ADDRESS ON THE PRINCE REGENT'S MESSAGE RELATIVE TO FRANCE.

HC Deb 25 May 1815 vol 31 cc395-447

The order of the day for taking into consideration the Prince Regent's Message of Monday last, having been read, the Speaker read the said Message accordingly. After which,

Lord Castlereagh

said, that in rising to call the attention of the House to the gracious Message of his Royal Highness the Prince Regent, and to submit to their consideration the propositions growing out of that Message, which to him appeared indispensable to the interests of the country and to the security of Europe, he was persuaded that it was not necessary for him to assure any one who heard him of the deep and awful sense which he entertartained of the duty that thus devolved upon him. If he should not enter into any extended argument on certain parts of this subject, in order to persuade the House of the expediency of the measures which ministers had thought it their duty to advise the Crown to adopt, the House would feel that it was because he was aware that the question before them was not altogether new—because he was aware that, during the long struggle in which this country had recently been engaged, during the succession of dangers which it had happily escaped, Parliament had obtained the means of ample information and of forming the most correct judgment on the points in question. He, however, trusted that if, in the course of the discussion, any thing should be advanced which might render explanation necessary, the House would allow him the indulgence usual at the close of a debate in that respect. He repeated, that however important the decision certainly was to which he should call upon the House to come, yet that, stripped of all extraneous circumstances, stripped of all the considerations which ought to form no part of their deliberations on that night, it was one on which they might pronounce, without hesitation, a judgment founded on the experience of many years.

The first topic on which he should touch, and which he wished to separate from the discussion of that night, was connected with the observation made by an hon. gentleman on a recent occasion, namely, that of the great Powers confederated in this momentous contest, Austria, not having yet come to a conclusive form of engagement, could not technically be deemed one. The objection, at the time that it was made, was not fairly founded; but he was happy to be enabled to remove it altogether, and to inform the House, that he had that morning exchanged with the ambassador of the emperor of Austria the ratification of the Treaty of the 25th of March. That instrument, therefore, was complete, and had received the final concurrence of all the parties who were concerned in it. Perhaps the House would permit him to read the note communicated to him on the part of the Austrian Government, in which the explanation of the British Government of the 8th Article of the Treaty was accepted by his Imperial Majesty. This document was signed by Prince Metternich, the Austrian minister for foreign affairs. It was as follows:—"The undersigned minister of his Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Austria, having informed his august master of the communication made to him by lord Castlereagh respecting the 8th Article of the Treaty of the 25th of March, has received his Majesty's orders to state, that the interpretation put upon that Article by the British Government is entirely conformable to the principle by which his Imperial Majesty proposes to regulate his policy during the present war. The Emperor, although irrevocably determined to direct all his efforts against Napoleon Buonaparté, in pursuance of the Treaty of concert concluded with his Allies, is nevertheless convinced that it is a duty which he owes to his subjects, as well as to the principle of the confederacy itself, not to prosecute the war for the purpose of imposing any particular government on the people of France. Whatever may be his wishes to see his Christian Majesty re-established on the throne, and solicitous as he may be to contribute with his Allies to the attainment of that desirable object, his Imperial Majesty thinks it right, therefore, to announce by this declaration, that he perfectly concurs in the explanation transmitted by the British Government on the exchange of the ratification of the Treaty, which explanation the undersigned is, on his Majesty's part, fully authorized to accept." [Hear, hear!] So much for the objection founded on the supposed hesitation of the Austrian Government.

There was another point to which he wished in this place to advert. The hon. gentleman, on the occasion to which he had alluded, seemed to suppose, that it lay on the House to pronounce a deliberate judgment upon the various topics connected with, and on the various stipulations contained in the treaties themselves; and that it would not be consistent with the course of parliamentary usage, to consider any part of the question until the House were placed in such a situation as to be enabled to form a conclusive opinion on every part of it. With respect to the time at which Messages from the Crown ought to be taken into consideration, he apprehended the practice of the House to have been invariably this—that in cases even of the gravest and most complicated nature, those messages were considered at the earliest possible period—on the very next day if they did not require to be referred to a Committee of Supply, in order to express to the Crown the opinion of Parliament upon them. The hon. gentleman might be referred to a hundred instances of this kind from the reign of Queen Anne to the present period, in which Parliament, without entering into particular discussions, had carried to the throne a general declaration of support. With respect to the case of Holland in 1794, which had been referred to by a right hon. gentleman, the Message had been brought down on Monday, and referred to the Committee of Supply on Wednesday, in which the required subsidies had been voted. In doing this, the House were not considered to be pronouncing an absolute judgment on the Treaty which had at that period been concluded; but merely giving an assurance to the Crown on the general points of its policy. During the whole of the last war the Messages from the Crown were taken into consideration on the day after their delivery, and the opinion of the House expressed on the general proposition. Nothing could be more untrue (in the parliamentary sense of the word), than that in replying to a Message from the Crown, communicating a Treaty, the House was expected to take all the parts of the Treaty into consideration, and to pronounce a definitive judgment on its details. Nothing, indeed, was so common as the presentation to the House of a Treaty, on which no parliamentary proceeding followed. The Treaty by which the peace of Amiens was concluded, afforded an instance of that nature. Nothing would be more unwise than that Parliament should give a complete opinion on any measure of national importance, without being in possession of the extent of the measures intended to be pursued by Government; but this consideration by no means precluded them from assuring the Crown of their support with reference to the general policy of of that measure, although all the arrangements connected with it had not been considered.

The noble lord said, he stated this the more emphatically, because he wished it to be distinctly understood, that the vote which he should have the honour to propose that night, would by no means involve any decision on the merits of the Treaty of the 25th of March. It was a distinct and different consideration into which the House had to enter. It was perfectly possible that arrangements might exist in the Treaty, open to animadversion. It had two distinct objects in view, the one to proclaim war against Napoleon Buonaparté. The other to maintain the Treaty of Paris—which already had received the sanction of Parliament—and the Treaty of Vienna, founded on the basis of the former. It was this latter point which he wished the House to leave wholly untouched. It was in no way at issue. He hoped they would put it entirely out of their view; for the arrangements of that Treaty not being before them, it was impossible that an opinion upon it could form a part of their vote. In saying this, however, he trusted that he should not be misapprehended. He trusted that he should not be supposed to shrink from the justification of a measure, which in his conscience he believed, after the extraordinary circumstances which had happened, after the general dislocation of Europe which had taken place, was one of the most important events that had ever occurred in the history of the world. When the proper time arrived, he hoped he should be able to convince Parliament that the stipulations of that Treaty were justly entitled to their approbation. In the year 1805 Mr. Pitt addressed a dispatch to the Russian Court, in which, contemplating the probable success of the confederacy then established, he stated what, in his opinion, ought to be some of the arrangements to be then made by the Powers of Europe, in order to prevent the recurrence of the evils which they had endured. The noble lord said, he was prepared to contend, that the arrangements recently determined upon at Vienna were still more advantageous, and still more calculated to secure the tranquillity of Europe than those contemplated on that occasion by Mr. Pitt. Mr. Pitt had not anticipated that Holland could be rendered so secure as she had been by the events of the late war. All that Mr. Pitt had contemplated for the security of Holland, was, the importance of bringing Prussia in advance to the Rhine. He had also recommended the union of Genoa with Piedmont, and other arrangements critically conformed to in the arrangements which had actually taken place. The noble lord said, he had indeed felt it his duty to ascertain how far it was possible that these proposed arrangements might be carried into effect at the earliest period at which the character of the war justified that proceeding. Soon after the Russian armies had passed the Vistula, he transmitted officially to the Court of Petersburgh, through the medium of our ambassador, a copy of Mr. Pitt's dispatch, of 1805, desiring to know if subsequent circumstances, or subsequent consideration, had induced Russia to form different views on the subject, in the event of the success of the campaign. In testimony of the solid principles on which the Court of Petersburgh acted, he had to state, that not withstanding the lapse of time and the change of circumstances, his Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Russia declared in his reply, that he in no way departed from the system laid down by Mr. Pitt in 1805, the maintenance of which appeared to him to be essential to the interests of Europe. However it might be to be lamented that any part of the arrangements which had been concluded should lead to animadversion;—however it might be to be lamented that they could not be considered with reference to one power only, but must combine the interests of all; and, consequently, that, they must be formed in the spirit of compromise rather than of dictation on the part of any particular government, it must be no small satisfaction to those who regarded with reverence the memory of Mr. Pitt, to see the system which was the subject of his fondest hopes more than realized—to see that which was the object of his abstract speculation actually established—to see all the great principles which he had considered as indispensable to the security of Europe against the ambitious policy of France embodied and put into practice.

The question before the House that night, however, was of a description much narrower than the consideration of all these circumstances would make it. He did not call for their sanction of the stipulations of the Treaty of Vienna. Whenever that document should be laid on the table, he would ask for their judgment upon it. But it would be idle to stand still—to shut their eyes against what was passing in Europe, because the whole course of proceedings at Congress, and the documents explanatory of those proceedings, were not before them. The only point on which he wished the House that night to pronounce, was, whether or not they would give their support to the Executive Government in the war in which the country was now engaged? It was a mistaken notion that the question was, whether we should go to war or not? but, being at war, whether or not we should enter into negociations for peace, separate from our Allies, and oppose that system to which we had just expressed our concurrence? That we had an adequate cause of war against Buonaparté was unquestionable—and not less undoubted was it, that during his usurpation of the supreme authority we had an adequate cause of war against the French nation. He most readily admitted the abstract proposition of the right of every country to be exempt from the evil of the interference of any other country in its internal concerns. But this was a case to be determined by its particular circumstances. In proportion as the French nation had the right of choosing their own Government, in proportion as it was affirmed (although there was in his opinion no evidence of the fact) that the re-establishment of Buonaparté was the act of the nation at large, and not of the military alone, was the proof that the French nation had committed an infraction of the peace. The war which formerly existed against that nation, would still have existed; no peace could have been made but for the solemn act of the Treaty of Paris—one main condition, indeed the basis of which was, that the Government of France was to be administered by another ruler. We should indeed stand in a ludicrous relation to the person who had resumed the supreme authority in that country, if we were to consider the Treaty of Paris as subsisting between us and him. What was the substance of the Treaty of Paris? That Buonaparté should not remain emperor of France. Should we, then, take him as a guardian and conservator of that Treaty—should the powers of Europe concert with him the best means of executing it, when its very basis was his abdication of the French throne? The question now was, not whether we should declare war with France because Buonaparté was at the head of the French Government, but whether we should open negociations with Buonaparté, he having returned to the head of that Government contrary to the stipulations of the Treaty of Paris, and the war existing before the conclusion of that Treaty being therefore still in continuance; and thus give him the time which he might require for those preparations, which might ultimately enable him to attack Europe at a period better calculated for the accomplishment of his ambitious designs.

The noble lord said, he perfectly agreed with the hon. gentlemen opposite, that nothing but urgent necessity could justify war. He readily recognized the general right of a country to direct its own affairs. But there were cases so extreme, as to render it impossible to separate the good faith and character of a nation from the good faith and character of the person at the head of the affairs of that nation. If the history of the world afforded an instance more striking than any other, of the existence of such a case, it was the present; in which the character of the individual concerned was combined with this additional feature—that he had the French army at his disposal, and that he had promised to restore it to its former fame—in other words, that he would again endeavour to lead it on to conquest, instead of adhering to the pacific and temperate policy of Louis the 18th. It had been contended, that the talents of Buonaparté were calculated in war to give a most dangerous impulse to the energies of the French nation. But let the whole of his career be examined: let his conduct be contemplated in peace, in war, in adversity, and in prosperity; and it would disclose an unrelenting system, an active exertion to disturb the tranquillity of all countries. If we looked at him during the number of years in which he presided over the French nation, we should discover no period at which the aggressions of Buonaparté were more extensive than during the period which he chose to call a period of peace. Comparing the character of his conduct in peace and in war, it would be found that he had achieved more in the former than in the latter. All his acquisitions of the different republics were consolidated in a time of peace. Holland, and the Ligurian republic, were annexed to France in a time of peace. Switzerland was almost entirely annexed to France in a time of peace. The 32d military division was annexed to France in a time of peace. Not only did these aggrandizements of French power take place in time of peace, but the greatest and most malignant effort of Buonaparté to disturb the repose of the world, his attempt to subdue countries almost in themselves submissive to him, his most unjustifiable attack on Spain and Portugal, was framed and executed in a time of peace. Even in his most successful wars, there was something in the moral influence which had been opposed to him, that had been more advantageous to the interests of humanity than the relaxed vigilance of a state of pacification.

But these were not the sole considerations to be dwelt upon in estimating the character of Buonaparté. It was evident, that no alteration of fortune afforded the least hope that he would content himself with any resting-place. No man was more disinclined than himself to use harsh expressions towards those to whom we were opposed in war; but it was impossible not to do so in examining the character of this extraordinary man during all the vicissitudes of his life. Whether in good or bad fortune, he maintained the same unrelenting disposition. Good or bad fortune, indeed, was only a transitory point in his existence, from which he sprung to new efforts. He seemed destined for a state of unceasing activity against the tranquillity and happiness of the world. Let him be taken at the acme of his fortune—after the peace of Tilsit—when he had scarcely an enemy in Europe—when he had allied himself to one of the most ancient and respectable houses on the Continent—when he had only to sit down and enjoy his success—and he would be found as impatient of his situation, as determined to leave no nation in possession of its independence, as when he had all his preceding objects to achieve. To show how incapable his mind was of bending from its original quality—at the moment when his hands were full with the exertions necessary to maintain the ground which he had usurped in Spain—that moment he selected for that gigantic effort which afterwards turned to his destruction, against the only remaining nation on the continent which possessed the means of resisting his power, and which the pacific character of its Sovereign induced him rashly to assail, amidst all the difficulties of his situation. When the madness of his ambition had thus hurried him into this new contest—when the storm burst on his head—when he was swept from Russia—driven from Germany—and beaten in France—when he was hemmed in by insuperable difficulties, how did his character manifest itself? Did he really contemplate a solid plan of general repose—a plan which, while it imparted tranquillity to the world, would extricate him from the labyrinth into which his own principles and policy had betrayed him? By no means. All that he did was to manifest a disposition to sacrifice those principles and that policy, in order that he might gain breathing-time to enable him to renew the struggle.

On a former evening he had called the attention of the House to the documents, which proved the duplicity of Buonaparté on the occasion to which he alluded. Their authenticity, however, having been doubted, he had interchanged some official communications on the subject, which convinced him that they were genuine beyond the reach of controversy. Although the character of the man was before exhibited beyond the possibility of doubt, these documents showed that at a moment the most disastrous, he still laid in diplomatic fraud the foundation of a breach of the engagements into which he affected to be entering, determined again to disturb the peace of the world, if his future situation should enable him to break loose from the conditions to which he pretended to conform. Depressed as was his state, he contemplated how he might again enter Germany, Italy, and the north of Europe. The noble lord said, he should feel it his duty to read to the House the letter of instruction from the duke of Bassano to the duke of Vicenza on this subject. In that letter Buonaparté attempted to justify his intended treachery, by imputing bad faith to the Allies in the capitulations of Dresden, Dantzic, and Gorcum, as they respected the return of the garrisons of those places to France—than which accusation nothing could be more unfounded; and on that pretended ground he asserts his right to violate a solemn and ratified Treaty, if military events should permit him to do so. The instructions were dated on the 19th of March, 1814, and were written at the moment when Buonaparté was most critically situated between the armies of marshal Blucher and prince Schwartzenberg. Marshal Blucher pressing upon him from Rheims, feeling that danger to be near, and not foreseeing the fate which would attend him from a movement in front, he at that moment directed his minister at Chatillon to conclude the Treaty with the Allies, but to avoid explaining himself on the subject of delivering up the fortresses of Antwerp, Mayence, and Alexandria, to keep that dans le bas (to the use the expression of the original), in order that Buonaparté, although he intended to ratify the Treaty by which those fortresses were to be surrendered to the Allies, might avail himself of any subsequent military events of a favourable nature to violate his engagement by retaining them in his own possession. The letter was as follows: Translation of a Letter from the Duke of Bassano to the Duke of Vicenza. In the cypher of the Emperor with his Ministers. "March 19, 1814. Sir,—Your excellency will have received, or will doubtless in the course of to-day receive the dispatch from Rheims, of which M. Frochot was the bearer, and which was accompanied by a letter from the Emperor. The Emperor desires that you would avoid explaining yourself clearly upon every thing which may relate to delivering up the fortresses of Antwerp, Mayence, and Alexandria, if you should be obliged to consent to those cessions; his Majesty intending, even though he should have ratified the Treaty, to be guided by the military situation of affairs:—wait till the last moment. The bad faith of the Allies in respect to the capitulations of Dresden, Dantzic, and Gorcum, authorizes us to endeavour not to be duped. Refer, therefore, these questions to a military arrangement, as was done at Presburg, Vienna, and Tilsit. His Majesty desires that you would not lose sight of the disposition which he will feel not to deliver up those three keys of France, if military events, on which he is willing still to rely, should permit him not to do so, even if he should have signed the cession of all these provinces. In a word, his Majesty wishes to be able, after the Treaty, to be guided by existing circumstances, to the last moment. He orders you to burn this letter as soon as you have read it. The noble lord said he had received this letter from the most authentic official source. That its genuineness should be denied by the enemy, gave him no surprise; for it was the system of that Government to deny every thing which it was not for its interest to avow; and it might be truly said, that falsehood was in- corporated into the Government. His lordship proceeded to state, that while he was in France last year he had had occasion to see several instances of the system of falsehood and delusion followed by the then Government of that country. Official letters were regularly inserted in the journals from parts of France which had long been in the possession of the Allies.

But it was not enough to prove the justice of the war, unless we could also presume upon a rational prospect of success. He apprehended that we had such a prospect, and he would submit to the House the grounds of that conviction. A state of hostility with the present Government of France would not only be a wise course with respect to the general security of Europe, but it would be our most economical course; and the difference of expence between a state of armed peace and actual war, was by no means an object to be put in competition with the risk attendant on such a state of insecurity. It had been questioned, whether our prospect of success, in a military point of view, was not impaired since last year; and whether the power of the Allies was not so far diminished as to make it wise for us, however much disposed to adopt a contrary system, to pause before we committed ourselves in actual hostilities? He would allow, if there was any division of sentiment amongst the Continental Powers, or any doubt entertained by them of what was best for their interests, that this ought to be a motive for us to pause, and that we ought rather to wait for the evil day and attempt to resist it when it comes, than to proceed to resist it with a divided coalition. But he would assume that the same feeling existed in the whole of the Confederated Powers which was entertained by the Government of this country; and he thought no man would doubt this when he considered that there had been no attempt on the part of the British Cabinet to goad them into the adoption of any measure which they did not consider for their own interest. As Great Britain was the power which was least menaced, and had most resources for supporting the expenses of a continental war if necessary, it was judged wisest by the Cabinet of this country not to use a tone of incitement, but rather to urge the Allies to adopt the coarse by which they would best consult their own security—they might be assured that we would not leave them, but they ought to weigh well the whole circumstances of the case, and be clear in their determination to act together—and above all, that they ought not to go into the struggle with an idea that it would be merely the struggle of a day, but that it might be one of great length and accompanied with great difficulties. This was the course which this country had taken; and no man could doubt from the acts of the Confederation, before this country could posssibly have prompted them, that their resolutions were formed on the most solid conviction that the course taken by them was necessary for their own interests. The danger which at first threatened them was no doubt of a lighter character; but as the successes of Buonaparté advanced till the Royal family was finally driven out of France, the danger became more alarming. Their conviction, however, was invariably the same—that their only safety was in war, and that by war alone the safety of the world could be preserved. Those who differed with him in other respects, would not, he hoped, differ with him in this, that there was the greatest appearance of unanimity amongst the Allies—a greater appearance of unanimity than the history of Europe had ever before disclosed.

The noble lord said, he should now proceed to inquire into the relation which the military force of the present Ruler of France and the Confederated Powers bore to each other, and the prospect of success which we might rationally entertain. To say that war was a matter of certainty, and not in the hands of Providence, would be idle and presumptuous at all times, and with whatever means undertaken. But if we had a prospect of success from our former efforts this prospect of success must now be much greater, from the increased strength of the Confederacy, and the diminished means which the Government of France could bring against them. No man could be more disposed than he was to give full weight to the efforts which a great nation might make when fighting on their own soil, for what the people of the country might be led to conceive their national independence against the attack of a natural enemy. It was impossible to disguise that the resources of this nation were in reality very great. We had already had an example of what could be effected by France. The French military were no doubt considered as the most animated in character and the most intelligent in Europe; but we had already met them in the field. Making every allowance for the arts of delusion practised by the Government, there was something so different in the situation of the country now, from the period when it was invaded at the commencement of the revolutionary war, that we should be drawing an inference not likely to be justified by events, if we supposed that the people would generally support the present Government with warmth and enthusiasm. For it was not now as if the King had never returned to them. As long as Buonaparté constituted the actual Government of the country, it was natural that the people should support him from an unwillingness to receive a sovereign from foreign Powders, to be dictated to in their internal affairs. But, when the nation had once taken back their legitimate Sovereign, and when they had experienced that the whole conduct of that Sovereign was lenient and pacific—when the nation had contracted towards that Sovereign the most solemn engagements which could be entered into between a sovereign and his subjects, the situation of things became very much altered; and even with the imposing character of the French army, there were abundance of facts to show, that the people were not only not generally disposed to support the present Government; but were even in many places far from remaining quiescent under it. The revolutionary feeling was now in a great degree extinct. The people of France, with all their faults, possessed a moral sense which would not allow them to betray their legitimate Sovereign, without entertaining such sentiments as would first display themselves in inactivity and afterwards in rallying round that Sovereign. But we ought also to consider that the power of France was very different when acting on her own national resources, and when she had, in addition to these, the external resources which she derived from the spoil of every other country, France could not now bring into the field the same force which she had at the period of her great conquests. It became important, therefore, to consider what resources they had for the creation of an army when stripped of their external resources. If they were to look into the former French Budgets, they would find that these external resources were immense. In considering the present resources of France, they ought to look at the period during last campaign when their resources were extremely narrowed, because there was power enough in the European Confederacy to occupy a considerable part of the territory of France. All those parts, therefore, which might be so occupied, and such parts as were in a disturbed state, must be considered as a diminution of the means of France; and that country would not resemble in effectual resources what it was when entire in its own territory, or when it also possessed the external resources of other countries.

Having taken a comparative view of the resources of France, he would now compare the present means of the Confederacy with what they were at any former period. In looking to the situation of the Confederacy, their moral strength was an important feature in the present question; and as he was confident that the exertions in the interior of France would be chilled by the conviction of the wickedness of the Government, and a desire on the part of the people to see the establishment of a pacific system, he was equally confident that throughout the rest of Europe there prevailed, a great moral feeling that the peace of the world depended on the close of the war on a principle which would not establish Buonaparté on the throne of one of the greatest kingdoms of Europe. His firm conviction was, that not only at no period of the war were the Allied Sovereigns more determined to persevere with ardour in the contest; but also that never did their subjects consider this to be more an essential duty, and never were they more prepared to support their Sovereigns by the utmost extent of sacrifices. It appeared that there was nothing unsound in the moral principle on which they acted; and that the matter reduced itself to a struggle of arms in which the power of the Confederation would not be impaired by any unwillingness on the part of their subjects. In measuring the relative power of the different European states, it was necessary to consider, that the tendency of the Treaty of Paris had been to augment considerably in effectual military strength, every continental Power, France alone excepted; for France being at once placed by that Treaty, as it were, out of the reach of subsequent events, having all her interests secured to her, and placed in a state of safety, was determined to derive the greatest possible relief from peace, and had, therefore made the greatest reduction in her army. France was, in fact, the only country in Europe which could be considered, to have reduced her army to a peace establishment. Knowing this, and knowing also that France had now no external resources, and was reduced to those derived from her own soil, and that her Government could only make great exertions by a great outlay; with the diminution in her means, he did not conceive that the military establishment of that country could have possibly received any very great increase. It so happened, however, on the other hand, that the military strength of the Allies had not only not been impaired since last war, but that it had been increased in all its ingredients, not only in the power to act offensively, but in one which was perhaps of still more importance—the Allied Sovereigns had not only consolidated their armies on a scale of magnitude which the armies of Europe had never before attained, but they had made such arrangements, if the struggle should be unfortunate in its result, and should not lead to that amelioration of the government of France which was so much to be wished, as would best place Europe put of the reach of the recoil of any efforts on the part of France, that might prove dangerous to their own security. In the whole of the countries on the Rhine, and indeed throughout nearly all Germany, the landsturm were called out—a measure which might be said to have armed the whole population, and which did not exist at the late period when hostilities were carried on. That the armies of the Confederated Powers were on the highest scale, was a fact known to every man who had been on the continent; and he owned that it had almost made him tremble, when at the Congress, where local interests were discussed with that warmth which might so naturally have been expected, he considered that the discussions took place in the midst of what might well be called a great armed camp; for in Germany alone there were not less than one million of armed soldiers, independent of the local force of the different states. And, therefore, if war was inevitable, there never was a moment when it could come with less hazard to the fate of the world. He believed that the delay of a single month would have made such a difference in their establishments as to leave it questionable whether they would be able to enter into the contest without first re-erecting, what France had to do, their armies from a small peace establishment. There was nothing, therefore, which should lead us to entertain desponding sentiments, or to Suppose that the Powers of Europe had not the means of making greater efforts than had ever yet been made by them. And even with the assistance which this country might find it advisable to give, if they should not be able to put in motion the whole of their military forces, these forces were a security to this country, that the armies of France would always be met by a force commensurate to the occasion—that that force could always be kept up to an adequate extent—and that it would protect them, in connexion with the armed population, from any risk in case of failure.

The war was therefore as clearly justifiable on the grounds of military expediency, as on those of necessity—and it was also clear, that if the Allies were not able to come now to the contest with a prospect of success, there was no possible prospect of their ever being more so; for Europe never could be in such a situation of strength as it was in at present. The question, then, was, whether they would wait for the evil day till those means were diminished, or go into the struggle in their present high state of preparation? The means might not only be relatively diminished by an increase of those of Buonaparté, but some accidental variance might at some time or other arise among the Confederated Powers which might have the effect of dividing them for a time. Those who took the extraordinary view, that though it might be necessary to go to war with France, they were not prepared to consent to a grant of subsidies to the other Powers, might still vote for the Address with which he should conclude; for in point of consistency, a man might disapprove of the grant of a subsidy, and disapprove of the Treaty of Vienna, and yet support the Address with his vote. But the House would be shrinking from its duty, if it did not assist the Confederacy with all those resources which it was able to afford. The proposed Subsidies were calculated on a principle which put to the test, whether the war was a war of the Continental Powers or one of our own. The greatest part of the burthen fell on themselves, and the part which fell on us, though a cause of animation to them in their efforts, would not afford to them a motive for continuing their efforts, one moment beyond the necessity of the case. It was the greatest proof of their firm conviction of the necessity of the contest, that, pressed as they were in their resources, they had nevertheless subjected themselves to the necessity of making such heavy exertions. But he did not wish to enter at present into the subject of the subsidies—that more properly belonged to the discussion of to-morrow.

He had thus endeavoured to open to the House the general grounds of the question as concisely as he could, trusting that he should be allowed hereafter an opportunity for explanation, if necessary; and trusting also to the mind of the House, after dwelling for nearly twenty-five years on this subject, and with such experience and extensive knowledge as they possessed of the question in all its bearings. Although it was painful to him to be the organ of moving an address of this nature, alter those glorious exertions which this country had so long made, and the privations which she had consequently endured, and which so well entitled her population to the enjoyment of the blessings of peace; he had still the consolation of reflecting, that those additional efforts which he was compelled to recommend, constituted the only mode of conduct which it was under the present circumstances safe or prudent to adopt. We had contended for our own safety against the same Power, unaided by a single ally, and after seeing, as it were, the last spark of life expire in the two great Powers from which we principally looked for co-operation, in opposition to the enemy of Europe. When we advanced to the assistance of Spain and Portugal, overrun by that Power, we felt bold in the morality of the cause—we felt bold in the wisdom of the measure, from the effect which it might ultimately have on other nations labouring under similar injustice and oppression. We struggled under many disadvantages; and, whatever fortune might occasionally attend our efforts, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing those two nations delivered, and the system of Europe revive, in proportion to the efforts made by us for Spain and Portugal, and a combination of Europe against France, finally cemented by the efforts of this country. We now started with the whole of Europe combined against that desolating Power, and even with an assistance in the interior of France itself. Whatever, therefore, might be the sacrifices and privations which we should still be called on to make, we had no reason to look to the issue of the Strug- gle with sentiments of despondency. Whatever might be the difficulties of the awful crisis, we had every thing to cheer and animate us in our past efforts. We had had the satisfaction of conducting the affairs of the world to a point which might comparatively be called tranquillity and peace. We had only to carry our efforts a little farther. In their past efforts the Confederation had preserved the character of dignity and moderation which they professed; and from their manner of conducting themselves when in possession of the capital of the French nation, they had shown that they were not actuated by any of those retaliatory principles which would have almost been excusable in their situation; but that they entertained a sincere wish to temper their successes by a conciliatory treatment of the French nation. The subsequent deliberations at Vienna would afterwards come before the House, and it would be then for them to form a judgment on the matter. He wished to ask the House, whether we should be acting wisely in separating ourselves from the common efforts of Europe, and whether we were prepared lo advise a peace separately instead of a war in conjunction with our Allies? The noble lord concluded with moving,

"That an humble Address be presented to his royal highness the Prince Regent, to return his Royal Highness the thanks of this House for his most gracious Message, by which his Royal Highness has been pleased to inform us, that, in consequence of the events which have occurred in France, in direct contravention of the Treaties concluded at Paris in the course of last year, his Royal Highness had judged it necessary to enter into engagements with his Majesty's Allies, for the purpose of forming such a concert as present circumstances indispensably require, and as may prevent the revival of a system which experience has proved to be incompatible with the peace and independence of the other nations of Europe: To make our acknowledgments to his Royal Highness, for having directed copies of the Treaties which have been concluded to be laid before us; and to assure his Royal Highness, that he may confidently rely on the cordial support of this House in all measures which it may be necessary for his Royal Highness to adopt, in conjunction with his Majesty's Allies, against the common enemy at this important crisis.

Lord George Cavendish

said, he could not help thinking, from the speech of the noble lord, that his Majesty's Government had now changed their object, and that their sole intention was to overturn the present Ruler of France, for the sake of replacing the Bourbons on the throne. They had only to look at the Treaty of the 25th of March, which established a mutuality of interests between the contracting parties, to be convinced that their intention was the restoration of that family. No man felt more for fallen greatness than he did; but every person must see, whether from the incapacity of the Bourbons, or from an indisposition on the part of the people of France to receive them as Sovereigns, there was not the smallest chance of their restoration to power. He was confident if the House looked to the spirit of the people of that country—their jealousy of all external interference—they would be convinced that there was no chance of a settled government there, but what arose from the external and visible circumstances of the country. Our experience of the past ought to be a lesson to us for the future. After a struggle, in which the best blood of the country had been shed—in which our finances had been so much impaired—and more especially when the new contest was not only of the most arduous description, but one which, if we failed, would entail disgrace on the country, we ought not to plunge ourselves in war without the most urgent necessity—such a necessity as had not yet been made out satisfactorily to the House. The noble lord concluded with moving the following Amendment to the Address:

"That an humble Address be presented to his royal highness the Prince Regent, to thank him for his gracious Message:

"To express to his Royal Highness our firm determination to support all such measures as may be necessary to enable his Royal Highness to maintain the honour of his Majesty's Crown, and to establish an intimate concert with the Powers of Europe, for the protection of their respective rights against all foreign aggression:

"To assure his Royal Highness that it is at all times our anxious desire to give our assistance in fulfilling such Treaties as his Royal Highness may have been induced to enter into with these views; but that We should not be justified in expressing any approbation of the engagements which his Royal Highness appears to have contracted, for maintaining entire the stipulations determined upon and signed at the Congress of Vienna, of which, both as to their principle and extent, we are as yet wholly uninformed:

"To state to his Royal Highness, that cordially approving, as we do, of a defensive system, for preserving the equilibrium of Europe, and securing the repose and independence of its states, we at the same time feel ourselves bound to represent to his Royal Highness that we do not think a war undertaken on the principle of personally proscribing the present Ruler of France, necessary for the accomplishment of those desirable ends.

"That, on the contrary, such a war appears to us questionable in its principle, and fraught with the greatest dangers; leaving us no alternative, with a view to the re-establishment of peace, but complete success in destroying the Government so proscribed, or humiliation and disgrace, in submitting to acknowledge it after such proscription.

"That we learn with satisfaction that hostilities have not yet been commenced, and that we entreat his Royal Highness to open new communications with the Allied Powers, whereby the engagements now subsisting between them, may be established on a defensive principle, more conducing, as it appears to us, to the interests of this country, and to the general security of Europe, than that which has been adopted in the Declaration signed at Vienna by the Allies on the 13th of March last, and in the consequent Treaty concluded on the 25th of the same month."

Mr. John Smith

seconded the amendment. He said he was averse from war, as a friend to humanity in the first place; and that to this objection were superadded the very destructive consequences which it would be in all likelihood the means of bringing on this country. He was aware that it was urged on the side of the promoters of the present treaties, that Buonaparté was merely upheld by the army; that the army was a banditti, a set of robbers and plunderers; and therefore there could be no security for peace: but this argument operated against those who urged it; for if Buonaparte's army were such plunderers as were thus described, if they had this insatiable desire for war, peace was the only, or at least the surest method by which it was to be allayed. Those bad principles of the French army would be nurtured and matured by war; they would every day grow stronger, and it was by peace only that they could be counteracted, and by degrees worn away. In fact, peace was the most certain mode of allaying that destructive spirit of which so much dread was entertained. It being, then, so apparent to him, that peace was the most desirable object this country had to look to, it behoved us to consider how the case stood. Buonaparté had unequivocally declared his ardent wish for peace. In respect to the army of France, it was his opinion, that the efforts of the Legislature, aided by the countenance of the great landed proprietors, would be sufficient to repress, and, in a few years, subdue the present effervescent spirit of the soldiery; and in addition to their endeavours, Buonaparté, he was convinced, was more able than any man to repress and restrain those men who looked up to him with so much enthusiasm, in consequence of those brilliant achievements to which he had so frequently led them. But, there was one argument in favour of peace, which ought to weigh in an extraordinary manner on all his Majesty's ministers; and that was, that give this country but three years of peace, and we should be able to contend against the whole world. The noble lord seemed to think that the power of Buonaparté might, at the present moment, be easily subdued; but he was not a man of a common stamp. Let the House recollect what he had been able to effect immediately after his return from Russia. Though he arrived in France after that disastrous campaign with but a small number of his veteran army, he had exerted his talents and activity with such extraordinary effect, that in the month of March, 1813, he was enabled to lead a new army across the Rhine, which for three months had actually kept the Allies not only at bay, but had brought the contest to a very doubtful point, had not Austria thrown her weight into the scale of the Allied Sovereigns of Russia and Prussia. After that event he had indeed had his hands full. He was harassed on all sides; till at length he made a false move, and lost the game. If with such small means, and in so short a time he then did so much, what might he not be expected to do now, when he had such astonishing advantages in his favour? It was generally believed that at the present moment he was at the head of an army of at least 300,000 men. Nor was it much to be wondered at, when it was recollected what immense numbers of his best veteran soldiers had been shut up in the various strong fortresses in Europe of which he was in possession. Added to these, we were to look to the extraordinary number of prisoners in Russia and this country, amounting to nearly 200,000; and from recent accounts which had pretty generally gone abroad, all those men were enthusiastic in his favour, and notwithstanding the length of their imprisonment, those who were in this country, amounting to nearly 100,000, openly testified their strong attachment to him on every occasion that offered, and betrayed a resentment against this country that was truly extraordinary. This could not be from ill usage; for they had always been treated with every degree of kindness and liberality which their situation would allow, and therefore could only arise from a rooted attachment to him, and a resentment against any power that should attempt to set him aside. The noble lord had assumed, and indeed asserted, that a great part of the French people would join the Allies. To this, however, he could not give credence. The whole population seemed to have been so overjoyed at his return, and he had made his way to Paris with such rapidity and with so little interruption, that he thought it was in vain to hope for such results as the noble lord appeared to anticipate. The illustrious Commander who was at the head of our army on the northern frontier of France, would doubtless do every thing which his superior talents, and the known bravery of the army under him, could possibly effect; but he could not be supposed to have power enough to withstand the whole population of France: and, therefore, he thought the noble lord was infinitely too sanguine, and by no means warranted in supposing that our efforts were likely to be attended with that success which he seemed to build upon with so much confidence. It gave him great satisfaction to hear we were only to advance 5,000,000l.; but at the same time it would give him still greater pleasure, if the noble lord would condescend to tell the House on what ground he rested his confidence in the fidelity of the Allies. They had all games to play, and stakes at issue, which, in case of any reverse of fortune on their side, might render their attachment to the common cause rather dubious. Prussia would, in such case, be looking with a careful eye towards Saxony; Austria towards Italy; and Russia would be anxious to secure the footing she had got in Poland. The noble lord, not much more than a twelvemonth ago, had left this country to assume the high character allotted to him, in which he had so honourably performed his part, that on his return he had been warmly greeted by the applauses of that House and of the country; and it must be truly mortifying to the feelings of the noble lord to see that all his efforts had been rendered futile and of no avail. Another argument which weighed strongly on his mind against plunging into a war at the present moment was, the state of our finances, which was certainly not the most flourishing or desirable. His Majesty's ministers had among them gentlemen possessing the first talents as far as regards that important and intricate subject. The right hon. gentleman at the head of that department had lately been joined by another right hon. gentleman (Mr. Huskisson), whose financial abilities were generally looked up to with considerable confidence. That right hon. gentleman had, not long since, declared, that in his opinion taxation had arrived at its utmost limits, and unless we adopted some plan of economy it was impossible we could go on much longer—he believed the right hon. gentleman had then fixed the period at two or three years. Now it seemed to him problematical whether this war, if entered upon, would be terminated in one year; and if it was not, but should unfortunately continue more than two or three years, either the right hon. gentleman's calculation most be incorrect, or the country must be by that time in a most lamentable situation, for want of that necessary food for carrying on a war, vulgarly called money. Looking at our present situation with regard to our finances, he was free to confess he knew not from what source new taxes were to be drawn; He would consider the putting down Buonaparté, if he could be put down, as a most fortunate circumstance for all Europe; but if, after some years struggle with him, be should chance to worst the Allies, it was by no means a pleasing subject to contemplate what our peace establishment must then be. He, therefore, most cordially seconded the amendment of his noble friend.

Mr. Grattan

rose and said:—I sincerely sympathize with the hon. gentleman who spoke last, in his anxiety on this important question; and my solicitude is in creased by a knowledge that I differ in opinion from my oldest political friends. I have further to contend against the additional weight given to the arguments of the noble lord who moved the amendment, by the purity of his mind, the soundness of his judgment, and the elevation of his rank. I agree with my hon. friends, in thinking that we ought not to impose a government upon France. I agree with them in deprecating the evil of war; but I deprecate still more the double evil of a peace without securities, and a war without allies. Sir, I wish it was a question between peace and war; but unfortunately for the country, very painfully to us, and most injuriously to all ranks of men, peace is not in our option, and the real question is, whether we shall go to war when our Allies are assembled, or fight the battle, when those Allies shall be dissipated?

Sir, the French Government is war; it is a stratocracy, elective, aggressive, and predatory; her armies live to fight, and fight to live; their constitution is essentially war, and the object of that war the conquest of Europe. What such a person as Buonaparté at the bead of such a constitution will do, you may judge by what he has done: first, he took possession of the greater part of Europe—he made his son King of Rome—he made his son-in-law Viceroy of Italy—he made his brother King of Holland—he made his brother-in-law King of Naples—he imprisoned the King of Spain—he banished the King of Portugal, and formed his plan for taking possession of the Crown of England. England had checked his designs, her trident had stirred up his empire from its foundation; he complained of her tyranny at sea; but it was her power at sea which arrested his tyranny at land: the navy of England saved Europe. Knowing this, he knew the conquest of England became necessary for the accomplishment of the conquest of Europe, and the destruction of her marine necessary for the conquest of England. Accordingly, besides raising an army of 60,000 men for the invasion of England, he applied himself to the destruction of her commerce, the foundation of her naval power. In pursuit of this object, and on his plan of a western empire, he conceived, and in part executed the design of consigning to plunder and destruction, the vast regions of Russia; he quits the genial clime of the temperate zone—he bursts through the narrow limits of an immense empire—he abandons comfort and security, and he hurries to the pole, to hazard them all, and with them the companions of his victories, and the fame and fruits of his crimes and his talents, on a speculation of leaving in Europe, throughout the whole of its extent, no one free or independent nation: to oppose this huge conception of mischief and despotism, the great Potentate of the North is obliged to advance to defend, against the voracity of ambition, the sterility of his dominions; he joins the King of Prussia, whom Buonaparté had deprived of the greater part of his territories; he joins the Emperor of Austria, whom Buonaparté had deprived of the principal part of his dominions; these three powers, physical causes, the influence of your victories in Spain and Portugal, and the precipitation of his own ambition, combine to accomplish his destruction. Buonaparté is conquered, and the three Kings march to the gates of Paris—there they stand—the late victims of his ambition, and now the disposers of his destiny, and the masters of his capital. He had gone to their countries (without provocation) with fire and sword—they come to his (with the greatest provocation) to give life and liberty; they do art act unparalleled in the annals of history, such as nor envy, nor time, nor malice, nor prejudice, nor ingratitude can efface—they give to his subjects liberty, and to himself life and royalty. Posterity will admire and crown their monuments with glory everlasting.

Therefore, when he that states the conditions of the Treaty of Fontainbleau are not performed, he forgets one of them, namely, the condition by which he lives; it is very true there was a mixture of policy and prudence in this measure; but it was a great act of magnanimity notwithstanding, and it is not in Providence to turn such an act to your disadvantage. With respect to the other act, the mercy shown to his people, I have under-rated it; the Allies did not give liberty to France, they enabled her to give a constitution to herself, a better constitution than that which, with much laboriousness and circumspection, and deliberation, and procrastination, the philosopher fabricated, when the Jacobins trampled down the flimsy work, murdered the vain philosophers, drove out the crazy reformers, and remained masters of the field in the triumph of superior anarchy and confu- sion; better than that, I say, which the Jacobin destroyed, better than that which be afterwards formed, with some method in his madness, and more madness in his method; with such a horror of power, that in his plan of a constitution, he left out a government, and with so many wheels, that every thing was in movement, and nothing in concert, so that the machine took fire from its own velocity; in the midst of death and mirth, with images emblematic of the public disorder, goddesses of reason turned fool, and of liberty turned fury: at length the French found their advantages in adopting the sober and unaffected security of King, Lords, and Commons, on the idea of that form of government which your ancestors procured by their firmness, and maintained by their discretion. This constitution Buonaparté has destroyed, together with the Treaty of Fontainbleau; and having broken both, desires your confidence:—"Russia confided, and was deceived—Austria confided, and was deceived. Have we forgotten the Treaty of Luneville, and his abominable conduct to the Swiss? Spain and the other nations of Europe confided—and all were deceived. During the whole of this time, he was charging on England the continuation of the war, while he was breaking his own treaties of peace, for the purpose of renewing the war, to end it in what was worse than war itself—his conquest of Europe.

But now he repents, and will be faithful—he says so, but he says the contrary also: "I protest against the validity of "the Treaty of Fontainbleau, it was no "done with the consent of the people; "I protest against every thing done in "my absence; see my speech to the "army and people, see the speech of my "council to me." The Treaty of Paris was done in his absence—by that Treaty were returned the French colonies and prisoners: thus he takes life and empire from the Treaty of Fontainbleau, with an original design to set it aside; and he takes prisoners and colonies from the Treaty of Paris, which he afterwards sets aside also; and musters an army by a singular fatality, in a great measure composed of troops who owe their enlargement, and of a chief who owes his life to the Powers he fights with the resources of France, who owes to those Powers, her salvation. He gives a reason for this, "nothing is good which was done without the consent of the people," having been deposed by that people and elected by the army in their defiance;—with such sentiments, which go not so much against this or that particular Treaty as against the principles of affiance, the question is, whether with a view to the security of Europe, you will take he faith of Napoleon, or the army of the Allies?

Gentlemen maintain that we are not equal to the contest, that is to say, confederated Europe cannot fight France single-handed; if that be your opinion, you are conquered this moment, you are conquered in spirit: but that is not your opinion, nor was it the opinion of your ancestors; they thought, and I hope transmitted the sentiment as your birth-right, that the armies of these islands could always fight, and fight with success their own numbers: see now the numbers you are to command—by this Treaty you are to have in the field what may be reckoned not less than 600,000 men, besides that stipulated army you have at command, what may be reckoned as much more, I say you and the Allies. The Emperor of Austria alone has an army of 500,000 men, of which 120,000 were sent to Italy to oppose Murat, who is now beaten: Austria is not then occupied by Murat; Prussia is not occupied by the Saxon, nor Russia by the Pole, at least not so occupied that they have not ample and redundant forces for this war: you have a General never surpassed, and Allies in heart and confidence. See now Buonaparté's muster—he has lost his external dominions, and is reduced from a population of 100,000,000, to a population of 25,000,000: besides, he has lost the power of fascination; for though he may be called the subverter of kings, he has not proved to be the redresser of grievances. Switzerland has not forgotten, all Europe remembers the nature of his reformation, and that the best reform he introduced was worse than the worst government he subverted: as little can Spain or Prussia forget what was worse even than his reformations, the march of his armies; it was not an army, it was a military government in march, like the Roman legions in Rome's worst time, Italica or Rapax, responsible to nothing—nor God, nor man. Thus he has administered a cure to his partizans for any enthusiasm that might have been annexed to his name, and is now reduced to his resources at home; it is at home that he must feed his armies and find his strength; and at home he wants artillery, he wants cavalry; he has no money, he has no credit, he has no title; with respect to his actual numbers, they are not ascertained, but it may be collected that they bear no proportion to those of the Allies.

But gentlemen presume that the French nation will rise in his favour as soon as we enter their country: we entered their country before and they did not rise in his favour, on the contrary they deposed him—the article of deposition is given at length. It is said we endeavour to impose a government on France; the French armies elect a conqueror for Europe, and our resistance to this conqueror is called imposing a government on France. If we put down this chief, we relieve France as well as Europe from a foreign yoke; and this deliverance is called the imposition of a government on France; He,—He! imposed a government on France—he imposed a foreign yoke on France—he took from the French their properly by contribution—he took their children by conscription—he lost her her empire, and (a thing almost unimaginable) he brought the enemy to the gates of Paris: we, on the contrary, formed a project, as appears from a paper of 1805, which preserved the integrity of the French empire; the Allies in 1814 not only preserved the integrity of the empire as it stood in 92, but gave her her liberty, and they now afford her the only chance of redemption.—Against these Allies, will France now combine, and having received from them her empire as it stood before the war, with additions in consequence of their deposition of Buonaparté, and having gotten back her capital, her colonies, and her prisoners, will she break the Treaty to which she owes them, rise up against the Allies who gave them, break her oath of allegiance, destroy the constitution she has formed, depose the king she has chosen, rise up against her own deliverance, in support of contribution and conscription, to perpetuate her political damnation under the yoke of a stranger?

Gentlemen say, France has elected him—they have no grounds for so saying; he had been repulsed at Antibes, and he lost 30 men; he landed near Cannes the 1st of March with 1100; with this force he proceeded to Grasse, Digne, Gap, and on the 7th he entered Grenoble, he there got from the desertion of regiments above 3,000 men, and a park of artillery; with this additional force he proceeded to Lyons; he left Lyons with about 7,000 strong, and entered Paris on the 20th with all the troops of the line that had been sent to oppose him; the following day he reviewed his troops, and nothing could equal the shouts of the army, except the silence of the people—this was, in the strictest sense of the word, a military election. It was an act where the Army deposed the civil Government—it was the march of a military chief over a conquered people. The nation did not rise to resist Buonaparté or defend Louis, because the nation could not rise upon the army; her mind as well as her constitution was conquered; in fact, there was no nation—every thing was army, and every thing was conquest. Buonaparté, it seems, is to reconcile every thing by the gift of a free constitution—he took possession of Holland, he did not give her a free constitution—he took possession of Spain, he did not give her a free constitution—he took possession of Switzerland, whose independence he had guaranteed, he did not give her a free constitution—he took possession of Italy, he did not give her a free constitution; he took possession of France, he did not give her a free constitution; on the contrary, he destroyed the Directorial constitution, he destroyed the Consular constitution, and he destroyed the late constitution, formed on the plan of England. But now he is, with the assistance of the Jacobin, to give her liberty; that is, the man who can bear no freedom, unites to form a constitution with a body who can bear no government. In the mean time, while he professes liberty, he exercises despotic power; he annihilates the nobles, be banishes the deputies of the people, and he sequesters the property of the emigrants; "now be is to give liberty!" I have seen his constitution, as exhibited in the newspaper—there are faults innumerable in the frame of it, and more in the manner of accepting it: it is to be passed by subscription without discussion, the troops are to send deputies, and the army is to preside. There is some cunning, however, in making the subscribers to the constitution renounce the House of Bourbon, they are to give their word for the deposition of the King, and take Napoleon's word for their own liberty; the offer imports nothing which can be relied on, except that he is afraid of the Allies. Disperse the alliance, and farewell to the liberty of France, and safety of Europe.

Under this head of ability to combat Buonaparté, I think we should not despair.

With respect to the justice of the cause, we must observe, Buonaparté has broken the Treaty of Fontainbleau—he confesses it—he declares he never considered himself as bound by it: if, then, that Treaty is out of the way, he is as he was before it—at war. As Emperor of the French, he has broken the Treaty of Paris—that Treaty was founded on his abdication; when he proposes to observe the Treaty of Paris, he proposes what he cannot do, unless he abdicates.

The proposition that we should not interfere with the government tit other nations is true, but true with qualifications—if the government of any other country contains an insurrectionary principle as France did, when she offered to aid the insurrections of her neighbours, your interference is warranted; if the government of another country contains the principle of universal empire, as France did, and promulgated, your interference is justifiable. Gentlemen may call this, internal government, but I call this, conspiracy. If the government of another country maintains a predatory army such as Buonaparté's, with a view to hostility and conquest, your interference is just. He may call this, internal government, but I call this a preparation for war. No doubt he will accompany this with offers of peace; but such offers of peace are nothing more than one of the arts of war, attended, most assuredly, by charging on you the odium of a long and protracted contest, and with much common place, and many good saws and sayings, of the miseries of bloodshed, and the savings and good husbandry of peace, and the comforts of a quiet life; but if you listen to this, you will be much deceived—not only deceived, but you will be beaten. Again, if the government of another country covers more ground in Europe, and destroys the balance of power, so as to threaten the independence of other nations, this is a cause of your interference. Such was the principle upon which we acted in the best times; such was the principle of the grand alliance; such the triple alliance; and such the quadruple; and by such principles has Europe not only been regulated, but protected. If a foreign government does any of those acts I have mentioned, we have a cause of war; but if a foreign power does all of them, forms a conspiracy for universal empire, keeps up an army for that purpose, employs that army to overturn the balance of power, and attempts the conquest of Europe—attempts, do I say?—in a great degree achieves it, (for what else was Buonaparté's dominion before the battle of Leipsic?) and then receives an overthrow, owes its deliverance to treaties which give that power its life, and these countries their security, (for what did you get from France but security?)—if this power, I say, avails itself of the conditions in the Treaties, which give it colonies, prisoners, and deliverance, and breaks those conditions which give you security, and resumes the same situation, which renders him capable of doing the same mischief; has England, or has she not, a right of war?

Having considered the two questions, that of ability and that of right, and having shown that you are justified on either consideration to go to war; let me now suppose, that you treat for peace—first, you will have a peace upon a war establishment, and then a war without your present Allies: it is not certain that you will have any of them; but it is certain that you will not have the same combination, while Buonaparté increases his power, by confirmation of his title, and by further preparation; so that you will have a bad peace and a bad war. Were I disposed to treat for peace, I would not agree to the amendment, because it disperses your Allies, and strengthens your enemy, and says to both, we will quit our alliance to confirm Napoleon on the throne of France, that he may hereafter more I advantageously fight us, as he did before, for the throne of England.

Gentlemen set forth the pretensions of Buonaparté—gentlemen say, that he has given liberty to the press. He has given liberty to publication, to be afterwards tried and punished according to the present constitution of France, as a military chief pleases; that is to say, he has given liberty to the French to hang themselves. Gentlemen say, he has in his dominions abolished the Slave Trade—I am unwilling to deny him praise for such an act; but if we praise him for giving liberty to the African, let us not assist him in imposing slavery on the European. Gentlemen say, will you make war upon character? but the question is, will you trust a government without one? What will you do if you are conquered, say gentlemen—I answer, the very thing you must do, if you treat—abandon the Low Countries. But the question is, in which case are you most likely to be conquered, with allies or without them? Either you must abandon the Low Countries, or you must preserve them by arms; for Buonaparté will not be withheld by treaty. If you abandon them, you will lose your situation on the globe, and, instead of being a medium of communication and commerce between the New World and the Old, you will become an anxious station between two firts—the continent of America, rendered hostile by the intrigues of France, and the continent of Europe possessed by her arms. It then remains for you to determine, if you do not abandon the Low Countries, in what way you mean to defend them, alone or with allies.

Gentlemen complain of the Allies, and say, they have partitioned such a country, and transferred such a country, and seized on such a country. What! will they quarrel with their Ally, who has possessed himself of a part of Saxony, and shake hands with Buonaparté, who proposed to take possession of England? If a prince takes Venice, we are indignant; but if he seizes on a great part of Europe, stands covered with the blood of millions, and the spoils of half mankind, our indignation ceases; vice becomes gigantic, conquers the understanding, and mankind begin by wonder, and conclude by worship. The character of Buonaparté is admirably calculated for this effect—he invests himself with much theatrical grandeur; he is a great actor in the tragedy of his own Government; the fire of his genius precipitates on universal empire, certain to destroy his neighbours or himself; better formed to acquire empire than to keep it, he is a hero and a calamity, formed to punish France, and to perplex Europe.

The authority of Mr. Fox has been alluded to—a great authority, and a great man; his name excites tenderness and wonder—to do justice to that immortal person, you must not limit your view to his country; his genius was not confined to England, it acted three hundred miles off, in breaking the chains of Ireland; it was seen three thousand miles off in communicating freedom to the Americans: it was visible, I know not how far off, in ameliorating the condition of the Indian; it was discernible on the coast of Africa, in accomplishing the abolition of the slave trade. You are to measure the magnitude of his mind by parallels of latitude. His heart was as soft as that of a woman—his intellect was adamant—his weaknesses were virtues, they protected him against the hard habit of a politician, and assisted nature to make him amiable and interesting. The question discussed by Mr. Fox in 92, was, whether you would treat with a revolutionary government?—the present is, whether you will confirm a military and a hostile one? You will observe, that when Mr. Fox was willing to treat, the French, it was understood, were ready to evacuate the Low Countries. If you confirm the present Government, you must expect to lose them. Mr. Fox objected to the idea of driving France upon her resources, lest you should make her a military government. The question now is, whether you will make that military government perpetual? I therefore do not think the theory of Mr. Fox can be quoted against us; and the practice of Mr. Fox tends to establish our proposition, for he treated with Buonaparté and failed. Mr. Fox was tenacious of England, and would never yield an iota of her superiority; but the failure of the attempt to treat was to be found, not in Mr. Fox, but in Buonaparté.

On the French subject, speaking of authority, we cannot forget Mr. Burke—Mr. Burke, the prodigy of nature and acquisition: he read every thing, he saw every thing, he foresaw every thing—his knowledge of history amounted to a power of foretelling; and when he perceived the wild work that was doing in France, that great political physician, intelligent of symptoms, distinguished between the access of fever and the force of health: and what other men conceived to be the vigour of her constitution, he knew to be no more than the paroxysm of her madness, and then, prophet-like, he pronounced the destinies of France, and, in his prophetic fury, admonished nations.

Gentlemen speak of the Bourbon family—I have already said, we should not force the Bourbon upon France; but we owe it to departed (I would rather say to interrupted) greatness, to observe, that the House of Bourbon was not tyrannical; under her every thing, except the administration of the country, was open to animadversion; every subject was open to discussion, philosophical, ecclesiastical and political; so that learning, and arts, and sciences, made progress—even England consented to borrow not a little from the temperate meridian of that Govern- ment—her Court stood controlled by opinion, limited by principles of honour, and softened by the influence of manners—and, on the whole, there was an amenity in the condition of France, which rendered the French an amiable, an enlightened, a gallant, and accomplished race: over this gallant race you see imposed an oriental despotism; their present Court has gotten the idiom of the East as well as her constitution; a fantastic and barbaric expression, an unreality, which leaves in the shade the modesty of truth, and states nothing as it is, and every thing as it is not: the attitude is affected, the taste is corrupted, and the intellect perverted. Do you wish to confirm this military tyranny in the heart of Europe?—a tyranny founded on the triumph of the army over the principles of civil government—an experiment to relax the moral and religious influences, and to set heaven and earth adrift from one another—an insurrectionary hope to every bad man in the community, and a frightful lesson of profit and power, vested in those who have pandered their allegiance from King to Emperor, and now found their pretensions to domination on the merit of breaking their oaths, and deposing their Sovereign. Should you do any thing so monstrous as to leave your Allies in order to confirm such a system, should you forget your name, forget your ancestors, and the inheritance they have left you of morality and renown, should you astonish Europe by quitting your Allies to render immortal such a composition, would not the nations exclaim, "You have very "providently watched over our interests, "and very generously have you contributed to our service—and do you falter "now?" "In vain have you stopped in "your own person the flying fortunes of "Europe, in vain have you taken the "eagle of Napoleon, and snatched invincibility from his standard, if now, "when confederated Europe is ready to "march, you take the lead in the desertion, and preach the penitence of Buonaparté and the poverty of England."

As to her poverty, you must not consider the money you spend in your defence, but the fortune you would lose if you were not defended—and further, you must recollect you will pay less to an immediate war, than to peace with a war establishment, and a war to follow it—recollect further, that whatever be your resources, they must outlast those of all your ene- mies; and further, that your empire cannot be saved by a calculation: besides, your wealth is only part of your situation—the name you have established, the deeds you have achieved, and the port you have sustained, preclude you from a second place among nations; and when you cease to be the first, you are nothing.

Sir Francis Burdett

said, he had hoped it would have fallen to an abler hand to answer the elegant appeal which had been made to the passions of the House,—an appeal which contained, together with the most brilliant antitheses and the most various talent, the most exaggerated statements, not inferior to those which the right hon. gentleman had pointed out in the state papers of the French ruler. He nevertheless, should venture to make a few observations on the justice and on the expediency of entering upon a war for the re-establishment in France of a family twice proscribed. It was the same to say to France, you shall have this government, as to say, you shall not have that other government; because the threat implied a power to conquer the country in question, and to whatever end it was applied, it alike showed a power to conquer the nation against whom it was directed. The election of Buonaparté had been made not only by a great majority of the people, but by a greater majority than had ever elected any other monarch; for the duke of Angouleme had stated, that the few troops which he had with him remained faithful to the Bourbons, till seduced by the persuasions or menaces of the population of the country. When Buonaparté first landed in France he was supported by a very small number of troops, much smaller than that by which king William was supported when he landed in this country. When we recollected the principles on which our ancestors proceeded, the indignation which was felt by them at that principle which was now called the support of legitimate sovereigns, and how successfully they had contended against it; we were not accustomed to survey them with regret, but with exultation. Our ancestors, indeed, went greater lengths than he could approve of—they set a price on the head of the person who was, according to the laws of hereditary succession, the legitimate monarch. They placed him in the situation in which the Declaration of Vienna placed Buonaparté, and authorized the assassin to aim the dagger against him. As to the States who were now armed against Buonaparté, they had, when there was an opportunity to gratify their lust of power, shown as little regard to treaties as Buonaparté; they had broken all engagements with one another, with him, and with this country. They had all joined with Buonaparté at different times against us; witness the armed neutrality, the appropriation of Hanover by Prussia, witness the various alliances of Austria with France. The Powers who now accused Buonaparté of breach of treaty, were those who divided Poland; after committing the most horrid atrocities in that unhappy country, and reeking with its blood, they proceeded to play the same game in France, had their power been equal to their cupidity. They were driven back with shame, and it was to be recollected, that at the time of the first attack on France, not only was the French army in a much worse state than at present, but a civil war raged in La Vendée; and we were then told, as we were now told, that she was on the verge of bankruptcy, and without men, money, or arms. The destruction of the power which the aggression of the Allies established, was owing to causes quite unconnected with the efforts of this country, Buonaparté's own rashness and precipitation overturned that fabric of French greatness, against which all the rest of Europe had wasted their strength in vain. When the fortune of that man began to turn, his ruin was consummated by the breach of their treaties on the part of the Allies—conduct justifiable, perhaps, because those treaties were imposed on them by his superior power against their own will. But was that treaty by which Buonaparté retired to Elba, a voluntary engagement on his part—or was it more cheerfully entered into than those treaties of alliance which bound Austria, Prussia, and Bavaria, to Napoleon, and which those Powers violated without the least remorse or pretext? Where, then, was the difference between those Powers and Buonaparté? We should recollect, that the name of the Bourbons, whom we now attempted to re-establish, had been held synonimous with perfidy; and it had been said by an historian of our own, that Louis 14 had been unlucky, because he had never found any good pretence for breaking those treaties which he always violated when it suited the purpose of his ambition. The emperor of the French was therefore, except in point of talents, much on a par with other monarchs. Besides, we had not been faultless towards him: witness the Treaty of Amiens. We had broken that treaty on false pretences, and had refused to give up Malta, which we stipulated to deliver to him. We should remember also the violence done to the French ambassadors under the Austrian protection, when they were forced out of Rastadt and attacked by the Austrian Hussars, and their dispatches taken from them. There was much to blame and much to lament in the conduct of all parties during the late twenty years war; but there was much, also, from which we should learn. When there was nothing to fear but from French principles, this country and the other Powers of Europe marched to put an end to those principles—by that act France was erected into a great military nation, and the consequence which naturally followed was, that she subdued almost all the states of Europe. That Power was now by accident reduced again within its ancient limits, and should we, by a new attack upon its independence, drive it again to exert its strength, which nothing but an assault upon its feelings could arouse? We had seen the conduct of the Allied Powers, when they had, to use their own phrase, delivered Europe! They set up and cast down according to their will, and obliterated states from the face of Europe; delivered nations to rulers whom they abhorred, and had shown respect neither to the feelings of the people, nor to what had been called the legitimacy of sovereigns. With this rotten state of Europe we were about to enter on a crusade against an individual, because we could not rely on his word. If Buonaparté had no monarchs in alliance with him, he could not fail to have allies among the people. Would not Holland, Saxony, Genoa, Poland, and Italy, support him, as soon as they had an opportunity to do so? But on the French we made it imperative to support him, unless they were such mere idiots as were described by the right hon. gentleman who spoke last, as to suppose that the Allies marched in support of the Bourbons from a disinterested love of liberty. When an invasion was threatened, whatever differences existed before, the danger would accommodate, and Buonaparté, as the greatest general, must be the leader of an insulted and unanimous nation. If Buonaparté was of that unrelenting mind which he was described to possess, we should afford him an opportunity to reestablish that enormous power which he had once possessed. We made the war necessary to France, and therefore just; for a menace on the most insignificant subject was a violation of independence. This country had unfortunately become entangled in German politics; and while we had all the disadvantage of being engaged in every continental war, we had, it was true, the advantage of paying all our Allies; and while we had the greatest solicitude for the welfare of every other country, we had the most, magnanimous disregard of our own liberties and constitution.—The hon. baronet then took a survey of the conduct of this country towards Ferdinand 7, and the Spanish Cortes; and concluded, that from the indications given by our Government in those transactions, the pretext for war with Buonaparté, was not the real cause. He asked, had the stipulations of the Treaties of the Allies been kept with Buonaparté? Had they not all been violated? and was it not even in contemplation to remove him from Elba? If such was the case, it was magnanimous, as well as wise in Buonaparté to appeal again to the people of France, by putting his life in the hand of every Frenchman who chose to take it, or of Louis, if he could have raised, out of thirty millions of subjects, a few thousand adherents. The pretence, that if we forbore to make war at the present moment, we should never be able to keep our Allies together, was no great compliment to them, because it supposed that same faithlessness to exist in them for which we declared war against Buonaparté. If, too, we could conquer France with our three Allies, could we not with them defend ourselves against her? The hon. baronet then forcibly remarked on the impolicy of making an independent state of Belgium, which our ancestors had always held to be the best security against aggression from France when in the hands of another great Power; and concluded by observing, that if the principle of interfering in the concerns of a foreign government was once acknowledged, wars would be eternal, unless a perfect similarity existed in all the governments of Europe—the Power interfering being the judge, despotic governments would always be at war against free states, the principles of the two being directly hostile: as the war, therefore, was neither just nor necessary, he should support the amendment.

Mr. Law

imagined that the hon. baronet had referred to any journals but those of the House, and had argued from any principles but those recognised by the Legislature on so many occasions. He could not conceive at what period it was that the enemy dated his triumphs in negociation, because the merits of every negociation could at last only be judged of by a succession of events: but looking at the future course of events, as far as it was permitted for us to see, he thought we might reasonably entertain the hope that so vast a train of successes as had lately occurred, had not occurred in vain.

Mr. Wynn

defended the general right of interfering with the internal government of another, and supported the principle by adducing arguments from the history of the various alliances in Europe formed for that express purpose. He said he would not rely on any improvement in the disposition of Buonaparté, nor repose on any arguments deduced from the age of Buonaparté. His age was forty-six—the same as the duke of Wellington; and surely no one could say that the efficiency of either was impaired by it. He remarked on the military preparations made by Buonaparté when he proposed his new constitution at the Champ de Mai, and contrasted it with the custom in England, where the military force were removed during every popular discussion. It was said that Buonaparté lost his empire because he had made one false move; the fact was, he was so closely pressed on all sides, that he had no good move left, and was, therefore, compelled to make a false one. But that necessity was evidently occasioned by the various judicious movements that had been previously made. That Buonaparté was supported principally by the soldiery, was very clear. What did he say in his different proclamations? why, he promised that every thing should be done for the honour and the advantage of the military. The main sin alleged against the Government of the Bourbons was, that under it the interest of the soldiery was not provided, for; and it was no wonder that they should adhere to that ruler who pledged himself to minister to their vanity and their ambition. In no instance did the people appear to hail the return of Buonaparté with lively satisfaction. Throughout his progress they seemed to be buried in apathy. The question was, whether the House would now oppose this individual,—who had so long disturbed Europe with his machina- tions—or wait until he was in a situation again to renew his aggressions? The noble lord had been asked, "Can you state that there will be no falling-off in the Coalition?" Undoubtedly he could not; for every alliance was subject to the operation of human feelings and human passions. But was it prudent, because a chance of its dissolution existed, that they should step forward, and precipitate that event? Under all the circumstances he should certainly vote for the Address. If they agreed to treat, and even concluded a peace with the present Government of France, they would gain nothing by it; since they would still be obliged to keep up an immense military force for the security of the country.

Mr. Ponsonby

said, he certainly never rose under the operation of such painful emotions on any former question, as he felt on the present occasion; because, in voting as he should do, he was compelled to differ from those, and particularly from a right hon. friend (Mr. Grattan) who had recently spoken, with whom he had been in the habit of acting during the whole course of a long political life. It was not in his power, after the most careful and exact consideration of this important subject, to bring his mind to adopt that course of policy, which his Majesty's ministers recommended to the House, and which his right hon. friend had so powerfully and so eloquently supported. If ministers had depended entirely on themselves for the display and defence of their own measures, it would not have been very difficult to encounter them: but he felt it almost impossible to combat the eloquence of his right hon. friend, and to oppose that voice which had hitherto been always exerted in proclaiming sentiments similar to his own. The question before the House now was, whether they would sanction, by their vote, the conduct of those ministers who had signed the Treaty of Vienna—whether the House would declare an approbation of all the articles of that Treaty? for, it was in vain to argue, that the Address now proposed did not bind them to maintain all the stipulations and engagements entered into at the Congress of Vienna—to carry on war against France, for the purpose of destroying the Government of Buonaparté, and of placing the Bourbons on the throne—and never to lay down oar arras till those objects were accomplished. The noble lord had that night told the House, that for a conside- rable time past this country had been in a state of war. From the statement of the noble lord it appeared, that from the moment Buonaparté violated the Treaty of Fontainbleau, and returned to France—from that moment was this country engaged in war. If the noble lord had made this discovery at the time he first heard of the escape of Buonaparté, he was very niggardly in stating the fact to the House; for when he put a question to the noble lord as to our relations, he was answered, "that we were not in a state of war." And when the former Address was moved, the noble lord declared "that it bound us neither to war nor peace—that the alternative remained perfectly open to the House—and that all the Address pledged us to was, a state of preparation." But now the noble lord informed them, that this country had been in a state of warfare ever since Buonaparté landed in France. He had also stated to the House, that those who were the most averse to the proceedings which had taken place in Congress, might safely vote for the Address, without binding themselves to an approval of those proceedings. He (Mr. Ponsonby) apprehended, that any gentleman who that night voted for the Address, and who, at any future time, expressed a wish to manifest his hostility to the proceedings in the Congress, might very justly be met by the noble lord with the observation, that he was precluded, by the vote he gave on this occasion, from passing any censure on those proceedings. He was not fond, in cases of this kind, of occupying the House by reading extracts; but he was still less fond, where important points were in dispute, of trusting to his own memory; he should, therefore, take the liberty of reading to the House the contract which the noble lord desired them to approve. [Mr. Ponsonby here read Articles 1, 3, and 8, of the Treaty of Vienna. The first binding the Contracting Parties to unite their resources for maintaining entire the Treaty of Paris, and certain stipulations determined on in the Congress at Vienna. The third pledging the Contracting Parties not to lay down their arms but by common consent, nor before the object of the war, designated in the first Article of the Treaty, shall have been attained; nor until Buonaparté shall have been rendered absolutely unable to create disturbance, and to renew his attempts for possessing himself of the supreme power in France. And the eighth inviting his Most Christian Majesty to accede to the Treaty; and requiring him to state, in the event of his acceding to the Treaty, what assistance circumstances would allow him to bring forward in furtherance of the grand object.] After having read this, continued Mr. Ponsonby, surely no man in the House could doubt, that, if they voted for the Address of the noble lord, they were bound to approve of, and to maintain all the stipulations agreed on and signed at the Congress of Vienna. Many of those stipulations they were unacquainted with; for though they were signed, the noble lord refused to communicate them. Some of them they were acquainted with; and he, for one, entirely condemned them. Would the House be right in now coming to a vote of approbation on that part of the proceedings of Congress, which the noble lord had owned? Would they approve of the giving up of Genoa to the King of Sardinia? Would they approve of the giving Saxony altogether, or in part, to the King of Prussia? Were they prepared to approve of that part of the proceedings of which they were ignorant—proceedings which perhaps handed Poland over to Russia; or recognized some other act equally unjust, equally impolitic, and equally oppressive, as those of which they were apprised? Let no gentleman imagine that, in voting for the Address, he did not express his approbation of every thing contained in the stipulations alluded to in the Treaty:—it was clear, from what he had read, that when he gave his suffrage in favour of the Address, he at the same moment declared his approval of those acts of Congress which were known, as well as of those of which he was ignorant. If at any future time an individual who had voted for the Address, wished to state his disapprobation of the acts of Congress, what would be the answer? Ministers would immediately say, "You, and the House, by voting in favour of the Address, declared a decided approval of that Treaty—which recognised the identical proceedings you now reprobate; and, until you can undo the Treaty, you are uselessly employed in railing against it." The most material part of this Treaty was that by which the Contracting Parties bound themselves to make war upon France, for the purpose of destroying the power of Buonaparté—and by which they entered into an engagement, never to lay down their arms but by common consent of the alliance, and until the object for which they united was accomplished. His hon. friend who spoke last, seemed to think that this was the wisest course of policy that could be pursued. He appeared to think, that there was something in the very nature of Buonaparté's power so inimical to our safety, that the moment he returned to France, but one prudent line of conduct remained for our adoption—the immediate preparation for war. Certainly, if there was something in the character of Buonaparté, and the nature of his power, that rendered war inevitable, his hon. friend's argument was correct. It would not then be a question of war, but of the time of commencing hostilities. Now, he was not one of those persons who meant to deny, that this country had a just cause of war against France. Strictly speaking, the violation of the Treaties of Paris and of Fontainbleau did constitute a cause of war. One of the considerations which induced the Allies to give better terms to France than they would have done, had they treated with Buonaparté, was, the stipulated abdication of that person—and the necessary inference was, that they expected the Bourbons to have remained on the throne of France. He did not deny, that they had a right to expect this; neither did he mean to complain of the principle, in a moral point of view, on which they proceeded to war; but he objected to the expediency of the course which was about to be adopted, and he thought a much better line of conduct might be pursued. The character of Buonaparté, it was argued, rendered it impossible to treat with him. As to the perfidy of Buonaparté being a good reason for not treating with him, he should only observe, that, if we acted always on the principle of refusing the assistance of those Sovereigns who had acted faithlessly, there was not one of those Powers with whom we were now in alliance, with whom we should not have been in a state of hostility. There was not one of them, particularly Russia and Austria, that was not in possession of advantages obtained by arts as perfidious as any of those ever made use of by Buonaparté. What was the conduct of the empress Catherine towards Poland? At the very moment when her troops were marching to dismember that unfortunate country, she wrote a letter, with her own hand (one of those autographs to which the noble lord attached such value), to the King of Poland, declaring her intention of preserving the independence of his territo- ries. This she did at the time her troops were marching to take possession of that ill-fated kingdom. Sorely Buonaparté never was implicated in a more perfidious transaction. The right hon. gentleman still farther exemplified his proposition by adverting to the scandalous conduct of Austria; who, having joined a coalition against France, when she found herself unable to continue the contest, received permission from France to seize on the ancient republic of Venice, for which, in return, France was suffered to annex the Low Countries to her territories. At a later period, when the Treaty of Paris was concluded, Europe was told that the Allied Sovereigns would restore all the ancient Governments. And how did they act? They destroyed the republic of Genoa. They went still farther. In spite of the remonstrances of those Saxon generals and soldiers, whose exertions turned the fortune of the day at Leipsic, their native country was turned over to Prussia. And the noble lord himself said, that he had no sort of objection, moral or political, to the transfer, which he conceived to be a proper punishment for the King of Saxony, and a measure likely to have a very salutary effect on the minor German Stales. This was the conduct pursued at Congress! This was the conduct the noble lord now called on the House of Commons of England to sanction! But it was said, "if you will not make war on him, he will certainly make war on you; and it is better that you should select the time, than leave it to him." This, however, was assuming the whole question. Our efforts made Buonaparté a military chief, and converted France into a great military Power; and to make him less military, and the country less hostile, we were determined to go to war. Was that the way to curb and reduce that military spirit of which so much apprehension was entertained? He conceived it must have an effect entirely opposite.—As to the abstract subject of peace or war, he was not now called on to debate it—since the noble lord had told them, that the country was actually in a state of hostility. The question merely was, "whether the House would express an opinion in favour of what had been executed at Congress?" At no time could that House be parties to a treaty. They might impeach ministers for advising that which was wrong—or they might refuse to state an opinion on that which was not fully explained to them with reference to a treaty, and that was all his noble friend intended to do. He felt that the House could not agree to the Address, since they were not acquainted with all the stipulations with which the Treaty was connected, and, therefore, he had proposed the amendment.—The right hon. gentleman then went into a minute review of the Treaty, and contended, in a very forcible argument, that, however it might be denied, the real object of the war was, not merely to dethrone Buonaparté, but to replace the House of Bourbon at the head of the French Government. This was the contract which the Allied Powers had covenanted to fulfil, and he conceived it to be a most unwise and impolitic one. They were told, however, that so favourable a time for attacking Buonaparté would never occur again, since France was not in a state to offer much resistance. His right hon. friend had described the French Ruler as being without cavalry—without money—without credit—and without title. If he were in this deplorable state, why had not our army marched into France, and driven him from the throne? Why do we wait for Austria, Russia, and Prussia, when we might obtain all the glory ourselves? He was afraid that the ardour of his right hon. friend's imagination had weakened the strength of his judgment, and, together with his hatred of Buonaparté, had caused him to overlook many difficulties which were plainly seen by others. It was argued, that the people of France were adverse to Buonaparté. He knew it was at all times difficult to collect the sentiments of a nation; but there were here very strong indications that a great portion of the French people were favourable to him. Of this he was convinced, that if they were not attached to Buonaparté, no better mode could be devised, for the purpose of creating that attachment, than carrying on the war in the manner intended. This fact was of great importance, in viewing this part of the subject, that though Louis the 18th had filled the throne of France for a year, not an arm had been raised in his defence, not a drop of blood had been shed in the protection of his rights, when Buonaparté landed in France, and he was obliged to quit the capital of his dominions, without a single effort being made to support his claim to the throne. Every moment of Buonaparté's life, they were told, showed the falseness of his nature. And the noble lord, to prove this, had referred to a French newspaper, an extract from which he had read to some persons in France, who immediately declared there was no truth in the different statements. But this was not a very happy illustration of the noble lord's position, for when the newspapers were under the influence of the French monarchical Government, they were by no means backward in the propagation of falsehoods. The noble lord must recollect the numerous fabrications which appeared in those papers from the time Buonaparté landed until he arrived in Paris.—It was argued that we were now in a better, and France in a worse state, for proceeding to war, than was the case last year. This he did not believe to be the fact. We had recently lost great numbers of excellent officers and soldiers; and he believed ministers had not yet made up the deficiency. While, on the other hand, Buonaparté having got back all his prisoners, and having made great exertions to levy additional troops, would stand in a much better situation than he did at the close of the last war, when his forces did not amount to more than 70 or 80,000 men. The right hon. gentleman then adverted to that part of the Treaty, by which the parties contracted never to lay down their arms till the object of the war was obtained. This stipulation he strongly objected to. However firm the coalition now was, we might be again deserted by our Allies, as we before had been. What then would be the consequence? Why, this country would be reduced to the humiliating situation of entering into negociations with that Power which we now contemned. The war surely might have been commenced without this country being called on to enter into such a stipulation. He was one of those, however, who thought that this country, in conjunction with her Allies, could make a peace more sure and favourable than ever could be procured by warfare. He did not mean to rely on the character of Buonaparté. He acknowledged his abilities, but he respected not his character. Still he thought that his situation might be so much altered, as to compel him to agree to such an arrangement as would give permanent security to Europe. The right hon. gentleman concluded by expressing his determination to vote for the amendment.

Mr. Plunkett

thought that the House was now, for the first time, called upon to give an opinion of the policy of peace or war, under the present circumstances of the country and of Europe. This was a question of the utmost importance, at all times, and under all circumstances. It was important as it involved the fate of many human beings, who must be sacrificed in war: it was still more important, as it involved the fate of this country, and the other nations of Europe. He was ready to admit that, to which ever side we turned, we were encountered by dangers; and that we were so surrounded with evils, that nothing was left us but a choice of evils. He should consider that man as precipitate in his judgment, and a very rash counsellor, who would pretend, at present, to foretell either the duration or the issue of this war. He would have as little confidence in the judgment of any person, who would say, that he considered that a peace negociated with Buonaparté would afford sufficient security to the country. He should have been well contented to have given a silent vole on the present occasion, if he had not found himself under the necessity of differing from those friends whom he so highly respected, with whom he had so long acted, and with whom he hoped long to act. Differing, however, so materially from them upon this question, he felt it necessary for his own justification, to explain to the House the grounds of his difference. In rising to answer the arguments of his right hon. friend who spoke last, he felt some consolation in being protected by the paramount ability of another right hon. friend who sat near him (Mr. Grattan). It appeared to him that his right hon. friend who spoke last was completely mistaken, when be conceived that the House was now called upon to give its sanction to all the stipulations of the Treaty negociated at the Congress of Vienna. The House was not called upon for any such opinion. He could see no absurd^ or impropriety in calling upon the House to sanction one part of a treaty, without calling for their opinion on all the points of it. Even if he were to admit the force of all the objections which had been made to other parts of the arrangements made at the Congress at Vienna, he should still be most decidedly of opinion on the question now before the House, that we ought, in conjunction with our Allies, to prosecute the war against Buonaparté. He really wished to hear the sincere opinion of the right hon. gen- tleman and his friends, as to what conduct the country ought to pursue under the present circumstances. Would any man say that we ought to make peace with Buonaparté, and war with our Allies; or would they say, that we should altogether desert our Allies? It had been said, that we ought to negociate with Buonaparté in concert with our Allies. If it were then admitted, that we ought to negociate in concert with our Allies, it must also be allowed, that if those negociations were not successful, we must go to war with France in concert with those Allies. How, then, was it possible to separate the cause of this country from that of the Allies, even upon the supposition of trying negociation instead of war? He did not believe that any of those who recommended negociations with Buonaparté, would deny that those negociations might be unsuccessful; and if they were carried on in concert with our Allies, we could no more desert them in war than in the negociation. He was really at a loss to perceive how the argument on the present occasion could be at all helped, by finding faults in the conduct of the Allies upon former occasions. The faithlessness of those Powers (if they had been faithless) did not apply to the present question. If it was Austria and Prussia that were preparing an attack upon this country, then we might talk about their faithlessness on former occasions. It was, however, from France and the faithlessness of her Government that danger to this country was apprehended. What answer was it to this apprehension, to say that other Powers had been faithless too? Such an answer had evidently nothing to do with the question now before the House. As long as France chose to submit to the Government of Buonaparté, he could see that neither honour, nor peace, nor any thing that was desirable for this country, could be expected by entering into a negociation with him. As to the right of interfering with the internal affairs of any other country, he should admit, that as long as their internal arrangements did not menace the peace and security of other countries, there could be no right to interfere: but, when the internal arrangements of one country did threaten the peace and security of others, it appeared to him as clear as the light, that interference was justifiable. If it were asked, whether any thing in the personal character of a ruler would justify other nations in not treating with him, he should answer by stating a supposed case. Supposing, then, that any nation should, in time of peace, put itself into an extraordinary state of preparation for war,—if that nation should organize itself in such a manner as to be perpetually prepared for commencing offensive war—if that nation should embody itself under the command of a military chief of great talent and experience in the art of war—if, for 15 years, Europe had experienced that the efforts of that nation were uniformly directed to aggression, conquest, and spoliation,—if Europe had been obliged in self-defence to carry its arms into the heart of that country, if the capital of that country was taken—if the conquerors in their magnanimity and moderation offered a peace which was accepted with gratitude—if that Treaty was accepted with gratitude by that individual who abdicated the throne, and if, after ten months, that guilty individual was to be recalled by a licentious soldiery, for the purpose of fresh aggression—was he then to be told in that House, that neither we nor the other nations of Europe, had any right of interference with the internal arrangements of such a nation? How did it happen, that the just and legitimate Sovereign of France had been driven from his throne? It was because his unambitious virtue made him appear to the soldiery, not to be a proper instrument to wield the unsocial and unnatural energies of the French empire. If it were said that personal character had nothing to do with the question, he should ask, why was the Treaty of Paris ever entered into? That Treaty turned entirely on personal character, and those stipulations were considered satisfactory when made with the lawful Sovereign of France, that would not have been entered into with Buonaparté. If we were to take the common feeling of mankind upon this subject, we must recollect how universally the abdication of Buonaparté was hailed in this country, as an event more important than the most brilliant victories. Our question was, not now merely with Buonaparté, but it was with France. She had purchased the benefits of the Treaty of Paris, by giving up Buonaparté, and taking her lawful Sovereign, in whom Europe had confidence. If we were now to declare that we were ready to treat with Buonaparté, it would at once put an end to the coalition. If we were to tell the French people that we were ready to negociate with Buonaparté as their ruler, it would at once destroy all the hopes that might now fairly be entertained of the co-operation of a considerable portion of the nation. When, how, ever, we saw the situation in which Buonaparté now stood; when we saw him reduced to make professions contrary to his very nature; when we saw the vessel in which his fortunes were embarked labouring with the storm, and its mast bowed down to the water's edge, it would be the height of impolicy and absurdity to hesitate on the course that we had to pursue. We had now a most powerful combination of allies, not fomented by us, bat acting from the moral feeling which pervaded all Europe. If we were foolish enough to throw away those means, we could never hope to recall them. Those of his friends who had talked the most about husbanding the resourses of the country, had confessed, that when an occasion should arrive, when some important blow could be struck against the enemy, that system should no longer be persevered in. That important crisis had now arrived. It was rain to expect that a more favourable opportunity would ever arrive. All the great Powers of Europe were now with us, and a considerable portion of the population of France. It had been said, that invading France would be the way to unite the population of that country. The fact, however, was directly the reverse. The not invading France would be the sure means of reducing the whale population under the power of the present ruler. He considered that we had, in fact, no option between peace and war. As for peace, we could have no more than a feverish, unrefreshing dream of peace, still haunted by the spectre of war. In point of finances, we should find a peace with a war establishment, an evil much greater than war itself. If we did not now go to war in conjunction with all the great Powers of Europe, we would soon foe reduced to a war single-handed against France. IF we did not now invade France, and carry oh the war upon her territories, the time might arrive when our country would become the seat of war, and we should fall unpitied and despised. If we were now to turn our back upon the great Powers that were our allies, we should deserve that alt nations should turn their backs upon us, when we began to feel the consequences of our impolicy.

Mr. Tierney

thought it a most unwise thing, and unprecedented in the history of the world, to commence a war for the mere purpose of getting rid of one man. When the Allies last year talked of giving better terms to France in consequence of the restoration of the Bourbons, they by that very language implied that some terms would have been granted to Buonaparté, and certainly did not sanction the idea that there could be no peace with that individual. Buonaparté had committed no new atrocities since that period. He did not believe, indeed, that his character was at all changed; doubtless, he would wish to be at the head of a powerful army, to wipe away what he considered a stain on his military reputation; but for that very reason, this country should not be anxious to put him in such a situation. At present he firmly believed, that the popular feeling in France was for peace; nor did he think that Buonaparté had the disposal of the army. Carnot and the Constitution-mongers, as they were called, had immense influence over the military, and it certainly was not their object to have a military government. As the Allies, it was very evident, did not stir without the stimulus of our subsidy, Buonaparté would have a strong case to urge against what he would call the restlessness and ambition of this country. For ourselves, though we might not now be in the situation to want peace on any terms, yet he sincerely believed that in two years we should be in such a condition. He feared that the real object of the war was to replace the Bourbons, though the ministers did not venture to avow such an intention; for they knew that not even in that House, and much less in the country, would they meet with support if they openly declared that they were actuated by such a motive. The good sense of the country would never submit to such a cause of going to war. Mr. Tierney said he firmly believed, it would be impossible to continue the war for two years without the ruin of public credit, and that it was altogether visionary to suppose that the contest could be a short one.

Lord Milton

declared, that he went to a vote on this question with trembling and pain, and that he felt compelled to state the reasons which induced him to dissent from his noble friend, and to vote for the Address. These were, that Buonaparté had been guilty of a breach of faith, that the French nation were, what was called in law, accessaries after the fact, and that Europe was placed, with relation to France, precisely in the state which she was before the Treaty of Paris. The noble lord thought it was better to have war with the advantages of war, than peace without the advantages of peace; and considering, as he did, that no faith could be placed in the present ruler of France, he was convinced, that the only real security we could have, was to be found in a vigorous prosecution of the war.

The House then divided:

For the Amendment	92
Against it	331
Majority	239

The Address was then agreed to.

List of the Minority.
Abercrombie, hon. J.	Lyttelton, hon. W. H.
Althorpe, viscount	Leach, W.
Anson, sir G.	Langton, Gore
Atherley, Arthur	Madocks, Wm.
Bennet, hon. H. G.	Martin, J.
Bernard, viscount	Martin, H.
Bewicke, C.	Maitland, hon. A.
Birch, J.	Monck, sir C.
Brand, hon. T.	Moore, Peter
Byng, George	Morpeth, visc.
Burdett, sir F.	Mostyn, sir T.
Butterworth, J.	Molyneux, hon. H.
Buller, James	North, D.
Cavendish, H.	Newport, sir J.
Cavendish, hon. F. C.	Neville, hon. R.
Campbell, hon. J.	Paulett, hon. W. V.
Campbell, gen. D.	Parnell, sir H.
Coke, T. W.	Pierse, H.
Chaloner, Robert	Philips, G.
Dundas, Charles	Piggott, sir A.
Dundas, hon. L.	Prittie, hon. F.
Duncannon, visc.	Plumer, Wm.
Doveton, Gabriel	Ponsonby, rt. hon. G.
Fitzgerald, rt. hon. M.	Power, R.
Fitzroy, lord J.	Pym, F.
Fergusson, sir R.	Ramsden, J. C.
Foley, hon. A.	Ridley, sir M. W.
Foley, T.	Romilly, sir S.
Greenhill, Robert	Rowley, sir W.
Gordon, Robert	Russell, lord W.
Grant, J. P.	Scudamore, R. P.
Graham, Sandford	Sebright, sir John
Guise, sir Wm.	Shelley, Tim.
Halsey, Joseph	Smyth, J. H.
Hamilton, lord A.	Smith, Wm.
Hanbury, Wm.	Stanley, lord
Heathcote, sir G.	Taylor, M. A.
Heron, sir R.	Taylor, C. W.
Hornby, Edmund	Tavistock, marquis
Hurst, Robt.	Tierney, rt. hon. G.
Homer, Francis	Walpole, hon. G.
Howorth, H.	Western, C. C.
Latouche, R.	Wharton, J.
Lemon, sir Wm.	Williams, Owen
Lloyd, J. M.	Winnington, sir T.
Lloyd, sir Edw.	Whitbread, Sam.

TELLERS.	Tighe, Wm.
Cavendish, lord G.	Jekyll, Joseph
Smith, John	Spiers, A.
PAIRED OFF.	Calvert, Charles
Mackintosh, sir J.	Osborne, lord F.