justice, and everything to fear? We have been accused of truckling to Irish agitators. But I defy

you to show us that we ever made or are now making to Ireland a single concession which was not in strict

conformity with our known principles. You may therefore trust us, when we tell you that there is a point

where we will stop. Our language to the Irish is this:"You ask for emancipation: it was agreeable to our

principles that you should have it; and we assisted you to obtain it. You wished for a municipal system, as

popular as that which exists in England: we thought your wish reasonable, and did all in our power to gratify

it. This grant to Maynooth is, in our opinion, proper; and we will do our best to obtain it for you, though it

should cost us our popularity and our seats in Parliament. The Established Church in your island, as now

constituted, is a grievance of which you justly complain. We will strive to redress that grievance. The Repeal

of the Union we regard as fatal to the empire: and we never will consent to it; never, though the country

should be surrounded by dangers as great as those which threatened her when her American colonies, and

France, and Spain, and Holland, were leagued against her, and when the armed neutrality of the Baltic

disputed her maritime rights; never, though another Bonaparte should pitch his camp in sight of Dover

Castle; never, till all has been staked and lost; never, till the four quarters of the world have been convulsed

by the last struggle of the great English people for their place among the nations." This, Sir, is the true policy.

When you give, give frankly. When you withhold, withhold resolutely. Then what you give is received with

gratitude; and, as for what you withhold, men, seeing that to wrest it from you is no safe or easy enterprise,

cease to hope for it, and, in time, cease to wish for it. But there is a way of so withholding as merely to excite

desire, and of so giving as merely to excite contempt; and that way the present ministry has discovered. Is it

possible for me to doubt that in a few months the same machinery which sixteen years ago extorted from the

men now in power the Emancipation Act, and which has now extorted from them the bill before us, will

again be put in motion? Who shall say what will be the next sacrifice? For my own part I firmly believe that,

if the present Ministers remain in power five years longer, and if we should have,which God avert!a war

with France or America, the Established Church of Ireland will be given up. The right honourable Baronet

will come down to make a proposition conceived in the very spirit of the Motions which have repeatedly

been made by my honourable friend the Member for Sheffield. He will again be deserted by his followers; he

will again be dragged through his difficulties by his opponents. Some honest Lord of the Treasury may

determine to quit his office rather than belie all the professions of a life. But there will be little difficulty in

finding a successor ready to change all his opinions at twelve hours' notice. I may perhaps, while cordially

supporting the bill, again venture to say something about consistency, and about the importance of

maintaining a high standard of political morality. The right honourable Baronet will again tell me, that he is

anxious only for the success of his measure, and that he does not choose to reply to taunts. And the right

honourable gentleman the Chancellor of the Exchequer will produce Hansard, will read to the House my

speech of this night, and will most logically argue that I ought not to reproach the Ministers with their

inconsistency, seeing that I had, from my knowledge of their temper and principles, predicted to a tittle the

Sir, I have thought it my duty to brand with strong terms of reprehension the practice of conceding, in time of

public danger, what is obstinately withheld in time of public tranquillity. I am prepared, and have long been

prepared, to grant much, very much, to Ireland. But if the Repeal Association were to dissolve itself

tomorrow, and if the next steamer were to bring news that all our differences with the United States were

adjusted in the most honourable and friendly manner, I would grant to Ireland neither more nor less than I

would grant if we were on the eve of a rebellion like that of 1798; if war were raging all along the Canadian

frontier; and if thirty French sail of the line were confronting our fleet in St George's Channel. I give my vote

from my heart and soul for the amendment of my honourable friend. He calls on us to make to Ireland a

concession, which ought in justice to have been made long ago, and which may be made with grace and

dignity even now. I well know that you will refuse to make it now. I know as well that you will make it

hereafter. You will make it as every concession to Ireland has been made. You will make it when its effect

will be, not to appease, but to stimulate agitation. You will make it when it will be regarded, not as a great act

of national justice, but as a confession of national weakness. You will make it in such a way, and at such a

time, that there will be but too much reason to doubt whether more mischief has been done by your long

On the first of May, 1845, Mr Rutherford, Member for Leith, obtained leave to bring in a bill to regulate

admission to the Secular Chairs in the Universities of Scotland. On the morning of the sixth of May the bill

was read a first time, and remained two months on the table of the House. At length the second reading was

fixed for the ninth of July. Mr Rutherfurd was unable to attend on that day: and it was necessary that one of

his friends should supply his place. Accordingly, as soon as the Order of the Day had been read, the

On a division the bill was rejected by 116 votes to 108. But, in the state in which parties then were, this

Mr Speaker,I have been requested by my honourable and learned friend, the Member for Leith, to act as

his substitute on this occasion. I am truly sorry that any substitute should be necessary. I am truly sorry that

he is not among us to take charge of the bill which he not long ago introduced with one of the most forcible

and luminous speeches that I ever had the pleasure of hearing. His audience was small; but the few who

formed that audience cannot have forgotten the effect which his arguments and his eloquence produced. The

Ministers had come down to resist his motion: but their courage failed them: they hesitated: they conferred

together: at last they consented that he should have leave to bring in his bill. Such, indeed, was the language

which they held on that and on a subsequent occasion, that both my honourable and learned friend and myself

gave them more credit than they deserved. We really believed that they had resolved to offer no opposition to

a law which it was quite evident that they perceived to be just and beneficial. But we have been disappointed.

It has been notified to us that the whole influence of the Government is to be exerted against our bill. In such

Yet, Sir, I do not altogether despair of success. When I consider what strong, what irresistible reasons we

have to urge, I can hardly think it possible that the mandate of the most powerful administration can prevail

against them. Nay, I should consider victory, not merely as probable, but as certain, if I did not know how

imperfect is the information which English gentlemen generally possess concerning Scotch questions. It is

because I know this that I think it my duty to depart from the ordinary practice, and, instead of simply

moving the second reading, to explain at some length the principles on which this bill has been framed. I

earnestly entreat those English Members who were not so fortunate as to hear the speech of my honourable

and learned friend, the Member for Leith to favour me with their attention. They will, I think, admit, that I

have a right to be heard with indulgence. I have been sent to this house by a great city which was once a

capital, the abode of a Sovereign, the place where the Estates of a realm held their sittings. For the general

good of the empire, Edinburgh descended from that high eminence. But, ceasing to be a political metropolis,

she became an intellectual metropolis. For the loss of a Court, of a Privy Council, of a Parliament, she found

compensation in the prosperity and splendour of an University renowned to the farthest ends of the earth as a

school of physical and moral science. This noble and beneficent institution is now threatened with ruin by the

folly of the Government, and by the violence of an ecclesiastical faction which is bent on persecution without

having the miserable excuse of fanaticism. Nor is it only the University of Edinburgh that is in danger. In

pleading for that University, I plead for all the great academical institutions of Scotland. The fate of all

depends on the event of this debate; and, in the name of all, I demand the attention of every man who loves

The first question which we have to consider is, whether the principles of the bill be sound. I believe that they

are sound; and I am quite confident that nobody who sits on the Treasury Bench will venture to pronounce

them unsound. It does not lie in the mouths of the Ministers to say that literary instruction and scientific

instruction are inseparably connected with religious instruction. It is not for them to rail against Godless

Colleges. It is not for them to talk with horror of the danger of suffering young men to listen to the lectures of

an Arian professor of Botany or of a Popish professor of Chemistry. They are themselves at this moment

setting up in Ireland a system exactly resembling the system which we wish to set up in Scotland. Only a few

hours have elapsed since they were themselves labouring to prove that, in a country in which a large

proportion of those who require a liberal education are dissenters from the Established Church, it is desirable

that there should be schools without theological tests. The right honourable Baronet at the head of the

Government proposes that in the new colleges which he is establishing at Belfast, Cork, Limerick, and

Galway, the professorships shall be open to men of every creed: and he has strenuously defended that part of

his plan against attacks from opposite quarters, against the attacks of zealous members of the Church of

England, and of zealous members of the Church of Rome. Only the day before yesterday the honourable

Baronet the Member for North Devon (Sir Thomas Acland.) ventured to suggest a test as unobjectionable as a

test could well be. He would merely have required the professors to declare their general belief in the divine

authority of the Old and New Testaments. But even this amendment the First Lord of the Treasury resisted,

and I think quite rightly. He told us that it was quite unnecessary to institute an inquisition into the religious

opinions of people whose business was merely to teach secular knowledge, and that it was absurd to imagine

that any man of learning would disgrace and ruin himself by preaching infidelity from the Greek chair or the

Some members of this House certainly held very different language: but their arguments made as little

impression on Her Majesty's Ministers as on me. We were told with the utmost earnestness that secular

knowledge, unaccompanied by a sound religious faith, and unsanctified by religious feeling, was not only

useless, but positively noxious, a curse to the possessor, a curse to society. I feel the greatest personal

kindness and respect for some gentlemen who hold this language. But they must pardon me if I say that the

proposition which they have so confidently laid down, however well it may sound in pious ears while it is

expressed in general terms, to be too monstrous, too ludicrous, for grave refutation. Is it seriously meant that,

if the Captain of an Indiaman is a Socinian, it would be better for himself, his crew, and his passengers, that

he should not know how to use his quadrant and his chronometers? Is it seriously meant that, if a druggist is a

Swedenborgian, it would be better for himself and his customers that he should not know the difference

between Epsom salts and oxalic acid? A hundred millions of the Queen's Asiatic subjects are Mahometans

and Pagans. Is it seriously meant that it is desirable that they should be as ignorant as the aboriginal

inhabitants of New South Wales, that they should have no alphabet, that they should have no arithmetic, that

they should not know how to build a bridge, how to sink a well, how to irrigate a field? If it be true that

secular knowledge, unsanctified by true religion, is a positive evil, all these consequences follow. Yet surely

they are consequences from which every sane mind must recoil. It is a great evil, no doubt, that a man should

be a heretic or an atheist. But I am quite at a loss to understand how this evil is mitigated by his not knowing

that the earth moves round the sun, that by the help of a lever, a small power will lift a great weight, that

On these grounds, Sir, I have cordially supported the Irish Colleges Bill. But the principle of the Irish

Colleges and the principle of the bill which I hold in my hand are exactly the same: and the House and the

country have a right to know why the authors of the former bill are the opponents of the latter bill. One

distinction there is, I admit, between Ireland and Scotland. It is true that in Scotland there is no clamour

against the Union with England. It is true that in Scotland no demagogue can obtain applause and riches by

slandering and reviling the English people. It is true that in Scotland there is no traitor who would dare to say

that he regards the enemies of the state as his allies. In every extremity the Scottish nation will be found

faithful to the common cause of the empire. But Her Majesty's Ministers will hardly I think, venture to say

that this is their reason for refusing to Scotland the boon which they propose to confer on Ireland. And yet, if

this be not their reason, what reason can we find? Observe how strictly analogous the cases are. You give it

as a reason for establishing in Ireland colleges without tests that the Established Church of Ireland is the

Church of the minority. Unhappily it may well be doubted whether the Established Church of Scotland, too,

be not now, thanks to your policy, the Church of the minority. It is true that the members of the Established

Church of Scotland are about a half of the whole population of Scotland; and that the members of the

Established Church of Ireland are not much more than a tenth of the whole population of Ireland. But the

question now before us does not concern the whole population. It concerns only the class which requires

academical education: and I do not hesitate to say that, in the class which requires academical education, in

the class for the sake of which universities exist, the proportion of persons who do not belong to the

Established Church is as great in Scotland as in Ireland. You tell us that sectarian education in Ireland is an

evil. Is it less an evil in Scotland? You tell us that it is desirable that the Protestant and the Roman Catholic

should study together at Cork. Is it less desirable that the son of an elder of the Established Church and the

son of an elder of the Free Church should study together at Edinburgh? You tell us that it is not reasonable to

require from a Professor of Astronomy or Surgery in Connaught a declaration that he believes in the Gospels.

On what ground, then, can you think it reasonable to require from every Professor in Scotland a declaration

that he approves of the Presbyterian form of church government? I defy you, with all your ingenuity, to find

one argument, one rhetorical topic, against our bill which may not be used with equal effect against your own

Is there any peculiarity in the academical system of Scotland which makes these tests necessary? Certainly

not. The academical system of Scotland has its peculiarities; but they are peculiarities which are not in

harmony with these tests, peculiarities which jar with these tests. It is an error to imagine that, by passing this

bill, we shall establish a precedent which will lead to a change in the constitution of the Universities of

Cambridge and Oxford. Whether such a change be or be not desirable is a question which must be decided on

grounds quite distinct from those on which we rest our case. I entreat English gentlemen not to be misled by

the word University. That word means two different things on the two different sides of the Tweed. The

academical authorities at Cambridge and Oxford stand in a parental relation to the student. They undertake,

not merely to instruct him in philology, geometry, natural philosophy, but to form his religious opinions, and

to watch over his morals. He is to be bred a Churchman. At Cambridge, he cannot graduate, at Oxford, I

believe, he cannot matriculate, without declaring himself a Churchman. The College is a large family. An

undergraduate is lodged either within the gates, or in some private house licensed and regulated by the

academical authorities. He is required to attend public worship according to the forms of the Church of

England several times every week. It is the duty of one officer to note the absence of young men from divine

service, of another to note their absence from the public table, of another to report those who return home at

unseasonably late hours. An academical police parade the streets at night to seize upon any unlucky reveller

who may be found drunk or in bad company. There are punishments of various degrees for irregularities of

conduct. Sometimes the offender has to learn a chapter of the Greek Testament; sometimes he is confined to

his college; sometimes he is publicly reprimanded: for grave offences he is rusticated or expelled. Now, Sir,

whether this system be good or bad, efficient or inefficient, I will not now inquire. This is evident; that

religious tests are perfectly in harmony with such a system. Christ Church and King's College undertake to

instruct every young man who goes to them in the doctrines of the Church of England, and to see that he

regularly attends the worship of the Church of England. Whether this ought to be so, I repeat, I will not now

inquire: but, while it is so, nothing can be more reasonable than to require from the rulers of Christ Church

and King's College some declaration that they are themselves members of the Church of England.

The character of the Scotch universities is altogether different. There you have no functionaries resembling

the ViceChancellors and Proctors, the Heads of Houses, Tutors and Deans, whom I used to cap at

Cambridge. There is no chapel; there is no academical authority entitled to ask a young man whether he goes

to the parish church or the Quaker meeting, to synagogue or to mass. With his moral conduct the university

has nothing to do. The Principal and the whole Academical Senate cannot put any restraint, or inflict any

punishment, on a lad whom they may see lying dead drunk in the High Street of Edinburgh. In truth, a

student at a Scotch university is in a situation closely resembling that of a medical student in London. There

are great numbers of youths in London who attend St George's Hospital, or St Bartholomew's Hospital. One

of these youths may also go to Albermarle Street to hear Mr Faraday lecture on chemistry, or to Willis's

rooms to hear Mr Carlyle lecture on German literature. On the Sunday he goes perhaps to church, perhaps to

the Roman Catholic chapel, perhaps to the Tabernacle, perhaps nowhere. None of the gentlemen whose

lectures he has attended during the week has the smallest right to tell him where he shall worship, or to

punish him for gambling in hells, or tippling in cider cellars. Surely we must all feel that it would be the

height of absurdity to require Mr Faraday and Mr Carlyle to subscribe a confession of faith before they

lecture; and in what does their situation differ from the situation of the Scotch professor.

In the peculiar character of the Scotch universities, therefore, I find a strong reason for the passing of this bill.

I find a reason stronger still when I look at the terms of the engagements which exist between the English and

Some gentlemen, I see, think that I am venturing on dangerous ground. We have been told, in confident

tones, that, if we pass this bill, we shall commit a gross breach of public faith, we shall violate the Treaty of

Union, and the Act of Security. With equal confidence, and with confidence much better grounded, I affirm

that the Treaty of Union and the Act of Security not only do not oblige us to reject this bill, but do oblige us

This proposition seems to be regarded by the Ministers as paradoxical: but I undertake to prove it by the

plainest and fairest argument. I shall resort to no chicanery. If I did think that the safety of the commonwealth

required that we should violate the Treaty of Union, I would violate it openly, and defend my conduct on the

ground of necessity. It may, in an extreme case, be our duty to break our compacts. It never can be our duty

to quibble them away. What I say is that the Treaty of Union, construed, not with the subtlety of a

pettifogger, but according to the spirit, binds us to pass this bill or some similar bill.

By the Treaty of Union it was covenanted that no person should be a teacher or officebearer in the Scotch

Universities who should not declare that he conformed to the worship and polity of the Established Church of

Scotland. What Church was meant by the two contracting parties? What Church was meant, more especially,

by the party to the side of which we ought always to lean, I mean the weaker party? Surely the Church

established in 1707, when the Union took place. Is then, the Church of Scotland at the present moment

constituted, on all points which the members of that Church think essential, exactly as it was constituted in

Every person who knows anything of the ecclesiastical history of Scotland knows that, ever since the

Reformation, the great body of the Presbyterians of that country have held that congregations ought to have a

share in the appointment of their ministers. This principle is laid down most distinctly in the First Book of

Discipline, drawn up by John Knox. It is laid down, though not quite so strongly, in the Second Book of

Discipline, drawn up by Andrew Melville. And I beg gentlemen, English gentlemen, to observe that in

Scotland this is not regarded as a matter of mere expediency. All staunch Presbyterians think that the flock is

entitled, jure divino, to a voice in the appointment of the pastor, and that to force a pastor on a parish to which

he is unacceptable is a sin as much forbidden by the Word of God as idolatry or perjury. I am quite sure that I

do not exaggerate when I say that the highest of our high churchmen at Oxford cannot attach more

importance to episcopal government and episcopal ordination than many thousands of Scotchmen, shrewd

men, respectable men, men who fear God and honour the Queen, attach to this right of the people.

When, at the time of the Revolution, the Presbyterian worship and discipline were established in Scotland,

the question of patronage was settled by a compromise, which was far indeed from satisfying men of extreme

opinions, but which was generally accepted. An Act, passed at Edinburgh, in 1690, transferred what we

should call in England the advowsons from the old patrons to parochial councils, composed of the elders and

the Protestant landowners. This system, however imperfect it might appear to such rigid Covenanters as

Davie Deans and Gifted Gilfillan, worked satisfactorily; and the Scotch nation seems to have been contented

with its ecclesiastical polity when the Treaty of Union was concluded. By that treaty the ecclesiastical polity

of Scotland was declared to be unalterable. Nothing, therefore, can be more clear than that the Parliament of

Great Britain was bound by the most sacred obligations not to revive those rights of patronage which the

But, Sir, the Union had not lasted five years when our ancestors were guilty of a great violation of public

faith. The history of that great fault and of its consequences is full of interest and instruction. The wrong was

committed hastily, and with contumelious levity. The offenders were doubtless far from foreseeing that their

offence would be visited on the third and fourth generation; that we should be paying in 1845 the penalty of

In 1712, Sir, the Whigs, who were the chief authors of the Union, had been driven from power. The

prosecution of Sacheverell had made them odious to the nation. The general election of 1710 had gone

against them. Tory statesmen were in office. Tory squires formed more than fivesixths of this House. The

party which was uppermost thought that England had, in 1707, made a bad bargain, a bargain so bad that it

could hardly be considered as binding. The guarantee so solemnly given to the Church of Scotland was a

subject of loud and bitter complaint. The Ministers hated that Church much; and their chief supporters, the

country gentlemen and country clergymen of England, hated it still more. Numerous petty insults were

offered to the opinions, or, if you please, the prejudices of the Presbyterians. At length it was determined to

go further, and to restore to the old patrons those rights which had been taken away in 1690. A bill was

brought into this House, the history of which you may trace in our Journals. Some of the entries are very

significant. In spite of all remonstrances the Tory majority would not hear of delay. The Whig minority

struggled hard, appealed to the act of Union and the Act of Security, and insisted on having both those Acts

read at the table. The bill passed this House, however, before the people of Scotland knew that it had been

brought in. For there were then neither reporters nor railroads; and intelligence from Westminster was longer

in travelling to Cambridge than it now is in travelling to Aberdeen. The bill was in the House of Lords before

the Church of Scotland could make her voice heard. Then came a petition from a committee appointed by the

General Assembly to watch over the interests of religion while the General Assembly itself was not sitting.

The first name attached to that petition is the name of Principal Carstairs, a man who had stood high in the

esteem and favour of William the Third, and who had borne a chief part in establishing the Presbyterian

Church in Scotland. Carstairs and his colleagues appealed to the Act of Union, and implored the peers not to

violate that Act. But party spirit ran high; public faith was disregarded: patronage was restored. To that

breach of the Treaty of Union are to be directly ascribed all the schisms that have since rent the Church of

I will not detain the House by giving a minute account of those schisms. It is enough to say that the law of

patronage produced, first the secession of 1733 and the establishment of the Associate Synod, then the

secession of 1752 and the establishment of the Relief Synod, and finally the great secession of 1843 and the

establishment of the Free Church. Only two years have elapsed since we saw, with mingled admiration and

pity, a spectacle worthy of the best ages of the Church. Four hundred and seventy ministers resigned their

stipends, quitted their manses, and went forth committing themselves, their wives, their children, to the care

of Providence. Their congregations followed them by thousands, and listened eagerly to the Word of Life in

tents, in barns, or on those hills and moors where the stubborn Presbyterians of a former generation had

prayed and sung their psalms in defiance of the boot of Lauderdale and of the sword of Dundee. The rich

gave largely of their riches. The poor contributed with the spirit of her who put her two mites into the treasury

of Jerusalem. Meanwhile, in all the churches of large towns, of whole counties, the established clergy were

preaching to empty benches. And of these secessions every one may be distinctly traced to that violation of

This, Sir, is the true history of dissent in Scotland: and, this being so, how can any man have the front to

invoke the Treaty of Union and the Act of Security against those who are devotedly attached to that system

which the Treaty of Union and the Act of Security were designed to protect, and who are seceders only

because the Treaty of Union and the Act of Security have been infringed? I implore gentlemen to reflect on

the manner in which they and their fathers have acted towards the Scotch Presbyterians. First you bind

yourselves by the most solemn obligations to maintain unaltered their Church as it was constituted in 1707.

Five years later you alter the constitution of their Church in a point regarded by them as essential. In

consequence of your breach of faith secession after secession takes place, till at length the Church of the State

ceases to be the Church of the People. Then you begin to be squeamish. Then those articles of the Treaty of

Union which, when they really were obligatory, you outrageously violated, now when they are no longer

obligatory, now when it is no longer in your power to observe them according to the spirit, are represented as

inviolable. You first, by breaking your word, turn hundreds of thousands of Churchmen into Dissenters; and

then you punish them for being Dissenters, because, forsooth, you never break your word. If your

consciences really are so tender, why do you not repeal the Act of 1712? Why do you not put the Church of

Scotland back into the same situation in which she was in 1707. We have had occasion more than once in the

course of this session to admire the casuistical skill of Her Majesty's Ministers. But I must say that even their

scruple about slavegrown sugar, though that scruple is the laughingstock of all Europe and all America, is

respectable when compared with their scruple about the Treaty of Union. Is there the slightest doubt that

every compact ought to be construed according to the sense in which it was understood by those who made

it? And is there the slightest doubt as to the sense in which the compact between England and Scotland was

understood by those who made it? Suppose that we could call up from their graves the Presbyterian divines

who then sate in the General Assembly. Suppose that we could call up Carstairs; that we could call up

Boston, the author of the Fourfold State; that we could relate to them the history of the ecclesiastical

revolutions which have, since their time, taken place in Scotland; and that we could then ask them, "Is the

Established Church, or is the Free Church, identical with the Church which existed at the time of the Union?"

Is it not quite certain what their answer would be? They would say, "Our Church, the Church which you

promised to maintain unalterable, was not the Church which you protect, but the Church which you oppress.

Our Church was the Church of Chalmers and Brewster, not the Church of Bryce and Muir."

It is true, Sir, that the Presbyterian dissenters are not the only dissenters whom this bill will relieve. By the

law, as it now stands, all persons who refuse to declare their approbation of the synodical polity, that is to

say, all persons who refuse to declare that they consider episcopal government and episcopal ordination as, at

least, matters altogether indifferent, are incapable of holding academical office in Scotland. Now, Sir, will

any gentleman who loves the Church of England vote for maintaining this law? If, indeed, he were bound by

public faith to maintain this law, I admit that he would have no choice. But I have proved, unless I greatly

deceive myself, that he is not bound by public faith to maintain this law? Can he then conscientiously support

the Ministers tonight? If he votes with them, he votes for persecuting what he himself believes to be the

truth. He holds out to the members of his own Church lures to tempt them to renounce that Church, and to

join themselves to a Church which he considers as less pure. We may differ as to the propriety of imposing

penalties and disabilities on heretics. But surely we shall agree in thinking that we ought not to punish men

I know, Sir, that there are many gentlemen who dislike innovation merely as innovation, and would be glad

always to keep things as they are now. Even to this class of persons I will venture to appeal. I assure them

that we are not the innovators. I assure them that our object is to keep things as they are and as they have long

been. In form, I own, we are proposing a change; but in truth we are resisting a change. The question really

is, not whether we shall remove old tests, but whether we shall impose new ones. The law which we seek to

repeal has long been obsolete. So completely have the tests been disused that, only the other day, the right

honourable Baronet, the Secretary for the Home Department, when speaking in favour of the Irish Colleges

Bill, told us that the Government was not making a rash experiment. "Our plan," he said, "has already been

tried at Edinburgh and has succeeded. At Edinburgh the tests have been disused near a hundred years." As to

Glasgow the gentlemen opposite can give us full information from their own experience. For there are at least

three members of the Cabinet who have been Lords Rectors; the First Lord of the Treasury, and the

Secretaries for the Home Department and the Colonial Department. They never took the test. They probably

would not have taken it; for they are all Episcopalians. In fact, they belong to the very class which the test

was especially meant to exclude. The test was not meant to exclude Presbyterian dissenters; for the

Presbyterian Church was not yet rent by any serious schism. Nor was the test meant to exclude the Roman

Catholics; for against the Roman Catholics there was already abundant security. The Protestant Episcopalian

was the enemy against whom it was, in 1707, thought peculiarly necessary to take precautions. That those

precautions have long been disused the three members of the Cabinet whom I mentioned can certify.

On a sudden the law, which had long slept a deep sleep, has been awakened, stirred up, and put into vigorous

action. These obsolete tests are now, it seems, to be exacted with severity. And why? Simply because an

event has taken place which makes them ten times as unjust and oppressive as they would have been

formerly. They were not required while the Established Church was the Church of the majority. They are to

be required solely because a secession has taken place which has made the Established Church the Church of

the minority. While they could have done little mischief they were suffered to lie neglected. They are now to

be used, because a time has come at which they cannot be used without fatal consequences.

It is impossible for me to speak without indignation of those who have taken the lead in the work of

persecution. Yet I must give them credit for courage. They have selected as their object of attack no less a

man than Sir David Brewster, Principal of the University of Saint Andrews. I hold in my hand the libel, as it

is technically called, in which a Presbytery of the Established Church demands that Sir David, for the crime

of adhering to that ecclesiastical polity which was guaranteed to his country by the Act of Union, shall be

"removed from his office, and visited with such other censure or punishment as the laws of the Church

enjoin, for the glory of God, the safety of the Church, and the prosperity of the University, and to deter others

holding the same important office from committing the like offence in all time coming, but that others may

hear and fear the danger and detriment of following divisive courses." Yes; for the glory of God, the safety of

the Church, and the prosperity of the University. What right, Sir, have the authors of such an instrument as

this to raise their voices against the insolence and intolerance of the Vatican? The glory of God! As to that, I

will only say that this is not the first occasion on which the glory of God has been made a pretext for the

injustice of man. The safety of the Church! Sir, if, which God forbid, that Church is really possessed by the

evil spirit which actuates this Presbytery; if that Church, having recently lost hundreds of able ministers and

hundreds of thousands of devout hearers, shall, instead of endeavouring, by meekness, and by redoubled

diligence, to regain those whom she has estranged, give them new provocation; if she shall sharpen against

them an old law the edge of which has long rusted off, and which, when it was first made, was made not for

her defence, but for theirs; then I pronounce the days of that Church numbered. As to the prosperity of the

University, is there a corner of Europe where men of science will not laugh when they hear that the prosperity

of the University of Saint Andrews is to be promoted by expelling Sir David Brewster on account of a

theological squabble? The professors of Edinburgh know better than this Presbytery how the prosperity of a

seat of learning is to be promoted. There the Academic Senate is almost unanimous in favour of the bill. And

indeed it is quite certain that, unless this bill, or some similar bill, be passed, a new college will soon be

founded and endowed with that munificence of which the history of the Free Church furnishes so many

examples. From the day on which such an university arises, the old universities must decline. Now, they are

practically national, and not sectarian, institutions. And yet, even now, the emoluments of a professorship are

so much smaller than those which ability and industry can obtain in other ways, that it is difficult to find

eminent men to fill the chairs. And if there be this difficulty now, when students of all religious persuasions

attend the lectures, what is likely to happen when all the members of the Free Church go elsewhere for

instruction? If there be this difficulty when you have all the world to choose professors from, what is likely to

happen when your choice is narrowed to less than onehalf of Scotland? As the professorships become

poorer, the professors will become less competent. As the professors become less competent, the classes will

become thinner. As the classes become thinner, the professorships will again become poorer. The decline will

become rapid and headlong. In a short time, the lectures will be delivered to empty rooms: the grass will

grow in the courts: and men not fit to be village dominies will occupy the chairs of Adam Smith and Dugald

How do Her Majesty's Ministers like such a prospect as this! Already they have, whether by their fault or

their misfortune I will not now inquire, secured for themselves an unenviable place in the history of Scotland.

Their names are already inseparably associated with the disruption of her Church. Are those names to be as

If the Government were consistent in error, some respect might be mingled with our disapprobation. But a

Government which is guided by no principle; a Government which, on the gravest questions, does not know

its own mind twentyfour hours together; a Government which is against tests at Cork, and for tests at

Glasgow, against tests at Belfast, and for tests at Edinburgh, against tests on the Monday, for them on the

Wednesday, against them again on the Thursdayhow can such a Government command esteem or

confidence? How can the Ministers wonder that their uncertain and capricious liberality fails to obtain the

applause of the liberal party? What right have they to complain if they lose the confidence of half the nation

But I do not speak to the Government. I speak to the House. I appeal to those who, on Monday last, voted

with the Ministers against the test proposed by the honourable Baronet the Member for North Devon. I know

what is due to party ties. But there is a mire so black and so deep that no leader has a right to drag his

followers through it. It is only fortyeight hours since honourable gentlemen were brought down to the

House to vote against requiring the professors in the Irish Colleges to make a declaration of belief in the

Gospel: and now the same gentlemen are expected to come down and to vote that no man shall be a professor

in a Scottish college who does not declare himself a Calvinist and a Presbyterian. Flagrant as is the injustice

with which the ministers have on this occasion treated Scotland, the injustice with which they have treated

their own supporters is more flagrant still. I call on all who voted with the Government on Monday to

consider whether they can consistently and honourably vote with the Government tonight: I call on all

members of the Church of England to ponder well before they make it penal to be a member of the Church of

England; and, lastly, I call on every man of every sect and party who loves science and letters, who is

solicitous for the public tranquillity, who respects the public faith, to stand by us in this our hard struggle to

avert the ruin which threatens the Universities of Scotland. I move that this bill be now read a second time.

The following Speech was delivered at a public meeting held at Edinburgh on the second of December, 1845,

for the purpose of petitioning Her Majesty to open the ports of the United Kingdom for the free admission of

My Lord Provost and Gentlemen,You will, I hope, believe that I am deeply sensible of the kindness with

which you have received me. I only beg that you will continue to extend your indulgence to me, if it should

happen that my voice should fail me in the attempt to address you. I have thought it my duty to obey your

summons, though I am hardly equal to the exertion of public speaking, and though I am so situated that I can

pass only a few hours among you. But it seemed to me that this was not an ordinary meeting or an ordinary

crisis. It seemed to me that a great era had arrived, and that, at such a conjuncture, you were entitled to know

the opinions and intentions of one who has the honour of being your representative.

With respect to the past, gentlemen, I have perhaps a little to explain, but certainly nothing to repent or to

retract. My opinions, from the day on which I entered public life, have never varied. I have always considered

the principle of protection of agriculture as a vicious principle. I have always thought that this vicious

principle took, in the Act of 1815, in the Act of 1828, and in the Act of 1842, a singularly vicious form. This I

declared twelve years ago, when I stood for Leeds: this I declared in May 1839, when I first presented myself

before you; and when, a few months later, Lord Melbourne invited me to become a member of his

Government, I distinctly told him that, in office or out of office, I must vote for the total repeal of the corn

But in the year 1841 a very peculiar crisis arrived. There was reason to hope that it might be possible to effect

a compromise, which would not indeed wholly remove the evils inseparable from a system of protection, but

which would greatly mitigate them. There were some circumstances in the financial situation of the country

which led those who were then the advisers of the Crown to hope that they might be able to get rid of the

sliding scale, and to substitute for it a moderate fixed duty. We proposed a duty of eight shillings a quarter on

wheat. The Parliament refused even to consider our plan. Her Majesty appealed to the people. I presented

myself before you; and you will bear me witness that I disguised nothing. I said, "I am for a perfectly free

trade in corn: but I think that, situated as we are, we should do well to consent to a compromise. If you return

me to Parliament, I shall vote for the eight shilling duty. It is for you to determine whether, on those terms,

you will return me or not." You agreed with me. You sent me back to the House of Commons on the distinct

understanding that I was to vote for the plan proposed by the Government of which I was a member. As soon

as the new Parliament met, a change of administration took place. But it seemed to me that it was my duty to

support, when out of place, that proposition to which I had been a party when I was in place. I therefore did

not think myself justified in voting for a perfectly free trade, till Parliament had decided against our fixed

duty, and in favour of Sir Robert Peel's new sliding scale. As soon as that decision had been pronounced, I

conceived that I was no longer bound by the terms of the compromise which I had, with many misgivings,

consented to offer to the agriculturists, and which the agriculturists had refused to accept. I have ever since

voted in favour of every motion which has been made for the total abolition of the duties on corn.

There has been, it is true, some difference of opinion between me and some of you. We belonged to the same

camp: but we did not quite agree as to the mode of carrying on the war. I saw the immense strength of the

interests which were arrayed against us. I saw that the corn monopoly would last forever if those who

defended it were united, while those who assailed it were divided. I saw that many men of distinguished

abilities and patriotism, such men as Lord John Russell, Lord Howick, Lord Morpeth, were unwilling to

relinquish all hope that the question might be settled by a compromise such as had been proposed in 1841. It

seemed to me that the help of such men was indispensable to us, and that, if we drove from us such valuable

allies, we should be unable to contend against the common enemy. Some of you thought that I was timorous,

and others that I was misled by party spirit or by personal friendship. I still think that I judged rightly. But I

will not now argue the question. It has been set at rest for ever, and in the best possible way. It is not

necessary for us to consider what relations we ought to maintain with the party which is for a moderate fixed

duty. That party has disappeared. Time, and reflection, and discussion, have produced their natural effect on

minds eminently intelligent and candid. No intermediate shades of opinion are now left. There is no twilight.

The light has been divided from the darkness. Two parties are ranged in battle array against each other. There

is the standard of monopoly. Here is the standard of free trade; and by the standard of free trade I pledge

Gentlemen, a resolution has been put into my hands which I shall move with the greatest pleasure. That

resolution sets forth in emphatic language a truth of the highest importance, namely, that the present corn

laws press with especial severity on the poor. There was a time, gentlemen, when politicians were not

ashamed to defend the corn laws merely as contrivances for putting the money of the many into the pockets

of the few. We must,so these men reasoned,have a powerful and opulent class of grandees: that we may

have such grandees, the rent of land must be kept up: and that the rent of land may be kept up, the price of

bread must be kept up. There may still be people who think thus: but they wisely keep their thoughts to

themselves. Nobody now ventures to say in public that ten thousand families ought to be put on short

allowance of food in order that one man may have a fine stud and a fine picture gallery. Our monopolists

have changed their ground. They have abandoned their old argument for a new argument much less

invidious, but, I think, rather more absurd. They have turned philanthropists. Their hearts bleed for the misery

of the poor labouring man. They constantly tell us that the cry against the corn laws has been raised by

capitalists; that the capitalist wishes to enrich himself at the expense both of the landed gentry and of the

working people; that every reduction of the price of food must be followed by a reduction of the wages of

labour; and that, if bread should cost only half what it now costs, the peasant and the artisan would be sunk in

wretchedness and degradation, and the only gainers would be the millowners and the money changers. It is

not only by landowners, it is not only by Tories, that this nonsense has been talked. We have heard it from

men of a very different class, from demagogues who wish to keep up the corn laws, merely in order that the

corn laws may make the people miserable, and that misery may make the people turbulent. You know how

assiduously those enemies of all order and all property have laboured to deceive the working man into a

belief that cheap bread would be a curse to him. Nor have they always laboured in vain. You remember that

once, even in this great and enlightened city, a public meeting called to consider the corn laws was disturbed

by a deluded populace. Now, for my own part, whenever I hear bigots who are opposed to all reform, and

anarchists who are bent on universal destruction, join in the same cry, I feel certain that it is an absurd and

mischievous cry; and surely never was there a cry so absurd and mischievous as this cry against cheap loaves.

It seems strange that Conservatives, people who profess to hold new theories in abhorrence, people who are

always talking about the wisdom of our ancestors, should insist on our receiving as an undoubted truth a

strange paradox never heard of from the creation of the world till the nineteenth century. Begin with the most

ancient book extant, the Book of Genesis, and come down to the parliamentary debates of 1815; and I will

venture to say that you will find that, on this point, the party which affects profound reverence for antiquity

and prescription has against it the unanimous voice of thirtythree centuries. If there be anything in which all

peoples, nations, and languages, Jews, Greeks, Romans, Italians, Frenchmen, Englishmen, have agreed, it has

been this, that the dearness of food is a great evil to the poor. Surely, the arguments which are to

counterbalance such a mass of authority ought to be weighty. What then are those arguments? I know of only

one. If any gentleman is acquainted with any other, I wish that he would communicate it to us; and I will

engage that he shall have a fair and full hearing. The only argument that I know of is this, that there are some

countries in the world where food is cheaper than in England, and where the people are more miserable than

in England. Bengal has been mentioned. But Poland is the favourite case. Whenever we ask why there should

not be a free trade in corn between the Vistula and the Thames, the answer is, "Do you wish our labourers to

be reduced to the condition of the peasants of the Vistula?" Was such reasoning ever heard before? See how

readily it may be turned against those who use it. Corn is cheaper at Cincinnati than here; but the wages of

the labourer are much higher at Cincinnati than here: therefore, the lower the price of food, the higher the

wages will be. This reasoning is just as good as the reasoning of our adversaries: that is to say, it is good for

nothing. It is not one single cause that makes nations either prosperous or miserable. No friend of free trade is

such an idiot as to say that free trade is the only valuable thing in the world; that religion, government, police,

education, the administration of justice, public expenditure, foreign relations, have nothing whatever to do

with the wellbeing of nations; that people sunk in superstition, slavery, barbarism, must be happy if they

have only cheap food. These gentlemen take the most unfortunate country in the world, a country which,

while it had an independent government, had the very worst of independent governments; the sovereign a

mere phantom; the nobles defying him and quarrelling with each other; the great body of the population in a

state of servitude; no middle class; no manufactures; scarcely any trade, and that in the hands of Jew pedlars.

Such was Poland while it was a separate kingdom. But foreign invaders came down upon it. It was

conquered: it was reconquered: it was partitioned: it was repartitioned: it is now under a government of which

I will not trust myself to speak. This is the country to which these gentlemen go to study the effect of low

prices. When they wish to ascertain the effect of high prices, they take our own country; a country which has

been during many generations the best governed in Europe; a country where personal slavery has been

unknown during ages; a country which enjoys the blessings of a pure religion, of freedom, of order; a country

long secured by the sea against invasion; a country in which the oldest man living has never seen a foreign

flag except as a trophy. Between these two countries our political philosophers institute a comparison. They

find the Briton better off than the Pole; and they immediately come to the conclusion that the Briton is so

well off because his bread is dear, and the Pole so ill off because his bread is cheap. Why, is there a single

good which in this way I could not prove to be an evil, or a single evil which I could not prove to be a good?

Take lameness. I will prove that it is the best thing in the world to be lame: for I can show you men who are

lame, and yet much happier than many men who have the full use of their legs. I will prove health to be a

calamity. For I can easily find you people in excellent health whose fortunes have been wrecked, whose

character has been blasted, and who are more wretched than many invalids. But is that the way in which any

man of common sense reasons? No; the question is: Would not the lame man be happier if you restored to

him the use of his limbs? Would not the healthy man be more wretched if he had gout and rheumatism in

addition to all his other calamities? Would not the Englishman be better off if food were as cheap here as in

Poland? Would not the Pole be more miserable if food were as dear in Poland as here? More miserable

It is evident that the true way of determining the question which we are considering, is to compare the state of

a society when food is cheap with the state of that same society when food is dear; and this is a comparison

which we can very easily make. We have only to recall to our memory what we have ourselves seen within

the last ten years. Take the year 1835. Food was cheap then; and the capitalist prospered greatly. But was the

labouring man miserable? On the contrary, it is notorious that work was plentiful, that wages were high, that

the common people were thriving and contented. Then came a change like that in Pharaoh's dream. The thin

ears had blighted the full ears; the lean kine had devoured the fat kine; the days of plenty were over; and the

days of dearth had arrived. In 1841 the capitalist was doubtless distressed. But will anybody tell me that the

capitalist was the only sufferer, or the chief sufferer? Have we forgotten what was the condition of the

working people in that unhappy year? So visible was the misery of the manufacturing towns that a man of

sensibility could hardly bear to pass through them. Everywhere he found filth and nakedness, and plaintive

voices, and wasted forms, and haggard faces. Politicians who had never been thought alarmists began to

tremble for the very foundations of society. First the mills were put on short time. Then they ceased to work

at all. Then went to pledge the scanty property of the artisan: first his little luxuries, then his comforts, then

his necessaries. The hovels were stripped till they were as bare as the wigwam of a Dogribbed Indian. Alone,

amidst the general misery, the shop with the three golden balls prospered, and was crammed from cellar to

garret with the clocks, and the tables, and the kettles, and the blankets, and the bibles of the poor. I remember

well the effect which was produced in London by the unwonted sight of the huge pieces of cannon which

were going northward to overawe the starving population of Lancashire. These evil days passed away. Since

that time we have again had cheap bread. The capitalist has been a gainer. It was fit that he should be a

gainer. But has he been the only gainer? Will those who are always telling us that the Polish labourer is worse

off than the English labourer venture to tell us that the English labourer was worse off in 1844 than in 1841?

Have we not everywhere seen the goods of the poor coming back from the magazine of the pawnbroker?

Have we not seen in the house of the working man, in his clothing, in his very looks as he passed us in the

streets, that he was a happier being? As to his pleasures, and especially as to the most innocent, the most

salutary, of his pleasures, ask your own most intelligent and useful fellow citizen Mr Robert Chambers what

sale popular books had in the year 1841, and what sale they had last year. I am assured that, in one week of

1845, the sums paid in wages within twenty miles of Manchester exceeded by a million and a half the sums

Gentlemen, both the capitalist and the labourer have been gainers, as they ought to have been gainers, by the

diminution in the price of bread. But there is a third party, which ought not to have gained by that diminution,

and yet has gained very greatly by it; and that party is Her Majesty's present Government. It is for the interest

of rulers that those whom they rule should be prosperous. But the prosperity which we have lately enjoyed

was a prosperity for which we were not indebted to our rulers. It came in spite of them. It was produced by

the cheapness of that which they had laboured to render dear. Under pretence of making us independent of

foreign supply, they have established a system which makes us dependent in the worst possible way. As my

valued friend, the Lord Provost (Mr Adam Black.), has justly said, there is a mutual dependence among

nations of which we cannot get rid. That Providence has assigned different productions to different climates

is a truth with which everybody is familiar. But this is not all. Even in the same climate different productions

belong to different stages of civilisation. As one latitude is favourable to the vine and another to the sugar

cane, so there is, in the same latitude, a state of society in which it is desirable that the industry of men should

be almost entirely directed towards the cultivation of the earth, and another state of society in which it is

desirable that a large part of the population should be employed in manufactures. No dependence can be

conceived more natural, more salutary, more free from everything like degradation than the mutual

dependence which exists between a nation which has a boundless extent of fertile land, and a nation which

has a boundless command of machinery; between a nation whose business is to turn deserts into corn fields,

and a nation whose business is to increase tenfold by ingenious processes the value of the fleece and of the

rude iron ore. Even if that dependence were less beneficial than it is, we must submit to it; for it is inevitable.

Make what laws we will, we must be dependent on other countries for a large part of our food. That point was

decided when England ceased to be an exporting country. For, gentlemen, it is demonstrable that none but a

country which ordinarily exports food can be independent of foreign supplies. If a manufacturer determines

to produce ten thousand pair of stockings, he will produce the ten thousand, and neither more nor less. But an

agriculturist cannot determine that he will produce ten thousand quarters of corn, and neither more nor less.

That he may be sure of having ten thousand quarters in a bad year, he must sow such a quantity of land that

he will have much more than ten thousand in a good year. It is evident that, if our island does not in ordinary

years produce many more quarters than we want, it will in bad years produce fewer quarters than we want.

And it is equally evident that our cultivators will not produce more quarters of corn than we want, unless they

can export the surplus at a profit. Nobody ventures to tell us that Great Britain can be ordinarily an exporting

country. It follows that we must be dependent: and the only question is, Which is the best mode of

dependence? That question it is not difficult to answer. Go to Lancashire; see that multitude of cities, some of

them equal in size to the capitals of large kingdoms. Look at the warehouses, the machinery, the canals, the

railways, the docks. See the stir of that hive of human beings busily employed in making, packing, conveying

stuffs which are to be worn in Canada and Caffraria, in Chili and Java. You naturally ask, How is this

immense population, collected on an area which will not yield food for one tenth part of them, to be

nourished? But change the scene. Go beyond the Ohio, and there you will see another species of industry,

equally extensive and equally flourishing. You will see the wilderness receding fast before the advancing tide

of life and civilisation, vast harvests waving round the black stumps of what a few months ago was a pathless

forest, and cottages, barns, mills, rising amidst the haunts of the wolf and the bear. Here is more than enough

corn to feed the artisans of our thickly peopled island; and most gladly would the grower of that corn

exchange it for a Sheffield knife, a Birmingham spoon, a warm coat of Leeds woollen cloth, a light dress of

Manchester cotton. But this exchange our rulers prohibit. They say to our manufacturing population, "You

would willingly weave clothes for the people of America, and they would gladly sow wheat for you; but we

prohibit this intercourse. We condemn both your looms and their ploughs to inaction. We will compel you to

pay a high price for a stinted meal. We will compel those who would gladly be your purveyors and your

customers to be your rivals. We will compel them to turn manufacturers in selfdefence; and when, in close

imitation of us, they impose high duties on British goods for the protection of their own produce, we will, in

our speeches and despatches, express wonder and pity at their strange ignorance of political economy."

Such has been the policy of Her Majesty's Ministers; but it has not yet been fairly brought to the trial. Good

harvests have prevented bad laws from producing their full effect. The Government has had a run of luck; and

vulgar observers have mistaken luck for wisdom. But such runs of luck do not last forever. Providence will

not always send the rain and the sunshine just at such a time and in such a quantity as to save the reputation

of shortsighted statesmen. There is too much reason to believe that evil days are approaching. On such a

subject it is a sacred duty to avoid exaggeration; and I shall do so. I observe that the writers,wretched

writers they are,who defend the present Administration, assert that there is no probability of a considerable

rise in the price of provisions, and that the Whigs and the AntiCornLaw League are busily engaged in

circulating false reports for the vile purpose of raising a panic. Now, gentlemen, it shall not be in the power of

anybody to throw any such imputation on me; for I shall describe our prospects in the words of the Ministers

themselves. I hold in my hand a letter in which Sir Thomas Freemantle, Secretary for Ireland, asks for

information touching the potato crop in that country. His words are these. "Her Majesty's Government is

seeking to learn the opinion of judges and well informed persons in every part of Ireland regarding the

probability of the supply being sufficient for the support of the people during the ensuing winter and spring,

provided care be taken in preserving the stock, and economy used in its consumption." Here, you will

observe, it is taken for granted that the supply is not sufficient for a year's consumption: it is taken for granted

that, without care and economy, the supply will not last to the end of the spring; and a doubt is expressed

whether, with care and economy, the supply will last even through the winter. In this letter the Ministers of

the Crown tell us that famine is close at hand; and yet, when this letter was written, the duty on foreign corn

was seventeen shillings a quarter. Is it necessary to say more about the merits of the sliding scale? We were

assured that this wonderful piece of machinery would secure us against all danger of scarcity. But unhappily

we find that there is a hitch; the sliding scale will not slide; the Ministers are crying "Famine," while the

And thus, Sir, I come back to the resolution which I hold in my hand, A dear year is before us. The price of

meal is already, I believe, half as much again as it was a few months ago. Again, unhappily, we are able to

bring to the test of facts the doctrine, that the dearness of food benefits the labourer and injures only the

capitalist. The price of food is rising. Are wages rising? On the contrary, they are falling. In numerous

districts the symptoms of distress are already perceptible. The manufacturers are already beginning to work

short time. Warned by repeated experience, they know well what is coming, and expect that 1846 will be a

If these things do not teach us wisdom, we are past all teaching. Twice in ten years we have seen the price of

corn go up; and, as it went up, the wages of the labouring classes went down. Twice in the same period we

have seen the price of corn go down; and, as it went down, the wages of the labouring classes went up. Surely

The prospect, gentlemen, is, doubtless, gloomy. Yet it has its bright part. I have already congratulated you on

the important fact that Lord John Russell and those who have hitherto acted on this subject in concert with

him, have given up all thoughts of fixed duty. I have to congratulate you on another fact not less important. I

am assured that the working people of the manufacturing districts have at last come to understand this

question. The sharp discipline which they have undergone has produced this good effect; that they will never

again listen to any orator who shall have the effrontery to tell them that their wages rise and fall with the price

of the loaf. Thus we shall go into the contest under such leading and with such a following as we never had

before. The best part of the aristocracy will be at our head. Millions of labouring men, who had been

separated from us by the arts of impostors, will be in our rear. So led and so followed, we may, I think, look

forward to victory, if not in this, yet in the next Parliament. But, whether our triumph be near or remote, I

assure you that I shall not fail as regards this question, to prove myself your true representative. I will now,

my Lord, put into your hands this resolution, "That the present corn law presses with especial severity on the

On the twentyninth of April, 1846, Mr Fielden, Member for Oldham, moved the second reading of a Bill for

limiting the labour of young persons in factories to ten hours a day. The debate was adjourned, and was

repeatedly resumed at long intervals. At length, on the twentysecond of May the Bill was rejected by 203

It is impossible, Sir, that I can remain silent after the appeal which has been made to me in so pointed a

manner by my honourable friend, the Member for Sheffield (Mr Ward.), and even if that appeal had not been

made to me, I should have been very desirous to have an opportunity of explaining the grounds on which I

It is, I hope, unnecessary for me to assure my honourable friend that I utterly disapprove of those aspersions

which have, both in this House and out of it, been thrown on the owners of factories. For that valuable class

of men I have no feeling but respect and good will. I am convinced that with their interests the interests of the

whole community, and especially of the labouring classes, are inseparably bound up. I can also with perfect

sincerity declare that the vote which I shall give tonight will not be a factious vote. In no circumstances

indeed should I think that the laws of political hostility warranted me in treating this question as a party

question. But at the present moment I would much rather strengthen than weaken the hands of Her Majesty's

Ministers. It is by no means pleasant to me to be under the necessity of opposing them. I assure them, I assure

my friends on this side of the House with whom I am so unfortunate as to differ, and especially my

honourable friend the Member for Sheffield, who spoke, I must say, in rather too plaintive a tone, that I have

no desire to obtain credit for humanity at their expense. I fully believe that their feeling towards the labouring

people is quite as kind as mine. There is no difference between us as to ends: there is an honest difference of

opinion as to means: and we surely ought to be able to discuss the points on which we differ without one

The details of the bill, Sir, will be more conveniently and more regularly discussed when we consider it in

Committee. Our business at present is with the principle: and the principle, we are told by many gentlemen of

great authority, is unsound. In their opinion, neither this bill, nor any other bill regulating the hours of labour,

can be defended. This, they say, is one of those matters about which we ought not to legislate at all; one of

those matters which settle themselves far better than any government can settle them. Now it is most

important that this point should be fully cleared up. We certainly ought not to usurp functions which do not

properly belong to us: but, on the other hand, we ought not to abdicate functions which do properly belong to

us. I hardly know which is the greater pest to society, a paternal government, that is to say a prying,

meddlesome government, which intrudes itself into every part of human life, and which thinks that it can do

everything for everybody better than anybody can do anything for himself; or a careless, lounging

government, which suffers grievances, such as it could at once remove, to grow and multiply, and which to

all complaint and remonstrance has only one answer: "We must let things alone: we must let things take their

course: we must let things find their level." There is no more important problem in politics than to ascertain

the just mean between these two most pernicious extremes, to draw correctly the line which divides those

cases in which it is the duty of the State to interfere from those cases in which it is the duty of the State to

abstain from interference. In old times the besetting sin of rulers was undoubtedly an inordinate disposition to

meddle. The lawgiver was always telling people how to keep their shops, how to till their fields, how to

educate their children, how many dishes to have on their tables, how much a yard to give for the cloth which

made their coats. He was always trying to remedy some evil which did not properly fall within his province:

and the consequence was that he increased the evils which he attempted to remedy. He was so much shocked

by the distress inseparable from scarcity that he made statutes against forestalling and regrating, and so turned

the scarcity into a famine. He was so much shocked by the cunning and hardheartedness of moneylenders

that he made laws against usury; and the consequence was that the borrower, who, if he had been left

unprotected, would have got money at ten per cent., could hardly, when protected, get it at fifteen per cent.

Some eminent political philosophers of the last century exposed with great ability the folly of such

legislation, and, by doing so, rendered a great service to mankind. There has been a reaction, a reaction which

has doubtless produced much good, but which like most reactions, has not been without evils and dangers.

Our statesmen cannot now be accused of being busybodies. But I am afraid that there is, even in some of the

ablest and most upright among them a tendency to the opposite fault. I will give an instance of what I mean.

Fifteen years ago it became evident that railroads would soon, in every part of the kingdom, supersede to a

great extent the old highways. The tracing of the new routes which were to join all the chief cities, ports, and

naval arsenals of the island was a matter of the highest national importance. But, unfortunately, those who

should have acted for the nation, refused to interfere. Consequently, numerous questions which were really

public, questions which concerned the public convenience, the public prosperity, the public security, were

treated as private questions. That the whole society was interested in having a good system of internal

communication seemed to be forgotten. The speculator who wanted a large dividend on his shares, the

landowner who wanted a large price for his acres, obtained a full hearing. But nobody applied to be heard on

behalf of the community. The effects of that great error we feel, and we shall not soon cease to feel. Unless I

am greatly mistaken, we are in danger of committing tonight an error of the same kind. The honourable

member for Montrose (Mr Hume.) and my honourable friend the Member for Sheffield think that the

question before us is merely a question between the old and the new theories of commerce. They cannot

understand how any friend of free trade can wish the Legislature to interfere between the capitalist and the

labourer. They say, "You do not make a law to settle the price of gloves, or the texture of gloves, or the

length of credit which the glover shall give. You leave it to him to determine whether he will charge high or

low prices, whether he will use strong or flimsy materials, whether he will trust or insist on ready money.

You acknowledge that these are matters which he ought to be left to settle with his customers, and that we

ought not to interfere. It is possible that he may manage his shop ill. But it is certain that we shall manage it

ill. On the same grounds on which you leave the seller of gloves and the buyer of gloves to make their own

contract, you ought to leave the seller of labour and the buyer of labour to make their own contract."

I have a great respect, Sir, for those who reason thus: but I cannot see this matter in the light in which it

appears to them; and, though I may distrust my own judgment, I must be guided by it. I am, I believe, as

strongly attached as any member of this House to the principle of free trade, rightly understood. Trade,

considered merely as trade, considered merely with reference to the pecuniary interest of the contracting

parties, can hardly be too free. But there is a great deal of trade which cannot be considered merely as trade,

and which affects higher than pecuniary interests. And to say that Government never ought to regulate such

trade is a monstrous proposition, a proposition at which Adam Smith would have stood aghast. We impose

some restrictions on trade for purposes of police. Thus, we do not suffer everybody who has a cab and a horse

to ply for passengers in the streets of London. We do not leave the fare to be determined by the supply and

the demand. We do not permit a driver to extort a guinea for going half a mile on a rainy day when there is no

other vehicle on the stand. We impose some restrictions on trade for the sake of revenue. Thus, we forbid a

farmer to cultivate tobacco on his own ground. We impose some restrictions on trade for the sake of national

defence. Thus we compel a man who would rather be ploughing or weaving to go into the militia; and we fix

the amount of pay which he shall receive without asking his consent. Nor is there in all this anything

inconsistent with the soundest political economy. For the science of political economy teaches us only that

we ought not on commercial grounds to interfere with the liberty of commerce; and we, in the cases which I

have put, interfere with the liberty of commerce on higher than commercial grounds.

And now, Sir, to come closer to the case with which we have to deal, I say, first, that where the health of the

community is concerned, it may be the duty of the State to interfere with the contracts of individuals; and to

this proposition I am quite sure that Her Majesty's Government will cordially assent. I have just read a very

interesting report signed by two members of that Government, the Duke of Buccleuch, and the noble earl who

was lately Chief Commissioner of the Woods and Forests, and who is now Secretary for Ireland (The Earl of

Lincoln.); and, since that report was laid before the House, the noble earl himself has, with the sanction of the

Cabinet, brought in a bill for the protection of the public health. By this bill it is provided that no man shall be

permitted to build a house on his own land in any great town without giving notice to certain Commissioners.

No man is to sink a cellar without the consent of these Commissioners. The house must not be of less than a

prescribed width. No new house must be built without a drain. If an old house has no drain, the

Commissioners may order the owner to make a drain. If he refuses, they make a drain for him, and send him

in the bill. They may order him to whitewash his house. If he refuses, they may send people with pails and

brushes to whitewash it for him, at his charge. Now, suppose that some proprietor of houses at Leeds or

Manchester were to expostulate with the Government in the language in which the Government has

expostulated with the supporters of this bill for the regulation of factories. Suppose he were to say to the

noble earl, "Your lordship professes to be a friend to free trade. Your lordship's doctrine is that everybody

ought to be at liberty to buy cheap and to sell dear. Why then may not I run up a house as cheap as I can, and

let my rooms as dear as I can? Your lordship does not like houses without drains. Do not take one of mine

then. You think my bedrooms filthy. Nobody forces you to sleep in them. Use your own liberty: but do not

restrain that of your neighbours. I can find many a family willing to pay a shilling a week for leave to live in

what you call a hovel. And why am not I to take the shilling which they are willing to give me? And why are

not they to have such shelter as, for that shilling, I can afford them? Why did you send a man without my

consent to clean my house, and then force me to pay for what I never ordered? My tenants thought the house

clean enough for them; or they would not have been my tenants; and, if they and I were satisfied, why did

you, in direct defiance of all the principles of free trade, interfere between us?" This reasoning, Sir, is exactly

of a piece with the reasoning of the honourable Member for Montrose, and of my honourable friend the

Member for Sheffield. If the noble earl will allow me to make a defence for him, I believe that he would

answer the objection thus: "I hold," he would say, "the sound doctrine of free trade. But your doctrine of free

trade is an exaggeration, a caricature of the sound doctrine; and by exhibiting such a caricature you bring

discredit on the sound doctrine. We should have nothing to do with the contracts between you and your

tenants, if those contracts affected only pecuniary interests. But higher than pecuniary interests are at stake. It

concerns the commonwealth that the great body of the people should not live in a way which makes life

wretched and short, which enfeebles the body and pollutes the mind. If, by living in houses which resemble

hogstyes, great numbers of our countrymen have contracted the tastes of hogs, if they have become so

familiar with filth and stench and contagion, that they burrow without reluctance in holes which would turn

the stomach of any man of cleanly habits, that is only an additional proof that we have too long neglected our

Secondly, I say that where the public morality is concerned it may be the duty of the State to interfere with

the contracts of individuals. Take the traffic in licentious books and pictures. Will anybody deny that the

State may, with propriety, interdict that traffic? Or take the case of lotteries. I have, we will suppose, an estate

for which I wish to get twenty thousand pounds. I announce my intention to issue a thousand tickets at twenty

pounds each. The holder of the number which is first drawn is to have the estate. But the magistrate

interferes; the contract between me and the purchasers of my tickets is annulled; and I am forced to pay a

heavy penalty for having made such a contract. I appeal to the principle of free trade, as expounded by the

honourable gentlemen the Members for Montrose and Sheffield. I say to you, the legislators who have

restricted my liberty, "What business have you to interfere between a buyer and a seller? If you think the

speculation a bad one, do not take tickets. But do not interdict other people from judging for themselves."

Surely you would answer, "You would be right if this were a mere question of trade: but it is a question of

morality. We prohibit you from disposing of your property in this particular mode, because it is a mode

which tends to encourage a most pernicious habit of mind, a habit of mind incompatible with all the qualities

It must then, I think, be admitted that, where health is concerned, and where morality is concerned, the State

is justified in interfering with the contracts of individuals. And, if this be admitted, it follows that the case

Will it be denied that the health of a large part of the rising generation may be seriously affected by the

contracts which this bill is intended to regulate? Can any man who has read the evidence which is before us,

can any man who has ever observed young people, can any man who remembers his own sensations when he

was young, doubt that twelve hours a day of labour in a factory is too much for a lad of thirteen?

Or will it be denied that this is a question in which public morality is concerned? Can any one doubt,none,

I am sure, of my friends around me doubts,that education is a matter of the highest importance to the virtue

and happiness of a people? Now we know that there can be no education without leisure. It is evident that,

after deducting from the day twelve hours for labour in a factory, and the additional hours necessary for

exercise, refreshment, and repose, there will not remain time enough for education.

I have now, I think, shown that this bill is not in principle objectionable; and yet I have not touched the

strongest part of our case. I hold that, where public health is concerned, and where public morality is

concerned, the State may be justified in regulating even the contracts of adults. But we propose to regulate

only the contracts of infants. Now, was there ever a civilised society in which the contracts of infants were

not under some regulation? Is there a single member of this House who will say that a wealthy minor of

thirteen ought to be at perfect liberty to execute a conveyance of his estate, or to give a bond for fifty

thousand pounds? If anybody were so absurd as to say, "What has the Legislature to do with the matter? Why

cannot you leave trade free? Why do you pretend to understand the boy's interest better than he understands

it?"you would answer; "When he grows up, he may squander his fortune away if he likes: but at present

the State is his guardian; and he shall not ruin himself till he is old enough to know what he is about." The

minors whom we wish to protect have not indeed large property to throw away: but they are not the less our

wards. Their only inheritance, the only fund to which they must look for their subsistence through life, is the

sound mind in the sound body. And is it not our duty to prevent them from wasting their most precious

But, it is said, this bill, though it directly limits only the labour of infants, will, by an indirect operation, limit

also the labour of adults. Now, Sir, though I am not prepared to vote for a bill directly limiting the labour of

adults, I will plainly say that I do not think that the limitation of the labour of adults would necessarily

produce all those frightful consequences which we have heard predicted. You cheer me in very triumphant

tones, as if I had uttered some monstrous paradox. Pray, does it not occur to any of you that the labour of

adults is now limited in this country? Are you not aware that you are living in a society in which the labour of

adults is limited to six days in seven? It is you, not I, who maintain a paradox opposed to the opinions and the

practices of all nations and ages. Did you ever hear of a single civilised State since the beginning of the world

in which a certain portion of time was not set apart for the rest and recreation of adults by public authority? In

general, this arrangement has been sanctioned by religion. The Egyptians, the Jews, the Greeks, the Romans,

had their holidays: the Hindoo has his holidays: the Mussulman has his holidays: there are holidays in the

Greek Church, holidays in the Church of Rome, holidays in the Church of England. Is it not amusing to hear

a gentleman pronounce with confidence that any legislation which limits the labour of adults must produce

consequences fatal to society, without once reflecting that in the society in which he lives, and in every other

society that exists, or ever has existed, there has been such legislation without any evil consequence? It is true

that a Puritan Government in England, and an Atheistical Government in France, abolished the old holidays

as superstitious. But those Governments felt it to be absolutely necessary to institute new holidays. Civil

festivals were substituted for religious festivals. You will find among the ordinances of the Long Parliament a

law providing that, in exchange for the days of rest and amusement which the people had been used to enjoy

at Easter, Whitsuntide, and Christmas, the second Tuesday in every month should be given to the working

man, and that any apprentice who was forced to work on the second Tuesday of any month might have his

master up before a magistrate. The French Jacobins decreed that the Sunday should no longer be a day of

rest; but they instituted another day of rest, the Decade. They swept away the holidays of the Roman Catholic

Church; but they instituted another set of holidays, the Sansculottides, one sacred to Genius, one to Industry,

one to Opinion, and so on. I say, therefore, that the practice of limiting by law the time of the labour of adults

is so far from being, as some gentlemen seem to think, an unheard of and monstrous practice, that it is a

practice as universal as cookery, as the wearing of clothes, as the use of domestic animals.

And has this practice been proved by experience to be pernicious? Let us take the instance with which we are

most familiar. Let us inquire what has been the effect of those laws which, in our own country, limit the

labour of adults to six days in every seven. It is quite unnecessary to discuss the question whether Christians

be or be not bound by a divine command to observe the Sunday. For it is evident that, whether our weekly

holiday be of divine or of human institution, the effect on the temporal interests of Society will be exactly the

same. Now, is there a single argument in the whole Speech of my honourable friend the Member for

Sheffield which does not tell just as strongly against the laws which enjoin the observance of the Sunday as

against the bill on our table? Surely, if his reasoning is good for hours, it must be equally good for days.

He says, "If this limitation be good for the working people, rely on it that they will find it out, and that they

will themselves establish it without any law." Why not reason in the same way about the Sunday? Why not

say, "If it be a good thing for the people of London to shut their shops one day in seven, they will find it out,

and will shut their shops without a law?" Sir, the answer is obvious. I have no doubt that, if you were to poll

the shopkeepers of London, you would find an immense majority, probably a hundred to one, in favour of

closing shops on the Sunday; and yet it is absolutely necessary to give to the wish of the majority the sanction

of a law; for, if there were no such law, the minority, by opening their shops, would soon force the majority

But, says my honourable friend, you cannot limit the labour of adults unless you fix wages. This proposition

he lays down repeatedly, assures us that it is incontrovertible, and indeed seems to think it selfevident; for

he has not taken the trouble to prove it. Sir, my answer shall be very short. We have, during many centuries,

limited the labour of adults to six days in seven; and yet we have not fixed the rate of wages.

But, it is said, you cannot legislate for all trades; and therefore you had better not legislate for any. Look at

the poor sempstress. She works far longer and harder than the factory child. She sometimes plies her needle

fifteen, sixteen hours in the twentyfour. See how the housemaid works, up at six every morning, and toiling

up stairs and down stairs till near midnight. You own that you cannot do anything for the sempstress and the

housemaid. Why then trouble yourself about the factory child? Take care that by protecting one class you do

not aggravate the hardships endured by the classes which you cannot protect. Why, Sir, might not all this be

said, word for word, against the laws which enjoin the observance of the Sunday? There are classes of people

whom you cannot prevent from working on the Sunday. There are classes of people whom, if you could, you

ought not to prevent from working on the Sunday. Take the sempstress, of whom so much has been said. You

cannot keep her from sewing and hemming all Sunday in her garret. But you do not think that a reason for

suffering Covent Garden Market, and Leadenhall Market, and Smithfield Market, and all the shops from Mile

End to Hyde Park to be open all Sunday. Nay, these factories about which we are debating,does anybody

propose that they shall be allowed to work all Sunday? See then how inconsistent you are. You think it unjust

to limit the labour of the factory child to ten hours a day, because you cannot limit the labour of the

sempstress. And yet you see no injustice in limiting the labour of the factory child, aye, and of the factory

man, to six days in the week, though you cannot limit the labour of the sempstress.

But, you say, by protecting one class we shall aggravate the sufferings of all the classes which we cannot

protect. You say this; but you do not prove it; and all experience proves the contrary. We interfere on the

Sunday to close the shops. We do not interfere with the labour of the housemaid. But are the housemaids of

London more severely worked on the Sunday than on other days? The fact notoriously is the reverse. For

your legislation keeps the public feeling in a right state, and thus protects indirectly those whom it cannot

Will my honourable friend the Member for Sheffield maintain that the law which limits the number of

working days has been injurious to the working population? I am certain that he will not. How then can he

expect me to believe that a law which limits the number of working hours must necessarily be injurious to the

working population? Yet he and those who agree with him seem to wonder at our dulness because we do not

at once admit the truth of the doctrine which they propound on this subject. They reason thus. We cannot

reduce the number of hours of labour in factories without reducing the amount of production. We cannot

reduce the amount of production without reducing the remuneration of the labourer. Meanwhile, foreigners,

who are at liberty to work till they drop down dead at their looms, will soon beat us out of all the markets of

the world. Wages will go down fast. The condition of our working people will be far worse than it is; and our

unwise interference will, like the unwise interference of our ancestors with the dealings of the corn factor and

the money lender, increase the distress of the very class which we wish to relieve.

Now, Sir, I fully admit that there might be such a limitation of the hours of labour as would produce the evil

consequences with which we are threatened; and this, no doubt, is a very good reason for legislating with

great caution, for feeling our way, for looking well to all the details of this bill. But it is certainly not true that

every limitation of the hours of labour must produce these consequences. And I am, I must say, surprised

when I hear men of eminent ability and knowledge lay down the proposition that a diminution of the time of

labour must be followed by diminution of the wages of labour, as a proposition universally true, as a

proposition capable of being strictly demonstrated, as a proposition about which there can be no more doubt

than about any theorem in Euclid. Sir, I deny the truth of the proposition; and for this plain reason. We have

already, by law, greatly reduced the time of labour in factories. Thirty years ago, the late Sir Robert Peel told

the House that it was a common practice to make children of eight years of age toil in mills fifteen hours a

day. A law has since been made which prohibits persons under eighteen years of age from working in mills

more than twelve hours a day. That law was opposed on exactly the same grounds on which the bill before us

is opposed. Parliament was told then, as it is told now, that with the time of labour the quantity of production

would decrease, that with the quantity of production the wages would decrease, that our manufacturers would

be unable to contend with foreign manufacturers, and that the condition of the labouring population instead of

being made better by the interference of the Legislature would be made worse. Read over those debates; and

you may imagine that you are reading the debate of this evening. Parliament disregarded these prophecies.

The time of labour was limited. Have wages fallen? Has the cotton trade left Manchester for France or

Germany? Has the condition of the working people become more miserable? Is it not universally

acknowledged that the evils which were so confidently predicted have not come to pass? Let me be

understood. I am not arguing that, because a law which reduced the hours of daily labour from fifteen to

twelve did not reduce wages, a law reducing those hours from twelve to ten or eleven cannot possibly reduce

wages. That would be very inconclusive reasoning. What I say is this, that, since a law which reduced the

hours of daily labour from fifteen to twelve has not reduced wages, the proposition that every reduction of the

hours of labour must necessarily reduce wages is a false proposition. There is evidently some flaw in that

demonstration which my honourable friend thinks so complete; and what the flaw is we may perhaps

Sir, exactly three hundred years ago, great religious changes were taking place in England. Much was said

and written, in that inquiring and innovating age, about the question whether Christians were under a

religious obligation to rest from labour on one day in the week; and it is well known that the chief Reformers,

both here and on the Continent, denied the existence of any such obligation. Suppose then that, in 1546,

Parliament had made a law that they should thenceforth be no distinction between the Sunday and any other

day. Now, Sir, our opponents, if they are consistent with themselves, must hold that such a law would have

immensely increased the wealth of the country and the remuneration of the working man. What an effect, if

their principles be sound, must have been produced by the addition of one sixth to the time of labour! What

an increase of production! What a rise of wages! How utterly unable must the foreign artisan, who still had

his days of festivity and of repose, have found himself to maintain a competition with a people whose shops

were open, whose markets were crowded, whose spades and axes, and planes, and hods, and anvils, and

looms were at work from morning till night on three hundred and sixtyfive days a year! The Sundays of

three hundred years make up fifty years of our working days. We know what the industry of fifty years can

do. We know what marvels the industry of the last fifty years has wrought. The arguments of my honourable

friend irresistibly lead us to this conclusion, that if, during the last three centuries, the Sunday had not been

observed as a day of rest, we should have been a far richer, a far more highly civilised people than we now

are, and that the labouring classes especially would have been far better off than at present. But does he, does

any Member of the House, seriously believe that this would have been the case? For my own part, I have not

the smallest doubt that, if we and our ancestors had, during the last three centuries, worked just as hard on the

Sunday as on the week days, we should have been at this moment a poorer people and a less civilised people

than we are; that there would have been less production than there has been, that the wages of the labourer

would have been lower than they are, and that some other nation would have been now making cotton stuffs

Of course, Sir, I do not mean to say that a man will not produce more in a week by working seven days than

by working six days. But I very much doubt whether, at the end of a year, he will generally have produced

more by working seven days a week than by working six days a week; and I firmly believe that, at the end of

twenty years, he will have produced much less by working seven days a week than by working six days a

week. In the same manner I do not deny that a factory child will produce more, in a single day, by working

twelve hours than by working ten hours, and by working fifteen hours than by working twelve hours. But I do

deny that a great society in which children work fifteen, or even twelve hours a day will, in the lifetime of a

generation, produce as much as if those children had worked less. If we consider man merely in a commercial

point of view, if we consider him merely as a machine for the production of worsted and calico, let us not

forget what a piece of mechanism he is, how fearfully and wonderfully made. We do not treat a fine horse or

a sagacious dog exactly as we treat a spinning jenny. Nor will any slaveholder, who has sense enough to

know his own interest, treat his human chattels exactly as he treats his horses and his dogs. And would you

treat the free labourer of England like a mere wheel or pulley? Rely on it that intense labour, beginning too

early in life, continued too long every day, stunting the growth of the body, stunting the growth of the mind,

leaving no time for healthful exercise, leaving no time for intellectual culture, must impair all those high

qualities which have made our country great. Your overworked boys will become a feeble and ignoble race of

men, the parents of a more feeble and more ignoble progeny; nor will it be long before the deterioration of the

labourer will injuriously affect those very interests to which his physical and moral energies have been

sacrificed. On the other hand, a day of rest recurring in every week, two or three hours of leisure, exercise,

innocent amusement or useful study, recurring every day, must improve the whole man, physically, morally,

intellectually; and the improvement of the man will improve all that the man produces. Why is it, Sir, that the

Hindoo cotton manufacturer, close to whose door the cotton grows, cannot, in the bazaar of his own town,

maintain a competition with the English cotton manufacturer, who has to send thousands of miles for the raw

material, and who has then to send the wrought material thousands of miles to market? You will say that it is

owing to the excellence of our machinery. And to what is the excellence of our machinery owing? How many

of the improvements which have been made in our machinery do we owe to the ingenuity and patient thought

of working men? Adam Smith tells us in the first chapter of his great work, that you can hardly go to a

factory without seeing some very pretty machine, that is his expression,devised by some labouring man.

Hargraves, the inventor of the spinning jenny, was a common artisan. Crompton, the inventor of the mule

jenny, was a working man. How many hours of the labour of children would do so much for our

manufactures as one of these improvements has done? And in what sort of society are such improvements

most likely to be made? Surely in a society in which the faculties of the working people are developed by

education. How long will you wait before any negro, working under the lash in Louisiana, will contrive a

better machinery for squeezing the sugar canes? My honourable friend seems to me, in all his reasonings

about the commercial prosperity of nations, to overlook entirely the chief cause on which that prosperity

depends. What is it, Sir, that makes the great difference between country and country? Not the exuberance of

soil; not the mildness of climate; not mines, nor havens, nor rivers. These things are indeed valuable when

put to their proper use by human intelligence: but human intelligence can do much without them; and they

without human intelligence can do nothing. They exist in the highest degree in regions of which the

inhabitants are few, and squalid, and barbarous, and naked, and starving; while on sterile rocks, amidst

unwholesome marshes, and under inclement skies, may be found immense populations, well fed, well lodged,

well clad, well governed. Nature meant Egypt and Sicily to be the gardens of the world. They once were so.

Is it anything in the earth or in the air that makes Scotland more prosperous than Egypt, that makes Holland

more prosperous than Sicily? No; it was the Scotchman that made Scotland; it was the Dutchman that made

Holland. Look at North America. Two centuries ago the sites on which now arise mills, and hotels, and

banks, and colleges, and churches, and the Senate Houses of flourishing commonwealths, were deserts

abandoned to the panther and the bear. What has made the change? Was it the rich mould, or the redundant

rivers? No: the prairies were as fertile, the Ohio and the Hudson were as broad and as full then as now. Was

the improvement the effect of some great transfer of capital from the old world to the new? No, the emigrants

generally carried out with them no more than a pittance; but they carried out the English heart, and head, and

arm; and the English heart and head and arm turned the wilderness into cornfield and orchard, and the huge

trees of the primeval forest into cities and fleets. Man, man is the great instrument that produces wealth. The

natural difference between Campania and Spitzbergen is trifling, when compared with the difference between

a country inhabited by men full of bodily and mental vigour, and a country inhabited by men sunk in bodily

and mental decrepitude. Therefore it is that we are not poorer but richer, because we have, through many

ages, rested from our labour one day in seven. That day is not lost. While industry is suspended, while the

plough lies in the furrow, while the Exchange is silent, while no smoke ascends from the factory, a process is

going on quite as important to the wealth of nations as any process which is performed on more busy days.

Man, the machine of machines, the machine compared with which all the contrivances of the Watts and the

Arkwrights are worthless, is repairing and winding up, so that he returns to his labours on the Monday with

clearer intellect, with livelier spirits, with renewed corporal vigour. Never will I believe that what makes a

population stronger, and healthier, and wiser, and better, can ultimately make it poorer. You try to frighten us

by telling us, that in some German factories, the young work seventeen hours in the twentyfour, that they

work so hard that among thousands there is not one who grows to such a stature that he can be admitted into

the army; and you ask whether, if we pass this bill, we can possibly hold our own against such competition as

this? Sir, I laugh at the thought of such competition. If ever we are forced to yield the foremost place among

commercial nations, we shall yield it, not to a race of degenerate dwarfs, but to some people preeminently

For these reasons, Sir, I approve of the principle of this bill, and shall, without hesitation, vote for the second

reading. To what extent we ought to reduce the hours of labour is a question of more difficulty. I think that

we are in the situation of a physician who has satisfied himself that there is a disease, and that there is a

specific medicine for the disease, but who is not certain what quantity of that medicine the patient's

constitution will bear. Such a physician would probably administer his remedy by small doses, and carefully

watch its operation. I cannot help thinking that, by at once reducing the hours of labour from twelve to ten,

we should hazard too much. The change is great, and ought to be cautiously and gradually made. Suppose

that there should be an immediate fall of wages, which is not impossible. Might there not be a violent

reaction? Might not the public take up a notion that our legislation had been erroneous in principle, though, in

truth, our error would have been an error, not of principle, but merely of degree? Might not Parliament be

induced to retrace its steps? Might we not find it difficult to maintain even the present limitation? The wisest

course would, in my opinion, be to reduce the hours of labour from twelve to eleven, to observe the effect of

that experiment, and if, as I hope and believe, the result should be satisfactory, then to make a further

reduction from eleven to ten. This is a question, however, which will be with more advantage considered

One word, Sir, before I sit down, in answer to my noble friend near me. (Lord Morpeth.) He seems to think

that this bill is ill timed. I own that I cannot agree with him. We carried up on Monday last to the bar of the

Lords a bill which will remove the most hateful and pernicious restriction that ever was laid on trade. Nothing

can be more proper than to apply, in the same week, a remedy to a great evil of a directly opposite kind. As

lawgivers, we have two great faults to confess and to repair. We have done that which we ought not to have

done. We have left undone that which we ought to have done. We have regulated that which we should have

left to regulate itself. We have left unregulated that which we were bound to regulate. We have given to some

branches of industry a protection which has proved their bane. We have withheld from public health and

public morals the protection which was their due. We have prevented the labourer from buying his loaf where

he could get it cheapest; but we have not prevented him from ruining his body and mind by premature and

immoderate toil. I hope that we have seen the last both of a vicious system of interference and of a vicious

system of non interference, and that our poorer countrymen will no longer have reason to attribute their

I thank you, Gentlemen, for this cordial reception. I have thought it right to steal a short time from duties not

unimportant for the purpose of lending my aid to a an undertaking calculated, as I think, to raise the credit

and to promote the best interests of the city which has so many claims on my gratitude.

The Directors of our Institution have requested me to propose to you as a toast the Literature of Britain. They

could not have assigned to me a more agreeable duty. They chief object of this Institution is, I conceive, to

impart knowledge through the medium of our own language. Edinburgh is already rich in libraries worthy of

her fame as a seat of literature and a seat of jurisprudence. A man of letters can here without difficulty obtain

access to repositories filled with the wisdom of many ages and of many nations. But something was still

wanting. We still wanted a library open to that large, that important, that respectable class which, though by

no means destitute of liberal curiosity or of sensibility to literary pleasures, is yet forced to be content with

what is written in our own tongue. For that class especially, I do not say exclusively, this library is intended.

Our directors, I hope, will not be satisfied, I, as a member, shall certainly not be satisfied, till we possess a

noble and complete collection of English books, till it is impossible to seek in vain on our shelves for a single

English book which is valuable either on account of matter or on account of manner, which throws any light

on our civil, ecclesiastical, intellectual, or social history, which, in short, can afford either useful instruction

From such a collection, placed within the reach of that large and valuable class which I have mentioned, I am

disposed to expect great good. And when I say this, I do not take into the account those rare cases to which

my valued friend, the Lord Provost (Mr Adam Black.), so happily alluded. It is indeed not impossible that

some man of genius who may enrich our literature with imperishable eloquence or song, or who may extend

the empire of our race over matter, may feel in our reading room, for the first time the consciousness of

powers yet undeveloped. It is not impossible that our volumes may suggest the first thought of something

great to some future Burns, or Watt, or Arkwright. But I do not speak of these extraordinary cases. What I

confidently anticipate is that, through the whole of that class whose benefit we have peculiarly in view, there

will be a moral and an intellectual improvement; that many hours, which might otherwise be wasted in folly

or in vice, will be employed in pursuits which, while they afford the highest and most lasting pleasure, are not

only harmless, but purifying and elevating. My own experience, my own observation, justifies me in

entertaining this hope. I have had opportunities, both in this and in other countries, of forming some estimate

of the effect which is likely to be produced by a good collection of books on a society of young men. There

is, I will venture to say, no judicious commanding officer of a regiment who will not tell you that the vicinity

of a valuable library will improve perceptibly the whole character of a mess. I well knew one eminent

military servant of the East India Company, a man of great and various accomplishments, a man honourably

distinguished both in war and in diplomacy, a man who enjoyed the confidence of some of the greatest

generals and statesmen of our time. When I asked him how, having left his country while still a boy, and

having passed his youth at military stations in India, he had been able to educate himself, his answer was, that

he had been stationed in the neighbourhood of an excellent library, that he had been allowed free access to

the books, and that they had, at the most critical time of his life, decided his character, and saved him from

Some of the objections which have been made to such institutions as ours have been so happily and

completely refuted by my friend the Lord Provost, and by the Most Reverend Prelate who has honoured us

with his presence this evening (Archbishop Whateley.), that it would be idle to say again what has been so

well said. There is, however, one objection which, with your permission, I will notice. Some men, of whom I

wish to speak with great respect, are haunted, as it seems to me, with an unreasonable fear of what they call

superficial knowledge. Knowledge, they say, which really deserves the name, is a great blessing to mankind,

the ally of virtue, the harbinger of freedom. But such knowledge must be profound. A crowd of people who

have a smattering of mathematics, a smattering of astronomy, a smattering of chemistry, who have read a

little poetry and a little history, is dangerous to the commonwealth. Such half knowledge is worse than

ignorance. And then the authority of Pope is vouched. Drink deep or taste not; shallow draughts intoxicate:

drink largely; and that will sober you. I must confess that the danger which alarms these gentlemen never

seemed to me very serious: and my reason is this; that I never could prevail on any person who pronounced

superficial knowledge a curse, and profound knowledge a blessing, to tell me what was his standard of

profundity. The argument proceeds on the supposition that there is some line between profound and

superficial knowledge similar to that which separates truth from falsehood. I know of no such line. When we

talk of men of deep science, do we mean that they have got to the bottom or near the bottom of science? Do

we mean that they know all that is capable of being known? Do we mean even that they know, in their own

especial department, all that the smatterers of the next generation will know? Why, if we compare the little

truth that we know with the infinite mass of truth which we do not know, we are all shallow together; and the

greatest philosophers that ever lived would be the first to confess their shallowness. If we could call up the

first of human beings, if we could call up Newton, and ask him whether, even in those sciences in which he

had no rival, he considered himself as profoundly knowing, he would have told us that he was but a smatterer

like ourselves, and that the difference between his knowledge and ours vanished, when compared with the

quantity of truth still undiscovered, just as the distance between a person at the foot of Ben Lomond and at

the top of Ben Lomond vanishes when compared with the distance of the fixed stars.

It is evident then that those who are afraid of superficial knowledge do not mean by superficial knowledge

knowledge which is superficial when compared with the whole quantity of truth capable of being known. For,

in that sense, all human knowledge is, and always has been, and always must be, superficial. What then is the

standard? Is it the same two years together in any country? Is it the same, at the same moment, in any two

countries? Is it not notorious that the profundity of one age is the shallowness of the next; that the profundity

of one nation is the shallowness of a neighbouring nation? Ramohun Roy passed, among Hindoos, for a man

of profound Western learning; but he would have been but a very superficial member of this Institute. Strabo

was justly entitled to be called a profound geographer eighteen hundred years ago. But a teacher of

geography, who had never heard of America, would now be laughed at by the girls of a boardingschool.

What would now be thought of the greatest chemist of 1746, or of the greatest geologist of 1746? The truth is

that, in all experimental science, mankind is, of necessity, constantly advancing. Every generation, of course,

has its front rank and its rear rank; but the rear rank of a later generation occupies the ground which was

You remember Gulliver's adventures. First he is shipwrecked in a country of little men; and he is a Colossus

among them. He strides over the walls of their capital: he stands higher than the cupola of their great temple:

he tugs after him a royal fleet: he stretches his legs; and a royal army, with drums beating and colours flying,

marches through the gigantic arch: he devours a whole granary for breakfast, eats a herd of cattle for dinner,

and washes down his meal with all the hogsheads of a cellar. In his next voyage he is among men sixty feet

high. He who, in Lilliput, used to take people up in his hand in order that he might be able to hear them, is

himself taken up in the hands and held to the ears of his masters. It is all that he can do to defend himself with

his hanger against the rats and mice. The court ladies amuse themselves with seeing him fight wasps and

frogs: the monkey runs off with him to the chimney top: the dwarf drops him into the cream jug and leaves

him to swim for his life. Now, was Gulliver a tall or a short man? Why, in his own house at Rotherhithe, he

was thought a man of the ordinary stature. Take him to Lilliput; and he is Quinbus Flestrin, the Man

Mountain. Take him to Brobdingnag, and he is Grildrig, the little Manikin. It is the same in science. The

It might be amusing to institute a comparison between one of the profoundly learned men of the thirteenth

century and one of the superficial students who will frequent our library. Take the great philosopher of the

time of Henry the Third of England, or Alexander the Third of Scotland, the man renowned all over the

island, and even as far as Italy and Spain, as the first of astronomers and chemists. What is his astronomy? He

is a firm believer in the Ptolemaic system. He never heard of the law of gravitation. Tell him that the

succession of day and night is caused by the turning of the earth on its axis. Tell him that, in consequence of

this motion, the polar diameter of the earth is shorter than the equatorial diameter. Tell him that the

succession of summer and winter is caused by the revolution of the earth round the sun. If he does not set you

down for an idiot, he lays an information against you before the Bishop, and has you burned for a heretic. To

do him justice, however, if he is ill informed on these points, there are other points on which Newton and

Laplace were mere children when compared with him. He can cast your nativity. He knows what will happen

when Saturn is in the House of Life, and what will happen when Mars is in conjunction with the Dragon's

Tail. He can read in the stars whether an expedition will be successful, whether the next harvest will be

plentiful, which of your children will be fortunate in marriage, and which will be lost at sea. Happy the State,

happy the family, which is guided by the counsels of so profound a man! And what but mischief, public and

private, can we expect from the temerity and conceit of scolists who know no more about the heavenly bodies

than what they have learned from Sir John Herschel's beautiful little volume. But, to speak seriously, is not a

little truth better than a great deal of falsehood? Is not the man who, in the evenings of a fortnight, has

acquired a correct notion of the solar system, a more profound astronomer than a man who has passed thirty

years in reading lectures about the primum mobile, and in drawing schemes of horoscopes?

Or take chemistry. Our philosopher of the thirteenth century shall be, if you please, an universal genius,

chemist as well as astronomer. He has perhaps got so far as to know, that if he mixes charcoal and saltpetre in

certain proportions and then applies fire, there will be an explosion which will shatter all his retorts and

aludels; and he is proud of knowing what will in a later age be familiar to all the idle boys in the kingdom.

But there are departments of science in which he need not fear the rivalry of Black, or Lavoisier, or

Cavendish, or Davy. He is in hot pursuit of the philosopher's stone, of the stone that is to bestow wealth, and

health, and longevity. He has a long array of strangely shaped vessels, filled with red oil and white oil,

constantly boiling. The moment of projection is at hand; and soon all his kettles and gridirons will be turned

into pure gold. Poor Professor Faraday can do nothing of the sort. I should deceive you if I held out to you the

smallest hope that he will ever turn your halfpence into sovereigns. But if you can induce him to give at our

Institute a course of lectures such as I once heard him give at the Royal Institution to children in the

Christmas holidays, I can promise you that you will know more about the effects produced on bodies by heat

and moisture than was known to some alchemists who, in the middle ages, were thought worthy of the

As it has been in science so it has been in literature. Compare the literary acquirements of the great men of

the thirteenth century with those which will be within the reach of many who will frequent our reading room.

As to Greek learning, the profound man of the thirteenth century was absolutely on a par with the superficial

man of the nineteenth. In the modern languages, there was not, six hundred years ago, a single volume which

is now read. The library of our profound scholar must have consisted entirely of Latin books. We will

suppose him to have had both a large and a choice collection. We will allow him thirty, nay forty

manuscripts, and among them a Virgil, a Terence, a Lucan, an Ovid, a Statius, a great deal of Livy, a great

deal of Cicero. In allowing him all this, we are dealing most liberally with him; for it is much more likely that

his shelves were filled with treaties on school divinity and canon law, composed by writers whose names the

world has very wisely forgotten. But, even if we suppose him to have possessed all that is most valuable in

the literature of Rome, I say with perfect confidence that, both in respect of intellectual improvement, and in

respect of intellectual pleasures, he was far less favourably situated than a man who now, knowing only the

English language, has a bookcase filled with the best English works. Our great man of the Middle Ages could

not form any conception of any tragedy approaching Macbeth or Lear, or of any comedy equal to Henry the

Fourth or Twelfth Night. The best epic poem that he had read was far inferior to the Paradise Lost; and all the

The Novum Organum, it is true, persons who know only English must read in a translation: and this reminds

me of one great advantage which such persons will derive from our Institution. They will, in our library, be

able to form some acquaintance with the master minds of remote ages and foreign countries. A large part of

what is best worth knowing in ancient literature, and in the literature of France, Italy, Germany, and Spain,

has been translated into our own tongue. It is scarcely possible that the translation of any book of the highest

class can be equal to the original. But, though the finer touches may be lost in the copy, the great outlines will

remain. An Englishman who never saw the frescoes in the Vatican may yet, from engravings, form some

notion of the exquisite grace of Raphael, and of the sublimity and energy of Michael Angelo. And so the

genius of Homer is seen in the poorest version of the Iliad; the genius of Cervantes is seen in the poorest

version of Don Quixote. Let it not be supposed that I wish to dissuade any person from studying either the

ancient languages or the languages of modern Europe. Far from it. I prize most highly those keys of

knowledge; and I think that no man who has leisure for study ought to be content until he possesses several of

them. I always much admired a saying of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. "When I learn a new language," he

said, "I feel as if I had got a new soul." But I would console those who have not time to make themselves

linguists by assuring them that, by means of their own mother tongue, they may obtain ready access to vast

intellectual treasures, to treasures such as might have been envied by the greatest linguists of the age of

Charles the Fifth, to treasures surpassing those which were possessed by Aldus, by Erasmus, and by

And thus I am brought back to the point from which I started. I have been requested to invite you to fill your

glasses to the Literature of Britain; to that literature, the brightest, the purest, the most durable of all the

glories of our country; to that literature, so rich in precious truth and precious fiction; to that literature which

boasts of the prince of all poets and of the prince of all philosophers; to that literature which has exercised an

influence wider than that of our commerce, and mightier than that of our arms; to that literature which has

taught France the principles of liberty, and has furnished Germany with models of art; to that literature which

forms a tie closer than the tie of consanguinity between us and the commonwealths of the valley of the

Mississippi; to that literature before the light of which impious and cruel superstitions are fast taking flight on

the banks of the Ganges; to that literature which will, in future ages, instruct and delight the unborn millions

who will have turned the Australasian and Caffrarian deserts into cities and gardens. To the Literature of

Britain, then! And, wherever British literature spreads, may it be attended by British virtue and by British

In the year 1847 the Government asked from the House of Commons a grant of one hundred thousand pounds

for the education of the people. On the nineteenth of April, Lord John Russell, having explained the reasons

for this application, moved the order of the day for a Committee of Supply. Mr Thomas Duncombe, Member

for Finsbury, moved the following amendment: "That previous to any grant of public money being assented

to by this House, for the purpose of carrying out the scheme of national education, as developed in the

Minutes of the Committee of Council on Education in August and December last, which minutes have been

presented to both Houses of Parliament by command of Her Majesty, a select Committee be appointed to

inquire into the justice and expediency of such a scheme, and its probable annual cost; also to inquire whether

the regulations attached thereto do not unduly increase the influence of the Crown, invade the constitutional

functions of Parliament, and interfere with the religious convictions and civil rights of Her Majesty's

In opposition to this amendment, the following Speech was made. After a debate of three nights, Mr Thomas

Duncombe obtained permission to withdraw the latter part of his amendment. The first part was put, and

You will not wonder, Sir, that I am desirous to catch your eye this evening. The first duty which I performed,

as a Member of the Committee of Council which is charged with the superintendence of public instruction,

was to give my hearty assent to the plan which the honourable Member for Finsbury calls on the House to

condemn. I am one of those who have been accused in every part of the kingdom, and who are now accused

in Parliament, of aiming, under specious pretences, a blow at the civil and religious liberties of the people. It

is natural therefore that I should seize the earliest opportunity of vindicating myself from so grave a charge.

The honourable Member for Finsbury must excuse me if, in the remarks which I have to offer to the House, I

should not follow very closely the order of his speech. The truth is that a mere answer to his speech would be

no defence of myself or of my colleagues. I am surprised, I own, that a man of his acuteness and ability

should, on such an occasion, have made such a speech. The country is excited from one end to the other by a

great question of principle. On that question the Government has taken one side. The honourable Member

stands forth as the chosen and trusted champion of a great party which takes the other side. We expected to

hear from him a full exposition of the views of those in whose name he speaks. But, to our astonishment, he

has scarcely even alluded to the controversy which has divided the whole nation. He has entertained us with

sarcasms and personal anecdotes: he has talked much about matters of mere detail: but I must say that, after

listening with close attention to all that he has said, I am quite unable to discover whether, on the only

important point which is in issue, he agrees with us or with that large and active body of Nonconformists

which is diametrically opposed to us. He has sate down without dropping one word from which it is possible

to discover whether he thinks that education is or that it is not a matter with which the State ought to

interfere. Yet that is the question about which the whole nation has, during several weeks, been writing,

reading, speaking, hearing, thinking, petitioning, and on which it is now the duty of Parliament to pronounce

a decision. That question once settled, there will be, I believe, very little room for dispute. If it be not

competent to the State to interfere with the education of the people, the mode of interference recommended

by the Committee of Council must of course be condemned. If it be the right and the duty of the State to

make provision for the education of the people, the objections made to our plan will, in a very few words, be

I shall take a course very different from that which has been taken by the honourable gentleman. I shall in the

clearest manner profess my opinion on that great question of principle which he has studiously evaded; and

I believe, Sir, that it is the right and the duty of the State to provide means of education for the common

people. This proposition seems to me to be implied in every definition that has ever yet been given of the

functions of a government. About the extent of those functions there has been much difference of opinion

among ingenious men. There are some who hold that it is the business of a government to meddle with every

part of the system of human life, to regulate trade by bounties and prohibitions, to regulate expenditure by

sumptuary laws, to regulate literature by a censorship, to regulate religion by an inquisition. Others go to the

opposite extreme, and assign to government a very narrow sphere of action. But the very narrowest sphere

that ever was assigned to governments by any school of political philosophy is quite wide enough for my

purpose. On one point all the disputants are agreed. They unanimously acknowledge that it is the duty of

every government to take order for giving security to the persons and property of the members of the

This being admitted, can it be denied that the education of the common people is a most effectual means of

securing our persons and our property? Let Adam Smith answer that question for me. His authority, always

high, is, on this subject, entitled to peculiar respect, because he extremely disliked busy, prying, interfering

governments. He was for leaving literature, arts, sciences, to take care of themselves. He was not friendly to

ecclesiastical establishments. He was of opinion, that the State ought not to meddle with the education of the

rich. But he has expressly told us that a distinction is to be made, particularly in a commercial and highly

civilised society, between the education of the rich and the education of the poor. The education of the poor,

he says, is a matter which deeply concerns the commonwealth. Just as the magistrate ought to interfere for the

purpose of preventing the leprosy from spreading among the people, he ought to interfere for the purpose of

stopping the progress of the moral distempers which are inseparable from ignorance. Nor can this duty be

neglected without danger to the public peace. If you leave the multitude uninstructed, there is serious risk that

religious animosities may produce the most dreadful disorders. The most dreadful disorders! Those are Adam

Smith's own words; and prophetic words they were. Scarcely had he given this warning to our rulers when his

prediction was fulfilled in a manner never to be forgotten. I speak of the No Popery riots of 1780. I do not

know that I could find in all history a stronger proof of the proposition, that the ignorance of the common

people makes the property, the limbs, the lives of all classes insecure. Without the shadow of a grievance, at

the summons of a madman, a hundred thousand people rise in insurrection. During a whole week, there is

anarchy in the greatest and wealthiest of European cities. The parliament is besieged. Your predecessor sits

trembling in his chair, and expects every moment to see the door beaten in by the ruffians whose roar he

hears all round the house. The peers are pulled out of their coaches. The bishops in their lawn are forced to

fly over the tiles. The chapels of foreign ambassadors, buildings made sacred by the law of nations, are

destroyed. The house of the Chief Justice is demolished. The little children of the Prime Minister are taken

out of their beds and laid in their night clothes on the table of the Horse Guards, the only safe asylum from

the fury of the rabble. The prisons are opened. Highwaymen, housebreakers, murderers, come forth to swell

the mob by which they have been set free. Thirtysix fires are blazing at once in London. Then comes the

retribution. Count up all the wretches who were shot, who were hanged, who were crushed, who drank

themselves to death at the rivers of gin which ran down Holborn Hill; and you will find that battles have been

lost and won with a smaller sacrifice of life. And what was the cause of this calamity, a calamity which, in

the history of London, ranks with the great plague and the great fire? The cause was the ignorance of a

population which had been suffered, in the neighbourhood of palaces, theatres, temples, to grow up as rude

and stupid as any tribe of tattooed cannibals in New Zealand, I might say as any drove of beasts in Smithfield

The instance is striking: but it is not solitary. To the same cause are to be ascribed the riots of Nottingham,

the sack of Bristol, all the outrages of Ludd, and Swing, and Rebecca, beautiful and costly machinery broken

to pieces in Yorkshire, barns and haystacks blazing in Kent, fences and buildings pulled down in Wales.

Could such things have been done in a country in which the mind of the labourer had been opened by

education, in which he had been taught to find pleasure in the exercise of his intellect, taught to revere his

Maker, taught to respect legitimate authority, and taught at the same time to seek the redress of real wrongs

This then is my argument. It is the duty of Government to protect our persons and property from danger. The

gross ignorance of the common people is a principal cause of danger to our persons and property. Therefore,

it is the duty of Government to take care that the common people shall not be grossly ignorant.

And what is the alternative? It is universally allowed that, by some means, Government must protect our

persons and property. If you take away education, what means do you leave? You leave means such as only

necessity can justify, means which inflict a fearful amount of pain, not only on the guilty, but on the innocent

who are connected with the guilty. You leave guns and bayonets, stocks and whippingposts, treadmills,

solitary cells, penal colonies, gibbets. See then how the case stands. Here is an end which, as we all agree,

governments are bound to attain. There are only two ways of attaining it. One of those ways is by making

men better, and wiser, and happier. The other way is by making them infamous and miserable. Can it be

doubted which way we ought to prefer? Is it not strange, is it not almost incredible, that pious and benevolent

men should gravely propound the doctrine that the magistrate is bound to punish and at the same time bound

not to teach? To me it seems quite clear that whoever has a right to hang has a right to educate. Can we think

without shame and remorse that more than half of those wretches who have been tied up at Newgate in our

time might have been living happily, that more than half of those who are now in our gaols might have been

enjoying liberty and using that liberty well, that such a hell on earth as Norfolk Island, need never have

existed, if we had expended in training honest men but a small part of what we have expended in hunting and

I would earnestly entreat every gentleman to look at a report which is contained in the Appendix to the First

Volume of the Minutes of the Committee of Council. I speak of the report made by Mr Seymour

Tremenheare on the state of that part of Monmouthshire which is inhabited by a population chiefly employed

in mining. He found that, in this district, towards the close of 1839, out of eleven thousand children who were

of an age to attend school, eight thousand never went to any school at all, and that most of the remaining

three thousand might almost as well have gone to no school as to the squalid hovels in which men who ought

themselves to have been learners pretended to teach. In general these men had only one qualification for their

employment; and that was their utter unfitness for every other employment. They were disabled miners, or

broken hucksters. In their schools all was stench, and noise, and confusion. Now and then the clamour of the

boys was silenced for two minutes by the furious menaces of the master; but it soon broke out again. The

instruction given was of the lowest kind. Not one school in ten was provided with a single map. This is the

way in which you suffered the minds of a great population to be formed. And now for the effects of your

negligence. The barbarian inhabitants of this region rise in an insane rebellion against the Government. They

come pouring down their valleys to Newport. They fire on the Queen's troops. They wound a magistrate. The

soldiers fire in return; and too many of these wretched men pay with their lives the penalty of their crime. But

is the crime theirs alone? Is it strange that they should listen to the only teaching that they had? How can you,

who took no pains to instruct them, blame them for giving ear to the demagogue who took pains to delude

them? We put them down, of course. We punished them. We had no choice. Order must be maintained;

property must be protected; and, since we had omitted to take the best way of keeping these people quiet, we

were under the necessity of keeping them quiet by the dread of the sword and the halter. But could any

necessity be more cruel? And which of us would run the risk of being placed under such necessity a second

I say, therefore, that the education of the people is not only a means, but the best means, of attaining that

which all allow to be a chief end of government; and, if this be so, it passes my faculties to understand how

any man can gravely contend that Government has nothing to do with the education of the people.

My confidence in my opinion is strengthened when I recollect that I hold that opinion in common with all the

greatest lawgivers, statesmen, and political philosophers of all nations and ages, with all the most illustrious

champions of civil and spiritual freedom, and especially with those men whose names were once held in the

highest veneration by the Protestant Dissenters of England. I might cite many of the most venerable names of

the old world; but I would rather cite the example of that country which the supporters of the Voluntary

system here are always recommending to us as a pattern. Go back to the days when the little society which

has expanded into the opulent and enlightened commonwealth of Massachusetts began to exist. Our modern

Dissenters will scarcely, I think, venture to speak contumeliously of those Puritans whose spirit Laud and his

High Commission Court could not subdue, of those Puritans who were willing to leave home and kindred,

and all the comforts and refinements of civilised life, to cross the ocean, to fix their abode in forests among

wild beasts and wild men, rather than commit the sin of performing, in the House of God, one gesture which

they believed to be displeasing to Him. Did those brave exiles think it inconsistent with civil or religious

freedom that the State should take charge of the education of the people? No, Sir; one of the earliest laws

enacted by the Puritan colonists was that every township, as soon as the Lord had increased it to the number

of fifty houses, should appoint one to teach all children to write and read, and that every township of a

hundred houses should set up a grammar school. Nor have the descendants of those who made this law ever

ceased to hold that the public authorities were bound to provide the means of public instruction. Nor is this

doctrine confined to New England. "Educate the people" was the first admonition addressed by Penn to the

colony which he founded. "Educate the people" was the legacy of Washington to the nation which he had

saved. "Educate the people" was the unceasing exhortation of Jefferson; and I quote Jefferson with peculiar

pleasure, because of all the eminent men that have ever lived, Adam Smith himself not excepted, Jefferson

was the one who most abhorred everything like meddling on the part of governments. Yet the chief business

of his later years was to establish a good system of State education in Virginia.

And, against such authority as this, what have you who take the other side to show? Can you mention a single

great philosopher, a single man distinguished by his zeal for liberty, humanity, and truth, who, from the

beginning of the world down to the time of this present Parliament, ever held your doctrines? You can oppose

to the unanimous voice of all the wise and good, of all ages, and of both hemispheres, nothing but a clamour

which was first heard a few months ago, a clamour in which you cannot join without condemning, not only

This new theory of politics has at least the merit of originality. It may be fairly stated thus. All men have

hitherto been utterly in the wrong as to the nature and objects of civil government. The great truth, hidden

from every preceding generation, and at length revealed, in the year 1846, to some highly respectable

ministers and elders of dissenting congregations, is this. Government is simply a great hangman. Government

ought to do nothing except by harsh and degrading means. The one business of Government is to handcuff,

and lock up, and scourge, and shoot, and stab, and strangle. It is odious tyranny in a government to attempt to

prevent crime by informing the understanding and elevating the moral feeling of a people. A statesman may

see hamlets turned, in the course of one generation, into great seaport towns and manufacturing towns. He

may know that on the character of the vast population which is collected in those wonderful towns, depends

the prosperity, the peace, the very existence of society. But he must not think of forming that character. He is

an enemy of public liberty if he attempts to prevent those hundreds of thousands of his countrymen from

becoming mere Yahoos. He may, indeed, build barrack after barrack to overawe them. If they break out into

insurrection, he may send cavalry to sabre them: he may mow them down with grape shot: he may hang

them, draw them, quarter them, anything but teach them. He may see, and may shudder as he sees,

throughout large rural districts, millions of infants growing up from infancy to manhood as ignorant, as mere

slaves of sensual appetite, as the beasts that perish. No matter. He is a traitor to the cause of civil and

religious freedom if he does not look on with folded arms, while absurd hopes and evil passions ripen in that

rank soil. He must wait for the day of his harvest. He must wait till the Jaquerie comes, till farm houses are

burning, till threshing machines are broken in pieces; and then begins his business, which is simply to send

one poor ignorant savage to the county gaol, and another to the antipodes, and a third to the gallows.

Such, Sir, is the new theory of government which was first propounded, in the year 1846, by some men of

high note among the Nonconformists of England. It is difficult to understand how men of excellent abilities

and excellent intentionsand there are, I readily admit, such men among those who hold this theorycan

have fallen into so absurd and pernicious an error. One explanation only occurs to me. This is, I am inclined

to believe, an instance of the operation of the great law of reaction. We have just come victorious out of a

long and fierce contest for the liberty of trade. While that contest was undecided, much was said and written

about the advantages of free competition, and about the danger of suffering the State to regulate matters

which should be left to individuals. There has consequently arisen in the minds of persons who are led by

words, and who are little in the habit of making distinctions, a disposition to apply to political questions and

moral questions principles which are sound only when applied to commercial questions. These people, not

content with having forced the Government to surrender a province wrongfully usurped, now wish to wrest

from the Government a domain held by a right which was never before questioned, and which cannot be

questioned with the smallest show of reason. "If," they say, "free competition is a good thing in trade, it must

surely be a good thing in education. The supply of other commodities, of sugar, for example, is left to adjust

itself to the demand; and the consequence is, that we are better supplied with sugar than if the Government

undertook to supply us. Why then should we doubt that the supply of instruction will, without the

Never was there a more false analogy. Whether a man is well supplied with sugar is a matter which concerns

himself alone. But whether he is well supplied with instruction is a matter which concerns his neighbours and

the State. If he cannot afford to pay for sugar, he must go without sugar. But it is by no means fit that,

because he cannot afford to pay for education, he should go without education. Between the rich and their

instructors there may, as Adam Smith says, be free trade. The supply of music masters and Italian masters

may be left to adjust itself to the demand. But what is to become of the millions who are too poor to procure

without assistance the services of a decent schoolmaster? We have indeed heard it said that even these

millions will be supplied with teachers by the free competition of benevolent individuals who will vie with

each other in rendering this service to mankind. No doubt there are many benevolent individuals who spend

their time and money most laudably in setting up and supporting schools; and you may say, if you please, that

there is, among these respectable persons, a competition to do good. But do not be imposed upon by words.

Do not believe that this competition resembles the competition which is produced by the desire of wealth and

by the fear of ruin. There is a great difference, be assured, between the rivalry of philanthropists and the

rivalry of grocers. The grocer knows that, if his wares are worse than those of other grocers, he shall soon go

before the Bankrupt Court, and his wife and children will have no refuge but the workhouse: he knows that, if

his shop obtains an honourable celebrity, he shall be able to set up a carriage and buy a villa: and this

knowledge impels him to exertions compared with which the exertions of even very charitable people to

serve the poor are but languid. It would be strange infatuation indeed to legislate on the supposition that a

Unless, Sir, I greatly deceive myself, those arguments, which show that the Government ought not to leave to

private people the task of providing for the national defence, will equally show that the Government ought

not to leave to private people the task of providing for national education. On this subject, Mr Hume has laid

down the general law with admirable good sense and perspicuity. I mean David Hume, not the Member for

Montrose, though that honourable gentleman will, I am confident, assent to the doctrine propounded by his

illustrious namesake. David Hume, Sir, justly says that most of the arts and trades which exist in the world

produce so much advantage and pleasure to individuals, that the magistrate may safely leave it to individuals

to encourage those arts and trades. But he adds that there are callings which, though they are highly useful,

nay, absolutely necessary to society, yet do not administer to the peculiar pleasure or profit of any individual.

The military calling is an instance. Here, says Hume, the Government must interfere. It must take on itself to

regulate these callings, and to stimulate the industry of the persons who follow these callings by pecuniary

Now, Sir, it seems to me that, on the same principle on which Government ought to superintend and to

reward the soldier, Government ought to superintend and to reward the schoolmaster. I mean, of course, the

schoolmaster of the common people. That his calling is useful, that his calling is necessary, will hardly be

denied. Yet it is clear that his services will not be adequately remunerated if he is left to be remunerated by

those whom he teaches, or by the voluntary contributions of the charitable. Is this disputed? Look at the facts.

You tell us that schools will multiply and flourish exceedingly, if the Government will only abstain from

interfering with them. Has not the Government long abstained from interfering with them? Has not

everything been left, through many years, to individual exertion? If it were true that education, like trade,

thrives most where the magistrate meddles least, the common people of England would now be the best

educated in the world. Our schools would be model schools. Every one would have a well chosen little

library, excellent maps, a small but neat apparatus for experiments in natural philosophy. A grown person

unable to read and write would be pointed at like Giant O'Brien or the Polish Count. Our schoolmasters

would be as eminently expert in all that relates to teaching as our cutlers, our cottonspinners, our engineers

are allowed to be in their respective callings. They would, as a class, be held in high consideration; and their

gains would be such that it would be easy to find men of respectable character and attainments to fill up

Now, is this the case? Look at the charges of the judges, at the resolutions of the grand juries, at the reports of

public officers, at the reports of voluntary associations. All tell the same sad and ignominious story. Take the

reports of the Inspectors of Prisons. In the House of Correction at Hertford, of seven hundred prisoners one

half could not read at all; only eight could read and write well. Of eight thousand prisoners who had passed

through Maidstone Gaol only fifty could read and write well. In Coldbath Fields Prison, the proportion that

could read and write well seems to have been still smaller. Turn from the registers of prisoners to the registers

of marriages. You will find that about a hundred and thirty thousand couples were married in the year 1844.

More than forty thousand of the bridegrooms and more than sixty thousand of the brides did not sign their

names, but made their marks. Nearly one third of the men and nearly one half of the women, who are in the

prime of life, who are to be the parents of the Englishmen of the next generation, who are to bear a chief part

in forming the minds of the Englishmen of the next generation, cannot write their own names. Remember,

too, that, though people who cannot write their own names must be grossly ignorant, people may write their

own names and yet have very little knowledge. Tens of thousands who were able to write their names had in

all probability received only the wretched education of a common day school. We know what such a school

too often is; a room crusted with filth, without light, without air, with a heap of fuel in one corner and a brood

of chickens in another; the only machinery of instruction a dogeared spellingbook and a broken slate; the

masters the refuse of all other callings, discarded footmen, ruined pedlars, men who cannot work a sum in the

rule of three, men who cannot write a common letter without blunders, men who do not know whether the

earth is a sphere or a cube, men who do not know whether Jerusalem is in Asia or America. And to such men,

men to whom none of us would entrust the key of his cellar, we have entrusted the mind of the rising

generation, and, with the mind of the rising generation the freedom, the happiness, the glory of our country.

Do you question the accuracy of this description? I will produce evidence to which I am sure that you will not

venture to take an exception. Every gentleman here knows, I suppose, how important a place the

Congregational Union holds among the Nonconformists, and how prominent a part Mr Edward Baines has

taken in opposition to State education. A Committee of the Congregational Union drew up last year a report

on the subject of education. That report was received by the Union; and the person who moved that it should

be received was Mr Edward Baines. That report contains the following passage: "If it were necessary to

disclose facts to such an assembly as this, as to the ignorance and debasement of the neglected portions of our

population in towns and rural districts, both adult and juvenile, it could easily be done. Private information

communicated to the Board, personal observation and investigation of the various localities, with the

published documents of the Registrar General, and the reports of the state of prisons in England and Wales,

published by order of the House of Commons, would furnish enough to make us modest in speaking of what

has been done for the humbler classes, and make us ashamed that the sons of the soil of England should have

been so long neglected, and should present to the enlightened traveller from other shores such a sad spectacle

of neglected cultivation, lost mental power, and spiritual degradation." Nothing can be more just. All the

information which I have been able to obtain bears out the statements of the Congregational Union. I do

believe that the ignorance and degradation of a large part of the community to which we belong ought to

make us ashamed of ourselves. I do believe that an enlightened traveller from New York, from Geneva, or

from Berlin, would be shocked to see so much barbarism in the close neighbourhood of so much wealth and

civilisation. But is it not strange that the very gentlemen who tell us in such emphatic language that the

people are shamefully illeducated, should yet persist in telling us that under a system of free competition the

people are certain to be excellently educated? Only this morning the opponents of our plan circulated a paper

in which they confidently predict that free competition will do all that is necessary, if we will only wait with

patience. Wait with patience! Why, we have been waiting ever since the Heptarchy. How much longer are we

to wait? Till the year 2847? Or till the year 3847? That the experiment has as yet failed you do not deny. And

why should it have failed? Has it been tried in unfavourable circumstances? Not so: it has been tried in the

richest and in the freest, and in the most charitable country in all Europe. Has it been tried on too small a

scale? Not so: millions have been subjected to it. Has it been tried during too short a time? Not so: it has been

going on during ages. The cause of the failure then is plain. Our whole system has been unsound. We have

applied the principle of free competition to a case to which that principle is not applicable.

But, Sir, if the state of the southern part of our island has furnished me with one strong argument, the state of

the northern part furnishes me with another argument, which is, if possible, still more decisive. A hundred

and fifty years ago England was one of the best governed and most prosperous countries in the world:

Scotland was perhaps the rudest and poorest country that could lay any claim to civilisation. The name of

Scotchman was then uttered in this part of the island with contempt. The ablest Scotch statesmen

contemplated the degraded state of their poorer countrymen with a feeling approaching to despair. It is

wellknown that Fletcher of Saltoun, a brave and accomplished man, a man who had drawn his sword for

liberty, who had suffered proscription and exile for liberty, was so much disgusted and dismayed by the

misery, the ignorance, the idleness, the lawlessness of the common people, that he proposed to make many

thousands of them slaves. Nothing, he thought, but the discipline which kept order and enforced exertion

among the negroes of a sugar colony, nothing but the lash and the stocks, could reclaim the vagabonds who

infested every part of Scotland from their indolent and predatory habits, and compel them to support

themselves by steady labour. He therefore, soon after the Revolution, published a pamphlet, in which he

earnestly, and, as I believe, from the mere impulse of humanity and patriotism, recommended to the Estates

of the Realm this sharp remedy, which alone, as he conceived, could remove the evil. Within a few months

after the publication of that pamphlet a very different remedy was applied. The Parliament which sate at

Edinburgh passed an act for the establishment of parochial schools. What followed? An improvement such as

the world had never seen took place in the moral and intellectual character of the people. Soon, in spite of the

rigour of the climate, in spite of the sterility of the earth, Scotland became a country which had no reason to

envy the fairest portions of the globe. Wherever the Scotchman went,and there were few parts of the world

to which he did not go,he carried his superiority with him. If he was admitted into a public office, he

worked his way up to the highest post. If he got employment in a brewery or a factory, he was soon the

foreman. If he took a shop, his trade was the best in the street. If he enlisted in the army, he became a colour

sergeant. If he went to a colony, he was the most thriving planter there. The Scotchman of the seventeenth

century had been spoken of in London as we speak of the Esquimaux. The Scotchman of the eighteenth

century was an object, not of scorn, but of envy. The cry was that, wherever he came, he got more than his

share; that, mixed with Englishmen or mixed with Irishmen, he rose to the top as surely as oil rises to the top

of water. And what had produced this great revolution? The Scotch air was still as cold, the Scotch rocks

were still as bare as ever. All the natural qualities of the Scotchman were still what they had been when

learned and benevolent men advised that he should be flogged, like a beast of burden, to his daily task. But

the State had given him an education. That education was not, it is true, in all respects what it should have

been. But such as it was, it had done more for the bleak and dreary shores of the Forth and the Clyde than the

richest of soils and the most genial of climates had done for Capua and Tarentum. Is there one member of this

House, however strongly he may hold the doctrine that the Government ought not to interfere with the

education of the people, who will stand up and say that, in his opinion, the Scotch would now have been a

happier and a more enlightened people if they had been left, during the last five generations, to find

I say then, Sir, that, if the science of Government be an experimental science, this question is decided. We are

in a condition to perform the inductive process according to the rules laid down in the Novum Organum. We

have two nations closely connected, inhabiting the same island, sprung from the same blood, speaking the

same language, governed by the same Sovereign and the same Legislature, holding essentially the same

religious faith, having the same allies and the same enemies. Of these two nations one was, a hundred and

fifty years ago, as respects opulence and civilisation, in the highest rank among European communities, the

other in the lowest rank. The opulent and highly civilised nation leaves the education of the people to free

competition. In the poor and half barbarous nation the education of the people is undertaken by the State. The

result is that the first are last and the last first. The common people of Scotland,it is vain to disguise the

truth,have passed the common people of England. Free competition, tried with every advantage, has

produced effects of which, as the Congregational Union tells us, we ought to be ashamed, and which must

lower us in the opinion of every intelligent foreigner. State education, tried under every disadvantage, has

produced an improvement to which it would be difficult to find a parallel in any age or country. Such an

experiment as this would be regarded as conclusive in surgery or chemistry, and ought, I think, to be regarded

These, Sir, are the reasons which have satisfied me that it is the duty of the State to educate the people. Being

firmly convinced of that truth, I shall not shrink from proclaiming it here and elsewhere, in defiance of the

loudest clamour that agitators can raise. The remainder of my task is easy. For, if the great principle for

which I have been contending is admitted, the objections which have been made to the details of our plan will

vanish fast. I will deal with those objections in the order in which they stand in the amendment moved by the

First among his objections he places the cost. Surely, Sir, no person who admits that it is our duty to train the

minds of the rising generation can think a hundred thousand pounds too large a sum for that purpose. If we

look at the matter in the lowest point of view, if we consider human beings merely as producers of wealth, the

difference between an intelligent and a stupid population, estimated in pounds, shillings, and pence, exceeds a

hundredfold the proposed outlay. Nor is this all. For every pound that you save in education, you will spend

five in prosecutions, in prisons, in penal settlements. I cannot believe that the House, having never grudged

anything that was asked for the purpose of maintaining order and protecting property by means of pain and

fear, will begin to be niggardly as soon as it is proposed to effect the same objects by making the people

The next objection made by the honourable Member to our plan is that it will increase the influence of the

Crown. This sum of a hundred thousand pounds may, he apprehends, be employed in corruption and jobbing.

Those schoolmasters who vote for ministerial candidates will obtain a share of the grant: those schoolmasters

who vote for opponents of the ministry will apply for assistance in vain. Sir, the honourable Member never

would have made this objection if he had taken the trouble to understand the minutes which he has

condemned. We propose to place this part of the public expenditure under checks which must make such

abuses as the honourable Member anticipates morally impossible. Not only will there be those ordinary

checks which are thought sufficient to prevent the misapplication of the many millions annually granted for

the army, the navy, the ordnance, the civil government: not only must the Ministers of the Crown come every

year to this House for a vote, and be prepared to render an account of the manner in which they have laid out

what had been voted in the preceding year, but, when they have satisfied the House, when they have got their

vote, they will still be unable to distribute the money at their discretion. Whatever they may do for any

schoolmaster must be done in concert with those persons who, in the district where the schoolmaster lives,

take an interest in education, and contribute out of their private means to the expense of education. When the

honourable gentleman is afraid that we shall corrupt the schoolmasters, he forgets, first, that we do not

appoint the schoolmasters; secondly, that we cannot dismiss the schoolmasters; thirdly, that managers who

are altogether independent of us can, without our consent, dismiss the schoolmasters; and, fourthly, that

without the recommendation of those managers we can give nothing to the schoolmasters. Observe, too, that

such a recommendation will not be one of those recommendations which goodnatured easy people are too apt

to give to everybody who asks; nor will it at all resemble those recommendations which the Secretary of the

Treasury is in the habit of receiving. For every pound which we pay on the recommendation of the managers,

the managers themselves must pay two pounds. They must also provide the schoolmaster with a house out of

their own funds before they can obtain for him a grant from the public funds. What chance of jobbing is there

here? It is common enough, no doubt, for a Member of Parliament who votes with Government to ask that

one of those who zealously supported him at the last election may have a place in the Excise or the Customs.

But such a member would soon cease to solicit if the answer were, "Your friend shall have a place of fifty

pounds a year, if you will give him a house and settle on him an income of a hundred a year." What chance

then, I again ask, is there of jobbing? What, say some of the dissenters of Leeds, is to prevent a Tory

Government, a High Church Government, from using this parliamentary grant to corrupt the schoolmasters of

our borough, and to induce them to use all their influence in favour of a Tory and High Church candidate?

Why, Sir, the dissenters of Leeds themselves have the power to prevent it. Let them subscribe to the schools:

let them take a share in the management of the schools: let them refuse to recommend to the committee of

Council any schoolmaster whom they suspect of having voted at any election from corrupt motives: and the

thing is done. Our plan, in truth, is made up of checks. My only doubt is whether the checks may not be

found too numerous and too stringent. On our general conduct there is the ordinary check, the parliamentary

check. And, as respects those minute details which it is impossible that this House can investigate, we shall

be checked, in every town and in every rural district, by boards consisting of independent men zealous in the

The truth is, Sir, that those who clamour most loudly against our plan, have never thought of ascertaining

what it is. I see that a gentleman, who ought to have known better, has not been ashamed publicly to tell the

world that our plan will cost the nation two millions a year, and will paralyse all the exertions of individuals

to educate the people. These two assertions are uttered in one breath. And yet, if he who made them had read

our minutes before he railed at them, he would have seen that his predictions are contradictory; that they

cannot both be fulfilled; that, if individuals do not exert themselves, the country will have to pay nothing; and

that, if the country has to pay two millions, it will be because individuals have exerted themselves with such

wonderful, such incredible vigour, as to raise four millions by voluntary contributions.

The next objection made by the honourable Member for Finsbury is that we have acted unconstitutionally,

and have encroached on the functions of Parliament. The Committee of Council he seems to consider as an

unlawful assembly. He calls it sometimes a self elected body and sometimes a selfappointed body. Sir,

these are words without meaning. The Committee is no more a selfelected body than the Board of Trade. It

is a body appointed by the Queen; and in appointing it Her Majesty has exercised, under the advice of her

responsible Ministers, a prerogative as old as the monarchy. But, says the honourable Member, the

constitutional course would have been to apply for an Act of Parliament. On what ground? Nothing but an

Act of Parliament can legalise that which is illegal. But whoever heard of an Act of Parliament to legalise

what was already beyond all dispute legal? Of course, if we wished to send aliens out of the country, or to

retain disaffected persons in custody without bringing them to trial, we must obtain an Act of Parliament

empowering us to do so. But why should we ask for an Act of Parliament to empower us to do what anybody

may do, what the honourable Member for Finsbury may do? Is there any doubt that he or anybody else may

subscribe to a school, give a stipend to a monitor, or settle a retiring pension on a preceptor who has done

good service? What any of the Queen's subjects may do the Queen may do. Suppose that her privy purse were

so large that she could afford to employ a hundred thousand pounds in this beneficent manner; would an Act

of Parliament be necessary to enable her to do so? Every part of our plan may lawfully be carried into

execution by any person, Sovereign or subject, who has the inclination and the money. We have not the

money; and for the money we come, in a strictly constitutional manner, to the House of Commons. The

course which we have taken is in conformity with all precedent, as well as with all principle. There are

military schools. No Act of Parliament was necessary to authorise the establishing of such schools. All that

was necessary was a grant of money to defray the charge. When I was Secretary at War it was my duty to

bring under Her Majesty's notice the situation of the female children of her soldiers. Many such children

accompanied every regiment, and their education was grievously neglected. Her Majesty was graciously

pleased to sign a warrant by which a girls' school was attached to each corps. No Act of Parliament was

necessary. For to set up a school where girls might be taught to read, and write, and sew, and cook, was

perfectly legal already. I might have set it up myself, if I had been rich enough. All that I had to ask from

Parliament was the money. But I ought to beg pardon for arguing a point so clear.

The next objection to our plans is that they interfere with the religious convictions of Her Majesty's subjects.

It has been sometimes insinuated, but it has never been proved, that the Committee of Council has shown

undue favour to the Established Church. Sir, I have carefully read and considered the minutes; and I wish that

every man who has exerted his eloquence against them had done the same. I say that I have carefully read and

considered them, and that they seem to me to have been drawn up with exemplary impartiality. The benefits

which we offer we offer to people of all religious persuasions alike. The dissenting managers of schools will

have equal authority with the managers who belong to the Church. A boy who goes to meeting will be just as

eligible to be a monitor, and will receive just as large a stipend, as if he went to the cathedral. The

schoolmaster who is a nonconformist and the schoolmaster who is a conformist will enjoy the same

emoluments, and will, after the same term of service, obtain, on the same conditions, the same retiring

pension. I wish that some gentleman would, instead of using vague phrases about religious liberty and the

rights of conscience, answer this plain question. Suppose that in one of our large towns there are four schools,

a school connected with the Church, a school connected with the Independents, a Baptist school, and a

Wesleyan school; what encouragement, pecuniary or honorary, will, by our plan, be given to the school

connected with the Church, and withheld from any of the other three schools? Is it not indeed plain that, if by

neglect or maladministration the Church school should get into a bad state, while the dissenting schools

flourish, the dissenting schools will receive public money and the Church school will receive none?

It is true, I admit, that in rural districts which are too poor to support more than one school, the religious

community to which the majority belongs will have an advantage over other religious communities. But this

is not our fault. If we are as impartial as it is possible to be, you surely do not expect more. If there should be

a parish containing nine hundred churchmen and a hundred dissenters, if there should, in that parish, be a

school connected with the Church, if the dissenters in that parish should be too poor to set up another school,

undoubtedly the school connected with the Church will, in that parish, get all that we give; and the dissenters

will get nothing. But observe that there is no partiality to the Church, as the Church, in this arrangement. The

churchmen get public money, not because they are churchmen, but because they are the majority. The

dissenters get nothing, not because they are dissenters, but because they are a small minority. There are

districts where the case will be reversed, where there will be dissenting schools, and no Church schools. In

such cases the dissenters will get what we have to give, and the churchmen will get nothing.

But, Sir, I ought not to say that a churchman gets nothing by a system which gives a good education to

dissenters, or that a dissenter gets nothing by a system which gives a good education to churchmen. We are

not, I hope, so much conformists, or so much nonconformists, as to forget that we are Englishmen and

Christians. We all, Churchmen, Presbyterians, Independents, Baptists, Methodists, have an interest in this,

that the great body of the people should be rescued from ignorance and barbarism. I mentioned Lord George

Gordon's mob. That mob began, it is true, with the Roman Catholics: but, long before the tumults were over,

there was not a respectable Protestant in London who was not in fear for his house, for his limbs, for his life,

for the lives of those who were dearest to him. The honourable Member for Finsbury says that we call on men

to pay for an education from which they derive no benefit. I deny that there is one honest and industrious man

in the country who derives no benefit from living among honest and industrious neighbours rather than

among rioters and vagabonds. This matter is as much a matter of common concern as the defence of our

coast. Suppose that I were to say, "Why do you tax me to fortify Portsmouth? If the people of Portsmouth

think that they cannot be safe without bastions and ravelins, let the people of Portsmouth pay the engineers

and masons. Why am I to bear the charge of works from which I derive no advantage?" You would answer,

and most justly, that there is no man in the island who does not derive advantage from these works, whether

he resides within them or not. And, as every man, in whatever part of the island he may live, is bound to

contribute to the support of those arsenals which are necessary for our common security, so is every man, to

whatever sect he may belong, bound to contribute to the support of those schools on which, not less than on

I now come to the last words of the amendment. The honourable Member for Finsbury is apprehensive that

our plan may interfere with the civil rights of Her Majesty's subjects. How a man's civil rights can be

prejudiced by his learning to read and write, to multiply and divide, or even by his obtaining some knowledge

of history and geography, I do not very well apprehend. One thing is clear, that persons sunk in that

ignorance in which, as we are assured by the Congregational Union, great numbers of our countrymen are

sunk, can be free only in name. It is hardly necessary for us to appoint a Select Committee for the purpose of

inquiring whether knowledge be the ally or the enemy of liberty. He is, I must say, but a shortsighted friend

of the common people who is eager to bestow on them a franchise which would make them allpowerful, and

yet would withhold from them that instruction without which their power must be a curse to themselves and

This, Sir, is my defence. From the clamour of our accusers I appeal with confidence to the country to which

we must, in no long time, render an account of our stewardship. I appeal with still more confidence to future

generations, which, while enjoying all the blessings of an impartial and efficient system of public instruction,

will find it difficult to believe that the authors of that system should have had to struggle with a vehement and

pertinacious opposition, and still more difficult to believe that such an opposition was offered in the name of

At the election of Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow, in November, 1848, the votes stood thus: Mr

Macaulay, 255; Colonel Mure, 203. The installation took place on the twentyfirst of March, 1849; and after

My first duty, Gentlemen, is to return you my thanks for the honour which you have conferred on me. You

well know that it was wholly unsolicited; and I can assure you that it was wholly unexpected. I may add that,

if I had been invited to become a candidate for your suffrages, I should respectfully have declined the

invitation. My predecessor, whom I am so happy as to be able to call my friend, declared from this place last

year in language which well became him, that he would not have come forward to displace so eminent a

statesman as Lord John Russell. I can with equal truth affirm that I would not have come forward to displace

so estimable a gentleman and so accomplished a scholar as Colonel Mure. But Colonel Mure felt last year

that it was not for him, and I now feel that it is not for me, to question the propriety of your decision on a

point of which, by the constitution of your body, you are the judges. I therefore gratefully accept the office to

which I have been called, fully purposing to use whatever powers belong to it with a single view to the

I am not using a mere phrase of course, when I say that the feelings with which I bear apart in the ceremony

of this day are such as I find it difficult to utter in words. I do not think it strange that, when that great master

of eloquence, Edmund Burke, stood where I now stand, he faltered and remained mute. Doubtless the

multitude of thoughts which rushed into his mind was such as even he could not easily arrange or express. In

truth there are few spectacles more striking or affecting than that which a great historical place of education

presents on a solemn public day. There is something strangely interesting in the contrast between the

venerable antiquity of the body and the fresh and ardent youth of the great majority of the members.

Recollections and hopes crowd upon us together. The past and the future are at once brought close to us. Our

thoughts wander back to the time when the foundations of this ancient building were laid, and forward to the

time when those whom it is our office to guide and to teach will be the guides and teachers of our posterity.

On the present occasion we may, with peculiar propriety, give such thoughts their course. For it has chanced

that my magistracy has fallen on a great secular epoch. This is the four hundredth year of the existence of

your University. At such jubilees, jubilees of which no individual sees more than one, it is natural, and it is

good, that a society like this, a society which survives all the transitory parts of which it is composed, a

society which has a corporate existence and a perpetual succession, should review its annals, should retrace

the stages of its growth from infancy to maturity, and should try to find, in the experience of generations

which have passed away, lessons which may be profitable to generations yet unborn.

The retrospect is full of interest and instruction. Perhaps it may be doubted whether, since the Christian era,

there has been any point of time more important to the highest interests of mankind than that at which the

existence of your University commenced. It was at the moment of a great destruction and of a great creation.

Your society was instituted just before the empire of the East perished; that strange empire which, dragging

on a languid life through the great age of darkness, connected together the two great ages of light; that empire

which, adding nothing to our stores of knowledge, and producing not one man great in letters, in science, or

in art, yet preserved, in the midst of barbarism, those masterpieces of Attic genius, which the highest minds

still contemplate, and long will contemplate, with admiring despair. And at that very time, while the fanatical

Moslem were plundering the churches and palaces of Constantinople, breaking in pieces Grecian sculptures,

and giving to the flames piles of Grecian eloquence, a few humble German artisans, who little knew that they

were calling into existence a power far mightier than that of the victorious Sultan, were busied in cutting and

setting the first types. The University came into existence just in time to witness the disappearance of the last

trace of the Roman empire, and to witness the publication of the earliest printed book.

At this conjuncture, a conjuncture of unrivalled interest in the history of letters, a man, never to be mentioned

without reverence by every lover of letters, held the highest place in Europe. Our just attachment to that

Protestant faith to which our country owes so much must not prevent us from paying the tribute which, on

this occasion, and in this place, justice and gratitude demand, to the founder of the University of Glasgow, the

greatest of the restorers of learning, Pope Nicholas the Fifth. He had sprung from the common people; but his

abilities and his erudition had early attracted the notice of the great. He had studied much and travelled far.

He had visited Britain, which, in wealth and refinement, was to his native Tuscany what the back settlements

of America now are to Britain. He had lived with the merchant princes of Florence, those men who first

ennobled trade by making trade the ally of philosophy, of eloquence, and of taste. It was he who, under the

protection of the munificent and discerning Cosmo, arranged the first public library that Modern Europe

possessed. From privacy your founder rose to a throne; but on the throne he never forgot the studies which

had been his delight in privacy. He was the centre of an illustrious group, composed partly of the last great

scholars of Greece, and partly of the first great scholars of Italy, Theodore Gaza and George of Trebizond,

Bessarion and Filelfo, Marsilio Ficino and Poggio Bracciolini. By him was founded the Vatican library, then

and long after the most precious and the most extensive collection of books in the world. By him were

carefully preserved the most valuable intellectual treasures which had been snatched from the wreck of the

Byzantine empire. His agents were to be found everywhere, in the bazaars of the farthest East, in the

monasteries of the farthest West, purchasing or copying wormeaten parchments, on which were traced

words worthy of immortality. Under his patronage were prepared accurate Latin versions of many precious

remains of Greek poets and philosophers. But no department of literature owes so much to him as history. By

him were introduced to the knowledge of Western Europe two great and unrivalled models of historical

composition, the work of Herodotus and the work of Thucydides. By him, too, our ancestors were first made

acquainted with the graceful and lucid simplicity of Xenophon and with the manly good sense of Polybius.

It was while he was occupied with cares like these that his attention was called to the intellectual wants of

this region, a region now swarming with population, rich with culture, and resounding with the clang of

machinery, a region which now sends forth fleets laden with its admirable fabrics to the lands of which, in his

days, no geographer had ever heard, then a wild, a poor, a half barbarous tract, lying on the utmost verge of

the known world. He gave his sanction to the plan of establishing a University at Glasgow, and bestowed on

the new seat of learning all the privileges which belonged to the University of Bologna. I can conceive that a

pitying smile passed over his face as he named Bologna and Glasgow together. At Bologna he had long

studied. No spot in the world had been more favoured by nature or by art. The surrounding country was a

fruitful and sunny country, a country of cornfields and vineyards. In the city, the house of Bentivoglo bore

rule, a house which vied with the house of Medici in taste and magnificence, which has left to posterity noble

palaces and temples, and which gave a splendid patronage to arts and letters. Glasgow your founder just knew

to be a poor, a small, a rude town, a town, as he would have thought, not likely ever to be great and opulent;

for the soil, compared with the rich country at the foot of the Apennines, was barren, and the climate was

such that an Italian shuddered at the thought of it. But it is not on the fertility of the soil, it is not on the

mildness of the atmosphere, that the prosperity of nations chiefly depends. Slavery and superstition can make

Campania a land of beggars, and can change the plain of Enna into a desert. Nor is it beyond the power of

human intelligence and energy, developed by civil and spiritual freedom, to turn sterile rocks and pestilential

marshes into cities and gardens. Enlightened as your founder was, he little knew that he was himself a chief

agent in a great revolution, physical and moral, political and religious, in a revolution destined to make the

last first and the first last, in a revolution destined to invert the relative positions of Glasgow and Bologna.

We cannot, I think, better employ a few minutes than in reviewing the stages of this great change in human

The review shall be short. Indeed I cannot do better than pass rapidly from century to century. Look at the

world, then, a hundred years after the seal of Nicholas had been affixed to the instrument which called your

College into existence. We find Europe, we find Scotland especially, in the agonies of that great revolution

which we emphatically call the Reformation. The liberal patronage which Nicholas, and men like Nicholas,

had given to learning, and of which the establishment of this seat of learning is not the least remarkable

instance, had produced an effect which they had never contemplated. Ignorance was the talisman on which

their power depended; and that talisman they had themselves broken. They had called in Knowledge as a

handmaid to decorate Superstition, and their error produced its natural effect. I need not tell you what a part

the votaries of classical learning, and especially the votaries of Greek learning, the Humanists, as they were

then called, bore in the great movement against spiritual tyranny. They formed, in fact, the vanguard of that

movement. Every one of the chief Reformers I do not at this moment remember a single exceptionwas a

Humanist. Almost every eminent Humanist in the north of Europe was, according to the measure of his

uprightness and courage, a Reformer. In a Scottish University I need hardly mention the names of Knox, of

Buchanan, of Melville, of Secretary Maitland. In truth, minds daily nourished with the best literature of

Greece and Rome necessarily grew too strong to be trammelled by the cobwebs of the scholastic divinity; and

the influence of such minds was now rapidly felt by the whole community; for the invention of printing had

brought books within the reach even of yeomen and of artisans. From the Mediterranean to the Frozen Sea,

therefore, the public mind was everywhere in a ferment; and nowhere was the ferment greater than in

Scotland. It was in the midst of martyrdoms and proscriptions, in the midst of a war between power and truth,

Pass another hundred years; and we are in the midst of another revolution. The war between Popery and

Protestantism had, in this island, been terminated by the victory of Protestantism. But from that war another

war had sprung, the war between Prelacy and Puritanism. The hostile religious sects were allied,

intermingled, confounded with hostile political parties. The monarchical element of the constitution was an

object of almost exclusive devotion to the Prelatist. The popular element of the constitution was especially

dear to the Puritan. At length an appeal was made to the sword. Puritanism triumphed; but Puritanism was

already divided against itself. Independency and Republicanism were on one side, Presbyterianism and

limited Monarchy on the other. It was in the very darkest part of that dark time, it was in the midst of battles,

sieges, and executions, it was when the whole world was still aghast at the awful spectacle of a British King

standing before a judgment seat, and laying his neck on a block, it was when the mangled remains of the

Duke of Hamilton had just been laid in the tomb of his house, it was when the head of the Marquess of

Montrose had just been fixed on the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, that your University completed her second

A hundred years more; and we have at length reached the beginning of a happier period. Our civil and

religious liberties had indeed been bought with a fearful price. But they had been bought. The price had been

paid. The last battle had been fought on British ground. The last black scaffold had been set up on Tower

Hill. The evil days were over. A bright and tranquil century, a century of religious toleration, of domestic

peace, of temperate freedom, of equal justice, was beginning. That century is now closing. When we compare

it with any equally long period in the history of any other great society, we shall find abundant cause for

thankfulness to the Giver of all good. Nor is there any place in the whole kingdom better fitted to excite this

feeling than the place where we are now assembled. For in the whole kingdom we shall find no district in

which the progress of trade, of manufactures, of wealth, and of the arts of life, has been more rapid than in

Clydesdale. Your University has partaken largely of the prosperity of this city and of the surrounding region.

The security, the tranquillity, the liberty, which have been propitious to the industry of the merchant and of

the manufacturer, have been also propitious to the industry of the scholar. To the last century belong most of

the names of which you justly boast. The time would fail me if I attempted to do justice to the memory of all

the illustrious men who, during that period, taught or learned wisdom within these ancient walls;

geometricians, anatomists, jurists, philologists, metaphysicians, poets: Simpson and Hunter, Millar and

Young, Reid and Stewart; Campbell, whose coffin was lately borne to a grave in that renowned transept

which contains the dust of Chaucer, of Spenser, and of Dryden; Black, whose discoveries form an era in the

history of chemical science; Adam Smith, the greatest of all the masters of political science; James Watt, who

perhaps did more than any single man has done, since the New Atlantis of Bacon was written, to accomplish

that glorious prophecy. We now speak the language of humility when we say that the University of Glasgow

A fifth secular period is about to commence. There is no lack of alarmists who will tell you that it is about to

commence under evil auspices. But from me you must expect no such gloomy prognostications. I have heard

them too long and too constantly to be scared by them. Ever since I began to make observations on the state

of my country, I have been seeing nothing but growth, and hearing of nothing but decay. The more I

contemplate our noble institutions, the more convinced I am that they are sound at heart, that they have

nothing of age but its dignity, and that their strength is still the strength of youth. The hurricane, which has

recently overthrown so much that was great and that seemed durable, has only proved their solidity. They still

stand, august and immovable, while dynasties and churches are lying in heaps of ruin all around us. I see no

reason to doubt that, by the blessing of God on a wise and temperate policy, on a policy of which the

principle is to preserve what is good by reforming in time what is evil, our civil institutions may be preserved

unimpaired to a late posterity, and that, under the shade of our civil institutions, our academical institutions

I trust, therefore, that, when a hundred years more have run out, this ancient College will still continue to

deserve well of our country and of mankind. I trust that the installation of 1949 will be attended by a still

greater assembly of students than I have the happiness now to see before me. That assemblage, indeed, may

not meet in the place where we have met. These venerable halls may have disappeared. My successor may

speak to your successors in a more stately edifice, in a edifice which, even among the magnificent buildings

of the future Glasgow, will still be admired as a fine specimen of the architecture which flourished in the days

of the good Queen Victoria. But, though the site and the walls may be new, the spirit of the institution will, I

hope, be still the same. My successor will, I hope, be able to boast that the fifth century of the University has

even been more glorious than the fourth. He will be able to vindicate that boast by citing a long list of

eminent men, great masters of experimental science, of ancient learning, of our native eloquence, ornaments

of the senate, the pulpit and the bar. He will, I hope, mention with high honour some of my young friends

who now hear me; and he will, I also hope, be able to add that their talents and learning were not wasted on

selfish or ignoble objects, but were employed to promote the physical and moral good of their species, to

extend the empire of man over the material world, to defend the cause of civil and religious liberty against

tyrants and bigots, and to defend the cause of virtue and order against the enemies of all divine and human

I have now given utterance to a part, and to a part only, of the recollections and anticipations of which, on

this solemn occasion, my mind is full. I again thank you for the honour which you have bestowed on me; and

I assure you that, while I live, I shall never cease to take a deep interest in the welfare and fame of the body

On the second of November the Electors assembled in the Music Hall to meet the representative whom they

had, without any solicitation on his part, placed at the head of the poll. On this occasion the following Speech

Gentlemen,I thank you from my heart for this kind reception. In truth, it has almost overcome me. Your

good opinion and your good will were always very valuable to me, far more valuable than any vulgar object

of ambition, far more valuable than any office, however lucrative or dignified. In truth, no office, however

lucrative or dignified, would have tempted me to do what I have done at your summons, to leave again the

happiest and most tranquil of all retreats for the bustle of political life. But the honour which you have

conferred upon me, an honour of which the greatest men might well be proud, an honour which it is in the

power only of a free people to bestow, has laid on me such an obligation that I should have thought it

ingratitude, I should have thought it pusillanimity, not to make at least an effort to serve you.

And here, Gentlemen, we meet again in kindness after a long separation. It is more than five years since I last

stood in this very place; a large part of human life. There are few of us on whom those five years have not set

their mark, few circles from which those five years have not taken away what can never be replaced. Even in

this multitude of friendly faces I look in vain for some which would on this day have been lighted up with joy

and kindness. I miss one venerable man, who, before I was born, in evil times, in times of oppression and of

corruption, had adhered, with almost solitary fidelity, to the cause of freedom, and whom I knew in advanced

age, but still in the full vigour of mind and body, enjoying the respect and gratitude of his fellow citizens. I

should, indeed, be most ungrateful if I could, on this day, forget Sir James Craig, his public spirit, his

judicious counsel, his fatherly kindness to myself. And Jeffreywith what an effusion of generous affection

he would on this day, have welcomed me back to Edinburgh! He too is gone; but the remembrance of him is

one of the many ties which bind me to the city once dear to his heart, and still inseparably associated with his

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

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, pre eminent 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 counterrevolutions, 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

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 reopened 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 twentyfive years, four hundred

thousand. Some of these new electors will, of course, die off in twentyfive 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 aday 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 DerbyWalpole 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 aboutI do not say Lord John Russell's imprudencebut 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 twentyone, 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.

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

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

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

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

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

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 wellknown 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

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 fortyeight 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

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

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 shortsighted

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

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

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 largeminded 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 tomorrow 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 exChancellors, 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,

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

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. Then, by your own admission, there are a few

seats in this House which eminent judges have filled and may fill without any unseemly condescension. But it

would be most unjust, and in me, especially, most ungrateful, to compliment the universities at the expense of

other constituent bodies. I am one of many members who know by experience that a generosity and a

delicacy of sentiment which would do honour to any seat of learning may be found among the ten pound

householders of our great cities. And, Sir, as to the counties, need we look further than to your chair? It is of

as much importance that you should punctiliously preserve your dignity as that the Master of the Rolls should

punctiliously preserve his dignity. If you had, at the last election, done anything inconsistent with the

integrity, with the gravity, with the suavity of temper which so eminently qualify you to preside over our

deliberations, your public usefulness would have been seriously diminished. But the great county which does

itself honour by sending you to the House required from you nothing unbecoming your character, and would

have felt itself degraded by your degradation. And what reason is there to doubt that other constituent bodies

would act as justly and considerately towards a judge distinguished by uprightness and ability as Hampshire

One very futile argument only remains to be noticed. It is said that we ought to be consistent; and that, having

turned the Judge of the Admiralty out of the House, we ought to send the Master of the Rolls after him. I

admit, Sir, that our system is at present very anomalous. But it is better that a system should be anomalous

than that it should be uniformly and consistently bad. You have entered on a wrong course. My advice is first

that you stop, and secondly that you retrace your steps. The time is not far distant when it will be necessary

for us to revise the constitution of this House. On that occasion, it will be part of our duty to reconsider the

rule which determines what public functionaries shall be admitted to sit here, and what public functionaries

shall be excluded. That rule is, I must say, singularly absurd. It is this, that no person who holds any office

created since the twentyfifth of October, 1705, shall be a member of the House of Commons. Nothing can

be more unreasonable or more inconvenient. In 1705, there were two Secretaries of State and two Under

Secretaries. Consequently, to this day, only two Secretaries of State and two Under Secretaries can sit among

us. Suppose that the Home Secretary and the Colonial Secretary are members of this House, and that the

office of Foreign Secretary becomes vacant. In that case, no member of this House, whatever may be his

qualifications, his fame in diplomacy, his knowledge of all the politics of the Courts of Europe, can be

appointed. Her Majesty must give the Admiralty to the commoner who is, of all her subjects, fittest for the

Foreign Office, and the seals of the Foreign Office to some peer who would perhaps be fitter for the

Admiralty. Again, the Postmaster General cannot sit in this House. Yet why not? He always comes in and

goes out with the Government: he is often a member of the Cabinet; and I believe that he is, of all public

functionaries, the Chancellor of the Exchequer alone excepted, the one whom it would be most convenient to

have here. I earnestly hope that, before long, this whole subject will be taken into serious consideration. As to

the judges, the rule which I should wish to see laid down is very simple. I would admit into this House any

judge whom the people might elect, unless there were some special reason against admitting him. There is a

special reason against admitting any Irish or Scotch judge. Such a judge cannot attend this House without

ceasing to attend his court. There is a special reason against admitting the Judges of the Queen's Bench and of

the Common Pleas, and the Barons of the Exchequer. They are summoned to the House of Lords; and they sit

there: their assistance is absolutely necessary to enable that House to discharge its functions as the highest

court of appeal; and it would manifestly be both inconvenient and derogatory to our dignity that members of

our body should be at the beck and call of the peers. I see no special reason for excluding the Master of the

Rolls; and I would, therefore, leave our door open to him. I would open it to the Judge of the Admiralty, who

has been most unwisely excluded. I would open it to other great judicial officers who are now excluded solely

because their offices did not exist in 1705, particularly to the two Lords Justices, and the three Vice

Chancellors. In this way, we should, I am convinced, greatly facilitate the important and arduous work of law

reform; we would raise the character of this House: and I need not say that with the character of this House

must rise or fall the estimation in which representative institutions are held throughout the world. But,

whether the extensive changes which I have recommended shall be thought desirable or not, I trust that we

shall reject the bill of the noble lord. I address myself to the Conservative members on your left hand; and I

ask them whether they are prepared to alter, on grounds purely theoretical, a system which has lasted during

twenty generations without producing the smallest practical evil. I turn to the Liberal members on this side;

and I ask them whether they are prepared to lower the reputation and to impair the efficiency of that branch

of the legislature which springs from the people. For myself, Sir, I hope that I am at once a Liberal and a

Conservative politician; and, in both characters, I shall give a clear and conscientious vote in favour of the

2. The Miscellaneous Writings and Speeches of Lord Macaulay, Volume IV., page = 4