STATE OF THE REPRESENTATION.

HC Deb 20 May 1817 vol 36 cc704-812

Sir Francis Burdett

rose, to bring forward his promised motion upon the subject of a Reform in Parliament, and addressed the House nearly as follows:—

I feel myself placed, Sir, in rather an awkward situation, in proceeding to discharge my duty—that of bringing under the consideration of the House the motion of which I have given notice. At any previous period, I should have thought I had performed all that could be demanded of me, if I presented to this House strong and decisive grounds for believing, that the elections of members to serve in parliament were not of that description, which, according to the law and constitution of England, they ought to be. At any former period, I should have thought it merely sufficient to state, that not in one or two cases of election only, but that in elections generally, and almost uniformly, the practices which prevailed in returning members to this House combined in them principles that were most hostile to the constitution of the country, and consequently most destructive of the rights and liberties of the people. In a word, I should have thought, if I laid evidence before the House, to induce it to believe that gross and notorious corruption existed in the election of its members, that I had done all that it was necessary for me to do, in order to bring under the consideration of parliament, an evil of such great magnitude—an evil which is fatal to the vital interests of the constitution, and to the prosperity and welfare of the country. But I now feel myself placed in a peculiar situation; because that which at former periods would have been heard of with disgust, and looked to with abhorrence in this House, as it undoubtedly is by the public out of it—and which would have induced gentlemen to agree with me in the necessity of applying some measure as a remedy to the evil—is now no longer viewed with feelings of abhorrence. It seems, Sir, that a new doctrine has been promulgated upon this subject, and that that which in better times would have been stigmatized as the basest and most pernicious species of corruption, is now proclaimed to be the legitimate and regular means of carrying on the government of the country. We are now told, and un-blushingly told, that corruption, both within and without these walls, is absolutely necessary, in order to carry on the business of the executive government; and that the seeds of that corruption, which were hitherto considered destructive of the constitution, are, in fact, the seeds from which the constitution sprang, and support that practical government under which the people of this country ought to live. I also feel it peculiarly awkward, that I am, on this occasion, obliged to address myself to those persons, of whose actions I have, at the same time, reason to complain. It is certainly a very awkward predicament, for any man to come and ask redress from those whom he accuses, and of whose injuries he complains. It is curious to ask of an individual to grant a remedy, to afford a redress of evils, which you complain he has himself committed. But, I am persuaded, that the House, when it comes to consider the general voice of the people out of doors—when it looks to the numerous petitions laid on our table—when it reflects on the still more numerous body of petitions that have been rejected—all of them complaining that great grievances exist in the country, all of them stating that the corruption of parliament is the principal point from which those grievances spring, and calling for a redress of them—will admit, that more petitions have been presented on this subject, than on any other occasion whatever—and I hope they will produce a proper effect on the minds of those whom I am now addressing. Formerly, it was said, when motions on the subject of parliamentary reform were made in this House, "The people do not desire reform. Where are your petitions from Birmingham, from Manchester, and from other places that are denied the privilege of sending members to parliament? There are only so many petitions before the House, expressing the sentiments of a very small number of persons." Sir, there are now petitions on the table from Birmingham and Manchester, most numerously signed. There are petitions not only from these places, but from every part of the country, bearing not less than a million of signatures. Whether gentlemen believe the statements contained in these petitions to be well grounded or not—whether they believe that the evil can or cannot be removed—whether or not they give credit to the facts, or the allegations stated in them, as facts—they will, I should suppose, think it rather indecent not to institute some inquiry into grievances so generally felt and so generally complained of.

It has been said, that parliamentary reform is a wild and visionary speculation, that many of these petitioners have demanded that which was never in former times, which never had existence except in the imagination of the petitioners. It has been said, that they entertain a mere visionary notion—that they are deluded by the new-fangled doctrines of the present day. At the outset, one of the points of reform for which they contend, namely, Annual parliaments, was so designated. It is, Sir, really curious that gentlemen can pay so little attention to the real history of their country, as to consider that annual parliaments were unusual—because it appears quite plain, from the earliest periods, the history of which has been partly delivered down by the writers of those days, and partly by tradition, that annual parliaments were the constant practice and usage, for centuries, in this country. This may not, perhaps, be a matter of great importance to the question; because it may be said, "It is not so much what was, that we should consider, as what ought to be." But, Sir, it strengthens the claim to a man's rights, if he can shew that the claim is founded on the practice of remote periods. And, certainly, it is a complete answer to those who say that the doctrine of annual parliaments is new fangled, if it appears that it is as old, and even older, than the time of William the Conqueror. If tradition can trace it to such a remote period—if the earliest law-writers speak of the practice—what becomes of the assertion that the doctrine is novel? Andrew Horn, one of the most ancient authorities, who edited, though he did not write "The Mirror of Justices," a work of which lord Coke thought very highly, expressly says, "that the parliament was to meet twice a year. The king might call parliaments oftner; but they met as matter of course, for the purpose of controlling any undue authority in the state, and in order to remove abuses, which, in every State were continually rising up, twice in each year." If you find, Sir, that this principle of law was preserved in the code of William the conqueror—if you find that the king swore to obey that law—if that monarch, falsely called the conqueror of England, but who certainly aspired to the Crown, declared that "he would govern by parliament, and the free usages and customs of this countrjy'—can it be said that the doctrine is one of the present day? It is of no use to say that king William, like many other kings, was a perjured monarch. The circumstance shews the spirit of our ancestors; it proves that they never abandoned their rights; and, indeed, § the whole history of England brings to our view a manly feeling amongst our forefathers to place the Crown on the head of him, who, they believed, would best preserve those rights, liberties, and privileges, which they never lost sight of.

If we come down to a somewhat later period—to the reign of Henry 3rd, when parliaments were said to be better constituted, we shall find it said, that, to discontinue the holding of parliaments annually, must be considered as a great abuse, and one which could not be admitted. From the time of Edward 1st, down to that of Edward 3rd, and almost to the reign of Edward 4th, it appears that annual parliaments were resorted to. Now, that there were some instances of kings who did not call frequent parliaments, and who were, in consequence, dethroned, I admit to be true. But I say, still, that the people of England never abandoned their right to depute a part of their body to watch over their interests in the House of Commons. The laws of Edward 3rd, declared parliaments to be annual. I know it may be said, that though parliament might meet annually, it was not therefore annually to be elected. I must then inquire, what was the practice? For I know no other way of coming to the true exposition of an obsolete law, but by looking to the way in which it was administered. Now, during the whole of the reign of Edward 3rd,—and a more glorious period is scarcely to be found in the annals of our country—annual parliaments uniformly prevailed. Even the law of annual parliaments did not mean, that parliaments should continue for an entire year—but that the king should not suffer a year to pass by without calling one. They separated at the end of a short session, of perhaps forty days or two months—but none of them continued for a year; and, in one instance, no less than five new elections took place within that period. When we see that it was the practice and the letter of the law—when we find that the whole frame of the constitution depended on having frequent parliaments—how can it be argued that the principle is one of yesterday's growth? With respect to the right of proroguing parliament, the monarch knew it did not mean, that he had the power to prorogue parliaments as often as he pleased, and for as long a time as he pleased. It was imperative on him not to let a year pass by without calling a parliament. From the works which have been lately written on this subject—(which display so much argument, ability, and research into ancient records, that they must make this important subject clear to every gentleman)—it seems quite evident, that, from the earliest time down to the 23d of Henry 6th, our ancestors were in the constant habit of having parliaments twice and three times in the course of a year—and no instance occurs of any parliament continuing longer than a year.

Then we come down to the time of the civil wars—the period of the dispute between the Houses of York and Lancaster. This was not a time from which precedents can be drawn. At that period, one party endeavoured to put down the other— and each, in turn, sought to attain their ambitious ends by force and violence. But even then it is extraordinary to remark how few instances there were of parliaments being kept long together; and though the abuse of long parliaments might be said to be established, yet that system was not much acted on until the time of Henry 8th; and, Sir, the circumstances which occasioned that monarch to pursue the course he had adopted, affords a strong argument in my favour. When Henry 8th wanted to get a divorce from his wife, and had quarrelled with the pope and with the clergy, he sat about effecting what was called the Reformation—and, for that purpose, he kept his parliament together for five years; the longest time that parliament had ever before been continued. The reason of his doing so appears obvious. Henry, being anxious to carry measures which were not in conformity with the sentiments of the great bulk of the people—which were not supported by the generality of the nation, but by a party in the nation—found it necessary, for that purpose, to continue the parliament. He wished to govern without the nation, and to do acts, by the assistance of parliament, which the people disliked—which they would not have borne him out in—and, therefore, he kept together that set of men, who, he was sure, would give him support in carrying them into effect. This circumstance is noticed by bishop Burnet, in his History of the Reformation, who says, "The king had taken great pains to procure an obedient parliament—every means were used to assist him in effecting his favourite objects." Therefore it was, that he kept the parliament together—he was unwilling to part with them—and he did not, in fact, part with them, until he had carried those two favourite measures—the divorce from his queen, and the reformation, which may be denominated the plunder of the church; for religion, Sir, was then made use of, as it is in the present time, as a cloak for the concealment of other objects.

Edward 6th, being at the head of the reforming party, kept the parliament together for a long time—for a period of not less than five years. Then comes the reign of queen Mary, which was justly censured as a bloody reign. But no person can be surprised, that the Catholics, who were the bulk of the nation, smarting under the persecutions they had suffered, and irritated by the loss of their property—it is not surprising, though I do not mean to say it is justifiable, that they should retaliate, under the cloak of religion, on that party, who had injured them, and who did not, by any means, form a majority of the people. When Mary came into power, the first thing she did, in order to shew that she was not governing against the will of the people, was, to repeal all the statutes relating to constructive treason, which Henry 8th, had enacted. She placed the law of treason on the same footing as that on which it had been placed by the 25th of Edward 3d. And, extraordinary as it may appear, an Englishman, at this time of day, is not so safe, so far as life and liberty are concerned, as he was under the reign of her who was emphatically called bloody queen Mary. Knowing that she was governing according to the general wishes and feelings of the country, she had recourse to the constitutional practice of short parliaments, and during her reign, there was not a single parliament that lasted for anything like a year—the longest continued only nine months.

I now come to the reign of queen Elizabeth. In her time there were only two long parliaments. The wisdom of her government transcends all praise. Too wise to force, too honourable to impose upon the people a system of government inconsistent with the principles and practice of the constitution; without millions of money to corrupt, without laws to oppress, without a standing 3rmy to overpower; she gained the affections, and ensured the obedience of her people, by the wisdom and vigour of her administration. In her reign there were two long parliaments.

When the family of the Stuarts came to the throne, many unconstitutional prin- ciples were introduced. Parliaments were continued for a long time; but the people did not see any thing dangerous in the system, and the reason is extremely clear: they knew nothing of the evil effects produced by long parliaments, but they felt, in some degree, the want of parliaments. It was, therefore, no wonder that the system should be established (though it was an abuse) of keeping parliaments together for years, because no evil was then felt from it.—We now approach the interesting and eventful reign of Charles 1st, who was not content to govern according to the example of his great predecessor, queen Elizabeth, or according to those laws to which the people of England had been so firmly attached, through a long scries of ages. He endeavoured to govern without a parliament, and having made Westminster-hall subservient to his views—having fortified all his illegal encroachments on the liberty of the subject, by the opinions of the greatest lawyers of that or of any other day—(lawyers whom he had at his command)—having made the law subversive of the freedom of, the country, he was still unable to carry his designs into execution, because he had not a standing army to support and follow up his views. If he had had a standing army to support the doctrines of the lawyers of Westminster-hall—to support the doctrines of the law officers of the Crown— we, Sir, I imagine, should not now be considering this question of the constitutional duration of parliaments. To these measures there was, Sir, a constant resistance, and at length it became necessary, for his own purposes, to call a parliament. And as Charles had not at his disposal, those millions which the minister of the day can now command—as he had not the means of corrupting members of the House of Commons—it was immaterial to the people who were sent into parliament, or how the elections were conducted. No means of corrupting the electors, out of doors existed; and it was impossible that any body of individuals could be placed in parliament, who were not, with the people at large, indignant at the unconstitutional doctrines that had been broached, and who were not, above all things, firmly attached to the liberties of their country. We know, Sir, how that unfortunate struggle between the king and his parliament ended.—During the time of the civil wars that followed, the parliament having continued for a long time, and a few indi- viduals having procured extraordinary influence—like other bodies, wishing to retain great power, when once they had got it—and beginning to consider their own interests, instead of the interests of the state, that parliament which had done so much for the people of England—which had acted with such consummate ability— which had braved so much distress and danger—atlength became itself a grievance to the country. Having passed an act to render their duration perpetual, they were felt to be a most serious evil, a most intolerable grievance, to that country which they had served. It was, therefore, considered necessary that one great man should step forward and get rid of that grievance. Now, with respect to that great man, Oliver Cromwell, it was a little singular that he was himself a determined parliamentary reformer. Having assumed the highest power of the state, and removed the obnoxious parliament, he offered to this country a plan and frame of parliament, the best that could possibly be devised; one so fair and equitable, that even lord Clarendon was obliged to admit its excellence. He said, "it was a plan that should have come from a better quarter—from a more warrantable person —and in better times." But he evidently thought that it was a proposition which amply provided for the welfare and glory of the country. Cromwell, however, found it impossible to go on with this plan, because the new parliament did not like him. He then was left with this alternative—either to give up his place and situation, which was to resign himself to the gallows, or to support, by the sword, what he had gained by the sword. He adopted the latter.

The people having suffered much, having struggled much, as they have always been ready to do, for a free constitution, hailed with pleasure the return of Charles 2nd; they looked upon it as a new era, that was to produce freedom and prosperity. One would suppose that any man, who I possessed a human heart, would feel rejoiced, when he was restored to his native country—when he was received, with delight, by millions of people, who hoped that he would be the instrument of placing I the constitution on that foundation of freedom, which the sacrifices they had made, I and were ready to make, entitled them to expect. Charles, however, had, unfortunately, no feeling—he possessed a base mind and a cold, unfeeling, disposition. But though, during his reign, the people bore acts of tyranny, which they hardly had the patience to suffer, he, taking warning from the conduct for which his father lost his head, though he wished to govern in a manner equally arbitrary, determined to proceed in a different way. He therefore attempted, and effected, the corruption of the House of Commons. Having got a House of Commons to his mind—not that which invited him over— not composed of those men who said, at the time, that the generous folly of the nation should have been checked—and, amongst the rest, lord Clarendon, who observed, that, "the nation, in its unsuspecting generosity, had given those powers which, if withheld, would have kept this family on the throne, and prevented all those mischiefs that had befallen them"—he took advantage of that unsuspecting generosity, and a system of corruption was resorted to, in order to undermine the government of that people, who called him to preside over them, when he was a wanderer on the face of the earth. He wished to establish popery in this country, at a time when the Protestant religion had made such progress that the Catholics had become a minority of the people. He continued a parliament for sixteen years. That parliament, which was called the "Pensioner Parliament," would not go the length he desired. They would not make the prince independent of the parliament, nor would they let him govern by the agency of a standing army. He therefore dissolved them; and the end of his reign was marked by disputes with his people, similar to those which had distinguished that of his father. Though he did not live to be the victim of those disputes, their effect was visited severely on his family. James 2nd made several attacks on the constitution. One of them was the attempt to return members to parliament by corruption and undue election. Proceeding in a still more headlong course, he brought the people to a crisis they had been long approaching—and he was obliged to abdicate the throne, and fly the country.

I now come to that period of our history where I may be allowed to take my stand upon constitutional rights; when the privileges of the constitution, derived from that time, will not be considered as traced to too remote an era; when, in advocating them I shall not be reproached with inculcating new-fangled doctrines; or when, in urging a recurrence to those principles, I shall not be accused of an intention to subvert, the constitution. Let, us then, look to the Declaration of the prince of Orange, dated from the Hague. I find in it, amongst a great number of reasons for undertaking the government of this country, various acts of an accusatory nature, alleged against king James. The corruption of the legal administration of the country is particularly mentioned. It is there stated, that "the judges of Westminster-hall had become the instruments of arbitrary power (than which no greater crime could exist against the constitution of the country), namely, by causing juries to be unfairly and partially empanelled." But the main grievance which was put in the front of the declaration, was the corruption of the House of Commons. I mean not the corruption, by the Crown, of the House of Commons, but the packing of parliaments; the king using means to pack a parliament, by corrupting the electors, and also by corrupting members when returned to this House, without the exertion of such influence. The prince of Orange declared, that he would have a full and free parliament. He saw the grievances of the previous reign, and he bound himself to remedy them. "But," as he says, "those grievances can only be redressed by a free and lawful parliament." When a petition was presented to James, by those who were his best friends—who did not desert him in his need—who pointed out to him the mischievous effects of his corrupt policy—who, wishing not to drive him from the throne, but to keep him on. it, petitioned for a redress of grievances, and above all, demanded that a parliament, free in all its circumstances, should be called without delay; he, at once, premised all these things: "But," said be, "how can I call a parliament, free in all its circumstanses, unless the prince of Orange withdraws from this country; he can influence a hundred electors for every one who will act impartially?"

From all this it appears, Sir, that the corrupting of parliaments was considered a high offence in the highest quarter; an offence for which two kings have lost their thrones. I say two kings; for in the articles of accusation against Richard 2d, one I of them was for packing a parliament, and another, that he had kept the parliament together an unusual length of time. Now, what was that unusual period alluded to? Only five months; which at that time was considered a duration greater than the forms of the constitution allowed. I am aware that the king has always a right to prorogue parliament if he sees occasion. But then it must be for some sufficient cause: for example, when the plague raged in London, the sitting of parliament was merely prorogued without dissolving it. The power is to be used in a moderate manner, and not to be abused, as it has been, by proroguing to any extent which the sovereign may think fit. Richard 2d, then, was deposed, and James 2d was expelled, for tampering with elections. By the Bill of Rights it is expressly declared, that elections shall be perfectly free; but, if this were not mentioned in direct words, the very idea of an election must declare that such freedom was contemplated. If this is the case,—if the facts I have stated cannot be overturned,—what shall we say of individuals, who exercise a power of doing that which the Crown was never allowed to do with impunity in the best periods of our history?

I now come, Sir, to that part of the subject which has more immediate reference to the question at present before us. And here I could have wished to have had the petition read at your table, which was presented to this House by Mr. Grey, in the year 1793,—a petition admirably drawn up by a committee of gentlemen, who had associated themselves together for the purpose of promoting a reform in the representation. This petition is so complete in its details,—so unanswerable in its arguments,—so convincing in its proofs, that I earnestly wish it was impressed on the mind of every one who now hears me. It so completely dissects the House of Commons, that it is really wonderful to me how the House has continued to sit as a branch of the legislature, after the introduction of that petition, without instituting some inquiry into the truth of its allegations. What are those allegations? This petition* has been, of late, so frequently printed, that there are few gentlemen who are ignorant of its contents. After stating a vast number of circumstances with respect to the mode of electing members in various places, and pointing out all the grievances that arise from this imperfect system of representation, they came to this conclusion, "that 84 individuals do, ^*For a copy of this Petition, see New Parliamentary History, Vol. 30, p. 788. by their own immediate authority, send 157 of your honourable members to parliament, and this your petitioners are ready, if the fact be disputed, to prove, and to name the members and their patrons." Here, Sir, are 84? individuals, who, it is asserted, send 157 members to parliament. Is this, I ask, an abuse, or is it not? [Hear, hear!] Is this a system of representation that ought to be tolerated? Is it consistent with the spirit and provisions of the constitution, that the nominees of these 84 gentlemen should be considered the fair representatives of the Commons of England? This number, Sir, let it be observed, is full two-thirds of the House which I am now addressing. But does the grievance end here? No, Sir; the petition goes on to allege, that "in addition to the 157 honourable members above-mentioned, 150 more, making in the whole 307, are returned to your honourable House, not by the collective voice of those whom they appear to represent, but by the recommendation of 70 powerful individuals, added to the 84; before-mentioned, and making the total number of patrons altogether only 154, who return a decided majority of your honourable House." Thus, Sir, one hundred and fifty-four borough proprietors claim the right of disposing of the property, lives, and liberties of millions of the inhabitants of this country [Hear, hear!]. I ask, is this a state that can be endured, when it comes, as it now does, to be generally known? I would say, if there must be undue power, let it rather be placed in the hands of the Crown than within the reach of those individuals who awe the executive government, white they deprive the people of their rights, and unite in themselves all those powers which every constitution, that has in view the good of the community, has constantly attempted to fetter. When such a system exists, how idle is it for us to read in the able writers on the constitution of England, the praises of that constitution! Mr. Justice Blackstone,—who, in his day, was thought to be rather a court lawyer, but whose book (so retrograde have been the minds of English gentlemen on this subject) is now branded by the opprobrious epithet of Jacobinical—says, that when there is a free constitution of King, Lords, and Commons, that freedom consists in those component parts being independent of each other—and, above all, that the controlling power of the Commons House of Parliament should be kept so completely separate, as not to admit a chance of its being acted on by the other two parts.— For if its independence should hereafter be encroached upon by the king, or the House of Lords—should either be able to influence it—there must be an end of the British constitution. And farther, he says, that "if any alteration might be wished or suggested in the present frame of parliaments, it should be m favour of a more complete representation of the people." He farther says, that "every man is, in judgment of law, party to making an act of parliament, being present thereat, by his representatives;" and that "the lawfulness of punishing criminals is founded upon this principle, that the law by which they suffer was made by their own consent."

I hope I shall not be told, Sir, that this House represents the people in this fair sense. It is the representative of a small aristocracy, or rather of 154 borough proprietors. They are the King, Lords, and Commoners—they have the purse-strings of the nation at their command—they may alter the constitution as they please. Upon the abstract question of the theory of governments, the human mind has been, from the most early periods, divided. Writers of high eminence have given the grounds of their respective preferences; some have selected simple monarchy, some have preferred an aristocracy, while a democracy has had strong recommendations in the opinion of others. But what writer has ever thought of proposing an oligarch}', as a government ever to be endured? In on aristocracy, where men of the greatest property in the country, and of course of cultivated and enlarged understanding, must be presumed to govern, it may very naturally be inferred that the public interest will predominate; for on what grounds can it be argued, that a separate object should prevail: The same may also be said of the Crown; for though some monarchs may be so senseless as not to discern their true interests, yet a politic prince will soon see that his ease and security are best identified with the happiness of his subjects, and a noble-minded sovereign will naturally direct his views to obtain the approbation of a grateful people—to a generous mind the most gratifying incense. We are all well acquainted with the stupendous effects of democracies—the reading of our early life has left indelible impressions of those unequalled energies displayed by the small states, where the government was purely popular. In exciting the energies, whether of genius, of government, or of industry, that branch bore the palm over the rest. At all events, under all the respective systems, nations have been happy— all are comparatively good, when contrasted with that of an oligarchy—and of all possible descriptions of oligarchy, that under which this country suffers is the worst. For what more hateful and oppressive system can there be, than to have the rights of a free people at the control and mercy of an oligarchy of borough-mongers many of whom have no property at stake, unless what they assume to be property—a property in the representation of the people, and by which they usurp the power of plundering the property of every man in the country. And how unaccountable is it that this system of flagrant and undeniable abuse should exist in violation of the spirit of the constitution —in positive defiance of the law of the land—in disregard of your own declared resolutions, which are solemnly read at the beginning of every session, or at least of every new parliament. It is, Sir, a recorded resolution of this House, that no peer shall interfere with the election of a representative of the people. Yet at the very time that we are going through the farce of making this declaration, it is undeniable, that eighty four individuals do by their immediate authority nominate one hundred and fifty-seven members of this House.

But it is not, Sir, the resolutions of this House that alone forbid such interference; positive enactments, to the number of one hundred and fifty, have pronounced its illegality. The statute of Westminster the first, prohibits any interference of great persons with elections, and expressly enacts, that they shall be free. It is written in old French, and says, that no great man shall disturb the electors when in the exercise of their duties; that, "because elections ought to be free, the king commandeth upon great forfeiture, that no man, by force of arms, nor by malice menacing, shall disturb any to make free election." This law is the foundation of the resolution passed at the beginning of every session, "That it is a high infringement of the liberties and privileges of the Commons of Great Britain, for any lord of parliament, or any lord lieutenant of any county, to concern themselves in the elections of members to serve for the Commons in Parliament." What, Sir, has now become of this law and this resolution? They have been allowed to sleep— they are never acted upon, or rather they are perpetually broken, and have become a dead letter. At the period of the Revolution, much was promised to be done for the liberties of the people—and much might have been done, Sir, if instead of the long declaration of rights, a single line had been passed, providing for the calling parliaments together at certain stated times, and also devising means to carry that provision into absolute effect. This would have done more service than the long bill of rights. A resolution was agreed to, at the time of the Revolution, to restrain the power so scandalously abused before that event took place—I mean the ex-officio informations of attorneys-general. The convention parliament, like that at the restoration, was too much imbued with the principles of the Revolution—to be in favour with the court. It was not suffered to remain long together, and could not, in consequence, do away with ex-officio informations, and effect other objects, which were very desirable. It may be proper to mark how we have got on since. At the Revolution ex-officio informations were declared, by a resolution, to be illegal, and never, till very lately, were they supported by law, and established by act of parliament. We ought to have protected the subject against this oppressive measure—but we have given, in fact, a new power to the attorney-general—the power of sending any man to prison, or of holding him to bail, at his mere will and pleasure.

When such a state of things is suffered to exist, what becomes, Sir, of all the fine panegyrics on the English law? What become of my lord Coke's praises of the constitution, in his luminous exposition of the principles of Magna Charta? What signifies telling us, that no Englishman can be put in prison, without indictment found? What signifies telling us, that two juries must examine his case, before trial—one, composed of unbiassed men, who are to examine whether there is any ground for putting him in jeopardy at all —and a second equally disinterested, to decide finally on his case? Yet the ablest lawyers, the most venerable authorities, have declared those securities and muniments of the people, to be the leading features of the British constitution. In our degenerate time to talk of the protec- tion and the blessings of that constitution, is all a mere rhapsody. We may, indeed, read of it, but with as much reference to reality as if we were perusing a novel. It appears like a sort of fairy enchantment—something very delightful to behold, but when we approach to touch it, it is so fragile, that out of regard for it, no doubt, the boroughmongers, in the least pressure of public difficulty, have been in the constant practice to suspend its most wholesome provisions [Hear, hear!]. There is no truth, Sir, more generally admitted by political writers than this, that when the forms of a free government are arrayed against its spirit, and the very institutions of a free state are by underhand means perverted from their purposes, the danger is greatest and most difficult to be resisted. This, Sir, is not a new doctrine —it is not the romantic speculation of a beardless boy, with his imagination warm with the impressions of his early studies— it is the profound inference of the celebrated Montesquieu, who after twenty years devotion to the science and practice of government, declared that, "as Rome, Sparta, and Carthage, have lost their liberty and perished, so the constitution of England will in time lose its liberty, will perish: it will perish, whenever the legislative power shall become more corrupt than the executive."

But, Sir, in the present day, a doctrine of a contrary nature has been introduced —in the present day acknowledged corruption has its open defenders. A right hon. gentleman opposite will deny all that I have stated. He tells us, that we cannot go on with the business of the government, unless there is corruption in the House of Commons. All I say in reply is, that the writers on this subject, both of our own and of foreign countries, are of a different opinion. Our own laws are decisive on this point. We have above one hundred and fifty laws on our statute book, to prevent that which the right hon. gentleman says is necessary to carry on the government of the country. Mr. Locke, that able and argumentative writer, who exerted his great powers in defence of the British constitution, tells us, so far from this being the case, that "the executive magistrate acts contrary to his trust, if he employs the force, treasure, and offices of the society to corrupt the representatives, or openly to pre-engage the electors, and prescribes what manner of persons shall be chosen: for thus to regulate candidates and electors, and new model the ways of election, is to cut up the government by the roots, and poison the very fountain of public security." And Machiavel observes, that "it is curious, that a principle should be argued as good and useful in government, which is universally rejected as bad in every case of private life."

But, Sir, this House of Commons has, at different times, agreed to purge itself. Even in the reign of Charles 2d. the Commons came to a resolution, that the members of the then existing parliament should take an oath that they had not received any thing from the Crown themselves, nor any person for them, during a certain period. Now, though they accused themselves of being corrupt, by this resolution, yet they also proved a desire to reform that corruption. It appears to me, Sir, to argue back a little, that corruption in the House of Commons is an evil of the first magnitude; and when carried to this extent, that individuals have the power of nominating a set of persons to sit in parliament—such a fact is quite sufficient to prove the necessity of inquiry and reform. When we speak of corruption, I think a very indistinct and confused notion prevails on the subject. Corruption is named differently, according to the matter to which it applies. If it refers to matters of a religious nature, it is called simony. When any thing is done contrary to those habits which are established in society, and are called morals, it is denominated immorality. But, an aberration from a just line of policy, in a public man, is termed corruption. An individual may be as honest a man in private life, as any that breathes; but if he pursue an interest distinct from the great bulk of the community, he must be considered, politically, a corrupt man. It is said, in answer to this charge of political corruption against a body—and it is a sort of lady's argument —"let every man reform himself—let the people at large reform themselves." Sir, I heard, some years ago, the late Mr. Windham—who, though he combated the arguments in favour of reform, was always listened to with pleasure, and was by far the most ingenious of those who supported the present system—deliver his sentiments on this subject. But it appeared to me that he did not understand the practice he was defending—and which, I think, he abhorred in his' heart. He threw all the blame of these corrupt trans- actions on the people, who, he observed, required reform, and not the government. Now, this arose from a false idea of corruption. The people, in fact, cannot be corrupt, because they can have but a common interest in the state—but those who have a distinct interest, opposed to this common interest, are corrupt. If a House of Commons have no interest beyond that of the people at large, they are not a corrupt body: but, if they have an interest different from that of the great bulk of the people, though they are all saints in private, yet they are a corrupt public body—and that only can be considered a good government, where the private interests of the rulers are so constituted, that they go hand in hand with those of a public nature. When there is a distinction between public and private interest, the individual who submits to it, cannot act as an honest man; that is, he cannot perform his public duty fairly—and the more honest he is to those who send him to this House—the more minutely he obeys their wishes—the more pernicious he is to that public, whose rights and privileges he ought to protect [Hear, hear!]. I know that patrons never fall out with those whom they send, here. If a patron give a hint to any gentleman whom he has introduced to parliament, that he is not following the line of politics he wishes—though he has no legal means of obliging him to give up his seat, yet the hint is always obeyed. No gentleman would venture to remain in this House, after being told that his conduct was disapproved of by his patron. Were an individual to act otherwise, he would not be received in society. And yet, Sir, it is very often said, that members of parliament ought not to obey their constituents. These, Sir, are questions that would never arise, that would never be asked—the people would not, in fact, wish to give their representatives instructions— if this House was fairly elected by the Commons of England. It would not then be necessary to call those meetings, against which you are now passing laws. The votes of this House would be, in that case, conclusive evidence of the veal sentiments of the people, It would never be thought that we came to vote, contrary to the interests of the people. This borough-mongering system—this of representation, or rather of no representaion, would no longer exist—this system of nomineeship for places that produce nothing valuable, nothing essential—which, in fact, give the country nothing but members of parliament (and the treasury-bench is already filled with such commodities), would be destroyed for ever. Our ancestors would have startled, if they had been told, that three hundred and four members, were nominated to the Commons House of Parliament, by 154 individuals. The minister of the day, the noble lord opposite, was detected in this practice of bartering seats in parliament for places; and that transaction was defended in the House, on the ground of its being so very common. I should have thought it hard if the noble lord had been impeached for doing that which, it seems, every minister does; but the detection of that transaction is a strong argument for those who petition to remove so notorious a grievance. I do not want to denounce this or that person; but I wish to put an end to a system, which, in my conscience, I believe is bringing this country to ruin. I know not whether this is a situation under which the country can prosper—but I am sure it is one under which public liberty can never substantially exist.

There was, indeed, a time, Sir, when the recital of such corruptions as are now acknowledged, would not be borne in this House. In alluding to them, even in my day, gentlemen have been obliged to adapt to the subject a circumlocutory mode of expression. There was, as Mr. Pitt once said, on this same subject, a sort of maiden coyness, which was now wholly worn off. The evil stands before the country in all its naked and hateful deformity. Hundreds of thousands of people have petitioned the House that this grievance may be removed; but they have pointed out different modes to effect that object. I, Sir, do not think it is the business of an individual to devise the remedy that ought to be resorted to—but to point out, in the most palpable manner, the abuse which exists, and leave it to the wisdom of the House to consider of the remedy that shall be applied. I shall not therefore, on this occasion, go into any discussion of abstract questions, which others may think fallacious—nor will I combat opinions, that appear to me to be erroneous. It is sufficient for me to point out where the evil lies—the state of nomineeship to seats in the House of Commons— and, unless the existence of such an abuse can be denied—I hope—backed as I am by the voice of the people—to induce the ^* House to institute an inquiry on the subject. The gentlemen of this country, feeling as they do their property going fast from them, and who in total disregard of the once prized liberties of their country, think now that the government cannot be made too strong, would act far more wisely, if in place of fettering the people, they would put an end to the insatiable corruption that, springing from a combination of borough-mongers, holds at its will and for its support the resources of this once prosperous country. For with all our industry, with all the great sources of wealth arising from our labour, our skill, our extensive capital, our active commerce—we have before our eyes a most wretched, suffering, impoverished, oppressed, and starving people. We have, it is true, a constitution in theory, but in practice I do not believe there exists in any country so much misery, so much distress, and I will add, so much interference of power with the people, as in this kingdom. It is, then, earnestly to be wished that the gentlemen of England would at length resume their natural position—that they would take counsel from their wisdom, and not from their fears—that they would feel their dearest interest to consist in redressing the unparalleled sufferings of the nation. When these shall be their dispositions and their pursuits, then will the theory and practice of the constitution coincide. Surely, Sir, they must awake to a sense of their duty when they see themselves driven from the seats of their ancestors— those seats in which they were wont to dispense the blessings of hospitality to a contented and industrious neighbourhood, but which are now deserted from the necessities of their proprietors, obliged either to live in obscure retirement, or perhaps forced to emigrate to foreign countries, to evade the demands of their creditors— Must we, then, wretched exiles, ever mourn, Nor e'en with length of rolling years return? Are we condemned by fate's unjust decree, No more our homes and smiling fields to see? Or shall we mount again the rural Throne, And rule the country, kingdoms once our own? Shall we go on without putting a check to a system so mischievous in its tendency, and so fatal in its effects—a system that originates with the oligarchy of borough-mongers, not indeed for the support of the Crown against the representative body, but to shackle and withdraw from the Crown the fair power to which it is entitled, and to overturn the representation of the people? This is the evil under which the country has so long groaned. If the just and constitutional demands of the people are to be resisted, and if they are to be only met by an infringement upon their constitutional rights, and an unjust application of taxation—then, indeed, the prospect is not only painful, but dreadful to contemplate. It used to be the practige to say, when similar applications to the present were made to parliament— "Oh! the people have no feeling on the subject, or else they would have petitioned;" and now, when they come forward in immense numbers, the answer is, "Oh! they demand too much." The reply is followed up by the liberty of the subject being taken away—by the passing of acts depriving them of the right of petition—by preventing their meetings in the exercise of that right—and by other acts equally oppressive in their nature. This House, Sir, ought to be the guardian of the people against the attacks of the executive, instead of the supporter of the latter against the complaints of the former. If the people are now irritated and discontented, are they likely to be more loyal and obedient, when, so far from being received with indulgence, and their grievances redressed, they find parliament in hostile array against them?

As to the necessity for reform, it would be needless for me to cite all the great authorities in its favour, and the predictions of fatal consequences so often made when the Commons House was not fairly chosen by the people. It is an old and a true maxim, "that England can never be undone but by her parliament." Such, Sir, was the opinion of lord Chatham; Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox, and Mr. Grey, have maintained similar opinions, and were all of them (at one time of their lives at least) strongly in favour of reform. These distinguished persons have used the strongest arguments in its support, and even Mr. Burke, (for whose writings I shall always entertain the greatest respect, although he took the alarm at the beginning of the French revolution), has deeply felt, and eloquently described, the necessity of rendering the House of Commons a true representation of the people, as well as the evils which spring from it, when it is not. What the opinions of that great writer would have been, had he lived to this day, it is impossible for me to divine; but these were his words in the active part of his political life:—

"Whatever alterations time and the necessary accommodation of business may have introduced, this character can never be sustained, unless the House of Commons shall be made to bear some stamp of the actual disposition of the people at large.— It would (among public misfortunes) be an evil more natural and tolerable, that the House of Commons should be infected with every epidemical phrenzy of the people, as this would indicate some consanguinity, some sympathy of nature with their constituents, than that they should, in all cases, be wholly untouched by the opinions and feelings of the people out of doors. By this want of sympathy they would cease to be a House of Commons. For it is not the derivation of the power of that House from the people, which makes it, in a distinct sense, their representative. The king is the representative of the people; so are the Lords; so are the judges. For they are all trustees for the people, as well as the Commons; because no power is given for the sole sake of the holder; and although government certainly is an institution of divine authority, yet its forms, and the persons who administer it, all originate from the people.

"A popular origin cannot, therefore, be the characteristical distinction of a popular representative, which belongs equally to all parts of government, and in all forms. The virtue, spirit, and essence of a House of Commons consists in its being the express image of the feelings of the nation. It was not instituted to be a controul upon the people, as of late it has been taught, by a doctrine of the most pernicious tendency. It was designed as a control for the people. Other institutions have been formed for the purpose of checking popular excesses; and they are, I apprehend, fully adequate to their object. If not, they ought to be made so. The House of Commons, as it was never intended for the support of peace and subordination, is miserably appointed for that service; having no stronger weapon than its mace, and no better officer than its serjeant at arms, which it can command of its own proper authority. A vigilant and jealous eye over executory and judicial magistracy; an anxious care of public money; an openness, approaching towards facility, to public complaint; these seem to be the true characteristics of a House of Commons. But an addressing House of Commons, and a petitioning nation, a House of Commons full of confidence, when the nation is plunged in despair; in the utmost harmony with ministers, whom the people regard with the utmost abhorrence; who vote thanks when the public opinion calls upon them for impeachments; who are eager to grant, when the general voice demands reckoning and account; who, in all disputes between the people and administration, presume against the people; who punish their disorders, but refuse even to inquire into the provocations to them;— this is an unnatural, a monstrous slate of things in this constitution."

I leave it to the House to say, whether the present system that we uphold is not that unnatural monster which Mr. Burke has here described? I wish all who declare the contrary would bear in mind the striking, damning fact, that 157 borough proprietors return a majority of members to this House—that the property and liberties of the whole country are at their disposal—that instead of a government of King, Lords, and Commons, such as the constitution recognizes and requires, we have in practice a mal-administration of that constitution which excludes them all—which excludes the king from the fair exercise of his legal prerogative, and binds him in the hands of this party. The government is at their feet, and they dispose of it as they please. Like the Roman empire in its decline, the state is set up to auction, and disposed of to the highest bidder. Tin's was treason in any state, and yet it is the practice in ours. The leading principles on which I rest my case, are those so often recognised by Mr. Burke, and acted upon by that great man in the better days of his political life. I call Mr. Burke a great man, because it is an epithet due to his extraordinary abilities, and to those principles which he so strenuously supported during the greater portion of his life, whatever may have been his subsequent departure from them. Mr. Burke has declared it to be better that the House should partake of every epidemical phrenzy of the people, than that it should show a perpetual jealousy of their rights. It is not, however, a jealousy of which I now complain; it is an open hostility to popular rights, a want of all common feeling with the country at large, and a cheaply-won character of magnanimity, in affecting to despise what is called the clamour of the people. This appears to me, I confess, to be hardly decent; but as I do not think it right to take upon myself to point out what particular course it may be most advisable to pursue, I can only entertain a hope, that the House will consent to an inquiry into the facts and allegations contained in the petition, and more particularly into the facts and allegations contained in the petition presented in the year 1793. I especially trust, that the committee, if appointed, will direct its attention to the alleged nomination of members by peers; a nomination which cannot be practised but in defiance of all law, decency, and reason.

It is upon these views of the difference between the constitution as it now exists, and as it was settled at the period of the Revolution, that I invite the House to listen to my proposition for going into a committee. Our present practice has varied from the standard then established in many important points. It had been judged necessary at that period to enact, that every privy-councillor should subscribe his name to a copy of the advice which he gave his sovereign. Another regulation had for its object the exclusion of persons holding offices under the Crown from seats in parliament. Every thing, however, which has been interposed as a security against the encroachments of power, has been either taken away, or suffered to become a dead letter. Nothing can furnish a more decisive proof that the House of Commons has lost its former connexion with the people; that they no longer regard themselves as their stewards or servants, but as a master uniting in himself all the different springs and species of authority. Whatever may be thought of the wisdom or expediency of annual parliaments at present, it is assuredly not true that they were unknown to the history of the constitution: in the discussions on the triennial act, the contrary was maintained by the most eminent public characters of that day. With regard to the septennial act, indeed, I wish to say no more than to allude to the opinion expressed of it by Dr. Johnson, who, I suppose, were he now living, would be considered a Jacobin. The doctor, when reprobating as unconstitutional the measure by which twelve persons were raised, during the reign of queen Anne, at one time to the peerage, speaks of it as nothing equal or approaching to the contempt of all human right, and of all human means of asserting it, which was exemplified in passing the septennial act. The justification of that measure arose out of the apprehension that a popish faction were seeking to restore the expelled family. Wherever long parliaments were prevalent, it is evident that the administration were afraid to meet the people to settle short accounts. But why should we entertain this apprehension now, when there is no colour for any popish plot or Jacob in faction? Is the House to do nothing now for the people, because the demands contained in some of the petitions are unreasonable, and accompanied with angry declamation? What danger is to be apprehended from doing justice to an injured party. "What!" said Mr. Burke, "when the people of America look up to you with the eyes of filial love and affection, will you turn to them the shameful parts of the constitution" Let those who fear the danger of yielding to just demands, look at the more real danger they encounter by pursuing a policy so fatal to the best interests of the state. Believing, as I do, that there is no danger to be apprehended except by the government continuing to do wrong, and still more to alienate instead of regaining the affections of the people, by restoring to them their undoubted rights, I shall conclude by moving "That a select committee be appointed to take into consideration the State of the Representatives of the people in parliament, and to report their opinions thereupon to the House."

Mr. Brand,

in rising to second the motion of his hon. friend, felt that there were circumstances connected with the question at the present time which called on him for something more than a mere repetition of the sentiments which he had formerly delivered on the question. He allowed that the debate of that evening was more likely to serve as an indication of opinions already formed, than as a means of converting many from their former sentiments. It was the present situation of the country that could alone induce him to go farther than to express his general concurrence in all the principles laid down in the able, luminous, and temperate address of his hon. friend. This could alone afford him either a reason or a justification for repeating opinions which he had often before stated to the House, and endeavoured to press on their conviction. But when he considered the circumstances in which they were placed, the extreme distress and suffering that prevailed among the people, and the unprecedented energy with which they had petitioned for reform, he thought he saw a material change, which required that he should somewhat dilate on the opinions which he had formerly expressed.

He had long since communicated to the House his belief, that the relation between the House and the people ought to be enlarged by means of timely, moderate, and conciliatory reform; or that the consequence must inevitably be that the House would be driven to measures of military coercion in the defence and maintenance of its authority. Deeply as he regretted the immediate cause of it, he might appeal to those who heard him, whether his prediction had not already been fulfilled. With reference to the tone and language of the petitions much had from time to time been said, which did not equally apply to all of them. He would not deny,—nay, on the contrary, he would be the first to admit,—that many petitions had been presented of which the language was violent and unbecoming; but there were others, the tone and composition of which were perfectly unobjectionable, and it was not just that these should be confounded with those to which he had just alluded. If a few violent spirits had proceeded to unjustifiable lengths, it was not fair that for their misconduct, a stigma should be cast on the whole people of England. Some consideration was due to the feelings of the country at a period like the present.

He regretted that his hon. friend had not brought forward this question earlier in the session, because it was one of such a nature that almost every motion which had lately come under their consideration, was in some measure interwoven, or connected with the call for a parliamentary reform. It was not new for him to say that that House did not represent the people in a constitutional sense. What had been long the impression on his mind on this subject, seemed from the number of petitions on their table, to have become the general persuasion of the people. There had been at no former period so great and so decided an expression on the part of the public in favour of a parliamentary reform. In the course of the present year, the people had been excited —[Hear, hear!]—excited by their distressed situation to give the subject more than a common share of their attention. He certainly did not mean to contend that a reform in the representation of the people would immediately remove exist- ing grievances; but he thought it would afford the best security against a recurrence to measures like those which had been the causes of them. In separating the several classes of petitions which had been presented, the House would find one distinguished by the moderation and ability with which it had been drawn up, that had been received from the county of Cornwall. It was signed by persons of great respectability, and there were other petitions to which he might refer which deserved a similar commendation, and had evidently been prepared by persons well read in the history of the British constitution.

The hon. baronet had very properly said, that having stated the heavy grievance of which the people complained, it was not for him to step between them and the legislature to suggest the remedy. In thus acting, he had taken the proper course. He had stated a case of great and notorious evil;—had stated it in temperate language, which overstepped not, but which rather fell short of the truth, and had, in his opinion, made out such a case as imperiously called for inquiry on the part of the House. A practice of nominating persons to seats in that House by peers and others, had clearly been shown to exist, and this he would maintain was as repugnant to every principle of liberty, as it was contrary to the ancient letter of the constitution. Were there nothing else to complain of, this alone would call for inquiry, and demand redress. He knew that this system was defended on the pretence that the people, if not actually, were virtually represented, and that this practice of nomination, in its operation, had the effect of sending, almost in every instance the same men to parliament, who would be returned in any other case. Admitting this to be true, he would still contend that if the same individuals were returned under a better system, they would come there under a very different influence. They would then be under the influence, not of individual patrons, but of the great body of their electors, whose wrongs they would be anxious to see redressed, and whose liberties they would be resolute to support. It was impossible to suppose that a member would be equally ready to inquire into their grievances, to sympathise with their distress, or to defend their rights when they were assailed, who was at the nod of a borough proprietor and subject to the control of a patron. Supposing the House to be divided into two classes,—the borough interest forming the one, and the county members or representatives of real property the other, it would be found that the former was with the government in the proportion of five to one, while the latter was but in that of four to three.

This might serve to shew the practical inutility of that preponderance which would be given to personal property by a scheme of reform like that which went to embrace universal suffrage. On this subject he would touch but slightly now, as he did not consider it to be immediately connected with the question at present before the House. Much violence had marked the discussions which had taken place on the character of the remedy proper to be applied to the evil which had become so generally the subject of complaint. The extension of the elective franchise had been most loudly called for. This, in the time of Henry 6th, belonged to the freeholders and to the king's suitors. For the rest of the community they were in a state of villanage, with the exception of those who held by burgage tenure. There was no such thing as universal suffrage. Freeholds were represented and some little personal property, but the elective franchise certainly went no farther in any case, than to give a vote to those who paid scot and lot. In those places where I this right was at present enjoyed, he thought the elective franchise was sufficiently extended. This, however, he threw out mere' as a hint. The proper time for entering into this part of the subject would not arrive till the House had consented to go into the committee.

To return to the defence set up, that the present system was one of virtual representation—he would ask, could that be called representation at all which might possibly fall into the hands of a foreigner? When in the hands of a few individuals, instead of the body of the community, by whatever name it was called, it was not what representation ought to be. Sir William Jones had justly remarked, that "as well might a Roman tyrant have urged, that all his vassals were represented in his person; he was auger and high priest; the religious state was, therefore, represented by him: he was tribune of the people; the popular part of the nation were, therefore, represented: he was consul, dictator, master of the horse, every thing he pleased; the civil and military states Were, therefore, concentrated "in him, the next de- duction would have been, that the slaves of his empire were free men. There is no end of absurdities deducible from so idle a play of words."* This, he thought, was a sufficient reply to the flimsy pretext of virtual representation, as an argument against just and incontrovertible claims. When it was urged, during the debates on the American war, that America was as well represented as Manchester and Birmingham, Mr. Burke had asked, "When the people of America look up to you with the eyes of filial love and affection, will you turn to them the shameful parts of the constitution."—He could anticipate nothing but danger from that loss of confidence and esteem on the part of the people which must follow the refusal of their just petitions. That alarm which he believed to be at present groundless would at length become well-founded, and the danger imminent. If it must be allowed that the House did not represent the great body of the people—if the people considered the House as only the agent for forcing upon the people the acts of his majesty's ministers—it must be evident that this was a state of things which could not last long. There was a limit beyond which patience could not extend. The House had heard the complaints of the people, and was therefore bound to inquire into the cause of them, unless some good reason could be shown why a deaf ear should be turned to complaints so loudly and so generally expressed. For his own part he could not conceive any such reason.

He was aware that there were some persons who expressed great alarm at any innovation or reform, and who referred to the French revolution and to the fate of France, as a warning to those who would reform the constitution of this country. But the analogy between the state of this country now, and that of France before the revolution, he did not think could be brought forward with any success. That revolution itself, sprung out of the obstinate resistance offered to reform. If it were the object of these who now opposed it in this country, to pave the way for the establishment of a military government, no better means for effecting their design could be devised, than those of which they at present sought to avail themselves. He ^*See his "Speech to the assembled inhabitants of the counties of Middlesex and Surry, the cities of London and Westminster, and the borough of Southwark, wished the House to bear in mind what had produced the revolution in this country. It should be remembered, that one powerful cause of the last revolution was related by bishop Burnet to have been the acts and practices resorted to, in order to enable the king to get a parliament to his mind. The bishop says, that "all arts were used to manage elections so that the king should have a parliament to his mind. Complaints came from all parts of England of the injustice and violence used in elections, beyond what had ever been practised in former times. All this was so universal over the nation, that no corner of it was neglected. In the new charters that had been granted, the election of the members was taken out of the inhabitants, and restrained to the corporation men, all those being left out who were not acceptable at court. In some boroughs they could not find a number of men to be depended on: so the neighbouring gentlemen were made the corporation men; and in some of these persons of other counties, not so much as known in the borough, were named. This was practised in the most avowed manner in Cornwall by the earl of Bath, who, to secure himself the groom of the stole's place, which he held all king Charles's time, put the officers of the guards name in almost all the charters in that county, which sending up forty-four members, they were for the most part so chosen that the king was sure of their votes on all occasions." Then, as now, the complaints of the people were heard from all parts of the kingdom. At present the petitions which had been presented were so numerous, that it would at least become the House to consent to inquire whether or not the complaints forwarded to them were well founded. Mr. Burke on this subject had said, that "early reforms are amicable arrangements with a friendly power; late reforms are conditions made with a conquering enemy." There was much truth and wisdom in this observation. It became the government of such a country as this, to seek to live in the affections of its people, rather than in their fears. They should listen to their wrongs, and redress them in some other manner than by suspending their rights. This would be the real mode of averting the mischief which threatened the country, and for which the alarmists had so much apprehension. If it was wished that the country should be really tranquil, reform was the only means of providing for that tranquillity: every other resource would be found vain; and whilst he entreated the House not to answer the filial applications of the people by suspending their best and hereditary rights, it was his sincere persuasion that they would feel the inadequacy of such measures, adopted against the sense of those who were most disinterested in their advice, and repent of them when it should be too late.

Sir John Nicholl

, after a few introductory observations, proceeded in substance as follows:— The motion made to the House is generally for a Committee on the State of the Representation, the hon. mover and seconder having carefully abstained from stating any particular plan of parliamentary reform intended to be proposed. It may however be collected from their speeches as well as from the petitions on the table, that a material alteration in the present representation is the object in view; and he (sir J. N.) having a decided objection to any change until a sufficient case should be made out, was prepared to meet the motion with a direct negative.

Those who propose any change in the constitution are bound to establish its expediency and necessity. They must show that the present state of things is productive of certain evils which will be removed by the alteration projected. To examine, therefore, the subject,—manifestly a subject of the very highest importance to the country,—so as to arrive at any just conclusions, it is proper to consider first, the blessings we enjoy under the constitution in its present state; next, the grievances alleged, and their magnitude as compared with the blessings; and lastly, whether those grievances arise from the present state of the representation, and will be remedied, without incurring the risk of greater evils, by the alterations proposed.

That the constitution as it at present exists is productive of great blessings, need not be argued, because few, very few indeed, will be found to deny the fact. It produces more freedom, more security, more prosperity, more glory, more happiness, to those who have the fortunate lot to live under it than any government that ever existed in any other country. Wisdom and prudence, then, obviously dictate, that before you put these inestimable blessings to the risk by any change, you should be satisfied that grievances exist of such magnitude as to counterbalance the danger of the experiment. You will at least pause, and examine well the necessity of the measure.

You will pause the more when you reflect upon the frame and character of the constitution. It is not a simple machine, but one of delicate movements, complicated and difficult to be understood; in which one spring works upon or checks' another almost imperceptibly; a machine, therefore, with which it is dangerous to meddle, since the alteration or removal of the slightest part may derange the whole, and either by impeding stop it, or by accelerating its velocity, urge it to destruction. We know that at present it works well, producing the blessings already enumerated.

The character of the constitution is differently viewed by different persons. Some who are disposed to admit that its theory is beautiful, assert that it is corrupt in its practice; but others more correctly allow that its theory is in some respects apparently defective and faulty, yet maintain that its practical effects are most admirable. While the practical effects are good, we should not be over nice in searching after defects in its theory. Equally faulty in appearance is the theory of several of its parts;—what, for instance, can appear more strange than the structure of the trial by jury, where twelve men upon oath are required to be unanimous in their opinion, and are to be starved into that unanimity before they can give a verdict? Yet what works better than the trial by jury? Nay, this apparent absurdity of requiring unanimity, when more deeply considered, is perhaps lone of its most valuable qualities. So with this House—It seems faulty in theory that Rutlandshire should send the same number of members as Yorkshire; and the borough of Old Sarum as many as the city of Westminster. Yet this inequality and apparent incongruity may tend to render it an assembly better qualified to perform the functions assigned to it.

This being the very point of dispute, it may be necessary to discuss it more at length.

If equal and uniform representation he the natural, indefeasible, unalienable right of the people;—if no government be lawful, without such a representation;—if no laws can be legitimately made to which the people have not consented by representatives of their own immediate choice —there is an end of the question. The radical reformist is right; for it is no longer a question of political expediency, but of natural and immutable justice. But to this principle the reformist must admit there are some powerful objections. One objection is, that it is utterly impracticable. You never can have an equal representation. At best it will only be the representation of the majority; and then the laws must be made by the majority of representatives, who probably will have been chosen by much less than a majority of the people.

But without stopping further to discuss this principle in detail, its soundness and foundation are altogether denied. We deny that government is unlawful, unless there be representatives equally and uniformly chosen by the people. We admit most unreservedly that all government is for the people: that their welfare is its only lawful end: that the prerogatives of the Crown are no farther lawful than as they conduce to that end: that the privileges of parliament rest upon the same basis. It is the HAPPINESS OF THE PEOPLE which forms the only legitimate principle and object of all constitutions of government. Different constitutions may suit different countries: but that constitution which will produce most happiness to the whole with the least sacrifice of the happiness of any part, is the most lawful form of government. And if to the British nation, the British constitution, as it now by law exists, is best calculated to produce national happiness, it may safely be maintained, that upon the soundest principles of moral and political justice, it is also the most lawful form; and that this modern doctrine of a right to a full, free, equal, and uniform representation of the people, is unsound in theory, and false in principle, unless those who would introduce it, can demonstrate, by irrefragable argument, that it will produce more happiness to the country.

Now, in favour of the British constitution as it exists, and in opposition to these visionary changes which are suggested, there is one pretty powerful argument arising from the infallible test of experience. If the tree is known by its fruits, then we know where the real tree of liberty has produced most abundantly.' Our happy constitution has afforded more rational liberty; more security to person, property, and character; more substantial happiness than has elsewhere ever existed. Thus setting experience against theory, there is little doubt by which of the two the House and the public will be directed.

But if we examine more accurately into the structure of this House, it will not be difficult to discover the reasons of its producing these beneficial effects. The British government is not a republic, not; a representative democracy. It always was a monarchy—a limited monarchy— I limited and controlled by the other two I branches of the state. The chief functions of the popular branch are, to control and to advise the executive branch. In its inquisitorial character, and by its peculiar powers over taxation, it controls. In its legislative character, and as a part of the great council of the nation, it advises. It occasionally controls both the other branches, but more ordinarily, it cooperates with them for the general good.

Now, to render the popular branch of the state adequate to and well qualified for these great purposes, it should collect and combine the wisdom, the integrity, the independence, and the knowledge of the commonalty of the realm. For its wisdom, it should collect men of the first talents; for its integrity, those of high character; for its independence, men of competent property; and for its knowledge, enlightened persons of all descriptions,—statesmen, landed proprietors, merchants, manufacturers, lawyers, naval and military officers, men of letters and of general information. The House as at present constructed is thus composed. And if the representation of the decried boroughs be examined, it may be found that some of the brightest ornaments, some of the members of this House most distinguished for talents, integrity, and knowledge, have at all times found their way into it through the medium of these very places;—persons of as much character and independence as those who represent places where the right of election is most popular.

So far from equality and uniformity being desirable, the more varied and diversified the mode of election, the more universal and perfect will be the representation produced by it.

At present we find that no particular interests preponderate. The landed, the commercial, the manufacturing, the professional, are all equally balanced and protected. The interests of the very lowest classes of society are as much regarded as the highest. Nay, it may be truly said, that this House, particularly in later times, has in all subjects, and especially in taxation, which is its own peculiar province, paid the utmost attention to the welfare of the lowest classes, and endeavoured to render the public burthens as little oppressive as possible to them, by laying these burthens upon the middle and higher ranks of society.

The reformists, however, cry out that it is extremely absurd and unjust that Cornwall should send more members than all Yorkshire, even more than the principality of Wales, nearly as many as the whole kingdom of Scotland! Here is inequality it is true; and if you were now forming a new constitution, you probably would not introduce such an anomaly. But finding the constitution existing, the proper question to be asked is, what is the practical inconvenience? Is Cornwall better taken care of, or are its interests more attended to than those of Yorkshire, or Wales, or Scotland? By no means; for it is the true principle of the constitution, as well as the actual feeling of the members of this House, that when seated here, they are not the agents, or attornies, or deputies of the places which chose them, but that each and every of them represents the whole and every part of the commons of the united kingdom.

It may be proper further to observe, that this constitution, in its practice, works by TWO GREAT PARTIES; one consisting of those who conduct the executive government, supported by such members as have a confidence in their abilities and integrity; the other, those who, not having that confidence, watch and criticise their measures; and whenever they appear wrong, oppose them. The constitution has always so worked;—and have what representation you please, it must always continue to do so. For if the body of the people could themselves exercise the powers of government, there still must be a party conducting it, and a party opposing. To alter this, you must alter the constitution of human society.

Between these two great parties, we find the different sorts of representatives pretty equally distributes, in proportion to their respective numbers. If it were otherwise, and the members chosen by popular election were all, or in great disproportion, found opposing the executive government, while those who supported it were principally composed of the repre sentatives of small boroughs, there might be some colour of argument for attributing any errors or misconduct in the government to the support it received from borough representatives. But the fact is notorious, that the various sorts of representatives are pretty equally distributed on the two sides of the House.

Even this question of parliamentary reform, when it was brought forward some years ago by Mr. Grey in its most specious form, recommended by his great abilities, and after the utmost exertions to give it success, was not supported by more than twenty county members—not one fourth of the members of that description,—while the conduct of those county members who opposed the measure, was not marked at the ensuing elections by any disapprobation on the part of their constituents—This fact is a pretty satisfactory answer to much of the assertion made upon this subject of more popular Representation.

If, then, the House, as at present chosen, is extremely well calculated to perform the functions assigned to it; if it collects and contains the persons best qualified to discharge its duties; if all the interests and all the different descriptions of society are here represented; if this appears to be the case, both from looking at its practical effects, and upon analyzing its structure, let us inquire, what is proposed to be substituted for it? and what are the grievances which should induce us to make the experiment?

Various theories are afloat. Most of the Petitions ask for universal suffrage. That system has been disavowed upon all former occasions. No person ventures now to propose it in this House. It is a system which would manifestly destroy the whole balance of the constitution, produce a revolution, and carry the nation through the whole circle of revolutionary calamities, beginning with anarchy, and ending in military despotism.

The next plan is one step, and only one step, short of universal suffrage. "Representation coextensive with taxation," or all householders to have votes. In one respect this worse, for it stands on no principle, not even on equality and the rights of man. This plan would evidently alter the whole system of the representation (at least in respect to three fourths of it), which has been moulded by time and experience, sanctioned by charters and statutes, and become interwoven with the habits and manners of the country. Upon this plan, it would be necessary to carve out the country into departments and districts, otherwise the principle of equal representation would not be attained. If this equality is to be governed by population, London and the home counties would have such a preponderancy, that the metropolis, like Paris, would become the despot of the United Kingdom—We may ask, would this uniformity of representation improve its character, or extend its universality? Just the reverse. The representatives would, for the most part, be of one description—the demagogues of each district; those who would most flatter and could best cajole the worst passions of the multitude.—The greater part of the country would thus be converted into large scot and lot districts; and would this tend to render elections more free from corruption, riot, and expense? How far a representation so constituted, or any ways approaching towards it, would be an improvement upon the present constitution, seems unworthy of refutation by argument. It is sufficient just to have stated it, and to leave it for decision to the good sense of the House and of the country.

But before we should admit of any experimental change, even if something more plausible and specious were offered to our consideration—before we should consent to the risk of altering what is practically good, it should be proved to us, that notwithstanding all this good, there are still certain grievances of great magnitude which arise from the present state of the representation.

Upon this subject of Grievances we are in the habit of hearing much declamation and invective. Certain topics are usually launched forth, well calculated to make an impression, if not upon the good sense and enlightened minds of the House, yet upon popular feeling, more especially when it is rendered irritable from the pressure of distress. Upon the present occasion much has been said of the "corruption of parliament," but as it has been stated to be a corruption consistent with honour and integrity, it appears to be of a sort neither very easily understood, nor very necessary to be refuted.

The great grievance prominently brought forward in the Petitions is "excessive taxation." If by excessive is meant heavy taxation, the fact must be fully admitted; but it does not bear upon the present argument unless it has arisen from: some defect or fault in the present mode of representation. If by excessive is meant unnecessary taxation, then the fact is denied. The great bulk of the taxation is necessary to pay the interest of the public debt. So great a breach of national faith, so gross a fraud on the public creditor as not to pay this interest is not yet avowed, whatever may be the views of some of the reformists, and whatever would be the effect of the subversion of the existing order of things.

In respect to the taxation necessary to support the Establishments, if they are still too high, reduce them further. In the public expenditure, œconomy and retrenchment are admitted to be proper as far as is consistent with the safety of the state; and there is every reason to believe that the House and the government have been sincere in pursuing this course. But in reducing the Establishments, let them take care not to risk the subversion of the constitution and all its blessings. The peaceable and well disposed have a right to expect protection and security.

But to return to the point of argument, namely, whether the burthen of taxation be attributable to the state of the representation.

There is no doubt that the burthen has arisen chiefly from the wars in which the country has been engaged. And it is fairly meeting the argument to consider, whether those wars would have been prevented, and whether similar wars will in future be prevented, by a different sort of representation. Now, the argument is put thus:—"By a more equal and uniform representation the feelings of the nation, and of its representatives would be more in unison." For the sake of the argument, be it so;—but if the feelings of the nation and of its representatives had been more in unison, would the wars which produced these burthens, have been prevented?

History does not teach us that democratic stales, if great and powerful, are less irritable or less inclined to war than other states. It was not so with the ancient republics. It was not so with the French republic. The democratic party in America were not the least clamorous for war with this country before the late hostilities.

It is yet more to the point to inquire whether equal and uniform representation would have prevented our own wars. We might go back to every war since the Revolution; but it will be sufficient to consider the two last wars, since our present burthens are principally to be attributed to them.

Now, nothing is better established than that the American war was popular in this country to a very great degree. It is true, there was a party in this House which opposed it, but they did not carry the sense of the country with them till towards the very end of the war. In 1780 there was a general election. The counties, cities, and great towns re-elected those representatives who had supported the war. But in the city of Bristol, where there are seven or eight thousand voters, Mr. Burke who had zealously opposed the American war, lost his election—a pretty strong instance of the state of popular feeling at that time. The disasters of that war did at length change public opinion. Disasters, accompanied by heavy burthens, may have sometimes a move undue, but generally a speedier effect upon popular feeling than upon a select and deliberative body. But it was this House, so chosen in 1780, which in two years afterwards, in unison with the nation, did pall down lord North's administration, and put an end to the American war. It was the same House of Commons which, in spite of government contractors then holding seats in it, declared that the influence of the Crown ought to be diminished, and which took several measures for that purpose.

To proceed to the French war. No person will deny that the war with France I was a popular war. Again, a party in this House opposed it as unjust and impolitic. Whether they were right or wrong is not the present question; but never was a political party so reduced in numbers; and they themselves never asserted that they carried the voice of the nation with them. During this long war, several general elections took place. The counties and great towns did not dismiss their representatives and choose those who opposed the war. If there are any persons now who, looking back to the events of the war, can think that a peace with Buonaparte, at the expense of his continuing ruler of France, would have been preferable to continuing the war and bringing it to its final glorious issue, even at the expense of the burthens we are bearing, such persons will not carry the general sense of the nation with them.

The result then is, that a House of Com- mons, differently constituted, would not, because it spoke the feelings of the nation, have prevented these wars, and the burthens which have been consequent upon them.

Nor is there reason to suppose that a more equal representation would have diminished the expenditure. Look at the French republic: it was not less lavish in its expenses than the monarchy. At one period, its expenditure was not less than ten millions sterling per month, raised by the most oppressive requisitions and confiscations, and applied to the most corrupt and iniquitous purposes. The management of the public purse, as far as we can judge from little incidents occasionally taking place in this House, would not be more frugal in the hands of representatives, however chosen, than by the responsible ministers of the Crown.

If the subject, then, be fairly analysed and examined, the advantages promised from identifying the House more directly and completely with the electors, are perfectly visionary.

Public opinion, in its true meaning, is unquestionably entitled to the highest consideration and respect. The deliberate voice of the nation is seldom wrong. But popular clamour is not public opinion. Popular feeling is sometimes hasty, often fluctuating, frequently raised on false and erroneous grounds. The representative body maybe too much identified with that feeling. A deliberative assembly, under the pressure of temporary disasters, or accidental vicissitudes, is likely to judge more wisely and act more firmly and prudently than the body of the people. But when public opinion is the cool and deliberate sense of the nation, formed upon mature reflection, it always must have its effect upon this Mouse. The House must and will conform to it.

The supporters of parliamentary reform assume that they have the voice of the nation with them from the number of petitions presented to the House. Every person who justly estimates the right of petitioning, must grieve to have seen the mode in which, for the most part, those petitions have been procured. Every abuse of that invaluable right tends to injure it. When grievances not really felt by the people are suggested by artificial excitements, in order to produce discontents,—when the people, suffering under some unavoidable pressure, are deluded into a belief that their distresses are im- putable to the corruption of this House, and will be removed by reform in parliament—petitions so obtained do not carry with them the weight that belongs to public opinion. Nor are we to be told that alterations in the constitution must be made in order to satisfy discontents thus raised. If we sacrifice the blessings which the nation enjoys, in order to gratify the caprice or soothe the insolence of the disaffected,—if we put to the risk the best interests and the substantial happiness of the country, in order to redress imaginary grievances,—we shall neither retain the respect of the wise and the contented, nor put an end to the demands of the dissatisfied. No—let us stand firmly by the constitution, if we value its blessings, or wish for its permanency.

We have been reminded, and it is true, that many great and good men have been friends to parliamentary reform; not indeed of a radical sort, but upon a moderate scale; and some reformists of that description doubtless still remain. Mr. Pitt, in the ardor of youth, heated by party, before his judgment had been matured by experience, did warmly espouse the cause. He brought it forward in 1782 during lord Rockingham's administration—again in 1783—and afterwards in 1785, when he was himself established as minister of the country, and with all the weight of his station and great talents. But, with all these advantages, the proposition, though moderate, failed of success; and even then, the extreme danger of meddling with the venerable fabric of the constitution was strongly felt and insisted upon.

But events have since happened, which, while they have decidedly confirmed the ground of alarm at the danger of change, have tended to correct the opinions and to reduce the numbers of moderate reformists. The French revolution has afforded an example by which we should profit, and be grateful that the experiment was not made in this country. That awful event, and the dreadful calamities which have accompanied it, must have taught us the truth of the assertions, that those who begin the measure of reform, seldom sec its completion—that the work of change once begun, no person can fix the limit where it shall stop; that the storm once raised, it is impossible to direct its course, or to foresee "whither it goeth." We must further be aware, that the very agitation of this question at a time when the population is suffering under the pressure of distress, is attended with increased danger, since the physical force of the country is then liable to be deluded and misled by those who have very different designs from the moderate reformists. At such a time the slightest scratch may produce a mortal wound to the Constitution.

After the experience of these events, no person need be ashamed to avow a change of opinion upon experimental reform. Mr. Pitt, who with so much zeal had brought forward the plans of 1782, 1783 and 1785, was manly enough in 1790, 1792, 1793, and 1797, to avow that his view of the subject was altered, and to admit "that the probability of good was but little, while the danger of mischief was of a size so gigantic as to exceed all calculation." In 1800, he expressed himself most decidedly confirmed in this change of opinion; for after admitting without disguise the early sentiments he had entertained on the subject of reform,—after referring to the events which had since happened,—after enumerating the actual blessings which the nation enjoyed under the constitution as it then existed—he is said to have expressed himself in these memorable words: "Upon this subject I think it right to disclose the inmost recesses of my mind, and to declare my most decided opinion, that even if the times were proper for experiments, any the slightest change in such a constitution must be considered as an evil." To this opinion the House and the country will do wisely to adhere, inasmuch as practical happiness is far preferable to experimental change.

The declaration of Mr. Pitt, just referred to, was made in the course of the debate on the Irish Union. That event has given to the moderate reformers almost the exact improvement (if it was any) which was originally proposed by them. Lord Chatham in 1770, and the reformists of 1782, only proposed to invigorate, or as they termed it, "to throw now life into" the representation, by adding one hundred members to this House, to be chosen by the counties and populous towns. Now, by the Irish Union one hundred members, chosen by counties and populous towns, have been added to this House. Whether or not it has afforded any practical improvement, it is not necessary to decide. But to the moderate reformist it is fair to state, that his experi- ment has been tried. The House is more popularly chosen. If the improvement has taken place, he should rest satisfied—if his expectations have been disappointed, and the influence of the Crown has not been diminished, then his theory was erroneous.

There is still another circumstance which deserves to be well weighed by the moderate reformist, namely, the change of character which the measure has assumed since it was originally proposed, not only in the extent of the measure itself, but in the hands into which its management has fallen, and the description of persons who have embarked in it,—all tending greatly to increase the magnitude of the danger.

In former times, in 1780 and 1782, persons of high character, respectability and weight in the country, took the lead in the conduct and management of the measure. In 1790 and 1792, the society of "The Friends of the People" included persons, who, though opposed to the administration, were also of high character, and of known attachment to the constitution. They distinctly declared their object. They honourably disavowed, not only the views of, but all connexion with, and avoided giving any countenance to, other societies, who had exposed themselves to the suspicion of pursuing objects less constitutional. They id not endeavour to enlist the mere multitude, and to excite the physical force of the country to engage in the cause,—nor were the lower classes at that time extensively disposed against the higher classes of society. The station and character, therefore, of those reformists, as well as their conduct and views, afforded a pledge to the country, that their object was not mischief to the constitution, however erroneous might be their plans for its amelioration.

But surely it cannot have escaped observation, that the measure is now got into very different hands, and has assumed in all respects a more alarming character. Of course this remark is not intended to apply to any member of the House, to-wards whom no personal disrespect can be meant, but is exclusively applied to those who take the lead in the business out of this House. The fact being notorious and undisguised, an allusion may be made to the individual who has been most active in framing petitions, in advising measures, and in visiting different parts of the country, it is a little alarming that the conti- nuance of this individual, as a member of the society of the Friends of the People occasioned the secession of some of the leading members of that association. In June 1792, the chairman (then member for Hertfordshire), the deputy chairman (now a noble duke), and two or three other distinguished members withdrew from that society, and in a public letter assigned as their reasons, that the individual referred to "after an express avowal, of a correspondence actually carried on under his hand and signature with the Jacobins at Paris was not excluded from the association." This individual (who may be an excellent private character) has never, as far as we nave heard, recanted the political principles he then held, nor has his recent conduct afforded any marks of such a change: yet he is the great manager and oracle of parliamentary reform in the present day, and has been made the subject of panegyric in this House.

Instead of an association, like the Friends of the People, sanctioned by near a hundred names of persons of high constitutional character, affording a guarantee for the security of the public peace, we have clubs of unknown persons, of all descriptions, working in the same direction. The Spenceans, declaring hostility against all the rights of property; other clubs, avowing universal suffrage to be their object; and some of them adding, that if they obtain that, "all the rest will follow;"—and even societies professing to be moderate, yet not limiting their views, but declaring that "representation at least co-extensive with taxation," is their object.

It is equally obvious to notice that indefatigable pains have been taken by the disaffected for the last twenty-five years, at every favourable opportunity, to seduce the lower classes of the people; and that those efforts have not been wholly unsuccessful. Within that period also, the manufacturing population has greatly increased; and it is well known that a manufacturing population, from various causes, is more easily instigated to sedition and revolt, than the agricultural and handicraft population. Means also the most iniquitous, by the abuse of the liberty of the press, have been resorted to, for the purpose of undermining the moral and religious principles of the lower classes, so as to render the physical force of the country fit and ready instruments to forward the work of insurrection and rebellion; certain vile incendiaries promising them unattain- able good, and under the sacred names of liberty and the constitution, goading them on towards the destruction of both.

Looking, then, at these circumstances, can any person fail to see that the business of reform has assumed a different character,—that it has got into more dangerous hands,—that it has spread more widely among a deluded population,—that its success, if once begun, may be attempted by physical force;—that the risk of plunder and bloodshed is increased, and consequently, that the agitation of the question is infinitely more to be deprecated, than when t was under the conduct and management of persons of a different character?—and may we not hence be reasonably led to hope that moderate reformists, though retaining their former opinions on the abstract question of parliamentary reform, may so far change their conduct, as to withhold any countenance from the measure; since, to give any countenance to the wild notions now afloat, may tend to involve the country in confusion, disturbance, and anarchy?

But it may be asked, is the constitution so perfect as to admit of no improvement? and, setting aside the circumstances of the present moment, are we for ever, under the alarm of innovation, to abstain from remedying existing evils? To these questions it may be answered, that no human institution is perfect.—Point out any specific evil.—Propose the specific remedy. If the evil is proved to exist, and the remedy is well adapted and may be applied without the risk of greater evils, let it be resorted to. But if the evil be imaginary, or at most trifling, and the proposed remedy so extensive that you cannot ascertain its limits, it would be unpardonable rashness to risk the happiness of the nation by the hazard of so dangerous an experiment.

The constitution has within itself the means of remedying its own defects, and providing for its own amelioration, without these fearful schemes of new modelling and recasting the popular branch of the legislature. This corrupt representation (as it is the pleasure of some person? to term it), the structure of which has undergone no material change since the Restoration, has yet within that period added new safeguards to limit the powers of the Crown, and to protect the liberties of the people. Need the House be reminded, that during the reign of Charles 2nd, the Habeas Corpus act was pas- sed, which has justly been considered as the great bulwark of the liberties of the people. A bulwark which, in its ordinary operation, protects the subject against the oppression of the Crown. Nor is it less valuable because, by its occasional suspension, it enables the Crown itself to protect our liberties (for security to person and property is of the very essence of liberty) against the turbulence and violence of traitorous conspirators.

Be it also remembered, that representatives, chosen as at present, brought about the Revolution,—that great event which fixed the liberties of the people upon a solid and permanent basis—that they passed the bill of rights, the toleration act, secured the liberty of the press, and have been at all times vigilant to protect and extend the real happiness of the country.

These facts are so striking, that some distinguished reformists have found themselves obliged to admit the present representation to be adequate to resist the power of the Crown, but not to resist its influence. For this distinction no attempt at any argument was made, nor any plausible reason assigned;—it was mere assertion, and to assertion it might he sufficient to oppose denial. But is it true that the representation has not resisted, and adopted various measures to diminish, the influence of the Crown? Without going farther back than the present reign, it will refute the assertion to mention a very few instances. The commencement of the reign was marked by the very important measure of rendering the judges independent of the influence of the Crown. The passing of the Grenville act for deciding contested elections, more directly applied to securing the purity and independence of the representation;—the depriving revenue officers of the right of voting at elections,—the exclusion of contractors and others from seats in this House, had the same tendency. In short, so far from the direct influence of the Crown having increased in this House, the number of persons connected with the Crown by office, who now sit here, is reduced by above one half;—the whole number not amounting to fifty, notwithstanding the House itself is increased by the addition of one hundred members from Ireland.

It is, however, not to be disguised that by the increase of the public debt, and the general establishments of the empire, the patronage of the Crown is certainly increased. But in the first place, we should recollect that we have been looking at this subject of patronage for the last twenty-five years, during a period of far extended war. The return of peace has alone diminished that patronage to a very great extent. And how is parliamentary reform to remedy the evil arising from this increased patronage? Is it proposed to transfer it to other hands than the executive government? Or how will its influence be diminished? Does a member, popularly chosen, apply less frequently for this patronage than one who represents a small borough? The degree of influence arising from the exercise of this patronage, depends more on the character of the representative than on the manner in which he is chosen, and the alteration in the structure of the representation, does not appear to be calculated to furnish a corrective to this increased patronage.

Correctives, however, have not been wholly wanting. They have been furnished in various ways. The improvements made in the mode of collecting the revenue has tended to lessen the influence in that respect. The manner in which the supplies for the public service are procured,—not by the favour of private contracts, but by public competition,—has a similar tendency. Look also at the administration of the army and navy, and no person who remembers or has heard how those two great branches of the public service were administered in former times, will say that they now produce the same degree of influence in respect to this House. The increased wealth and weight of the commonalty has also tended much to diminish the comparative influence both of the aristocracy and of the Crown.

But above all, look at the increased freedom of public discussion, and consequently the increased effect of public opinion—There is one circumstance alone which has thrown more weight into the popular scale of the constitution, than all the increased patronage has added to that of the Crown: that is, the free Publication of the Debates in Parliament. Nothing passes in either House that is not immediately circulated through every part of the kingdom, and submitted to public opinion. No grievance, real or imaginary, is felt by any body of men, however small, or by any individual, however low and obscure, that is not here subjected to discussion. No minister, no magistrate, no person possessed of power of any kind, dares to exercise it, either oppressively or corruptly, unchecked by the apprehension of having the transaction investigated. He well knows that he incurs the risk, nay, almost the certainty of having his conduct canvassed in parliament by persons of the first talents in the country, and submitted at least to the tribunal of public opinion. The present danger is rather on the other side, lest persons should be deterred from undertaking public duties, and discharging them without bias, by the apprehension, however conscious of their own integrity and good intentions, called into question.

The power of the Crown, then, to do wrong in any respect, either by oppression or corruption, so far from having practically increased, the more just conclusion in regard to it is, that the subject never enjoyed liberty in greater perfection than in the times in which we live. The principal drawback from that enjoyment arises from the licentiousness of the turbulent and disaffected, disturbing the repose, and alarming the apprehensions of the peaceable members of society, by traitorous conspiracies to subvert the constitution—a constitution most admirable, which the wit and wisdom of man could not, by one effort or in one age, have constructed, but which has grown up in the course of ages, and out of a series of events, either fortuitous or providential, till it has become the greatest blessing ever conferred upon any nation. If in former times it claimed veneration and attachment, much ought those feelings towards it to be increased, now it has with safety carried us through the perils and dangers of the last twenty-five years. Amidst all the storms which have assailed, and all the miseries which have befallen the nations around us, it has hitherto remained unshaken and unimpaired; and it has finally conducted us, notwithstanding the pressure of some temporary distresses, to the highest point of security, glory, and happiness. To change this constitution, to put it to the least risk by any visionary experiment for amending it, would be more than folly; it would be the height of political criminality. Sir John Nicholl concluded by declaring, he should give a decided negative to the motion.

Lord Cochrane

said, that after the speech of the hon. baronet, the mover, and of the hon. seconder of the motion, it would appear presumption in him to offer any observations in elucidation of that which was very properly considered by the people the most important question which could possibly engage the consideration of the House; but he could not refrain from noticing some assertions which had fallen from the last speaker. The hon. and learned gentleman, the dean of the Arches, had explained how curiously and how nicely parties were balanced in that House, and how they worked against each other; but he had forgotten to tell that there was another balance, in which the whole weight of that House was on one side, and that of the public on the other. He had entered into a long detail of the advantages of the constitution, and the blessings enjoyed under it, but he had entirely forgot to mention that that constitution was destroyed, and now no longer existed [Cries of Hear, hear, and order!]. He had a right to say that the constitution no longer existed while the Habeas Corpus act was suspended. After a description of that balance of interests, which, in the opinion of the hon. and learned gentleman produced an equalization of representation, than which nothing could be better, he proceeded to show how agriculture, commerce, and all other interests were taken care of in that House; how each had its proportionate share of influence: but he again made an omission—he forgot to state, that self-interest was in that House a preponderating influence, he meant the all-powerful influence of places and pensions. Could it be supposed that these were things which had no effect on the measures of that House? Were the members of the House of Commons the only persons in the world so very pure that they could not be influenced by the motives which actuate other men? [Hear, hear!]. What was to be expected from the present S}'stem but the daily operation of such influence? If an hon. gentleman accepted a seat on either side of the House from a borough proprietor, was it not notorious that he must vote as his constituent pleased to direct him. He had now had a seat in the House upwards of ten years, and he had found that to be uniformly the practice. It was to get rid of these and other abuses that the people called aloud for reform, and it was the bounden duty of the House to accede to the prayers of the people, and to consent to that reform. But reform they must have, whether they would or not. The state of the country was such that it was impossible things could go on long as they were now conducted. There was a general call for reform, and it was the knowledge the people had of the influence which prevailed within that House that had produced that call. If the call was not obeyed thank God the evil would produce its own remedy, the mass of corruption would destroy itself, for the maggots it engendered would eat it up. They (the members) were the maggots of the constitution. They were the locusts that devoured it, and caused all the evils that were complained of. There was nothing wicked which did not emanate from that House [a laugh]. In it originated all knavery, perjury, and fraud [reiterated and tumultuous cries of Hear!]. They knew well all this, and they also knew that the means by which the great majority of the House were returned was one great cause of the corruption of the whole people. It had been said, let the people reform themselves; but if sums of money were offered for seats within these walls there would always be found men ready to receive them. It was impossible to imagine that the profuse expenditure of the late war could have taken place, had it not been for a corrupt majority devoted to their selfish interests. At least it would have had a shorter duration from being carried on in a more effective manner, had it not been conducive to the views of many to prevent its speedy termination. Much had been said about the glorious result of the war; but had not the lavish expenditure loaded us with taxation which impoverished the people and annihilated commerce? Were not vessels seen every where with brooms at their mast heads? Were not sailors starving? Was not agriculture languishing? Were not our manufactures in the most distressed state? Some of the greatest landholders in the country were now in the House. He would appeal to them. Did they receive any rents? Were they not merely the stewards of government? Were they not holding their estates as agents of government for the benefit of the fundholders? Did they not see this? And would they allow themselves to be really robbed of their estates from an ideal apprehension of Spenceans. Was there nothing Spencean in the conduct of ministers which required the vigilance of the landed proprietors? Though the will theories of visionaries had been made an excuse for abolishing the constitution, that work, it would be recollected, was done by a committee chosen nominally by ballot; but in fact by a majority under the influence of ministers. There was, therefore fraud and delusion in the very origin of the business. The country would remember, to the disgrace of all concerned, that when the committee, on whose report the liberties of the country were suspended, was balloted for, a list of names was put into the ballot box, written at the Treasury. Was not this a mockery and fraud on the public? What could be more base? Did they not hear with astonishment that the mock committee was again to be revived for the purpose of suspending the constitution? And for what? because that House and ministers were afraid that the expression of the public voice might arrest them in the progress of their delinquency. He was persuaded that no man without doors wished the subversion of the constitution; but within it was contended that bribery and corruption, were the constitution. Mr. Pitt himself had confessed that no honest man could hold the situation of minister for any length of time. He spoke not of private character. He was persuaded that no man could be more moral than the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer, but it was not possible for him to be an honest minister until measures were taken to purge and purify the House. If this were not done, it was in vain to hope for a renewal of successful enterprise in this country. Commerce would never again revive—the sun of the country was set for ever. It might, indeed, exist as a petty military German despotism, with horsemen parading up and down with large whiskers and sabres ringing on their horses backs, and with fantastically shaped caps of fantastical colours on their heads—but that this country could be a great military power was quite impossible. It had been said, the people ought to reform themselves; but before they were called upon so to do, he thought it was the duty of every man in that House to take the mote out of his own eye [Hear, hear!]. He was glad to observe that call of hear came not from lords of the Admiralty, because they had particular reasons for being aware of the truth of his observations in regard to himself. As the honourable dean of Arches had instanced juries as one of the benefits of the constitution, he would affirm with respect to the manner that juries were chosen under the present system, that justice was much better administered—in a more summary manner—with lesss expense—and no chicanery—by the dey of Algiers [loud laughing]. And if this country were erected at once into a down-right, honest, open despotism, the people would be gainers. If a judge or despot then proved a rogue he would at once appear in his true character: but now villainy could be artfully concealed under the verdict of a packed jury. He was satisfied that the present system of corruption was more detrimental to the country than a despotism, which he hoped the noble lord opposite (lord Castlereagh) would have the goodness to favour them with—let us have at once a down-right open, honest despotism. At present we had latitude given to express our sentiments which only tended to insnare [Hear, hear!]. Nothing had been stated by the honourable the dean of Arches against the motion of his hon. friend. His hon. friend had argued the question generally, and it was complained that nothing specific was brought forward; but had any specific measure been offered, it would have been said it was not the best, and every one would have started forward with his own plan. The House ought not to refuse to have this important subject investigated in a committee—they consented to committees when the object was to destroy the constitution of the country, and on trifling occasions, but they condemned the whole people unheard! There could be no hope that the suspension of the Habeas Corpus would ever be moved while the present financial system was continued. To that system he was convinced we owed all our evils—it would soon effect the total extinction of our commerce, navigation, and manufactures. He was convinced, that so long as the enormous burthen of taxation pressed, there would be no employment for the lower orders of the people. It was idle to talk of making roads and canals, and digging holes one day to be filled up the next. Unless commerce revived there would be no use for more canals. And as to making and filling up holes, it might be justified as continuing the people in habits of industry for a while; but if there was no prospect of the situation of the country improving, there could be no use in their continuing in the possession of habits of industry. And he again repeated that without lessening the taxes, commerce, agriculture, and manufactures must languish and decay.

Mr. Curwen

had wished to have caught the eye of the Speaker sooner, but had he viewed the situation of the country in the same light as the noble lord who had just sat down, he certainly should not have been so anxious to rise. It was because he believed the country possessed the means of recovering from her present difficulties, that he was anxious to see those abuses removed which retarded its prosperity. The state, however, in which parliament and the country were placed by the recent measures was most serious. The reason of the late unconstitutional measures was obvious enough. They had been compelled to abridge the liberties of the people, because they did not possess their confidence. Had the House ever properly inquired into the expenditure of any war? This they had always avoided; and it was this disposition to leave the public purse at the mercy of the ministers of the day of which he complained. In the present session examples had been given of that undue confidence. They had voted very improperly a great war expenditure; and while such things were done, was it surprising that they did not possess the confidence of the people? The wish for reform was general, and he thought it would be wise, as a measure of policy, to give the people some farther degree of political power, not only to induce them to bear the present burthens, but those future difficulties which awaited them. Could it be forgotten that an act of parliament had been passed, the preamble of which recognized that the sale of scats in that House had taken place? The learned gentleman had asked whether a reform would send better members into that House? He did not know that it would alter the individuals who composed that House; but of this he was certain, that if they should be the same men, they would be acted upon by other motives. He would ask whether there had ever been a time in which the people of England bore their distress with greater fortitude? There had only been some trifling instances of irregularity or violence. With regard to the unfortunate persons accused of treason, they were so poor and destitute of any thing like influence, that their situation was calculated to excite no feeling but that of pity. The majority of the people, he was convinced, were attached to the constitution; but a uniform resistance to reform was not the way to preserve that attachment. The example of France had been, as it frequently was on occasions like the present, referred to; but he wished that those who were so fond of directing the attention of the House to that subject, would consider what had been the cause of the French Revolution. In his opinion, it was solely resistance to a timely and prudent reform. On these grounds he should support the motion.

The Hon. J. W. Ward

rose and said:

In one point, Sir, I entirely agree with my hon. friend who spoke second in the debate, that the subject now before us has assumed a different shape from that under which it had hitherto appeared. The number of those that have asked for parliamentary reform, and the temper in which they have argued the demand, have indeed given to the question a new and formidable aspect, and justify the apprehensions I entertain, lest those efforts which are made to bring about a change in our constitution should at last succeed, unless they are earnestly and unanimously resisted at every step. I speak sincerely when I say, that I am far from imputing any ill intention to those gentlemen on the other side of the House who have thought fit, at what appears to me a most inconvenient season, to agitate this question, but they must pardon me when I declare (with that difference only that arises from difference of intention on their part) that a motion for reform in parliament produces upon my mind the same effect as a motion for a democracy, a motion for a revolution, a motion that the form of government under which England has equalled, surpassed the happiness of the wisest, and surpassed the fame of the most glorious communities that ever existed in the world, should now cease and determine. With this impression upon my mind, I trust I may be excused if I trouble you with a few words, only by way of again protesting against this mischievous and formidable innovation, and of discharging, so far as in me lies, my debt of gratitude and deference, to that order of things to which I owe the greater part of whatever happiness I enjoy.

The hon. baronet who moved this question, and the gentlemen that have followed him on the same side, have dwelt, as it was natural they should, with great confidence upon the numerous petitions for reform that have been presented to parliament in the course of the session. Sir, I am as far as any man from denying, that the request of so large a body of persons is entitled to the most serious considera- tion of the House, and yet there are some circumstances both in the matter of these petitions, and in the manner in which they were obtained, which very much diminish the effect they ought otherwise to have upon our decisions. For, Sir, it happens very unfortunately that the objections to our present system of representation, though resting upon no solid foundation of reason or experience, are of a sort well adapted to the taste, and intelligible to the understandings of the vulgar, whilst the principles upon which the defence of it must be placed require more knowledge and reflection than belongs to that class of persons by whom the petitions, for the most part, have been signed. It is very easy to tell them that they have a right to be represented, and it is still easier to show to them that in the sense which they annex to the word, they are not represented; and then the necessity of a sweeping change follows as an inevitable corollary from these two propositions. But to correct their very inaccurate notions of rights, to explain to them that virtual representation of all orders and all interests which exists in the present system, and to unfold to them the complicated scheme of our balanced government, in which the vast power of one estate (that is of the democratical part of the constitution) is prevented from extinguishing the other two, by the salutary influence which they exercise upon that estate in its very composition; is a far more difficult task, and one which it would be almost impossible to execute with success to an irritated, prejudiced, and ill-informed audience. I say ill-informed, because, can any man that has attended to the language of the petitions that have been presented to us, doubt for an instant, that the greater part of the persons by whom we have been addressed are miserably ill acquainted, not only with the reasonings, but with the common historical facts that are necessary in order to put them in a condition to pronounce a sound opinion upon that subject on which they have been advised to address parliament in so peremptory a tone. Indeed, Sir, it appears to me that the petitions are to be considered as the evidence, not so much of a real desire for parliamentary reform, even in the petitioners themselves, as of the prevalence of two great national evils,—distress and ignorance, and for neither of these is any remedy or alleviation to be found in parliamentary reform.

The distress is to be alleviated by private charity, by parsimony carried to its utmost extent on the part of the government, and, ultimately perhaps by some improvements in our system of political œconomy. As to the other great evil—ignorance, it is not necessary that I should endeavour to point out the true remedies; but this much is certain, that it will never be dispelled by the reformers, who have of all men living taken the greatest pains, and with the most success, to darken and mislead the people. At present the history of the petitions I take to be this:—the people are distressed—that unfortunately is the only fact of which they can be quite sure. This is a situation in which complaint is certain, and even ill-humour is to be excused—and when great pains are taken to assure them that their misfortunes are owing to the corruption of their governors, or the defects of their constitution, it is not unnatural that they should listen to those whom they believe to be their friendly and disinterested advisers, and put their names to those insolent and absurd papers with which our table has been loaded almost daily for the last four months, and which, I repeat it, are not to be regarded as a deliberate expression of an opinion which they have probably but little considered; but merely as an indication of a real distress, and an unreasonable resentment. They are entitled to be treated by us tenderly and considerately; but whilst we give full compassion and full credit to the statement of their sufferings, we should act most absurdly as well as most unfortunately for them and for ourselves, if we trusted to their judgment in administering the remedy. I much question whether what we have seen can be considered as forming a popular cry in favour of parliamentary reform; and even if it did, I should look upon it as affording an additional argument against that measure. It would be a proof the more that we ought not to place ourselves in a situation in which we might be governed by temporary opinions, the result of temporary delusions, or temporary distresses; and that we ought to cling more closely than ever to that fortunate and admirable system, which enables us to distinguish betwixt the transitory feelings, and the real permanent sense of the people. Two years ago, we scarcely heard the name of parliamentary reform, two years hence, if our commerce and manufactures revive, we shall hear of it just as little, and the people will look hack with indifference, perhaps with contempt, to their now favourite projects.

The hon. baronet has judiciously framed his motion in the way that is best calculated to conceal those differences of opinion that exist among his friends, and carry the greatest possible number of persons along with him in the vote of this night. But there are, as we are all aware, various species of reformers, too numerous to describe, but who may all be considered as falling under two grand divisions of Radical Reformers and Moderate Reformers—The Radical Reformers by whom the greater part of the petitions have been framed, and who certainly constitute the great majority of the reformers out of doors; and the moderate reformers, to which class the greater part of the gentlemen opposite belong, and who must of course be met by arguments of a very different nature.

By Radical Reformers, I mean not only those that are for annual parliaments and universal suffrage, but all that class that desire to alter the constitution upon some grand general sweeping plan; by Moderate Reformers, I mean those that would be content with partial alterations applicable to what they deem particular grievances.

The mischief and absurdity of what is called radical reform is so generally felt and acknowledged within these walls, that I should perhaps do best by sparing the House the trouble of hearing any thing from me upon that subject. Still, however, as it is the thing asked for in most of the petitions, and as it must consequently be acknowledged to have a large number of supporters out of doors, I shall beg leave to say a word or two upon it before I proceed to those less extensive projects that are recommended to us in parliament.

In the first place, I must observe, in strict conformity to all our history, all our records, and the whole analogy of our constitution, though in direct contradiction to the reformers, that reform by universal suffrage and annual parliaments, is not the restoration of something that did once exist, but the establishment of something quite new, and as little resembling what gentlemen are sometimes pleased to terra the old constitution of this country, as the government of Carthage, or the Roman method of voting by centuries. The hon. baronet has insisted that parliaments were formerly annual; and in one sense of the word I am not disposed to deny that by the law of the land (more frequently violated than observed in those times of violence and barbarism in which he is pleased to fix the pure era of our constitution), they were annual,—but not in the sense that he annexed to the word. Parliaments were annual, that is they were (or ought to have been) summoned ever year; but whether or not they should be new parliaments; seems to have been left to the discretion of the Crown, and was probably not considered to be a matter of much importance. Indeed the next fact which he stated in the course of his historical investigation, is not very well calculated to support his own interpretation of the word "annual." He said, that even as far back as the conquest, William the Norman, conqueror as he was, still was obliged to summon his council every year. Now that council consisted of the great men of the land, earls, bishops, barons, and mitred abbots, who had a personal right to sit in these; it must always have consisted of the same individuals. It might be annual, but it could not be new. Again with respect to the composition of parliament in ancient times; some places, no doubt, are become less populous than they were, the right of election, which was real, has become only nominal; but to affirm that representation was ever proportioned to the wealth or, population of the privileged places, is to maintain a proposition of exactly the same sort, as if any one were to affirm, that in the good old times, the county of Rutland was as big as the county of York, and that the borough of Gatton was in those same happy days as rich as the city of Bristol. It may be very absurd that a place so small as Gatton should send two members, and that a town at all times so considerable as Bristol should send only two, and that a handful of Rutlandshire freeholders should enjoy a privilege that is divided among twenty times their number in Yorkshire, but absurd as it may be, it is an absurdity for which our ancestors are answerable. They had never dreamt of this principle of equal representation, of which accordingly the constitution they have bequeathed to us does not exhibit the smallest trace. As to the influence that was exercised over borough towns in the early periods of our parliamentary history, we have not, so far as I am aware, any accurate means of measuring it; but is it to be imagined that the great nobility in that age, whose enormous estates extended ever whole districts, who were too proud, too powerful, and too barbarous to submit to laws far more necessary than even laws for securing independence of elections, did not exercise the most absolute control over towns which belonged to them almost like their other goods and chattels, and whose inhabitants they still reckoned to be their vassals. But the historical part ' of the question is so clear and unquestionable, that it would be hardly worth while to mention it, did not the language and doctrines one has heard upon the subject, and the traces of them that are almost every where to be found in petitions, afford a most remarkable instance of the ignorance of the great mass of the radical reformers, and of the impudence and dexterity of their leaders in operating upon it. These leaders well know that the people of England are beyond almost any nation attached to the laws and usages of their forefathers, and that the thought of a new constitution would be highly distasteful to them even at a moment of the greatest distress, and the greatest discontent; and they have therefore, with admirable boldness, and admirable falsehood, endeavoured to make themselves so powerful a weapon, and turn it against their opponents, to whom it naturally belonged; and whilst they were in fact proposing as great and formidable a change as ever took place in the government of any country, they have very gravely, and to say the truth not altogether unsuccessfully, stated, that they were only desirous of recalling the constitution to its ancient form, and to acknowledged principles.

But let us consider, or rather let them consider, what sort of government it is that they would give us in place of our own. If they listen to their leaders out of doors, they will be persuaded that radical reform is all that is necessary to make this the very perfection of a mixed and balanced constitution. The king will enjoy his just prerogative;—heaven forbid that they should harbour any design of trenching upon it, they rather wish to confirm and strengthen it in the hands of his majesty, his heirs and successors. The peers too will continue to exercise their lawful and salutary privileges. The reformers have no doctrine at all in reserve by which they might be assailed, still less could they be invalidated by any legitimate deduction from their avowed principles. The only object of their attack is the House of Commons. The only cause of complaint is, that this statue of gold should have feet of clay; only to reform that and all will be well. The king will exercise his prerogative, the peers their privileges, in dignity and security, and the rights of the people will be defended by spotless representatives. The Lords will reject such bills as in their wisdom they disapprove, the king will get back his long lost veto, and make use of it by the advice of ministers who may or may not be members of parliament, worthy unsalaried men, chosen like the bishops among the primitive christians, for their wisdom and sanctity. There would be no discord, no wars, hardly any taxes; there would be no useless talkers, called orators, no over-grown pirates and plunderers called generals, and admirals; no Pitts, no Nelsons, no Wellingtons. There would be no underhand influence, no corrupt sympathy between the two Houses, and between them and the throne. All things would be transacted, plainly simply, and openly,—each body of which the legislature is composed, would play the part that is assigned to it by the constitution, and never seek to pass its just limit.—Thus far, in spite of reason and experience—of reason which tells us that such an assembly never can exist, of experience that tells us such an assembly, so constituted, and so privileged, as a House of Commons reformed upon the radical plan—never did exist, without absorbing the whole power of the state. We are to imagine to ourselves five or six hundred persons, each with twenty or thirty thousand constituents at his back— no indolent, no contemplative, no retired persons among them; no persons that thought, and dared to act as if they thought, that the people can be better served, than by immediate compliance with the popular wish; all active, and enterprising,—able, or making up for the want of abilities by those arts that so commonly supply their place in a democracy—without a single moment for pause, or reflection; dividing their feverish years betwixt debate and canvass—without dignity, without security—constantly catching at a trust that escaped too fast from their hands to be exercised with firmness, or wisdom,—bidding away at a perpetual auction of popularity, the happiness of the very people, whose favour they were to court. And this is an assembly that would respect laws and customs—the imaginary barrier of a constitution; that would be content to take one third of the power of the state, and leave the other two to be peaceably enjoyed, by an hereditary monarch, and a privileged order! an assembly that must never be behind the people in any violence—every individual of which, must tremble for his political existence whenever he did not anticipate their follies, and outrun their madness; which would be affected by the popular feeling, as the most delicate thermometer is by the surrounding air. It would be formidable enough in its ordinary operation, and its natural temperature, but when raised to blood-heat in the storm of enthusiasm, there is no cruelty, no violence, no absurdity, to which it might not be transported. And does any man believe that such an assembly would allow, or that it could allow, its commands to be disputed by the king, or by the House of Lords? No, Sir, it would quickly be discovered, that if the people had a right to be equally represented, they had also a right, to have the will they expressed by that equal representation, implicitly obeyed;—and to say the truth, I should not much object to the justness of the conclusion then, though I object most strongly to the unfairness of disguising it now. So long as the King and the Lords suffered themselves to be carried along by the tide, their insignificant existence would be tolerated by their masters; but the first refusal to register an edict, would disclose the real state of the government. Then would come the time foe speaking out; then would the "arcanum" of the democracy be disclosed; then we should be told, that nothing could be mere absurd, nothing more monstrous, than that the king—a solitary individual—that the Lords, a few lazy aristocrats, should be allowed to oppose their interest, or their caprices to the authentic will of the people; that nothing could be farther from the intentions of those great and wise men, that had planned this happy change, to whom thanks were due, not only for their courage and exertions but also for their prudence, not dazzling at once with full glare of revolutionary light, eyes that had been weakened, by long confinement, in the prisons of the old corrupt government, but in letting it in upon them cautiously, and by due degrees; but concealing from them, till the very last, those grand conclusions that must now appear to be clearly, and irresistibly deduced from established premises. Then standing upon the very brink of a democracy, to which they had led us by sure, though circuitous steps, they would turn round and laugh at those that were affrighted at the leap they were about to take. Now they are loud, and zealous in their professions of loyalty, and attachment to all the uncorrupted parts of the constitution, and treat any doubts upon those points as foul, malignant calumnies; then they would claim credit for their ingenuity, and glory in that pious fraud, which had imposed upon their follower, and defeated their adversaries. Before such a concentration of force, the monarchy and the aristocracy would disappear, like chaff before the wind; and perhaps the best thing for themselves, and for the country, would be, that they should yield without trying the event of a sanguinary, but ineffectual struggle.

The great and civilized state, of modern Europe, which is alone fit to serve for an example, affords us but few instances of an assembly, composed according to the principles of radical reform;—one example, however, it does afford. The assembly in question, was, I believe, in all respects, as far as law could make it so, the very fellow to that which the radical reformers wish to substitute, for the English House of Commons. There had been indeed at first, some talk about limiting the right of voting to persons possessing a certain property; but it ended in a strict conformity to principles, and the consequent establishment of universal suffrage. And what was the result; was there any thing in the conduct of the assembly so constituted, that can be to us an object of imitation, or envy?—Did it contribute to the happiness, or the glory of the country, in which it was established? or, since economy is the other great cry of the moment, did it husband the resources, and diminish the burthen of the people? That assembly was the National Convention of France—an assembly which it would be superfluous to characterize by any epithets of reproach, since the very name of it has become a bye-word among men, and suggests at once all that is most monstrous in cruelty, prodigality, and criminal ambition. I think too highly of the honesty, justice, and good nature of the people of England, to believe that any assembly, however chosen from among them, would equal the guilt, and shame of that infamous body; but still it is proper to recollect, that they were chosen from a which requires peculiar studies, and the great, and civilized people, and that in its form, and in the principles, upon which it was composed, it was the image—perhaps the model,—of a reformed House of Commons; and that this singular union of desperate and flagitious men, was brought together by the choice of the people, expressed in universal suffrage.

The hon. baronet has spoken as usual, with great bitterness, and indignation, upon what are commonly called the rotten boroughs. He and other gentlemen, who entertain similar opinions, usually take for the foundation of their statements and reasonings, the celebrated petition, prepared by my right hon. friend opposite, in the year 1794, and which, he will, I hope, pardon me for saying, savours much of the doctrines that were afloat at that disastrous period, and from the contagion of which the "Friends of the People," did not wholly escape. It is a sort of argument "ad verecundiam." "We can prove so and so, and will you then venture to set your faces to so scandalous a system?" Now, Sir, I must at. once confess, that this is a point upon which I am altogether shameless, I will not consent to argue this question upon any principle of extenuation, or apology. I will not say, that it is an abuse, but that it is so interwoven with the sound part of our system, that it ought to be endured on account of the danger we might incur by removing it. No, Sir; if it is an abuse, it is an enormous, intolerable abuse, and the danger of change is nothing compared with the mischief, of allowing it to continue. But, Sir, I have the misfortune to think it no abuse at all, and to consider the borough system, as it now stands, to be an essential part of the constitution of this country. I value that part of the representation just as much as any other, and I would just as soon part with Yorkshire, as I would with Old Sarum.

The reasons upon which the defence of that system stands have been so often and so ably stated, that I am almost ashamed to trouble the House by repeating any of them; besides, they are so numerous, that the choice even is difficult.

In the first place, by the practice of our constitution—a practice against which I have never heard any valid objection— parliament has become a species of profession;—gentlemen may criticise the expression—but I mean it has become that which requires peculiar studies, and the devotion of a life in those that rise to eminence, and conduct the affairs of the country. It is a task that requires abilities of the first order, exercised and cultivated by continual attention and care. And how are we to expect that labour and that devotion, if the system is not such as will afford a reasonable certainty of a permanent political existence to the persons that engage in it? Men of the highest character and talents may become unpopular—nay, for a time, they may become odious; and is it fit that on that account they should be completely expelled from political life? or, what is still worse for the public, that they should be obliged, in order to avoid becoming odious, and in order to preserve to themselves the means of exertion and display, to court the people in opposition to their own opinion and to the interests of the people itself? And in this view the borough system has a salutary effect upon the representatives of popular places themselves, as those among them that are playing a great part in public life, are by that means rescued from that state of vile dependence upon the temporary will of the people in which they would be placed if there were no such refuge. To a certain point they will go, but that limit they will not pass, because they know that it is not in the power of their constituents to put to them the alternative—too trying perhaps for human virtue—of compliance or of expulsion from public life. And well it is that they should not have that power, to which some of the most eminent men that this country ever produced would have fallen victims. I am not going to discuss the history of old political disputes, nor to inquire who was right and who was wrong in those circumstances that have at different times, within the memory of man, occasioned some of the most distinguished persons in this country to lose their elections for popular places. The only question is, whether or not it was right that they should retain a seat here— whether or not the law, the constitution, the general interests of the country, suffered by their having an opportunity to plead their own cause, and assert their own principles. That opportunity they had under the borough system: that opportunity they would not have had without it: and we have gone a great way towards the defence of that system, when we have shown that (as was undoubtedly the fact) such men as Mr. Burke, Mr. Windbam, and lord Howick, owed to it seats which they would not otherwise have enjoyed in the legislature of their country.

In a reformed parliament—I mean a parliament reformed by the destruction of the boroughs—two descriptions of persons only, would find a place—persons standing upon their local interests, and those to whom, from whatever cause, some share of popularity was attached—proprietors and demagogues. The question then is, whether these are the only persons that ought to have seats? and whether, under such an arrangement, all orders and interests would be as well represented as they are now? I confess I am astonished to hear such a doctrine in the quarter from which it sometimes proceeds. Do gentlemen really think that electioneering is the pursuit that is most calculated to enlarge or elevate the mind? For my own part, I cannot help thinking, that the youth of many of these whom I see around me was much better spent in acquiring those accomplishments, and treasuring up those vast stores of knowledge, which now adorn and enlighten this House, than in the obscure and vexatious labours of a canvass, and in devising means to recommend themselves to this or to that body of electors, in any of the six hundred and fifty districts into which the country would be parcelled under the new system. What the result might have been I do not presume to conjecture; but this much I am sure of, that if they had succeeded to the utmost of their wishes, we should have had far less valuable members of parliament than we have now the advantage to possess. Of this too I am sure, that neither towards them, nor towards any other men of talents, the constitution of this country is delinquent. They may rise as soon, they may rise as high, they may rise by as honourable means, as under any form of government that human wisdom could devise, or human virtue could carry into effect. But then there are gentlemen here who will tell me that this is not the sort of reform they have in view. What they want is something safe, something moderate, something quite free from all those objections that they admit are applicable to such wild projects as annual parliaments and universal suffrage. To them therefore I shall now address myself. But before I proceed, I must beg to be indulged with one or two remarks upon the situation in which the two classes of reformers stand with respect to each other, and with respect to us, a situation so whimsical, that I am utterly at a loss to account for it. It cannot have escaped any person that has attended to what has-been going on for some time past in England, that the radical reformers on every occasion treat the moderate reformers with the utmost scorn and derision; that they not only undervalue their judgment, but they call in question their motives: and on the other hand, the moderate reformers behave themselves with all imaginable charity, and even submission, towards the radical reformers; and lose no opportunity, whenever that is possible, of making common cause with them, and I approach them, whenever they can, in ' humble guise, to pick up a few crumbs of I popularity that fall from their overstocked table. In point of opinion upon the matter in discussion, they approach much nearer to us than they do to their radical friends; for though it is very difficult to understand what they really mean, yet I presume one may do them the credit of supposing, that if it were put to them whether they would have the British constitution as it now stands, with all its imperfections on its head, or have recourse by way of remedy to annual parliaments and universal suffrage, they would prefer things as they now are to so formidable a change. But it is a singular circumstance, and much to be deplored, that though we have the benefit of much greater proximity of opinion, all the feelings, all the inclination, all the patronage of these gentlemen, are given to those that recede from them so much farther than we do, and espouse doctrines, with the danger and absurdity of which they are so thoroughly aware.

Again, Sir, I must remark, that though the great ground of their complaint is, that the people are imperfectly and inadequately represented in parliament, yet that the people are in fact never so ill or so unfairly represented as by those that ask for what they term a moderate reform; who ask it in the name of the people, by whom they were unauthorized from the very beginning, and by whom they are disavowed at every step. Moderate reform! Who is it that asks for moderate reform out of this House, and out of the immediate influence of persons sitting here, and in another assembly very near us? Nothing is more evident, than that the people of England are divided into two classes upon this subject; the majority—an absolute numerical majority, I believe, and certainly an immense majority of the property, knowledge, sense, and good disposition of the country—in favour of the constitution as it is; and an active, and powerful clamorous minority, strengthened very much by the temporary distress and discontent of this particular period, who are for going all lengths, and establishing what, under the name of a monarchy (and bow long it would keep that name is very uncertain) a democratical republic. The hon. baronet opposite, or rather the noble lord, for he seems to be the highest bidder, represents a large share of public opinion; my right hon. friend, the member for Peterborough, who sits below him, represents a much larger; but the gentlemen who talk of moderate reform represent nothing and nobody, or, at best, a few places under the influence of the great proprietors, and here and there a few benevolent whimsical speculatists. Moderate reform is not a popular thing; it is considered—to borrow from a vocabulary with which we have of late been made too familiar—only as an imposture of one of the oligarchical factions. If a moderate reformer were to venture into such a meeting as one of those which have been lately held in some of the large towns, I have no doubt that the quantity of popular hatred, as indicated by the usual exponent of interruption, clamour, and abuse, would be found greater against the moderate reformer than against the anti-reformer. An hon. and learned friend of mine who usually sits opposite, can tell as well as any man what is the reception prepared for persons, even of the first rate character and abilities, who venture to appear in such company with no other recommendation than that of being moderate reformers. The people are either wholly perverted, or quite sound: either duped by a specious, but absurd and mischievous theory, or attached to an ancient and salutary usage. There are some persons against the constitution: there are others, and, thank heaven, a great many more, that are for the constitution. But this motley sect has no hold or influence whatever upon the country. The possibility that their project might lead to further changes, and to greater mischief, is the only thing that rescues it from the contempt of both parties, and recommends it to the hatred of the one, and the countenance of the other. Most people are of opinion, that this building, which has sheltered us so long, so completely, and through so many storms, ought to be kept up just as it is, and just as it has been. There is another party too, whose number and force I am not disposed to dissemble, though I am unable to estimate it precisely, who say that it i6 a clumsy, irregular fabric, utterly unfit to answer the purposes for which they pretend it was constructed, and that it ought to be pulled down and built up again after the plan of some French or American architect; but as to those that are desirous of tampering with the edifice upon some petty notion of his own, and who propose to put up a sham window here, and to stick on a bit of false gothic there, or to illuminate it with a noxious gas at the risk of poisoning all the inhabitants, they form an almost imperceptible minority in the country. They are neither believed nor understood; and the only safe, the only respected partisans of moderate reform are to be found within the walls of this House, where they are screened by the authority which their conduct tends to impair against the people of whose cause they are the self-constituted, disavowed, distrusted advocates. Let me not be so far misunderstood as that I should be accused of maintaining, or even insinuating, that because moderate reform is not popular, that it must therefore be wrong. But what I wish to notice is, the inconsistency of popular men asking in the name of the people, for that which the people do not want, and offering or complaining that parliament is not a fair echo of the public opinion, as a ground for a measure in favour of which there is no public opinion whatever. If when they are asked for whom they appear? They say for the people of England. I shall deny the fact. Let them show their brief, and we shall see that it came from their old client the whig aristocracy, of which I speak with all imaginable respect, (on account of their admirable conduct in the reign of queen Anne,) but which is not the people of England—the suffering people of England, who either acquiesce with meritorious patience under their misfortunes, or who, where they ask any thing, ask for that with the real nature and consequences of which I am persuaded they are quite unacquainted, for a complete and fundamental change in that constitution which showers down upon them the glories of freedom, security, and power, whilst they are denying its principles and cursing its existence.

In order, Sir, to convince the House that I have not given an exaggerated view of the projects of the radical reformers or of the notions they entertain with respect to moderate reform, I beg to read to them a very few sentences from a book that was put into my hands only late in this very morning, which I therefore have not had sufficient time to go through, but which appears to be highly curious and instructive. It proceeds from the pen of a gentleman whose name must be familiar to most of those before whom I have the honour to speak—an author of no mean reputation or ability—I mean Mr. Jeremy Bentham. The very title of it conveys no bad notion of the spirit in which it is written. It is called "Plan of Parliamentary Reform," &c., with an introduction, showing the necessity of radical, and the inadequacy of moderate reform. The title of the third chapter is "Causes of the above, and all other Mischiefs; particular Interests, the Monarchical and Aristocrati-cal, adverse to the universal—their Ascendancy." Of the fourth, which is a sequel to it, "Sole Remedy in principle, Democratic Ascendancy."—Of the fifth, "Remedy in detail—Radical Parliamentary Reform."—Chap. 9. "Honourable House incorrigible.—10. Abdication more truly predicable of Honourable House than of James 2nd.—Quere, as to Forfeiture."— In page 55 of the Introduction, we find this honest avowal of the real object of radical reform, "but for the English Constitution democracy, the only democracy worth the name never could have been known. Oh rare English Constitution!— there, there is thy greatest, there thy only lasting praise.—Balance equality! no: I cannot say equality, when what I mean is ascendancy.—Palsied would be this hand, motionless this pen, if for the first time in a life, already of some length, it were to attempt deception." Chap. 16 is headed —"Moderate Reform; its Arrangements; their Inadequacy."—In chap. 18, he considers those party interests that he deems hostile to adequate reform. I will read one passage which is somewhat curious. The House will observe, that as Mr. Bentham has adopted a very whimsical system, he has also invented for it a very peculiar language—a sort of jargon, which, however, like the "lingua franca" bears a sufficient resemblance to known languages, and the ordinary grammatical forms, to be intelligible even to those that have not made it their particular study:—"In the first place, as to waste and corruption—corruption and waste—of the tories it ever has been and ever will be the interest to keep that portion of the substance of the people which is expended in waste and corruptions as great as possible; so of the whigs likewise; under non-reform this quantity will be left untouched—under moderate reform the reduction in it, if any, would be minimized: under radical reform it would be maximized." There is a great deal more to the same effect, but I forbear troubling the House by reading any more. Still what they have heard, must be considered as throwing some light upon the real nature of radical reform; and the disposition of the radical reformers, both towards the constitution, and towards their moderate brethren; and however we may most of us differ from this ingenious gentleman as to the objects he has in view, we must all feel grateful to him for his candour in explaining them.

But with respect to the intrinsic merits of moderate reform, what evils do gentlemen pretend it would have prevented in time past? What do they think it would hinder for the future? I say this, because I consider them as excluded from the theoretical view of the subject, which would carry them the whole length of radical reform, and which, in fact, they have repeatedly, and I believe sincerely, disclaimed. They say it is necessary, in order to lessen the influence of the Crown. Now, Sir, this argument implies the truth of three positions—one of which I conceive to be doubtful—the other two false. The first is, that the influence of the Crown is too great. The great difference of opinion that prevails upon this point quite bears me out in treating it as doubtful, though I confess the leaning of ray own mind is towards the affirmative. The influence of the Crown arises from two sources, office and establishment. That which arises from office is, I am convinced, not more than is absolutely necessary for the carrying on of the government. It is that arising from establishment which I suspect is too great. I say I suspect only, for it is quite obvious that this is not the moment at which it is possible to form a correct judgment. All notions derived from the war establishment must be very wide of the truth, and in order to come to a sound opinion, it will be necessary to see what is the permanent establishment in peace, and to watch Its ope- ration. At this moment the influence of the Crown derived from establishment must be below its usual average. A great establishment in a course of reduction, is a less abundant source of influence than a much smaller one that is gradually rising, or even stationary. Ever since the peace, the Crown, instead of acts of bounty and grace, has been limited to stern duties of retrenchment and denial—most just, I admit—most necessary—most indispensable; but still harsh, still painful—but productive of any thing besides influence. The duty of retrenchment is so obvious, that the government is never thanked for the performance of it; nay, it is too happy if it escapes being complained against for not carrying economy far enough. But that which fails in obtaining the good-will of the public, insures the dissatisfaction of the individual; so that, whilst the advisers of the Crown are assailed on one side by the open collective clamour of those who, after all the reductions have been made that the public safety will admit, still ask for more;—on the other, they are persecuted in detail by the complaints of thousands of its dismissed, indigent, and discontented servants. But I am quite content to forego any benefit I might take from these circumstances, and to argue upon the admission that the influence of the Crown is too great. But then it remains to be proved that parliamentary reform would diminish that influence. No doubt radical reform would diminish it by speedily abating that nuisance called the Crown itself. No more effectual way of removing a branch can be devised than to cut down the tree. But all the plans of moderate reform that I have ever seen, would tend to diminish the influence of the Crown where it ought to be maintained, and to support it where it ought to be kept in check. They would diminish that regular and systematic—I will not say opposition to—but watch over the measures of government, which is one of the most valuable parts of our present system, and substitute for it long periods of blind confidence, interrupted now and then by fits of unreasonable jealousy and imitation. The fact is, that (unless when the right of voting extends to a very numerous class indeed, and where you are, in consequence, encountered by all the evils of mere mob election), large bodies are by no means models of purity.—Influence finds its way to the constituent quite as readily as to the representative, and a member of parliament, though uncorrupt himself, yet, acting under the influence of influenced constituents, is just as little to be depended upon as if he acted from motives of personal advantage. But even admitting first, that the influence of the Crown is too great, and next, that parliamentary reform would diminish it, still does it follow, in the third place, that it is the most prudent and efficacious mode of attaining that object? Does an inroad upon the very frame and constitution of parliament, come first in the order of remedies? Ought we not to have exhausted all other means before we have recourse to so desperate an expedient? Ought we not to try every revocable before we venture upon an irrevocable step? Ought we not to employ every resource that legislation can supply before we attack the legislature itself,— publish a libel upon ourselves and upon all preceding parliaments, and come before the world with an open acknowledgment of incapacity and ill-faith? If the influence of the Crown be too great, let its patronage, the source of that influence, be diminished; but whilst a single office remains that can be abolished—whilst a single salary remains that can be reduced—whilst a single establishment remains that can be pared down, let parliament go untouched. Do gentlemen think they can stop at moderate reform? Do they think that would content the great body of the reformers out of doors? Will the hon. baronet who moved this question, say, that it would satisfy him? What would be the first motion made (probably by himself) in the moderately reformed parliament? Why, for radical reform. He, and those that think like him, would say, "This is well enough for a beginning, and much more, perhaps, than we could have expected from the members of an assembly so constituted as the old House of Commons; but still we must recollect, that it is but a beginning; that if ever they were compelled by a sense of shame to do so much, it is incumbent upon us that have been chosen upon somewhat better principles to do more." Such an argument would hardly fail of success. We should have another House of Commons, and then perhaps (by a still easier process) another, till, by a series of successive epurations (to use the modern phrase) we should have established the "democratic ascendancy," which Mr. Bentham already so earnestly and so honestly asks for. Moderate reform is only the sharp end of the wedge which, if it is once insinuated into a cleft, will soon be propelled by a force sufficient to rive the proudest oak in the whole forest.

Then comes another mode of argument of which much use has been made by the petitioners. They put together all the grievances, real or fancied, under which the country has suffered from the beginning of the French revolution, or even from an earlier period; and then they at once infer that the government has been corruptly or unwisely administered, and that the constitution ought to be changed. Now, first of all, it is by no means proved that there is any constitution human ingenuity could devise that would be capable of securing us against all the mischiefs and disorders hitherto incident to civil society in its best form, not even if we were completely insulated from the rest of the world, and left to enjoy undisturbed the fruits of our wisdom and virtue; but in a nation whose connexions with foreign countries are so close, so extensive, and so complicated, it is quite monstrous to infer the guilt of the government, or the unsoundness of our constitution, from the suffering of the people.—If one were to listen only to them one should really think that we had fallen upon a time naturally composed and fortunate; that we had gone out of our way to seek wars and to create expenses, and that the rest of mankind had lived peaceable and happy, except so far as they had been disturbed by the ambition and folly of England; instead of being destined as we have been to witness one of those tremendous convulsions in the moral world, which happening at long intervals, shake the whole frame of society to its very foundations; drag the strongest and most reluctant powers into its vortex, when new principles are established, when a new date is made in the history of the world, when the memory of former times fades away before the glare of passing events, and the awful prospect of futurity, and when the unfortunate race of mankind pay before-hand in terror, in discord, and in blood, the price of any advance they are destined to make towards knowledge and freedom. Such a period was the reformation; such a period was the French revolution,—fatal to many, dangerous to all the parts of the great European common-wealth. And then, Sir, when it is past, we are told by great authorities that the English constitution stands in absolute need of amendment, because it alone has been found capable of adapting itself to all the successive exigencies of this long and searching trial; because England is only safe, only glorious, only triumphant, only the guide and arbitress of nations, because she is the single nation in the whole compass of the civilized world that in some vicissitude or other of this awful struggle, has not drank to the very dregs the bitter cup of humiliation; because she alone, though she counts many days of distress and peril, counts no day of despondency, no day of submission—none that she can wish blotted from her annals, —none that can teach posterity to look back with less respect to their ancestors,—none that can lighten the weigh t of duty that will be devolved upon every one hereafter to be born in these islands,—none that can tarnish the bright inheritance of glory bequeathed to him not only by our armies and our navies, but by English sovereigns, English ministers, aye, and by English parliaments in this age.—This is the situation into which the country has been brought by its present constitution, these are the blessings, this is the glory that we have enjoyed under it. Against them is to be set a severe, but I trust temporary difficulty. Sir, I am as far as any man living can be, from undervaluing the distress which prevails at this moment. It is not as a mere phrase of course, not as a mere passing acknowledgment to the ordinary feelings of humanity when I say that I pity the sufferings of the people; still less is it because we are, humanly speaking, exempt from the probability of that extreme misery which has fallen upon so great a part of the country, that we should therefore come here, unmindful of what others endure, to support a mischievous and profligate system. No, Sir; the severity, the acute-ness, the detail of that wretchedness are present to my imagination, and afflicts my heart even now that I address you. They are more entitled to attention and sympathy on account of the manner in which they have been borne. There are still discontents, there have been excesses; but I speak of the great mass of the population, and they have borne their misfortunes, not with the callous patience that belongs to ignorance and slavery, but with the enlightened fortitude of a free and high-minded people, who, in spite of all the pains that have been taken to mislead them, well know how to distinguish betwixt those misfortunes which arise from the folly or wickedness of their rulers, and those which are to be ascribed to the visitation of Almighty Providence in the inevitable march of human affairs. But in ray view of the case, it would be trifling, it would be worse than trifling, with the sufferings of those whom we intended to relieve, if we were to adopt the measure that is proposed without being a great deal better satisfied than we can now be of its efficacy or even of its innocence. The public difficulty arises in part from taxes rendered necessary by a long and expensive war;—I say partly, because it is clear to demonstration that they are not to be wholly imputed to that cause, since the country was never in a state of greater apparent prosperity than in the last year of the war when the taxes were much higher. But in what way would a reformed parliament have prevented the accumulation of the public burthens? To establish that position, it is necessary to prove, or at least to render it probable, that we should have adopted a different line of policy, and that this policy would have succeeded. I do not see the smallest reason for supposing either. By as much as the reform made this House represent more correctly and immediately the opinion of the country, by so much also would it have diminished the parliamentary opposition to the war. Never was there a war more completely national; never was there a war which it would have been more impossible to carry on without the aid of a sincere, well-weighed, deep-rooted conviction of its necessity, prevailing through every part of the country.

There was indeed in the course of that long contest, from which we are just emerged, a period of languor and of doubt as to the necessity of continuing the war. And what was the consequence? Was it that the ministers, supported by a corrupt parliament, were able to persevere in opposition to the public will? No: the result is well known. They were compelled to make peace; and it was not till a sufficient experience of its hollowness and insecurity had reconciled the people to the long course of sacrifices in which they were to be engaged, that the government, with the full approbation of parliament (never more than in that instance the genuine representative),again unfurled the standard of England in a struggle against the insolence and aggression of France. And then, Sir, we are told, that this was the war of the jobbers and the borough-mongers. If I belonged to either class of persons, I should court the imputation. They might say, as a great man of antiquity says, speaking of the death of Julius Caesar, of which he had been accused by his enemies—I was not concerned in it; you know I was not: nothing can be more absurd than to impute it to me: but you tempt me to indulge my vanity at the expense of truth. Be it so then, and let posterity believe that I advised that noble deed. "Quæ enim res unquam, non modo in hac urbe sed in omnibus terris, est gesta major, quæ gloriosior, quæ commendatior hominum memoriæ sempiternæ?" And so should I say, were I speaking for the borough-mongers and jobbers; but speaking for the people of England, I cannot consent to sacrifice their share in a transaction that has crowned its authors with immortal glory. Parliament was only the image and the instrument of those great qualities of wisdom, magnanimity, generosity, and perseverance in this nation, which bore it through that long contest, and placed it at last upon that pinnacle on which it now stands.

Would another line of policy have succeeded better? That is a question to which, from its very nature, it is not easy to return an answer; but it would be still less easy if the policy of England had been the same policy as was pursued by every other nation, and consequently the only one of which we had experienced the result. But the systems adopted towards revolutionary France, were almost as many in number as the countries that had to deal with her. Peace was tried, submission was tried, and we have seen the effect in violated treaties, in oppressed provinces, and in plundered capitals, and in the universal prostration and disgrace of the whole continent of Europe. We have seen it in pacific Swisserland, in neutral Prussia, fraternizing Holland, and submissive Spain; and it was at last, only by adopting English policy, and forming a league under English auspices, that they were enabled to recover their independence, and retrieve their honour.

And yet, it is upon the history of the last five-and-twenty years, the brightest period in our annals, and perhaps in those of any other country, that an argument is founded for a fundamental change in the form of our government. Sir, I cannot believe that the people of England concur in this censure upon their own character, and their own conduct. I cannot believe, that, looking back deliberately upon what is past, they are inclined to lament that a system of compromise, and of abasement before France, was not pursued. I cannot believe, that, even at this moment of distress, they wish that no resistance had been made, and that no triumph had been gained, or that they envy the lot of those nations that followed the pusillanimous line of policy they always had the firmness to reject, and who were forced, under the last of their Jacobin task-masters, to make greater sacrifices in order to aid them in rivetting the chains of Europe, than have been required of us in accomplishing its entire deliverance. I cannot persuade myself that, after all they have been told, they repent of their wisdom, or are ashamed of their honours. If, indeed, they did entertain such sentiments, I should admit that a more proper groundwork could not be chosen for the measure than is now proposed. The destruction of our constitution, and the surrender of our national happiness, could not begin under more just and legitimate auspices than by an abrogation of our national glory. Then, and not till then, will England be fit for this reform, when she laments the counsels of her statesmen, and the victories of her warriors; and the execution of it had best be left to those friends to their country, who regret that the English monarchy never bowed its head to republican or to imperial France—to those friends to freedom, who still mourn over the downfal of a despot in the day of Waterloo.

Before I conclude, Sir, I am desirous to say a few words, by way of vindicating myself, and those that think as I do, from a doctrine that has been frequently, and most unjustly, imputed to us. It has been said, and I have myself been told within these walls, that we are enemies to all innovation. Now, as that is not my opinion, and as it is, on the contrary, an opinion which I despise for its childishness and hate for its mischief, I am naturally anxious to disclaim it in the most clear and authentic form. Undoubtedly, Sir, there are persons who unfortunately do entertain that opinion, who resist all innovation, because it is innovation; and it is also quite clear, that as parliamentary reform is an innovation, we must have the advantage, such as it is, of their aid in opposing it. Just in the same way gentlemen on the other side, who are desirous of a partial change, are supported by those that are desirous of going a great deal further, and who in fact aim at nothing less than the subversion of the whole government. But as we do not impute to them the designs of their Jacobin allies, they ought to render to us the same justice, in not imputing to us a principle, which is as unnecessary to our argument, as it is absurd in itself. I do not object to parliamentary reform because it is an innovation, but because it does not fulfil the conditions that are required, in order to entitle an innovation to support a grievance on the one hand, and a fair prospect of remedy on the other. If, instead of being a subject of this free monarchy, or a citizen of this free commonwealth—call it which you will—I had the misfortune to live under a barbarous and despotic government, I should treat the general argument against innovation with as little respect as it could be treated by any of the gentlemen opposite. Nay, I confess, that the opinions I entertain with respect to many of the actual governments of Europe, are such as would subject me to a charge of Jacobinism from that class of politicians that are interested in maintaining them. There indeed I should laugh with scorn at those that should tell me that a free constitution is a dangerous experiment. The French revolution, conducted by faithless or unskilful hands, was an unsuccessful experiment; or, to speak more accurately my own opinion as to that great event, too costly a one. But what was the reign of Philip the 2d in Spain—what was the reign of every other despot? Something far worse than an experiment—the obstinate renewal and continuation of a system, the folly of which is attested by the darkness and calamities of whole ages, and by the degradation and sufferings of the far greater part of the human race. And therefore I am clearly of opinion, that neither the dread of innovation, nor the example of the French revolution, ought to deter any nation, where an abusive and tyrannical form of government still prevails, from endeavouring, by repeated trials (if it be necessary) to shake off the yoke, and to place themselves somewhat higher in the scale of happiness and dignity. Unlike us, they have much to gain, and little to lose. The prize before them can be won only by perils and by struggles. This is a condition which heaven seems to have annexed to the attainment of so great a blessing. Freedom is, I am afraid, a plant which, whenever it has thriven in perfection, has been watered by blood and by tears—"pater ipse colendi haud facilem esse viam voluit;"—but it is well worth it all; and those that engage in such a struggle, act not only generously, but wisely. But in a country where freedom is already established upon an immovable basis—where an organ for expressing the public opinion already exists, which has never yet failed of the purpose to which it was destined—there I object to innovation. Those principles which are applicable to other countries, do not belong to our situation. We are first in the race. We look back with triumph to those struggles, to which the stoutest heart among them may look forward with anxiety and dread. We have not our liberty to acquire; if we say we have, it is a libel upon our forefathers, who founded it by their labours—who paid for it with their lives; from whom we received it, a rich, a noble, and as far as any human institution can deserve that epithet, a perfect inheritance. When I read the history of this country —when I consider in how long a course of ages, against what obstacles, by what labours, by what chances, our constitution has been established—I tremble at the thoughts of a change—not in our laws, for if we make bad laws, we can annul them—but in our legislature itself—but an irrevocable change, and perhaps therefore an irremediable evil. I dread a change, which, by throwing the machine off its balance, might derange every motion, and bring it, within no long space, into a state of inextricable confusion and ruin.

Sir Samuel Romilly

said, that though he presented himself to the House immediately after his hon. friend, he had no intention of following him through all the topics of his able and elaborate speech, which seemed to have anticipated a course of debate that had not taken place, and to have been prepared to answer arguments which he must have been disappointed at not hearing used. There were some of those topics, however, to which, if he possessed one faculty in as eminent a degree as it appeared his hon. friend did,—that of memory—he might give a complete answer, even with a degree of eloquence equal to his hon. friend's,—nay, with his own eloquence, and in his own words: for he would only have to repeat the speeches which his hon. friend had delivered in that House, in the course of the war, censuring in the strongest terms the blunders and the misconduct of those ministers, whom he now so highly extolled; The House could not but recollect his memorable speeches upon the Walcheren expedition, and the Spanish campaign.—The hon. gentleman had enlivened his speech by quoting a book which he said he had not read, and, as it should seem, for no other purpose than to produce a few lines, in which the conduct is condemned both of Whigs and of Tories. For such a purpose no one could be more happily selected than the hon. gentleman, since no one could be better qualified to cast indiscriminate censure on both parties, than he who had passed a great part of his political life in censuring with Whigs the mal-administration of Tories, and now distinguished himself in the ranks of the Tories, by his sarcasms and censures of the Whigs. For the author of that book he entertained the highest respect, and the most sincere and intimate friendship. He was a man of the greatest talents, and of the purest integrity, and who had devoted a long life to the advancement by his valuable writings, of the best interests of mankind; but of the work in question he would only say, that he could not agree to the opinions it contained, and he greatly lamented that it had ever been published.

Without entering fully into the question of parliamentary reform, which had been so often discussed, that little that was new could be said upon it, he should content himself with saying, that he should most cordially vote for the motion. He gave that vote from a most sincere conviction that some reform was necessary, and he entertained no hope that he could gain any popularity by giving it; on the contrary, he knew that he was rather likely to draw odium upon himself, by those who most influenced the public opinion; for he could not suffer this opportunity to pass without saying, that he was no friend to universal suffrage, or to the making the right of voting in elections co-extensive with taxation, or even to annual parliaments; but from an early period of his life, long before he had had a seat in the House,—from the time when he had in the gallery witnessed its deliberations, and had heard Mr. Pitt with the generous warmth of youth, and with the same eloquence as distinguished his maturer age, pleading the cause of parliamentary reform, he had been deeply impressed with the expediency of it, and every thing which he had since observed, and more particularly since he had himself become a member, had only served to strengthen that impression.

The right hon. and learned gentleman had said, that Mr. Pitt had, in a more advanced period of his life, corrected his opinions on this subject; he knew not what authority he had for saying so; Mr. Pitt had never avowed such a change of opinion, and though he had no admiration for that distinguished person, the principles on which he acted in his long administration having, in his opinion, ill corresponded with his outset in public life, yet, upon this particular subject, he could not but consider the statement as a slander upon his memory. Such changes of opinion on important subjects, were not so lightly to be passed over. When the public saw men professing themselves loudly to be friends of parliamentary reform, and advocates for the rights of the people, but deserting all those professions, and taking an opposite course when they had got into office, they must ascribe the change to a very different cause than a more mature and sober judgment. Being convinced of the necessity of a reform of parliament, he was also convinced, that no time was more favourable for it than the present. We were in a state of peace. The effects of the bad policy on which government had acted, were at this moment most severely felt: the call for parliamentary reform was general throughout the country; and never, upon any former occasion, had there been so many petitions, or petitions so numerously signed, upon the subject; and though many of them asked much more than, in his opinion, ought to be granted, yet that afforded no reason for refusing them every thing. Even a little obtained in correcting the state of the representation, might, in his opinion, be attended with very important results. If they were only to get rid of two or three rotten government boroughs, very beneficial effects might follow; since extremely important questions had been carried or had been lost by only two or three votes. All, however, that was now asked was, that a committee should be appointed to inquire into the subject, and the very gentleman who expressed much apprehension from naming a committee as if it were to introduce a total revolution, declared that he did not believe that there was one member in the House who had adopted the wild notion of universal suffrage. The right hon. and learned gentleman affected to make very light of the declared opinions of the people; their opinions, he supposed, were suggested to them by unprincipled leaders, and he would persuade the House, that a few demagogues had, by some marvellous but unexplained means, been able to get the signatures of half a million of persons to the petitions on the table; and with all this he professed to respect the people's voice, but not their senseless clamour. That is, in other words, when any popular cry concurs with the opinion or suits the politics of the learned gentleman, as when his friends forced their way into administration by the cry of "No Popery," he respects the people's voice; but when what they call for is only to secure their liberties, and to impose checks on the abuse of power in ministers, it is to be disregarded as a senseless clamour.

The hon. gentleman advised the House to take warning from the French Revolution, and not, by adopting the innovations which were suggested, to draw upon the nation all the same evils as had overwhelmed France. This admonition surely proceeded from a very inaccurate observation of what had passed in France. It was not by listening to proposals of reform, but by an obstinate refusal of all such propositions, that the French Revolution had been brought about. Instead of correcting abuses, the government persevered in retaining them, till they had become so intolerable, that the whole nation revolted against them; and in the universal feeling of disgust and indignation at what had passed, the old government and all its institutions were destroyed. The lesson which the French Revolution afforded was, not to refuse to listen to proposals of reform till the time for reform was gone by, and the calamities of a revolution had become inevitable.

The right hon. and learned gentleman had represented the British constitution as being of so delicate a frame, that the least derangement of it might cause its destruction— the slightest scratch, he had said, might fester, and become a mortal wound. Surely this was a slander on the constitution—it was of a more robust and vigorous frame. When it had survived such innovations as the Septennial act and the union with Ireland, could it truly be represented that it would be endangered by taking the elective franchise from some decayed and deserted boroughs, to give it to the inhabitants of prosperous and populous towns? The view which the hon. gentleman who spoke last had taken of the subject, was perfectly new; he considered the present state of the representation as the effect of design and the result of the wisdom of our ancestors, and not, as it really was, the unforeseen consequences of gradual decay and accident, and as brought about imperceptibly by time, which lord Bacon justly calls "the greatest of innovators." It was with astonishment he had heard his hon. friend declare, that he considered the representation of Old Sarum as entitled to as much repect as that of the county of York. To represent such a deviation from all the principles of the constitution, as the effect of contrivance, and as that which had produced that happiness and prosperity which the right hon. and learned gentleman admonished us not to bring into danger by any change, was to deceive and to mislead us. When the right hon. gentleman talked of our present prosperity, who would imagine that he was speaking at a time when our foreign trade was diminished, our manufacturers unemployed, the agricultural interests labouring under difficulties such as were never known before, the poor-rates increased till it was hardly possible to levy them, our financial revenues exhausted, the nation struggling under taxes which they were unable to support, and the revenue of the state falling far short of its expenditure; and when the greatest safeguards of our liberties— the writ of Habeas Corpus and the trial by jury—were suspended? That such a state of things should have produced general discontent, and should have induced the people to look to a reform of parliament, upon which they had seen such men as Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt, who were opposed to each other upon most other subjects, united in opinion as a remedy for the evils under which they laboured, was not matter of surprise.

The House would do well to pause before they disappointed all the hopes which had been raised, and refused even an inquiry into the subject. In all their distresses the people had looked up to parliament; they had implored the regent to call parliament together; and it would be greatly to be deplored, if now that they were assembled, they were to refuse to listen to the prayers of their constituents. Besides holding out the danger of innovation, the hon. gentleman alleged, that if once we began these reforms there was no saying at what point they were to stop. This was an artifice always resorted to when improvements of any kind were pro- posed. Thus with respect to the Catholics of Ireland it was said, if you relieve them from the disabilities of which they complain, they will next require that tithes should be abolished, and afterwards, that their tenets may become the established religion of the island. The answer to these sophisms is, that each question must be decided on its own merits; and that we are not justified in refusing what is expedient and just, because if it is granted, something unjust and inexpedient may be demanded.

He must again repeat, that though he did not go the lengths of many of the advocates for reform, there were improvements in the representation, from which he had no doubt that the happiest results might be expected. Among the first of these was, in his opinion, a repeal of the Septennial act. In the last sessions of a parliament, or when its dissolution was apprehended, the sentiments of the people acquired an influence in it which they had at no other time. Measures which a minister would confidently reckon upon in the first session of a parliament, it became impossible for him to carry when the time for its being dissolved was near at hand. Did any person believe that the property tax would have been repealed, if it had not been in so advanced a period of the parliament's existence? It had been pretended, indeed, that the parliament, as it was constituted, at all times spoke the opinion of the nation;—to refute such a statement, need he do more than refer the House to their memorable resolution upon the Walcheren expedition, to the corn laws they had passed, or to their late vote upon the salt duties. There was One point upon which he entirely differed from the hon. baronet—it was upon the opinion entertained by him that the proprietors of boroughs were to be considered as a kind of oligarchy, which even imposed restraint on the authority of the Crown. He was convinced that, instead of restraining, they greatly increased the authority and influence of the Crown, and it was for that reason that he was an enemy to the present system. The influence of the Crown had been augmented to a very alarming extent, and the present state of borough representation greatly added to it. Honourable exceptions there undoubtedly were—men who exercised the power they had of nominating members of that House from the noblest motives, by appointing persons merely from the good opinion which they entertained of their principles and their talents; but in general those who purchased this species of patronage, bought it like other property, to make the most they could of it; and it was only by ranging themselves under the banners of ministers, that they could make their parliamentary influencelucrative. Thinking this a great evil, and being most anxious to see it corrected, he should certainly Vote for appointing the committee.

Mr. Lamb

rose and said:—

I am unwilling at this late hour to intrude myself upon the patience of the House, but as a considerable interest and agitation prevails, or appear to prevail in the public mind upon this subject, as it is a question of not very frequent occurrence, and as I hope and trust that hereafter it will be proposed even more rarely than it has been heretofore, it is not unnatural that I should be anxious to seize this opportunity of delivering my opinion upon it. Nothing, Sir, which has passed in the course of the discussion of to-night has created more surprise in my mind, than that both the worthy baronet and ray hon. friend, who seconded this motion (Mr. Brand) should have attempted to support themselves by the authority of Mr. Burke. The passages which they have cited for this purpose, are taken from an early work, intituled, "Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents," a work published in the year 1770. They undoubtedly prove that he had a full knowledge and understanding of the duty and functions of this House, and that he was impressed with a deep sense of the evil consequences of that duty being neglected, or those functions being ill discharged; but what is their real effect, except to give greater weight and force to the opinion which be afterwards declared, when, this question at the close of the American war being more than once presented for his decision, recommended by great abilities, sanctioned by considerable popularity, and called for, as it was contended, in the same manner as at present by great public distress, he utterly rejected it, declaring the House of Commons, as then formed, to be adequate for every useful purpose, and deprecating the proposed alteration as entirely visionary, and in the highest degree dangerous.

In the course of this debate, we have heard much, as it was very natural that we should, of the numerous petitions which have been laid upon the table of this House, and of the strong testimony they bear of the public opinion and desire upon this subject. Sir, I must at once state distinctly for myself, that when I consider the manner in which these petitions have been prepared and procured, the pilgrimages which have been undertaken for the purpose of promoting them, above all when I recollect the speeches which at public meetings have preceded and recommended them, the gross misrepresentations, the delusive promises, the wild hopes, and the excessive exaggerations under the influence of which they have been voted, I cannot consent to consider them as expressing in any degree the cool, deliberate, well-understood sense of the people of England. I might content myself with going thus far upon this point, but what I conceive to be reason and truth compel me to go somewhat farther. They compel me to state that which I should feel no difficulty in declaring before an assembly of the people, and assemblies of the people I have never shown any indisposition or unwillingness, to meet, but which I do feel some difficulty in declaring in this House. Because the rule which the great Roman orator represents to have guided his conduct appears to me also very fit to be adopted and acted upon by an English member of parliament. "Mihi semper in animo fuit, ut in rostris curiam, in senatu populum defenderem." But, Sir, I cannot so far forget the side of the House from which I am now speaking, nor the transactions of the last thirty years, nor can I so far give up the great principles which we have maintained, nor the conduct both of those who are gone and of those who survive, as to admit that the popular opinion must necessarily be in the right. The people collectively are, like individuals, liable to error—they are subject to be inflamed by passion—to be misled by delusion—to be blinded by prejudice. Morality has no more irresistible arguments than those, by which she warns us of the vanity of human expectations, and the mistaken direction of human prayers, and history is pregnant with examples, How nations sink, by darling schemes oppress't When vengeance listens to the fool's request. In what I shall say further upon this subject, I beg to be understood as not denying that there may be imperfections in the constitution, and errors in the conduct of this House, nor as pledging myself against the amendment of such errors and imperfections, if the means of amending them can be discovered, any more than against the remedy of any other evil, physical or moral. I am not hostile to alteration or innovation, if it appear provable that they will be for the better. I am against every scheme and device that I have yet heard recommended upon this subject, because I believe not only that the adoption of them will not cure any of of the evils, which at present exist, but will deprive us of many advantages, which we at present enjoy, and produce new evils greater than any which are to be found at present. When my hon. friend, the member for Hertfordshire (Mr. Brand) brought forward his motion upon this subject some years ago, and proposed to extend the right of voting in counties to copyholders, I voted with him upon that question; and if he will now renew that motion, I am ready to repeat that vote. If any measure should be proposed at any time respecting out-voters in boroughs, similar to that formerly introduced by my right hon. friend near me (Mr. Tierney), to the principle of such a measure, I do not mean now to pledge myself to the details of it, I am prepared to give my support. But if upon the strength of such opinions as these I were, in the present state of the public mind, with the principles which are professed and the expectations which are entertained, to give my vote for a committee generally upon the state of the representation, what should I be doing but putting a gross delusion upon the people, and taking to myself a popularity to which I have no right nor title whatsoever.

In the discussions of this question, which take place elsewhere — in the speeches and publications of its advocates, it appears to me that the grounds upon which they rest it are never stated with sufficient exactness and precision. They never clearly distinguish how far they demand it as a restoration of rights which formerly existed, and customs which formerly prevailed, but which have been by fraud or force usurped from them, and how far they recommend it as an alteration beneficial in itself, and rendered necessary by the changes of time and circumstances.— To those who hold that things are in such a state, that every change must be for the better, and that the more complete it is, the greater will be its advantages, it certainly is of very little importance to define upon what principle it shall proceed; but to us, who feel perfectly confident that no advantage whatsoever will result from any measure that may be taken, that the best we can hope is, that things will not be rendered worse by it,—who are assured, that nothing will be produced by it but disappointment,—that no extraordinary reformation is to be expected, that human affairs will hold their accustomed course, that after the adoption of this wonder-working remedy there will be ambition, corruption, intriguing, cavalling just as there was before,—we must necessarily be very anxious to have it clearly defined and settled upon what principle it is that we are to act, in order that we may be able to find some bound and limit, some termination to the course, in which we are called upon to engage;—otherwise, when it is found, as will undoubtedly be the case, that no expectation is answered by a scheme, which has raised such inordinate expectations, we shall be told that it fails, only because we have not carried it far enough; we shall have lost our first argument against all innovation; we shall be embarked in it with nothing to guide or direct us, and shall find no end to our wanderings except in general anarchy and confusion.

The petitions in general speak of the measure as a restoration of rights.— "Restoring to the people their just share and weight in the legislature," are the words of the city of London. Now, to what period are we to recur, in which we may find the people in a more full and free possession of those rights and privileges, than they are at present? — Lest I should fatigue the House, I omit all reference to those earlier periods of our history, upon which the worthy baronet has relied, although his observations upon that part of his subject are liable to remark, and open to reply.—But are we to go back to the origin of the English House of Commons, which commenced in the reign of Henry the 3rd or Edward the 1st, and which continued, according to the worthy baronet, pure and free and constitutional until the reign of Henry the 8th?—Now, I cannot but ask, what temptation is there to go back to the institutions of these times? Wars of aggrandizement and ambition are complained of—the present constitution of this House is supposed to have produced them.—Is it to avoid such wars that we are told to recur to the reigns of Edward 3rd and Henry 5th? Is it to guard against the evils of favourtism, of weakness, of prodigality that we are bid to look to the times of Edward 2nd and Richard 2nd; or is it to prevent civil dissension that we are referred to the example of Henry 6th? The government of this country is charged with a military spirit and with gigantic projects of foreign conquest and continental domination.— Could there be a more gigantic project than that which was conceived and eagerly prosecuted in this pure constitutional era, the project of uniting the crowns of France and England upon the same head, and which, as it was eagerly pursued abroad, was supported by a most severe and fleecing taxation at home?—In short, what calamities, what disasters, what misfortunes, what crimes, are there that afflict and oppress nations, which are not collected and crowded together, one upon another, into that period of our history, which is held up to us as affording a model and example of peace, of liberty, and of happiness?

But is there any truth in the statement of this superior purity? Is there any foundation for these representations? What reason have we to think that the nobility at that period had so much less influence in this House than at the present day? Oligarchy is now the popular word of reproach.—Why, in all human probability, according to all sense and reason, the government must at that time have been much more of an oligarchy than it has been since.—In the first place, the nobles possessed one most essential requisite of an oligarchy in a much greater degree— They were much fewer in number than at present; their possessions were much larger, and the opposing and counterbalancing interest of commerce, if considered in comparison with the weight it has at present in the scale, could hardly be said to exist at all.—I have not examined into the matter very deeply or very accurately, but it appears to me that there are continual traces in this part of our history of a very strong influence being exercised by the nobles in this House; and is it not highly improbable that at a time when their actual power was so much greater than it is at present, when the deference paid to rank was so much more implicit, when the whole nation, from the highest to the lowest, was bound and fastened together in the chain of feudal de- pendence—is it not in the highest degree improbable that the House of Commons alone should escape the effects of the general condition?

With respect to the parliaments from the time of Henry 8th, bodies, certainly often chosen for the immediate purposes of party, but whom the Tory writers have, to favour their own conclusions, condemned far too universally, and with too little discrimination,—for upon many occasions, as for instance, the popish parliament in queen Mary's time, upon the occasion of the Spanish match, they evinced a truly British spirit, and delivered down most valuable precedents to after times—it is perfectly clear that the greatest influence was exercised upon the election of them by letters to sheriffs, the interference of great men, and by other violent means—and so little is the practice of nominating members to this House peculiar to the present day, that I have myself seen private letters of the time of Charles 1st from friend to friend offering blank burgess-ships to be filled up with any name, the person at whose disposal the seat was placed, might think proper.—I did not myself know what was meant by a blank burgess-ship until in the fourth volume of the work which goes under the name of Tindal's Continuation of Rapin's History, I met with the following passage: the author of it supposes the practice to which he alludes to have commenced in the time of which he was writing, but it certainly was much older— "Instead of drinking and entertainments, by which elections were formerly managed, now a most scandalous practice was brought in of buying votes with so little decency, that the electors engaged themselves by subscriptions to choose a blank person, before they were trusted with the name of the candidate."—Now, Sir, is this the case at present? I am very ignorant of the practices which prevail in this respect; but are they such as are described as having prevailed at the period referred to? Are there many boroughs, which would now endure to be so dealt with? But that nominations, which are now so much condemned, existed at the time of the Revolution, and had existed for a long time before, there stands a complete proof upon the statute book in the act of the 2d William and Mary c. 7, intituled "An act to declare the right and freedom of election of members to serve in parliament for the Cinque Ports," and of which the preamble is as follows; "Whereas the election of members to serve in parliament ought to be free; and whereas the late lord wardens of the Cinque Ports have pretended unto, and claimed as of right, a power of nominating and recommending to each of the said Cinque Ports, the two ancient towns, and their respective members one person, whom they ought to elect to serve as a baron or member of parliament for such respective port, ancient town, or member, contrary to the ancient usage, right, and freedom of elections." Now here are seven members of parliament at once in the nomination of one individual, and that by a usage so old, so established, and which had acquired to such a degree the force of law, that it was thought necessary to pass an act of parliament in order to break into and discontinue it. So much for the question of restoration.—I have very little doubt that the practices, which are complained of as usurpations upon the privileges of the people, have existed in all times, nearly to the same extent as in the present.

It must, however, be also admitted, that these practices, which cannot be denied to have prevailed, have also at different times been made subjects of observation and animadversion. They have been condemned as grievances, and there are, no doubt, authorities in our history for the proposal, and even for the adoption of measures, similar to those which are in the contemplation of the worthy baronet. Whether those authorities are of the most respectable character, it is for the House to determine. The worthy baronet has, upon the present occasion, omitted the proclamation of James 1st, upon which he was formerly accustomed to rely; I shall therefore omit it also. He confines himself to the precedent of Oliver Cromwell, and upon that I shall say a few words. For Oliver Cromwell it is not my intention to express any violent condemnation of his memory. The superior atrocity which has marked the conduct of those who, in our times, have run the same career, the scenes of later days, the horrors of the French revolution, one of the worst effects of which is that it has raised our estimate of crime, have given to his life and actions a character almost of lenity, of equity, and of moderation. Oliver Cromwell certainly not only suggested, but carried into effect a plan of parliamentary reform. He disfranchised the decayed and the smaller boroughs; he gave representatives to the more populous towns; in short, he adopted many of the measures, which have been since proposed and recommended. This scheme, however, derives its principal weight from the cursory approbation which is bestowed upon it by Clarendon; and its chief effect upon the present occasion is, that it has enabled its advocates to bring forward the authority of that great statesman and lawyer in support of their opinion. We find accordingly this passage from his works quoted and relied upon in the early speeches of Mr. Pitt, and in most of the publications upon that side of the argument—It must, however, be observed, that if there be any subject upon which the authority of Clarendon is to be received with doubt, with hesitation, and with allowance, it is upon any thing relating to the privileges and constitution of the House of Commons. He had seen this House outstep its due office in the constitution; he had seen it overbear and destroy the monarchy and the aristocracy; he had witnessed, and been an actor in the calamitous scenes of that time, and there can be no wonder, as there is no doubt, that there remained upon his mind a bias and a prejudice against the claims and powers of that body, which, in his opinion, had used their power so ill, and pushed their authority so far beyond its due and constitutional limits.—With respect to the precedent itself, if considered seriously, nothing can be more absurd. If it prove any thing, it proves that propositions of this nature should always be received with the utmost suspicion; that they are mere devices on the part of those who bring them forward for the purpose of obtaining popularity, and through popularity power; that they lead in the end to oppression, iniquity, and violence, embittered by the most open mockery and derision of those who have confided in them. The following is the passage in question—"But the time drew near now, when he (Cromwell) was obliged, &c. to call a parliament, &c. In order to this meeting, though he did not observe the old course in sending writs out to all the little boroughs throughout England, which are to send burgesses (by which method some single counties send more members to the parliament, than six other counties do), he thought he took a more equal way by appointing more knights for every shire to be chosen and fewer burgesses, whereby the number of the whole was much lessened; and yet the people, being left to their own election, it was not by him thought an ill temperament, and was then generally looked upon as an alteration fit to be more warrantably made, and in a better time." Thus far the book is accustomed to be quoted, because thus far it is thought favourable: but it is often very useful, and often greatly alters the bearing and import of a passage, if we read a little onwards in the volume, and see what follows,—look at the consequences of this measure; look at the manner in which it was carried into execution, and at the use which was made of it—"and so upon the receipt of his writs, elections were made accordingly in all places, and such persons for the most part chosen and returned, as were believed to be the best affected to the present government, and there being strict order given that no person who had ever been against the parliament, during the time of the civil war, or the sons of any such persons should be capable of being chosen to sit in that parliament, nor were any such persons made choice of. Then Cromwell said to them in his speech, 'and besides all this, he had called a free parliament, that blessed be God, he that day saw a 'free parliament.' Why, Sir, the ministry might very safely accede to a reformation upon Cromwell's plan; they might give all that is demanded, universal suffrage and all, provided you would give them in return Cromwell's prerogative of designating who should not be chosen. But, seriously, what is there in this, but the scheme of a usurper, who feels his power tottering under him, and who is desirous by any means whatsoever, to conciliate some share of public opinion, and obtain, if possible, by any profession or delusion, some popular support without meaning at the same time to give up any part of his supreme and absolute authority? Besides, we must recollect the manner in which Cromwell acted towards his parliaments:—if they thwarted or displeased him, he cleared the House out with a body of soldiers, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. Now, a man who had so easy a mode of disposing of parliaments, was naturally very indifferent with respect to any experiments he might make upon the mode of bringing them together.

Sir, I have a precedent to oppose to this precedent of the worthy baronet's; it is taken from the conduct of one who also, but by very different means, profess- ^* Hist. of Rebellion, Vol. 3, p. 386. ed it to be his object to call a free parliament.—It is the declaration of the prince of Orange, of the eleventh of October, 1688, and it states the doctrines upon this subject professed and acted upon at the Revolution;—and here I cannot but venture to call upon the descendants of those who acted so conspicuous and beneficial a part in those memorable times, upon the Cavendishes, and upon the Russells; if any of them be engaged in this new course of parliamentary reform, as it is called—I implore them to reconsider the conduct and the opinions of their ancestors, and at least to pause before they so suddenly and widely depart from those institutions, and those maxims and forms of government, which were asserted, and, as I had hoped, ratified, sanctioned, and consecrated at that period. The declaration is as follows: "We now think fit to declare, that this our expedition is intended for no other design, but to have a free and lawful parliament assembled as soon as is possible; and that in order to this, all the late charters, by which the elections of burgesses are limited contrary to the ancient custom, shall be considered as null and of no force; and likewise all magistrates, who have been unjustly turned out, shall forthwith resume their former employments; as well as all the boroughs of England shall again return to their ancient prescriptions and charters."* These were the maxims of that time. A reformation was here intended, but it was a reformation proceeding upon restoration and re-establishment, not upon overthrow and destruction.

But, however, whether the measures proposed be according to the ancient theory and practice of the constitution or otherwise, whether they be founded on precedent or sanctioned by authorities, and whatsoever be the weight of those precedents and authorities, if the effects of the system as it at present exists are evil, and if means are to be found of ameliorating it, no doubt they ought to be adopted. But to determine this question, we must not have recourse to mere theories, and visionary ideas of perfection; we must look at the actual state of things, and at the working of the machine. Many other popular opinions are founded, it appears, upon the celebrated petition presented to this House in the year 1793, by the pre- ^* See New Par. Hist. Vol. 5, p. 10. sent earl Grey,^* and conclusions are frequently drawn even in the resolutions and other acts of public meetings, from the mere circumstances of the reception of that petition, which are in no respect warranted by it. We are continually told that all the facts alleged in that document, may be assumed and argued upon as true, because they stand uncontradicted upon the Journals of this House. Why, every petition that is presented to this House is read, is laid upon the table, and is consequently printed in the Journals, but it is almost unnecessary to say that it cannot be from thence inferred that every allegation in every petition is necessarily true. With respect to the body of the petition, I have no observation to make, but that it condemns as a blemish and defect, that which I consider as one of the greatest advantages of the present system. It complains of the variety of the rights of election, and of the anxious care taken by this House, in its committees to guard, to protect, and preserve them. This I own appears to me a beauty to be admired, a merit to be imitated, a useful and advantageous principle to be cherished, not an evil to be removed, and a grievance to be redressed. But if the Table of Parliamentary Patronage, as it is called, which is annexed to the Petition in the appendix to a very valuable pamphlet, lately published by Mr. Evans upon this subject, is to be taken as part of the report, I must say, that I think a statement more incorrect, more essentially unfair and delusive, was never given to the public. In this table I find the duke of Devonshire stated as nominating a member for the county of Derby, the duke of Bedford for the county of Bedford, the duke of Beaufort for the county of Gloucester, and so on; and this influence is, without distinction, put in the same list, and under the same ban, as that which governs the closest borough in the kingdom. Why, is this fair? is it just? is it to be borne, that because these persons are at the head of great properties,—because they bear ancient and venerable names, because their ancestors have done much, and they are doing much for their country, because they are good masters and good landlords, because they are esteemed, respected, and beloved, and that therefore when any member of their family, otherwise qualified for the trust, is presented to the counties in which they reside, there is ^* See New Par. Hist. Vol. 30, p. 787. a general disposition to elect him in preference to others,—are they for this to be branded as guilty of corruption, and as violators of the constitution? Now, Sir, if it were desirable to destroy this influence, which I deny, is it possible? Could you do it, if you would, at least without much greater changes than are avowed, whatever may be intended? There is, Sir, a resolution upon our Journals, that no peer shall in any manner interfere in our elections—a very proper resolution it is to preserve conformity, and to prevent the open exertions of power. But we must recollect the authority of acts of parliament, as well as of resolutions of this House, is bounded by the nature of things —a resolution, that the duke of Northumberland with his property in the county from which he takes his title, shall have nothing to do with the election for that county, is a resolution, that the tide shall not ebb, that the wind shall not blow —whilst the property remains, the influence will accompany it. The Spencean system is often the theme of ridicule in this House; it is wild, absurd, impracticable, as you please—But, after all, it is the most reasonable plan of reform that I have yet heard of; because it does propose a means of effecting its own object, which none of the other schemes do— break up and separate the property; with it you break up and separate the influence. It has, Sir, happened of late years, that some boroughs have thrown off the allegiance they formerly held, and have chosen for themselves those members who were before imposed upon them by the nomination of peers. I do not think that practically the representation has in these instances gained either in talent or in respectability, and that is all I think it proper to say upon this part of the subject.

Upon the whole, Sir, parliamentary influence is a great power in the state, and power is a good or an evil, according as it is well or ill exercised. If a person possessed of parliamentary patronage make use of it to introduce into this House persons who, upon a fair and liberal construction, hold the same general opinions in politics as himself, persons who are capable of discerning the right by their talents, and of maintaining it by the firmness of their characters, I certainly am bound to think, and had I no personal reasons, I believe I should still think, that in such an arrangement there is nothing but what is honourable both to him who confers and to him who receives the obligation; nothing but what is advantageous to the public service. I know there is another side of the picture—I know that the power may be used in another manner—a man may place in this House a set of followers upon no other condition than that of acting according to his will and at his direction; having prepared this subservient train, he may then lie in wait for the difficulties of the times, he may watch the moment when parties are equally balanced, and he may then make favours and compliances the price of his support, thus acting without honesty himself, and perhaps doing essential injury to his country, by forcing into important situations persons incompetent to discharge the duties of them. This I consider the greatest blemish and defect of which I am aware in the system.—But the question at last comes to be determined upon a balance of good and evil, and in that balance, in my opinion, the good greatly predominates. That single topic, which has been so often enforced and illustrated with an eloquence which it were idle in me to attempt to emulate, namely, the introduction of men of abilities into public life, is for me at once of itself conclusive in favour of the present system. Upon this it is vain for me to expatiate; it would be perfectly superfluous to quote the names or to describe the eminent qualities of Fox, of Burke, of Pitt. Those who oppose the present motion, already feel for them a reverence which cannot be increased; for those who feel it not, it cannot be expected that any words of mine can raise it in their bosoms—of them therefore I say nothing; but it is somewhat remarkable, and should, as it seems to me, weigh somewhat in favour of things as they are, that all those who have been anxious in this cause and who have distinguished themselves as advocates of reform, excepting, indeed, Mr. Wilkes the father of the measure in modern times; that all from Mr. Tooke downwards have owed their power of declaring their opinions in this House not to the favour of the people, but to that which they represent as the most corrupt and abominable part of the system. The worthy baronet himself; his popularity in Middlesex, his seat for Westminster, has its root in that system—it was as the member for Boroughbridge that he obtained the opportunity of first displaying those talents, which I have always admired, although I have unfortunately frequently differed from him with respect to the propriety of their application and direction.

More, Sir, I should have said, but the subject has been very much exhausted, by the able speech of my hon. friend, who sits opposite to me (Mr. Ward). I have argued the question without violence, without asperity, and without taking advantage of the obvious but important topic of the differences of opinion, which exist amongst the reformers themselves. If a plan of this description should be adopted, and the great consequences which are predicted should result from it; if it should be productive of a new and better order of things, of peace, happiness, and prosperity, I certainly shall have no claim to any share of the gratitude which must attend upon those, whose counsels have led to so-blessed a consummation; but, on the other hand, if a contrary event should take place, I shall not be subject to the reproach and indignation which must flow from hopes inordinately raised and then of necessity lamentably disappointed. If this House, as at present constituted, is to be done away, and another form of representation substituted in its place, I hope that assembly will discharge its duty to its country better than its predecessor. I own, I think it will have a hard task to perform—I think it will have a disadvantageous comparison to undergo; an hundred years of justice and good faith, of security in peace and energy in war, is a spectacle not easily to be paralleled in the history of the world. It is impossible before hand to judge with certainty what will be the effect of the adoption of any measure. It is, however, a great maxim in politics sanctioned by the highest authority of antiquity, that forms of government are often destroyed and changed into those which are most opposite to them, by measures which wear the appearance of favouring, extending and confirming the fundamental principles of such government. Oligarchies have been overthrown by the attempt to render them more oligarchical, and laws of the most democratical tendency have produced the utter and immediate ruin of democracies. This is an important principle, and worthy of serious consideration at the present moment. It is founded in the great moral truth, that excess always produces the very evil it intends to shun. My opinion is, that the real consequence of adopting any measure, such as is proposed, will be, to impair and diminish the strength and weight of the popular branch of our constitution.

Mr. Tierney

said, he should not have risen to trouble the House at that late hour, or indeed at all, had it not been for the many allusions made that evening to him by the hon. member opposite as the author of all the mischief attendant on the proposition for reform on a former occasion; but having been referred to by his hon. friend (Mr. Ward) in so pointed a manner, he could not avoid throwing himself on the indulgence of the House for a few minutes. He had often heard this question discussed, and at an early period of life had made known his sentiments respecting it; and these he might say had never essentially varied down to the present time. He had come to the House intending to give a silent vote in favour of a motion which pledged the House to no plan, and only required that the subject should be investigated and the principle recognized. Having when young supported the cause, he was now happy, at an advanced period of life, to be found in the rank where he had first enlisted. No man could look back five and twenty years without perceiving that his feelings and opinions had undergone some alteration. He must have been a wise man, indeed, who could say with truth, that he foresaw all the events that had within that period occurred, and had been prepared for the consequences. Four and twenty years had elapsed since the date of the petition, to which reference had been made; but without having recently read more of it than parts he had seen extracted, he could venture to say that he still concurred in it in the main— he might, perhaps, even go as far as to declare, that he abided by it in the whole. Without vanity he might say, that he thought highly of that petition, because, in point of fact, it was not his production as had been supposed: it was the work of a Committee, of which, it was true, he had been one of the most active members: it was a compound of the talents and knowledge of a number of individuals; and in this respect, though in no other, it bore a strong resemblance to the speech of the hon. gentleman which, from the style of its eloquence and the nature of its arguments, betrayed its origin to be in a sort of committee, formed of the leading members on the ministerial bench. With all due deference, however, to the quarter by which it was dictated, he must say, that it contained but little sound reasoning; and, however capital and flowery the language, the substance might be compressed into a very few sentences.

In 1793, as at the present moment, the same set phrases were used, of "let well alone," and "things are just as they should be:" and it was thought that the best mode of beginning a reform was to point out the irregularities (to call them by no harder name) that had crept into the representation, to show that the people were not fairly represented: for how could they be fairly represented, when it was undeniable, that the majority of the House was returned by an insignificant minority of the people of England? He could state positively from recollection, that greater pains could not have been taken to state the facts correctly in the petition, than had been taken on that occasion, notwithstanding the hon. gentleman who spoke last, had objected to some parts of it. He had, in the first place, asserted, that the variety of rights of voting was a great benefit; but the petition did not complain that different interests, landed or mercantile, were represented, but that the numerous distinctions and modifications in the right of voting had been the occasion of great confusion and litigation. Another direct attack upon the petition was, that it complained that noblemen used their influence at elections; and the hon. gentleman had asked, if it would not be monstrous to abolish that honourable influence which was obtained by the good conduct and good offices of a nobleman towards the electors of his neighbourhood? Upon this point the petition might answer for itself, for it contained this sentence—"Your petitioners entreat your honourable House to believe, that in complaining of this species of influence, it is not their intention or desire to decry or to condemn that just and natural attachment which they who are enabled by their fortune, and inclined by their disposition, to apply great means to honourable and benevolent ends, will always ensure to themselves." It was clear, therefore, that this last complaint was unfounded, and the hon. member needed not thus to have gone out of his way gratuitously to cast imputations.

Those who resisted the motion, and particularly the hon. member over the way (Mr. Ward), had maintained, that all things were in so happy a state, that it was impossible to improve them; not a tittle could be altered for the better—time had made no inroads that required repair; the constitution was at present, and always would continue to be, an imperishable model of perfection for the world to won- der at; and the representation of Old Sarum was just as good as that of the county of York [Hear, hear!]. This was certainly all very pleasant, and came most appropriately from an hon. gentleman who, having been kicked out of the county of Worcester, had slipped into a close borough, and had there taken shelter from his pursuers. Whether that part of his speech had been dictated by the ministerial committee to which he had before alluded, was not so clear: it did not appear very consistent with the conduct of a right hon. gentleman, who, no doubt, was a member of it, and who, having long sat for a close borough, had abandoned it at last, and successfully stood a candidate for the populous town of Liverpool. At least one of the ministers, therefore, could be no very strong friend to the corrupted system. Would he not, on the contrary, avow, that he now felt he stood higher in the rank of representatives than when he occupied a seat for a paltry borough of a few servile electors?

The hon. member who spoke last had produced an act of William and Mary, the object of which was to prevent the warden of the Cinque-ports from nominating seven members as he had done; yet he was a warm advocate for things as they are; and had he lived in the days when that measure was brought forward, would he not have denounced it as an innovation— as an infringement upon the rights of one of the most ancient offices known to the country, and an encroachment upon the revered and hallowed constitution, as by law established? Yet was it not notorious, that the very abuse that act was intended to remedy at this moment existed in a degree as flagrant as ever? Such, however, was the fact, and if this were admitted,— (it could not be disproved,) he would ask if it was not the duty of that House to have recourse to new measures, in order to enforce that act which they had already passed, to do away one of the abuses of which the people complained, and which was now so grossly evaded? If the committee were appointed, he would undertake to prove that the lord warden of the Cinque-ports still procured the return of seven representatives. The House had heard of nothing but rights in the course of the debate; the rights of members of parliament, the rights of close boroughs, and the rights of those who were in the possession of the good things of this world, to keep them as long as they could: in short, every sort of rights had been talked about, but the most important of all—the right to amend.—His hon. friend objected, that certain places would be shut up by which men of talent could be introduced into the House. But great talents, forsooth, had made their debut in rotten boroughs, and this was to be carried to the creditor account in their favour; on this ground rotten boroughs were to be defended. Another class of objection was directed against boroughs and to the alteration of which no reasonable objection could be made. He alluded to those boroughs, the voters of which consisted of from seventy or eighty persons up to a hundred and fifty or two hundred. They sent to the Treasury what were called blank burgesses, and were chiefly in the hands of mercenary attornies, who merely sought to make money by their traffic in them. When a member was to be brought into parliament, they never inquired whether he was a man of talent and ability, likely to be an ornament to that House and a benefit to the public: all they asked was, who was his banker? They did not care about his being a young and promising man; on the contrary, they would rather have him decrepid and old, because then there was a chance of his dying and of their having an opportunity of bargaining for another.

Would any one presume to say that much good might not be effected by a change in that part of the system? What he wanted was, something that might remove the strong objections which existed against the present mode of returning members to that House. He had no hesitation in saying, that he had altered his opinion, in one respect, with regard to the question of parliamentary reform. He did not now think, that it would be desirable to recommend any sudden and sweeping alteration. The experiment, he was convinced, would be too dangerous, especially at the present moment. But great and salutary ameliorations might be made from time to time, if the House would only agree to go into a committee for the purpose of inquiring into the matter. Even his hon. friend ought to agree in the motion for a committee, because he had a proposition to make, which deserved attention. His hon. friend said, that he should have no objection to extend the right of voting to copyholders as well as freeholders. Let him bring forward that proposition in a committee, and it should have his support, if he happened to have the honour of being a member of the committee. In the same manner, many other hon. members, might have alterations which if suggested, it would be judicious to adopt. With respect to what were called close boroughs and towns, it would be very possible so to enlarge the right of voting, as to make that a real election, which was now only nominal, with the additional advantage, that candidates would not have to expend 20 or 30,000l. in order to obtain a seat. He had himself, on many occasions, brought under the consideration of the House, the heavy charges incurred in obtaining out-voters. Would there be any difficulty in so qualifying the exercise of that privilege as to make it less onerous to the candidate? He had had a bill scouted out of the House that he had brought in on this subject, having always thought, as he still continued to think, that the only recommendation of a candidate ought not to be the length of his purse.

There was another point of great importance, namely, the duration of parliaments. He did not mean to go into any elaborate inquiry about what was the practice of our remote ancestors, nor to ascertain how those things were managed by the Picts, the Danes, or the Anglo-Saxons. He owned he was deficient in research for such matters, and should not argue, therefore, whether it would be an innovation or a restoration. All he wanted was, honestly and conscientiously to endeavour to adapt the change of representation to the times in which we lived. If he saw the monied interest acquiring too great an ascendancy; if he saw the country gentleman, whose family had resided, perhaps for ages, in a particular borough or town, outbid by some opulent adventurer, who had grown wealthy by a lucky speculation in the stocks, or an opportune contract for government, he was justified in wishing that a check should be put to that ascendancy. And where was the danger that could truly be apprehended from shortening the duration of parliaments? Had any one attempted to answer the assertion of his hon. and learned friend, an assertion, the truth of which every day's experience confirmed, that the members of that House were sure to conduct themselves with some respect towards their constituents, when they knew that the day of reckoning with them was near at hand? Would any one venture to say, if it were morally certain, the present parliament was to be dissolved in the course of the present year, more would not vote that night in favour of parliamentary reform, than would probably be found to vote for it? The influence, then, which a shorter duration of parliament would have over the conduct of ministers would be a beneficial one; because it would make them anxious to preserve and merit the esteem and confidence of their constituents. It was indubitably true, that they had fallen greatly in the confidence of the country. "Aye, but" said his hon. friend, "only reflect upon the glorious issue of the war, and the splendid consequences of that policy which had been pursued for the last five and twenty years! All that was to be attributed to the House of Commons, which, by granting the means for carrying on the war, was, in fact, the real cause of its wonderful and triumphant termination. And yet you would quarrel with such a House of Commons, and wish to have it altered!" Why, to be sure, that was a very ingenious and fascinating way of putting the argument. But suppose Buonaparté, during his career of glory (which was no very short one), had taken the other side of it. Suppose he had said to the French nation: I will give to you the name and outward form of a representative system; you shall have the shadow, but not the substance; you shall enjoy the symbol, but not the reality; and suppose he had then added, when at the height of his dominion and authority, there —you see what mighty effects you have produced: it is to you I owe all my glories; it is to you I am indebted for this conquest and subjugation of Europe, though you know you could not say nor do any thing but what I bade you. That was precisely the logic of the hon. gentleman, who endeavoured to show that our successes in the late contest were attributable to the free and independent functions of a House of Commons, which had always been, and notoriously continued to be, under the direction of ministers. The fact was, however, and he was ready to prove it, that they might have carried on the war, if they had been in due awe of the people, at one-half of the expense. Night after night he had sat there, and endeavoured to impress this truth upon them, when million after million was voted away to be sent out of the country, to put down atheism, and he knew not what. He had blamed the la- vish expenditure which had thus been sanctioned, but he had opposed it in vain. Now, however, the country began to feel the effects of such improvidence, and was it wonderful that the people looked towards them as the authors of their sufferings and distresses? It was not the king, it was not the other House of parliament, that could justly be reproached. They (the House of Commons) were the guardians of the public purse, and if they had refused to open its strings, such calamitous consequences could not have ensued. In one part of England, the inhabitants had nothing to eat; in another, they had no work; go to a third, and there were no rents to receive. Did not these things clearly prove that there was something "rotten in the state of Denmark?" And if so, ought not the part which was rotten to be probed and a remedy applied? He wished for no vague and dangerous innovations. He was a determined enemy—as determined an enemy as any in that House—to Annual Parliaments and Universal suffrage. But did it follow, because those theories were not proper to be adopted, that nothing could be done to satisfy the people, by improving the representation? Did it follow, if they went into a committee that they must do harm, and could not do any good? Would it be no satisfaction, to a distressed and suffering country, to see the legislature at least anxious and willing to take its grievances into consideration? Would it be no consolation, if they saw the House of Commons seriously and earnestly disposed to investigate the causes of their complaints, and willing to apply whatever remedy they were susceptible of receiving?

He entreated the House not to be alarmed by any bugbears about a reform which would endanger the constitution. He Would venture to say they would not find any committee of twenty-one members, who would agree to report upon the expediency and necessity of annual parliaments, or universal suffrage. But they would find many twenty-ones ready and willing to propose some alteration in the present system. To the great admirer of Mr. Pitt he would reply, that he had studied reform under Mr. Pitt's auspices also; and it was worthy of remark, that although he had changed his mind, yet in the Irish parliament he had left the model of a House of Representatives such as it ought to be in his mind. Mr. Pitt, at the time of the Irish union had, what few reformers ever had, an opportunity of acting largely and wisely upon his own notions. There was a parliament to be destroyed and a parliament to be created. The old parliament, too, of Ireland, was reproached with many of those uncerimonious epithets about corruption, selling of seats, &c. which were applied to the parliament of Great Britain, but which he would not be so uncivil as to repeat. What did Mr. Pitt do? He provided, that out of the hundred members to be returned by Ireland, two-thirds, he believed he spoke correctly [a member near Mr. Tierney said 64], should be county members. The remainder to be close boroughs, and those including Cork and Dublin, and some other cities and towns, which were any thing but close. Was that no guide for them? Was that no polar star by which they might steer their course. Could they not do something of the same kind? Could they not destroy the close boroughs and towns, at least, and throw the votes open to the population of such places, which would be one great step towards attaining an efficient representation? All he contended for was, such a state of the representation, taken as a whole, as would prevent the county members, the country gentlemen of England, from forming a minority in the House, which they did at present. His hon. friend opposite had begged he would forgive some observations that had dropped from him. He could assure his hon. friend that he was of a very placable disposition. His hon. friend once sat on that side of the House, and said many hard things against the other; if his new friends would as easily forgive him for his past offences to them, as he (Mr. T.) pardoned him whatever he had said that night, it would be all very well.

He had thus expressed his opinion upon the subject then before the House. When he rose, he promised them that he would not long occupy their attention, and he should conclude with adverting to only one more point. It had been the fate of Parliamentary Reform to suffer deeply from the madness and insolence of the advocates who had lately espoused it. They foolishly and presumptuously imagined that they could carry that great question exclusively of all persons of rank and influence in the country. This doctrine had been inculcated at public meetings by an individual, who though he had attacked the whigs, now found that without them he could do nothing. Certain he was, that such conduct on the part of the advocates for parliamentary reform, had done more to injure the cause than all the arguments of its avowed enemies. He hoped their eyes were now open to the mischief they had done, and that conduct like that which he had noticed would not be persevered in, or recurred to.

Lord Milton

rose amid cries of question, and said, that he had heard nothing which had shaken his opinion on this subject.— There was no sufficient case made out against the present state of the representation in parliament; and till he was convinced, he should not vote for any alteration.

The House then divided:

Ayes	77
Noes	265
Majority against the Motion—188

While strangers were excluded,

Mr. Brougham

(who had not been in his place during the debate) rose, under evident marks of illness, and shortly addressed the House, to express his zealous and cordial approbation of the motion, and his regret that he had been prevented from stating his opinion more in detail, by an indisposition, in consequence of which he had applied to have the question put off for a day; an arrangement which had been prevented by an accident. He stated, that he was the more anxious to mention the grounds on which he supported the motion because he went a considerable way farther than some of his hon. friends (sir S. Romilly and Mr. Tierney), in his views of reform; and because he stood pledged to state those views explicitly. He added, that he was anxious to see the question again brought forward in any shape which should give him the opportunity he desired;—and in the mean time he should only state, which he did most conscientiously, his unalterable adherence to his former sentiments upon this important question.

Mr. Plunkett

expressed much regret at having to differ from those friends with whom he generally acted; but were he to vote for sending these petitions to a committee, he should give countenance to a proposition which he denied, namely, that the distresses complained of originated in the defects of the representation. He was by no means, however, prepared to reject all plans of reform that might be proposed; and he declared his readiness to discuss those measures in detail, to which several members had referred.

List of the Minority.
Atherley, Arthur	Martin, J.
Aubrey, sir John	Matthew, hon. M.
Baillie, J. E.	Moore, Peter
Barclay, Charles	Neville, hon. R.
Barnett, James	Newman, R. W.
Bennett, hon. G H.	North, D.
Birch, Jos.	Ossulston, lord
Boughey, sir J. F.	Parnell, sir H.
Brand, hon. T.	Peirse, Henry
Brougham, Henry	Philips, G.
Burroughs, sir Wm.	Prittic, hon. F. A.
Browne, Dom.	Rancliffe, lord
Butterworth, Jos.	Rashleigh, Wm.
Byng, Geo.	Ridley, sir M. W.
Calcraft, John	Romilly, sir S.
Calvert, Charles	Rowley, sir W.
Calvert. Nic.	Scudamore, R. P.
Carter, John	Sebright, sir J.
Cochrane, lord	Sefton, earl of
Curwen, J. C.	Sharp, Richard
Dundas, Chas.	Smith, J.
Dundas, hon. L.	Smyth, J. H.
Ebrington, visc.	Spiers, Arch.
Fellowes, hon. N.	Stanley, lord
Fergusson, sir R. C.	Talbot, R. W.
Fitzgerald, rt. hon. M.	Tavistock, marquis of
Gaskell, B.	Teed, John
Gordon, Robert	Tierney, rt. hon. G.
Grattan, rt. hon. H.	Waldegrave, hon. W.
Guise, sir W. B.	Webb, E.
Hamilton, lord A.	Webster, sir G.
Heathcote, sir G.	Wharton, John
Heron, sir R.	TELLERS.
Hornby, E.	Burdett, sir F.
Howorth, H.	Smith, Wm.
Hughes, W. L.	PAIRED OFF.
Jervoise, J. P.	Martin, Henry
Lambton, J. G.	Monck, sir C.
Langton, W. Gore	Mackintosh, sir J.
Latouche, Robert	Newport, sir J.
Leader, Wm.	Osborne, lord F.
Lefevre, C. S.	Plumer, Wm.
Lemon, sir Wm.	Piggott, sir A.
Lyttelton, hon. W. H.	Symonds T. P.
Madocks, W. A.	Western, C. C.

Mr. Ponsonby was absent from indisposition.