NEGOTIATIONS RELATIVE TO SPAIN.

HL Deb 24 April 1823 vol 8 cc1175-253

The order of the day for summoning their lordships being read,

Lord Ellenborough

rose to make his promised motion. Sensible as he was of the great importance of the subject to which he was about to call the attention of their lordships, and labouring under very considerable anxiety as to the manner in which he should perform the duty he had imposed on himself, it was not, he said, without embarrassment that he rose to address them. He confessed, however, that it was with much satisfaction he now saw this great question regularly submitted to the deliberation of the House; and since their lordships' attention was at length to be distinctly drawn to the situation of Europe, and to the examination of the conduct of his majesty's ministers in the late negotiations, all personal considerations as to the difficulty of the task were lost in his sense of the necessity and utility of the inquiry. He was, too, relieved from much of his anxiety, when he recollected that whatever points he might fail sufficiently to enforce, or might omit to notice, would not be overlooked by those noble lords who might fellow him. Painful as it was to him, under all tile circumstances, to make a statement that would cast blame on the conduct of his majesty's ministers, that pain was greatly increased, when he found the noble duke opposite implicated in transactions which his duty would oblige him to condemn. It had been his wish, as it doubtless was the wish of every man in the country, that the great name of the noble duke might descend to posterity pure and unblemished, and it was with infinite regret he felt that it would be impossible for him to perform his duty on the present occasion, without bringing into question the conduct of that noble duke with respect to the negotiations he had lately conducted; but he begged leave to observe, that no consideration of what had occurred in recent instances, would diminish his sense of the gratitude which he felt to be due to the noble duke for his former great and eminent services. It was not, however, consistent with the practice of a free state, or sound policy, under any system, to balance present errors in conduct by past services. The latter were not to be made an excuse for the former. Let ministerial errors, from whatever soured they might spring or by whomsoever committed, be made the subject of inquiry, and let them be censured as they deserved. He knew of no principle which was of more importance than this in a free country; especially when the subject of inquiry was, the conduct of a great and. successful general. In such a case nothing was more to be deprecated than a system of forbearance.

Having said this much, he would proceed to the subject immediately before the House. Their lordships would recollect, that in the discussions which took place in 1821, on the subject of the Neapolitan revolution, it appeared that not only his majesty's ministers but the allied powers regarded the case of Naples as different from that of Spain. The noble earl opposite (Liverpool) then said, that the Spanish revolution had been provoked. This acknowledgment was distinctly made by the noble earl; but as, perhaps, some of the noble earl's colleagues did not, like him, entertain liberal sentiments on the subject of the Spanish revolution, and as, perhaps, some noble lords in that House might view that revolution in the same light as they did the Neapolitan, he thought it right to recapitulate some circumstances connected with the Spanish revolution, which ought never to be lost sight of in considering that subject. In judging that revolution, he entreated their lordships to recollect its principle and origin. With that recollection in their minds, they could not fail to acknowledge the justice of the distinction the noble earl opposite had made, and which also appeared to be made at that time by the administration generally; for one of the earliest ministerial papers on the subject was a despatch, written by lord Londonderry, containing arguments calculated to dissuade the allies from interfering with Spain. When king Ferdinand returned to Spain in 1814, and proceeded by violence to destroy that constitution which had been established in his absence, he, in the first instance, succeeded, without experiencing any resistance, but not without making a declaration that he would call a cortes, and more especially pledging himself to two things; namely, the establishment of a limited liberty of the press, and the consent of the cortes with the sovereign to, the levying of taxes. He soon, however, violated these promises. The first measure of his govern- ment was, to throw into prison all the men who had most distinguished themselves by their attachment to the cause of liberty, and their zeal in the defence of the country. He ordered criminal prosecutions to be instituted against them, and subjected them to cruel judgments. In 1815, when thirty two of these worthy men still remained untried, he expressed his dissatisfaction with the tribunal to which they had been referred. He ordered the tribunal to hasten the proceedings, and to inflict condign punishment. The answer made by the tribunal was, that the parties did not appear to be guilty of any crime. He then referred the cases to another tribunal, the judges of which also answered, that they could find nothing to blame in the conduct of the individuals accused. Thus disappointed in procuring a legal judgment against the objects of his vengeance, he, of his own authority, sentenced them to different prisons, and inflicted on them various other punishments. The more distinguished these unfortunate men had been by their talents and their services to the country, the more severe were their sentences. Arguelles was condemned to serve as a private soldier in one of the presidos of Africa; and Herrera, who had been minister of Grace and Justice, was adjudged to 18 years' imprisonment in chains, in Majorca. These were acts which fully justified what the noble earl had stated, namely, that the Spanish revolution was provoked. Now, what had been the early conduct of the allied sovereigns with regard to the change which had taken place in Spain? He had already alluded to the paper drawn up by the late lord Londonderry which contained arguments against any interference on the part of the allied powers. The sovereigns met in congress in December, 1820, and it then appeared that the events of the 8th of March were not overlooked by them, but were placed in the foreground of their deliberations, and regarded as circumstances of alarm. In the speech of the king of Spain to the cortes in that year, he alluded to the alarm which the events of the Peninsula appeared to have excited, and stated, that he had desired explanations on the subject, in consequence of which the allied sovereigns had disclaimed all intention of interfering with Spain. In the answer which the president made, he stated that the allied sovereigns had recognized the legitimacy of the Spanish revolution. It appeared that the king of Spain had complained of want of respect to his government, and that this corn, plaint had given occasion to the explanation and recognition referred to. The same disposition had been manifested after the attack on Naples. It was then again declared, that the allied sovereigns disclaimed all interference with Spain. Thus, whatever dislike might have been shown to the Spanish constitution, no intention to interfere was ever expressed, otherwise than by the operation or opinion or by negotiation. The papers which had been presented to parliament contained no indication of hostile interference. It appeared that from April, 1820, to September, 1822, the object of preventing interference had been attained, either by the general conduct of the foreign secretary, or by the influence of his personal character. This at least was certain—that as long as the late lord Londonderry lived, no idea was started of hostile interference with Spain. What were their lordships now to think of the allied sovereigns, when they reflected on the conduct of those sovereigns in 1821, and their declarations disclaiming all intention of interference? Looking back to their declarations at the time of their attack on Naples, could the least confidence be placed in any of their professions? Was it not evident, that these absolute sovereigns of the continent were determined, whenever an opportunity offered, to strike down liberty, wherever it was to be found? Having put down liberty in Naples and in Piedmont, if they succeeded in destroying it in Spain, what would be their next object? Could their lordships doubt, that what semblance or liberty there might exist in France or Germany would soon be extinguished, and that then these monarchs would turn their attention to that parliament which they regarded as the source of all their alarms, and that freedom of the press which happily subsisted in this country, but which, in their opinion, was a standing pestilence? It was, then, indispensable in considering the present subject, that their lordships should constantly bear in, mind, that from the year 1814 to the present time, these sovereigns had lost no opportunity of strengthening absolute power, either in their own or in other states. The principles of liberty and, despotism were placed in a hostile position, and it was impossible but that such a conflict must cause disquietude and convulsion in society.

Coming now to the late negotiation, about the 24th of September the noble duke opposite had learned that the affairs of Spain were to be made a prominent topic of deliberation at the congress. About the same time, too, the cordon sanitaire changed its name, and became an "Army of Observation." His majesty's ministers had then to choose the course they were to take. Then was the time for them to have cone to a decisive resolution. They could not then misunderstand the state of the question; and, indeed, however much the noble duke might have been deceived, Mr. Canning was doubtless convinced that war between France and Spain had become inevitable. Ministers had then to take into their serious consideration all the danger with which this country and Europe was threatened, by the hostile operations of France against Spain. They had to contemplate France in the possession of the ports of Spain, undermining the sources of our maritime power, menacing Ireland, and injuring all the best interests of this country. They had, moreover to view her on the frontier of Portugal, threatening our antient ally. Such was the prospect, if France were successful. But suppose another case. Let it be supposed that she failed to accomplish her nefarious purpose. Would there be no danger to France and to Europe from the re-action which defeat would occasion? On the contrary, if France were perfectly successful, then all that balance of power which it was pretended had been so well adjusted in 1814 was overthrown. These were some of the important considerations to which ministers were imperiously called upon to attend, as soon as they were aware of the designs of the allied sovereigns and France. But, important as these considerations were, they appeared to have occupied the attention of ministers only for three short days; for on the 27th of September, Mr. Canning wrote to the noble duke as follows:—"If there be a determined Project to interfere by force or by menace in the present struggle in Spain, so convinced are his majesty's government of the uselessness and danger of such an interference—so objectionable does it appear to them in principle as well as utterly Impracticable in execution, that when the necessity, arises, or (I would rather say) when the opportunity offers, I am to in- struct your grace at once frankly, and peremptorily to declare, that to any such interference, come what may, his majesty will"—do what?—oppose it with ail the force of the British empire? No—or his majesty will assume an attitude which will enable him to act according to circumstances—By no means—and what then least he will protest in the face of all Europe in the strongest terms against an aggression so notoriously unjust. No such, thing? Nor is his majesty made to go so far as even to deny the principle of this interference. It is stated, indeed, to be objectionable; but only on the ground of expediency. The objection to the principle seemed to be regarded as something between its uselessness and the difficulty of the execution, and it was finally declared, that "to any such interference, come what may, his majesty will not be a party!" Thus, while a nation to which we were bound by ties of interest and friendship was invaded—while our oldest and firmest ally was threatened—while that balance of power which it had cost us such immense sacrifices to restore, was in danger of being overthrown, "come what may" we were to stand with our arms folded, tame spectators of what was passing. All idea of the influence of the country was given up! Not even a word of discussion in objection to the principle on which France acted was offered. This strange conduct reminded him of a passage he had lately read in a play, where; in reference to an affair which had occasioned some difference between two individuals, one person asks, "What into be done?" To which another replied, "Oh; nothing, but there is a great deal to be said." Here, however, ministers seemed to think that there was not only nothing to be done, but very little to be said. [He came now to the letter written to Mr. Canning on the 22d of October. Under that date, the duke of Wellington communicated to Mr. Canning, that he had had an interview with the French minister, at which that minister had read the three questions; and on the 29th of the same month the noble duke wrote to Mr. Canning, expressing his intention of calling upon "France to explain herself, and then that they (the allies) should recommend to her, if peace is her object, as it must be that of the other powers, that she should ask for the good offices of one of her allies to explain to Spain her desire to remain at peace." But by the an- swer of the noble duke to the questions of the French plenipotentiary dated 30th October, it appears that no such demand of explanation from. France was made. Against the principle of interference put forth by France, one would have thought the noble duke would have protested in the first place; but, so far from that being placed in the foreground, an opinion was expressed, that "any amelioration which might be desired in the Spanish system, for the sake of Spain herself, ought to be sought for in measures to be adopted in Spain, rather than abroad, and particularly in the confidence which the people should be taught to feel in the character and measures of the king." Thus, instead of protesting against the principle, the system on which his majesty's ministers acted was put forward, and confidence in the character of the king recommended! It was not so easy a matter to make the Spanish nation entertain confidence in the character or measures of Ferdinand 7th. Our objection was not so much to the principle, as that we thought it inexpedient and dangerous, to France especially. It had been frequently said, that affection and confidence more frequently appeared in the conduct of those by whom benefits were conferred, than in that of those by whom benefits were received. This seemed to be the case with the noble duke, who seemed to believe it impossible that the king of France could entertain thoughts hostile to the state of Europe, and, appearing not to enter fully into Mr. Canning's sentiments, contented himself with declaring, that in case a war should break out, it was impossible for his majesty's ministers then to pronounce what advice they should consider it their duty to give to his majesty. The duke of Wellington (though not so imprudent in his admissions, as in the course of the discussion it would appear Mr. Canning had been) had made an admission to which he begged to call the attention of the House; for it was one of very great importance. The noble duke had admitted, that the civil war in Spain, justified the maintenance of the Army of Observation; and in his despatch of the 20th of November, he said, "The origin, circumstances, and consequences of the Spanish revolution—the existing state of affairs in Spain—and the conduct of those who have been at the head of the Spanish government, may have endangered the safety of other countries, and war have excited the uneasiness of the governments whose ministers I am now addressing. From this he did not know whether the noble duke meant to say, that the Spanish revolution had endangered other countries; but, at all events, it gave occasion to found hostile comments upon it.

Here ended the negotiations at Verona; and, with the exception of calling upon France to explain (which the noble duke never did), and one despatch from the foreign secretary, no efforts whatever had been made by ministers to preserve the peace of Europe. The duke of Wellington then left Verona for Paris, and on his arrival there, he found a letter from Mr. Canning, in which he was instructed to offer the mediation of this country to France; and it was to be observed that Mr. Canning said, that "in order to afford a prospect of success in our mediation, if France should be willing to employ it, there should be some reasonable hope of a similar acceptance on the part of Spain." Looking for a moment to the despatch of Mr. Canning to sir W. A'Court, of the 9th Dec., there would be found these words—"His majesty's mediation between France and Spain, if solicited by Spain and accepted by France, would be gladly given and earnestly exerted, to settle the disputes between those powers and to preserve the peace of the world. If Spain be disposed to solicit that mediation, she will entitle herself to it, first, by redressing our grievances." Now, recurring to the despatch of the 8th of November, from Mr. Canning to the duke of Wellington in that despatch he communicated his majesty's "entire approbation of his grace's conduct and language in respect to the affairs of Spain; and particularly of the determination not to promise the good offices of his majesty between that country and France, in any other case than that of a simple and specific request to that effect on the part of France, unaccompanied by 'any treaty or any declaration of the allies hostile to Spain?'" He entreated their lordships, to bear in their minds the words of Mr. Canning, that Spain must solicit our mediation and redress our grievances, though the noble earl (Liverpool) admitted a few nights ago, that those grievance were of a date as far back as 1808, and most of them originating in previous years, and that all the ordinary methods of negotiation had been exhausted, and had failed to pro- cure redress of those grievances; but Mr. Canning instructed sir W. A'Court to declare, that if redress was refused, we would do justice to ourselves; and this language was held after Mr. Canning had said that France must ask for our mediation. Their lordships must see, that be proposed our mediation to Spain, contrary to the principle he had himself laid down before. The proposal at such a time, made in such terms to a people tenacious even to stubbornness, and possessing high feelings of honour, was more calculated to provoke a war than any other course which could have been pursued. France, also, was to solicit our mediation, which she had not done; the allies, also, were to abstain from any declaration hostile to Spain, but from which they had not abstained. This mediation was, however, refused by France; but ministers still entertained hopes of peace being maintained—on what grounds, would be seen on referring to the latter part of the despatch of the duke of Montmorency to the duke of Wellington, dated the 26th December. The words were—"his most Christian majesty sees, however, with pleasure in this proposition, a new pledge of the conciliatory disposition of the English government; and he thinks that with such feelings, that government may render essential service to Europe by offering in the like manner to the government of Spain advice, which by leading them to entertain more calm views, might produce a happy influence on the internal situation of that country. His majesty would learn, with the liveliest satisfaction, the success of such efforts. He would see in it a firm ground to hope for the preservation of a peace, of the great value of which the governments and the people of Europe cannot but be deeply sensible." These were the words—no stronger—which, in the apprehension of Mr. Canning, appeared (though to no other person could they so appear) to leave open the way for an amicable termination of the dispute, though no specific declaration had, up to that moment, been made of what the specific alteration in the Spanish government was, which France required.

On the 27th of Dec., the letter of M. Villèle was published at Paris, and in that paper it was declared, that France would in no respect relax her preparations for war, while Spain continued to be torn by factions. France having made that declaration, and it being known to this country on the 5th of January, lord Fitzroy Somerset was sent to Madrid on the part of the duke of Wellington. Their lordships would observe, that in the despatch of M. de Montmorency, there was no assurance that France would be satisfied with any particular alteration in the Spanish government; and the minute of the duke of Wellington was so vaguely worded, that it was impossible the Spaniards could comply with his desires. It might be true, that the noble duke, like another Hannibal, had been bred in camps, and knew little of civil institutions; but giving him credit for that knowledge of the British constitution, which every individual, particularly of high station, must to a certain degree possess, it was most extraordinary he should use such language as this in his memorandum, "that the powers and prerogatives assigned to the king in the system, should be such as to enable him to perform his duties, and such as, in reason, a king ought to be satisfied with." What a king ought to be satisfied with, or would be satisfied with, it was, indeed, very difficult to ascertain, but it was clear that the duties of a king, under a constitution, must involve the powers and prerogatives to perform them, otherwise it would be a manifest absurdity. But the memorandum went on to say, that the king must be satisfied. But what king was it that was to be satisfied? The very king who had shown, by his previous conduct, that he would be satisfied with nothing short of despotic power. What, however, were the Spaniards called upon to do? To make certain alterations in their constitution, in which case it was observed, "the continuance of the Army of Observation would be an useless expense, and there is no doubt that it would be immediately withdrawn." The noble duke had in this shown as much ignorance of the Spanish constitution, as he had done of the constitution of his own country. The alterations required amounted to the destruction of the Spanish constitution, and the application was to be made to those persons who had taken oaths to maintain that very constitution. This application was, that they should violate their oaths, the constitution, and the laws; and these concessions were to be made to an enemy who demanded them at the point of the bayonet, in despite of every principle on which the security and happiness of nations de- pended. Fortunately, the Spaniards, more knowing in the principles of international law than the noble duke, determined to maintain their rights with a firmness which reflected on them the highest honour, and absolutely refused to take into consideration the question of any alterations in their constitution. Whatever might be the motive of those who had induced the noble duke to lend his name to such a negotiation, fortunately for Spain and for this country, that negotiation had absolutely failed.

But it was important to mark the time at which this request was urged upon Spain to make alterations in her constitution; because it would be found, that at the very period when Spain was called upon to make these alterations in her constitution, such was the attitude assumed by France, that Spain, in doing so, must have done it, to all appearance only at the hostile dictation of France. It appeared besides from the note of the duke de Montmorency, dated the 27th Dec., that France refused the mediation offered by this government, unless, in point of fact, Spain would make those very alterations in her constitution which were proposed in the memorandum of the duke of Wellington. Thus, Spain was called upon to do that which she could not do without admitting that very principle of interference which was contended against; because it could not be done under the circumstances of the negotiation, as it had then turned, but at the dictation of France as well as of the allied powers. It was of importance, however, to refer to the note of Mr. Canning to viscount Marcellus, dated the 10th January, asserting that "no objection was stated by the duke of Wellington, on the part of the king his master, to the precautionary measures of France, within her own frontier—measures which the right of self-defence plainly authorized, not only against the danger of contagious disease (in which they professedly originated, and to which, till the month of September, they were exclusively ascribed), but against those inconveniences which might possibly arise to France from civil contest in a country separated from France only by a conventional line of demarcation, against the moral infection of political intrigue." Mr. Canning seemed to be aware of the importance of the concession he was then making; for, immediately after, he stated, in a note to sir W. A'Court, that the Army of Observation was likely to present the greatest difficulty in the way of mediation. In a subsequent despatch to sir W. A'Court, dated January 11, Mr. Canning used the following words:—"Till France shall withdraw her Army of Observation, there is no security against such hazards. France cannot withdraw her army (it is fair to admit) without some cause to assign for doing so. The only cause to be assigned must be some satisfactory assurances received from Spain." According to this principle, even the termination of civil war in Spain would not enable France to withdraw her army; in fact, it would furnish her with a pretest at all times to keep a force on the frontiers, not only while Spain might continue disturbed and divided, but while the Spanish constitution lasted. This admission which we had made, thus justified and suggested to France the keeping up the Army of Observation after the Army of the Faith had been defeated; and the moment that Mr. Canning made this admission, was precisely that moment when all the motives alleged by the duke of Wellington had ceased. That this was not thought lightly of by the successful negotiator, M. Chateaubriand appeared by his despatch of the 23rd Jan., where he had immediately seized it. The words were—"The very note to which the undersigned has now the honour to reply, confirms all that he here advances, in citing the following expressions of the noble duke:—'The duke of Wellington made no objection in the name of the king his master, to the precautionary measures taken by France on her own frontiers, whilst these measures were evidently authorized by the right of defending herself, not only against the dangers of infectious disease, but also against the moral contagion of political intrigue; and finally against the violation of the French territory by casual military incursions.' This admission is remarkable, and, besides, did not Piedmont and the kingdom of the Two Sicilies rise in the name of the cortes? and is any other proof required that the Spanish revolution may pass the limits of the Pyrenees? France, then, has the right to defend herself against moral contagion." The duke of Wellington had not made use of these words, but Mr. Canning had put them in his mouth, and M. Chateaubriand felt that every thing was conceded to him by that admission; for, when an army of observation might be formed to exclude moral contagion, and then difficulties and disputes arose to which war alone could put an end, every thing was here conceded, and the same circumstances, might be again created with respect to Portugal, from which a great nation could not escape without going to war; so that the whole case of France might now rest and be justified on the admission made by Mr. Canning. While the attempt to mediate in order to induce Spain to alter her constitution was going On, sir C. Stuart wrote to Mr. Canning on the 23rd of January, that the French government had told him, that "without questioning the sincerity of his majesty's government to maintain peace, he was convinced that it was impossible seriously to, press the subject on the Spanish government in sufficient time to lead to the result we desire." It concluded with stating, that "the language of the French ministers showed that they would be glad to avail themselves of the publication of an amnesty, accompanied by any change, however trifling, if brought about by the authority of the king of Spain, which might enable them to avoid a declaration of war." And on the same 23rd of January, a letter was written by M. de Chateaubriand to Mr. Canning, which was almost as warlike as the speech of the king of France, and aimed at establishing the same principles as those contained in that speech; namely, the absolute concession of the whole of the Spanish constitution, and that every alteration should emanate from the king. On the 26th of January, previously to the receipt of this letter, Mr. Canning had written to sir W. A'Court no longer to intrigue in the name of the duke of Wellington, but in his own name, and animadverted very freely on the state of things in Spain. On the 27th the despatch of M. de Chateaubriand was received. Then, for the first time, Mr. Canning began to perceive he had got into a difficulty. Parliament being about to meet, it was thought expedient to have something like a case to lay before them, and then, for the first time, on the 28th of January, there was a denial of the principle of foreign governments interfering in the internal concerns of other countries; and then it was not a formal protest, but put in a confidential letter to our minister at Paris. Surely the noble earl opposite did not allude to this whew, he told the House of the protest which had been made against that principle. Although the French had stated that they would be satisfied with nothing but absolute concession, Mr. Canning still wrote to sir C. Stuart, but not as he ought to have done, revoking his former instructions. It was in that despatch of the 28th January that he made the admission—never made before by an English minister—that it was for the sake, and at the desire of France, that we were intriguing to obtain from the Spanish nation similar terms to those which France had demanded as the alternative of peace or war. On the 28th January sir C. Stuart communicated to Mr. Canning, that he had had a conversation with M. de Chateaubriand, in which he declared that the king of France must use strong language in his speech to the chambers. With these despatches of sir C. Stuart and M. de Chateaubriand before him, and the speech of the king delivered to the chambers, Mr. Canning told M. de Chateaubriand, that the speech of the king of France was open to two interpretations. M. de Chateaubriand snatched at it directly, and in his reply—contrary to his conversation and conduct—took that interpretation which Mr. Canning desired. If any proof were wanting of the determination of France, their lordships might look to the note which count Lagarde read to the king of Spain, which it appeared, by the way, was not properly reported by sir W. A'Court, though doubtless that arose from imperfect recollection. All the letters showed, that France all along desired the abandonment of the constitution, and a total and unconditional surrender of the liberties of Spain, which were to be placed at the absolute disposal of the sovereign; and then again might be re-established, with renewed vigour, the family compact. M. de Chateaubriand desired that the negotiations, through the medium of England, should go on; for he saw clearly that it could only be advantageous to France, by confusing men's minds, and thus paralyzing the exertions of the Spanish people. At length, on the 10th of February, he told sir C. Stuart, that the establishment of a second chamber by Spain would be sufficient to induce France to discontinue her preparations; but in a subsequent communication (his preparations being more advanced) he said, that if the ministers were changed, that would be a ground of negotiation. It was not till the 19th of February that the specific terms on which the French government would treat were communicated to sir W. A'Court, who, if he had to negociate, must have done so in ignorance of that important point. At length, on the 31st March, Mr. Canning wrote to sir C. Stuart a despatch, which, though addressed to that minister, was intended, like the letter of the 28th of January, to make out a case for parliament.

The negotiations being thus terminated, the consequence was, a war between France and Spain, to which his majesty's ministers themselves had confessed that no human foresight could calculate the consequences. Could their lordships think that his majesty's ministers had done all that they ought to have done? Had the honour of this country been properly supported? Was it consistent with its honour to enter into a negotiation at the desire of France? Was it honourable to induce men to break oaths, and to destroy every principle of liberty and international law? Was it for the interest of this country that France should make this war on Spain—a war standing single and alone, covered with all the infamy of the aggression on Poland added to the infamy resulting from the principles on which, and the circumstances under which, it was undertaken by the French king. Would our interests be promoted by France having possession of the ports of Spain? Would our interests be promoted by an army of observation being placed—as, from the admission of Mr. Canning, it might be, on the frontiers of Portugal? Was it for our advantage, when all the absolute sovereigns of Europe were acting against the cause of freedom, that we, enfeebled by the exertions which we had made in the cause of those sovereigns, should now be called upon to suffer an aggression, which would not have been suffered in any former times of our history, and which not have been even proposed in any days but these? Was it for our interest that a defeated army should spread through France revolutionary principles, bound as we were to the Bourbons? Was it for our interest that France should be placed at liberty to march an army from her frontiers, to smother every ember of liberty in Germany and Italy? With the papers before them, would not their lordships say, that his which they ought not to have done? And was it con- sistent with the honour of their lordships not to declare that opinion which they must entertain? Was it possible to attach any credit to the assertion of France, that she had no ambitious motives in entering on the war? Let the House consider all the intrigues at Verona—all the deceptions practised on his majesty's ministers, willing to be deceived—all the false pretences urged at the commencement of a war hostile to the true principles of liberty and the law of nations. Their lordships would remember, that M. de Montmorency had said, that there was no specific interest in the question on which to mediate—that it was a question of principle alone. M. de Chateaubriand had also said the same thing. On referring to the despatch sent to Portugal, it would be seen, that he declared, that French government did not make war "to support political theories." But what did he say to England? Why, that it was "impossible to negociate on political theories:" thus adducing one circumstance to England as the cause of war, and denying it in the communication with Portugal, Under these circumstances he asserted, that it was impossible to place any reliance upon the declarations of the French ministers. Let their lordships consider what was the conduct of France with respect to the alleged origin of the war. The attempt at counter-revolution, of the 7th of July, and its consequences, were urged as a ground for hostile preparations. The intrigues of France created that event; and yet she afterwards urged it as a reason why she should keep an army of observation on the Spanish frontier. But the insincerity of the French government was still more strongly manifested in this—that while they were carrying on negotiations with an apparent view of preserving peace, they sent out orders to the West Indies, for an attack by their ships on Spanish vessels. Let their lordships look at the conduct of the French government throughout the whole of the proceedings, and they would find, that no reliance could be placed upon their sincerity. What dependence could be placed upon men who, while they were talking of peace here, and affecting a wish for its continuance, were still planning war in another quarter? No reliance, then, could be placed in the good faith of France; and it might be rather a question, not whether peace was to be dependent upon her wishes, but whether she might not extend the principle of interference to other countries besides Spain. One opinion, and only one, could, he thought, be formed on the conduct of the government of this country though out the whole of those transactions, which were without parallel in the history of diplomatic negotiations. Seeing that the line of policy which his majesty's ministers had' adopted had failed—seeing that it could have no other termination—he thought it must be conceded, that a More prompt and decided conduct on our part, would have had a very different effect. That promptness and decision had, unfortunately, been wanting. The address with which he should conclude would not call upon their lordships for a decision of the question of peace or war; for, considering the present state of France and of Europe, he did not think any decision on that question was required at this moment. It was his opinion, and that of many others, that stronger langunge—a more decisive tone—should have been used at, Verona; but that not having been done, it was now rather late in the Proceedings to take that position which should have been ours at first. He also would admit, that in a question of peace or war, very many important calculations, political and military, were to be considered, We were not, however, now called upon to decide that question; but he did think their lordships were called upon, in the honest discharge of their duty, to pronounce upon the line of policy which ministers had adopted. It would be necessary to go back several years into our history, before we could discover any similar conduct. It was as far back as the reign of Charles 2nd, that we could discover any similar truckling to France, or any such compromise of the honour of this country. It was impossible for him to conclude, without expressing an ardent wish, whatever might be the decision or their lordships upon the question of that evening, that the Spaniards might come victorious out of the just but arduous struggle in which they were engaged. Whatever might be their lordships' decision, he believed that the wish which she had expressed was the conclusion to which every honourable mind must come. The Spanish nation had entitled themselves to the respect and approbation of every man of liberal feeling in every country. The government of that country had, under circumstances of peculiar difficulty; hitherto conducted themselves with a moderation worthy the imitation of other states. In the note transmitted in answer to that of Russia, and under very trying circumstances the Spanish government had acted with great and praiseworthy forbearance. Struggling as they were for all that a people wishing to be free held dear—having at stake every thing associated with national independence—he did hope that their struggle would prove successful—that they would recollect what they had been in former times—the glorious efforts they had heretofore made in defence of their liberties—that theirs was a cause which could not be destroyed by the loss of a few towns, or even by the destruction of an army; for though armies might be destroyed, a nation was immortal. The liberty for which they were struggling was not to be considered merely in its tendency to increase the commercial wealth of a country. Liberty had other advantages. It raised and elevated the mind; it warmed the heart; it exalted man in the scale of society, making him capable of every thing that was noble and generous, rendering him prosperous and contented at home, and respected by surrounding nations. In conclusion, he would say, that if their lordships should be of opinion that we ought to truckle to that power, upon the neck of which we had so lately placed our foot—if they considered that we ought to submit to that monarch who had so recently been carried to his throne in the baggage of the British army—if their lordships were of this opinion, they would give the negative to his address, and then might posterity have mercy upon their names. If, however, they were earnest in their wish to support the struggles of a free people—if they desired to see the king of England, not in the train of the despots of Europe, but at the head of its free and constitutional states, they would carry this address to the foot of the throne. His lordship then moved—

"That an address be presented to his majesty, offering to his majesty our humble thanks for the communication his majesty has been graciously pleased to make to this House of certain papers relating to the late negotiations at Verona, Paris, and Madrid.

"To express our deep regret that the desire manifested by his majesty for the preservation or peace between France and Spain has proved ineffectual.

"At the same time to represent to his majesty that the course of negotiation pursued by his majesty's ministers was not, in our judgment calculated to support the honour and just interests of the British people, or to afford any reasonable expectation of averting the war which is now commenced.

"To state to his majesty that we have learnt with just indignation that the French king, regardless of all such representations as may have been made to him on the part of his majesty, and no less forgetful of the powerful assistance which had so lately contributed to his restoration, than of that right which all nations possess to regulate for themselves the internal institutions of their governments, has proceeded to make an unprovoked and unjustifiable attack on Spain, the preservation of whose independence has been at all times, and is, for the most obvious reasons, more especially at present, an essential object of British policy, as necessary to the safety of his majesty's oldest and most faithful ally, and to the security of his majesty's dominions.

"To acquaint his majesty, that we most highly disapprove of the conduct of his majesty's ministers in having, for the sake and at the desire of France, suggested to the Spanish people the expediency of making alterations in their constitution similar to those which France proposed as the alternative of hostilities, even without having received any positive assurance that such concession on the part of Spain would secure her from further interference in her internal affairs, and in having shown throughout the whole course of the late negotiations more solicitude to save the French government from disgrace and danger, than to maintain the interests of Spain, which must have been endangered by the slightest concession on the demand of a foreign power, and under the menace of a foreign war as the penalty of her refusal.

"To represent to his majesty, that on a review of the whole conduct of the French government, during the late transactions, we can place no reliance on their disavowal of all views of ambition and aggrandizement, or on their assurances that They will respect the independence of Portugal.

"To assure his majesty, that when we reflect that the successful assertion of the principle now acted upon by France would endanger the security of every constitutional government, and that its immediate consequence must be the reestablishment of that ascendancy over Spain which it has been at all times the undoubted object of France to acquire, we cannot hesitate to acquire, we cannot hesitate to express the most ardent wishes for the triumph of the Spanish nation in the just and honourable conflict in which it is engaged.

"To declare to his majesty that, in the opinion of this House, a more prompt, decisive, and unequivocal policy would under all the circumstance of France and of Europe, have afford the best hopes of preventing the commencement of a war, in which we cannot but apprehend period, and under circumstances of accumulated difficulty, compel this country to engage."

The Earl of Harrowby

said that he was prepared to show, that throughout the whole of the negotiations before the House, his noble friend, the duke of Wellington, had acted to up to the letter and, spirit of his instructions; and that if blame could attach any where, which he did not admit, none could be attributed to his noble friend. He was rather surprised at the conduct which the noble mover had pursued on this occasion. He had thought, from the noble lord's notice that he would have come down on this evening with an unequivocal declaration, that it was more for the honour of this country that we should have gone to war than, remained at peace. Instead of this, however, the noble lord had brought a violent charge against the conduct of his majesty's government. A part of the noble, lord's complaint was, that a "more prompt, decisive, and unequivocal policy" had not been adopted by this government at the commencement of the negotiations; by which course the noble lord contended that peace would have been preserved. By this he understood the noble lord not to prefer war. The real question, however, which was to be decided, was, whether peace was, under all the circumstances, to be preferred to war; for unless it was meant to be contended, that we should have engaged in a war against France, and in support of Spain, the words "more prompt, decisive, and unequivocal policy" had no meaning whatever. Assuming, then, that it was better we should remain at peace—and he did not understand the noble lord to contend that we ought to have gone to war—he maintained that the course which government had adopted was the wisest. The noble lord had contended, that we had been duped by the perfidious conduct of France. Now, supposing for a moment that we had been misled as to her intentions, would that be of itself a ground for our entering into a war? This government had, from the first, adopted a tone of conciliation. Supposing that at the commencement, or in the progress of the negotiations, we had had doubts as to the sincerity of France; still, he maintained, we were bound to proceed in the same conciliatory course; but, if we had no doubts of her sincerity, no reason could be alleged for a departure from that course. From all that he knew of these transactions, he was more and more convinced of the wisdom of the course which his majesty's ministers had adopted; and he felt that it would be a consolation to them in their last moments, that they had persevered in that line of policy up to the present hour. If the question was merely whether we should have gone to war or not, then he might admit all that the noble lord had said as to the propriety of assuming a menacing attitude. But, the object of this country had, from the commencement, been conciliatory. The sentiments of this country against the principle of interference in the internal government of other countries, had been clearly explained to the other powers of Europe, so far back as the year 1820. Early in the spring of that year it was apprehended that some interference would take place with regard to Spain. Their lordships knew what was the language which England held on that occasion, and up to the present year, no steps had been taken, on the part of the allied powers, to withdraw their ambassadors. The interposition, of England was confined to advice and remonstrance—to a representation of the effect which the measures of France would have upon the interests of other nations. The tone which she held was conciliatory; but it was much more likely to produce effect than hostile language, which might give offence without gaining any point. England did not assume a more decided tone, because she was anxious at all events to avoid a war. It was for their lordships to say, whether that policy was sound, or whether this country ought to rush into a war in support of the Spanish constitution, and what was called the cause of Spain. What was the cause of Spain? Their lordships could not say, with any thing like confidence to which side the Spanish nation inclined. In a war where France would appear on one side and England on the other, it would perhaps be difficult to find out which party would have the greater number of auxiliaries in Spain. Divided as the Spanish nation was—her people split into parties, and taking different views of the question—it would surely be most unwise on the part of England to take any hostile step, unless her own interests were deeply and immediately concerned. It had been argued that the interests of England were deeply concerned—that the power of France over this country would be greatly increased by the present struggle. In the first place, he would beg to observe, that the assumed power of France must depend upon her success, and she would not succeed unless a great portion of the Spanish people were with her; unless they entered into her views and supported her efforts. If, on the other hand, one half of the Spanish people should drive the French out of their country, time power of France would not be increased, but diminished but if the Spaniards gave a just preference, not to the original despotism of Ferdinand, but to a constitution more qualified and more monarchical, would the influence of France be thereby increased? If the French arms should, indeed, succeed in restoring Ferdinand to the throne, they, might have a partial and temporary influence; but not of a nature to be dangerous or detrimental to this country. Their lordships might be referred to history to shew the danger of French influence, and how that influence had been, resisted on the part of England; but, were the facts stated in the history of past times applicable to the state of things in the present day? It was, perhaps, wise and politic on the part of England, to watch at all times with jealous attention, the aggrandizement of France, and to guard against the danger of a close connexion between that country and Spain; but, in looking at the question of danger to this country at present, their lordships would do well to compare the political weight of Spain with her power and weight at former periods. In the time of Louis the 14th Spain was powerful country—a country whose finances were as flourishing as any other of the states of Europe at that period, and whose navy was nearly equal to that of France. In the then powerful state of the Spanish nation, it might with justice be considered dangerous to this country to have the crowns of France and Spain placed on the heads of the same family. But what had been the event? As if to baffle political speculation and to confound the reasoning of politicians, the very next war that broke out in Europe was a war in which France was the ally of England against Spain. He stated the historical fact to remind their lordships, that the jealousy excited by a combination between France and Spain must naturally have been greater when Spain was powerful, than it ought to be at a period when Spain was weak. At the time of the peace of 1763, the condition of Spain was very different from its condition at the present period. Her people were then united; her resources were great; she had all the colonies at her disposal. But now without colonies, with a divided people, with a constitution, which, if supported by one party, was opposed by another—the influence of France, even if France could gain an influence in Spain, could excite comparatively little uneasiness in this country. He did not mean to deny, that a union between France and Spain was not to be discouraged by this country. But, was that alliance, under all the circumstances, a just cause of war? Was this country, from a sense of her honour—from a feeling of her interest—from a regard for the principles of her own constitution—called upon at the present day to enter into a war? And, if she was not, what became of the position of the noble lord? Was it for England to say to the allied powers, that they should not interfere with Spain? England had a right to assert her own principles; to proclaim her interpretation of the rights and the laws of nations: but, if other powers formed other views—if other powers entertained the notion that principles different from those acted on in Spain were better calculated to promote the happiness of that nation—had not those powers a right to assert their opinions and their principles? If those powers felt that the constitution of Spain was likely not only not to promote the happiness of the people of that country, but to be dangerous to the security of other nations, they had a right to act upon that opinion. Nor was England called upon, by any sound motive of policy, to take an hostile attitude. She might disapprove—she might remonstrate—but she was not called upon to draw the sword, strong as she was, able as she was, to enter into a contest. Yet, certainly, it would not be politic for England to risk a war at present. Should circumstances hereafter compel her to draw the sword, she would undoubtedly be better able to do so, after she had recruited her strength by a long continuance of peace. With respect to what had been done at Verona, England had asserted her principles; but she had done no more. Differing with the other powers of Europe, upon this point, she did not join in their deliberations; but she did not take an hostile tone. If England had menaced France—France, sure as she was of the support and cooperation of the other great powers of Europe—a temptation would have been afforded to her which flesh and blood could be scarcely able to resist. Every party in France, even that party which was most opposed to the general views of government, would have exulted in the idea of a war against England—a war formidable to this country, because supported by the powers of the continent. It was but natural that every party in France, however they might differ amongst themselves, would cordially join in applauding a war against England. France had undergone the humiliation of seeing her capital occupied by the armies of the powers of Europe, of whom England was the chief. France, after having been twice subdued by England in conjunction with the other powers of Europe, would certainly be exposed to a great temptation to go to war—if she found herself at the head of a powerful coalition, instead of being marked at as the object of its vengeance. Under ordinary circumstances, disputes might be accommodated; but, from the very nature of the relations and situation of France and Spain, that accommodation became impossible. England could not hope to prevent the dispute, unless she went further than would be reasonable, or than their lordships would approve. Unless she went so far as to call upon France to disband her Army of Observation, the causes of irritation between France and Spain could not be removed. England could do nothing for Spain unless she took part in the war. And, would a war be country was labouring to recruit her energies, to regain in the time of peace and repose, that strength which she had lost in the tumult and exertions of war? England, in the event of war, would have to prepare for great efforts. She must not only have fleets sufficient to sweep the ocean, but an army strong enough to maintain itself on the continent. And he would ask, after what had been so often asserted by noble lords on the other side, of the immense expense of the last war, could any thing be more destructive to our resources—could any thing be more calculated to prevent this country from surmounting those difficulties to which its exertions in the late war had unavoidably placed it—than such preparation? He would freely admit, that if the time arrived for such preparation, we should make it, cost what it would. But he did not think the time had arrived, nor was it likely soon to occur. The noble lord seemed to apprehend danger to Europe, and particularly that this country would be involved in the war, by the probable interference of France with other countries in alliance with us. The noble lord founded his fears on this subject upon his distrust of the assurances of France. Now, be saw no reason for distrusting the assurances of France. He was disposed to trust the assurances of a foreign power when he was satisfied that those assurances were in consonance with its own interest. Suppose France to succeed in Spain, did not the noble lord think that she would be sufficiently happy to escape from that most perilous war, without being attacked by England, and not trouble herself by attacking Portugal, which she had no interest in doing, and when she must know, that we were bound by treaty, which Portugal would call upon us to fulfil, to defend her in case of unprovoked aggression? What would be our situation in that case? We should then appear, not at the head of and supporting the revolutionists of Europe, but maintaining our honour in the fulfilment of our treaties with an antient ally. Besides, all the other powers of Europe would be equally interested with England in opposing such an attack. The noble lord had made some strong observations upon the circumstance of the government of this country having advised that of Spain to make some modification of the constitution of that country. Did the noble lord mean to contend, that the fact of this country merely offering advice to Spain, the compliance with which was not to be the price of our friendship, and the rejection of which was not to be a cause of hostility, was an infringement of international law? The noble lord had certainly declared that it was; but he had omitted to state the grounds on which he came to that conclusion. He would ask the noble lord, who seemed so averse to effecting any change in the constitution of Spain, whether he thought that an adherence to the constitution of the cortes was essential to the happiness of the Spanish people? Did he think that they could be happy under it? He would declare, that the existing constitution possessed many faults. He did not mean to say that those faults would justify the armed interference of a foreign power to remove them; but they were sufficient ground for a friendly state to address its advice to the government of Spain. The experience of the Spanish constitution had certainly been short; but yet he did not hesitate to declare, that it had been proved to be absolutely unfit for the government of Spain, or of any other country. The defects of the Spanish constitution very materially affected the question of peace or war. Before we engaged in a war, it was necessary to consider what assistance we could derive from Spain. Spain, in consequence of the divisions which prevailed in that country, arising out of the detects of the present constitution, would rather clog, than assist the endeavours of the British government. He would read to the House a description of the present constitution of Spain, and of the effects which were certain to result from its operation, from a book which was not likely to speak unfavourably of experiments in governments. Here the noble earl read the following extract from the 46th number of the Edinburgh Review.

"Thus we find that, with the exception of Cadiz and a part of the army, the measures of the cortes met with general reprobation. The nobles had lost substantial revenues; the people had gained only abstract rights:—those were deprived of what they valued, and these had obtained what they never desired. Some were shocked in their opinions; some curtailed of their authority; some attacked in their interests. Amongst the nobility, the cortes were levellers; with the clergy they were Atheists; and by the common people they were coarsely called traitors. The objects of such defamation, in the mean time, were far too much elated with the idea of the great figure they were making, to be aware of the sentiments they had excited. It has been said of the French tragedians, that they paint passions and not characters. The Spanish Liberales considered opinions and not passions. They opposed the definitions of liberty and despotism to a host of prejudices, and thought they had destroyed the power when they had logically refuted the reasonings of their antagonists."

So little were the people of Spain, generally, attached to the constitution, that it was a fact, that from the period when it became known to them that the option was, submission to the French, or submission to the cortes, disturbances had considerably decreased. If the noble duke near him had again appeared at the head of an army in Spain, he would not have possessed the same prospect of success, as when he fought on a former occasion in that country. He would have found himself placed in the midst of a divided people, and deprived of the support of that portion of it from whose exertions he had before derived the greatest assistance.—The noble lord had assumed, that the noble duke had suggested to the Spanish government precisely the same changes which the French government had demanded from it. That was not the case. The noble duke certainly suggested to the Spanish government the propriety of making such changes in the constitution as might afford to France some ground upon which she might abandon her intention of interference. But, this country never had suggested that the Spanish people should accept whatever amendments the king might be pleased to offer. That suggestion he thought was perfectly intolerant. All that was suggested to the Spanish government, in the noble duke's memorandum and in Mr. Canning's despatch, was, that some alterations should be made in the constitution; without pointing out this thing or that thing as necessary to be done. All that was desired was, that the Spanish constitution should be amended, so as to become better calculated to afford happiness to the people who lived under it, and to be more in accordance with the governments of other countries. Would it have been inconsistent with the honour and dignity of Spain, at a time when her people were divided in opinion with respect to the benefit to be derived from the constitution—when she was threatened with an invasion which she had no means to meet—to make, or at least to take into consideration the necessity of making, some alterations in her constitution? It would not. But Spain had refused to make any such alterations, merely because more extravagant changes had been demanded from her.—The noble lord had accused ministers of having endeavoured to make the Spaniards violate their oaths, by calling upon them to consent to some modification of their form of government. He could assure the noble lord, that a great difference of opinion prevailed in Spain, with regard to the obligations of the oath by which the Spaniards pledged themselves to support the constitution. By some it was maintained, that the constitution was not now the same as it was when first established, in consequence of the separation of the American colonies. Others contended, that the constitution had already existed for eight years, being established in 1812, and, therefore, that it might be modified without infringing the article which declared, that no change should be made in it during that period of time from its first establishment. When so many opinions prevailed in Spain with respect to the intention of the oath which had been alluded to, surely the British government might be excused for having advised the Spaniards to give it that interpretation which was most for their interest. He could see nothing inconsistent with honour in one government recommending, or in another adopting, such a course.—In one part of his address, the noble lord had said, that the allied sovereigns, after conquering Naples, Piedmont, and Spain, would complete their work by putting down the liberties of England. He thought that the only answer which should fall from the lips of an Englishman, upon that part of the noble lord's speech, was, "let them come and try." Feeling that the honour and the dignity of the country had been fully maintained during the late negotiations, he would conclude by calling on their lordships, if they participated in his sentiments, to acquit ministers of the charges which the noble lord had brought against them.

Lord Holland

said, he would endeavour to show that the noble earl who had just, sat down had not taken a right view of the question before the House; that he had perverted all the historical facts to which he had referred; that the view which he had taken of the policy of this country was directly opposed to the principles which the noble lords about him had always maintained; and that, in his strictures on the constitution of Spain, he had betrayed gross ignorance of the history of that country, and of its constitution. Before, however, he proceeded to do that, he felt it incumbent on him to return his thanks to his noble friend for bringing the question forward. If instead of agreeing; as he did, with every word of the address, and with every sentiment that had fallen from the lips of his noble friend, he had the misfortune to differ from him, still he would consider, that, as a member of the British parliament, he was bound to return his thanks to the noble lord for the attempt he had made to rescue their lordships from the imputation of not venturing to express an opinion upon the mass of papers—the mass of communications of failure—which had been laid on their table. Where, in the annals of this country, was any example to be found of ministers bringing down papers to prove their failure in negotiations, and to prove, at the same time, that the consequence of their failure was, that the antient and natural rival of this country had made an unprincipled aggression upon that power of Europe in whom our interests w ere most involved, without the parliament of England daring to express their opinions on the subject? Never, in the history of any country, had there been such an instance of the failure of the whole course of policy of the government, as that which had been afforded by the noble earl and his colleagues over the way, within these few days. Such were the feelings of indignation and disappointment which pressed upon his mind on this subject, that he hardly knew how to give utterance to them. Never had the ministers of any country entered upon negotiations with greater advantages, than those which the noble lord and his colleagues possessed. They had, in the person of the secretary of state, a man of great and brilliant talents, and one of the ablest reasoners in Europe—they had for a negotiator, the noble duke opposite, whose very name and appearance, connected with the memory of his past achievements, carried with them the marks of success—they had with them, during the negotiations, the honest opinion of the parliament and people of Great Britain with them; and, what was worth them all, they had a good and just cause to support; but, all the time, they were wanting in good will and honest intentions. During many years, the noble earl over the way and those around him had come down to the House with glowing descriptions of the state of the country: during the last six or seven years, to be sure, they had been ingeniously attempting to cast upon Providence, or some other cause, the consequences of their own mismanagement; but still they continued to say, that, at least, we had assumed a high situation, and attracted the envy of all mankind they still ravished the ear with their brilliant statements, and actually made their lordships believe, that they were the lords of the creation; that nations attended their nod, and that they shook the spheres. But now the tone of the noble earl was quite changed. The very nation which, but a few years ago, had made so many sacrifices in support of the independence of Spain, now saw, unmoved, an aggression made upon that country, the most wanton and the most unjust that history could record. The question pressed home upon the ministers of this country: it was a question between the sacrifice of war on the one hand, and the preservation of national honour on the other. At such a moment, what was the conduct of his majesty's ministers? What said Timotheus, placed on high?— War, he sung, is toil and trouble: Honour but an empty bubble. Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the goods the Gods provide thee. Perhaps the noble earl might find, when it would be too late, that the pacific lady to whom he seemed so much attached was, if not a meretricious wanton, at least a capricious fool, who would induce him to part with liberty and independence to please some whim of the moment. To be serious, however, he thought that there had never been, on the part of public men, an exhibition of greater humiliation than that which had been afforded by the noble lords opposite. There were no circumstances attending the late negotiations which could diminish the mortification which he felt at their result. Had we been defeated by an enemy, we might have felt disappointment, but not shame; but to be tricked and duped by a power who pretended to be on amicable, terms with us, was indeed a degradation. The noble earl opposite had said, in allusion to a similar observation which had fallen from his noble friend, "how can you make use of such wild and preposterous discourse—it is quite absurd." He (lord H.) remembered, that, about eight years ago, when he declared in that House that the Bourbons were a perfidious and ambitious race, the noble earl at the head of the Treasury exclaimed, "Oh, dear, what is the use of all this antiquated stuff? we all know that." He could conceive nothing more galling to the noble earl opposite, and to the majority of their lordships who supported the late war on the principle of restoring the Bourbons, than to find this country treated so contemptuously as it had recently been by those very Bourbons. He could not find words to express what he desired to say on this point; but would have recourse to an author who was a great master of language, and had a profound knowledge of the human heart. He felt it necessary to apologize to the House for the length of the quotation, which was as follows:— But shall it he, that you—that set the crown Upon the head of this forgetful man; And, for his sake, wear the detested blot Of murd'rous subornation—shall it be, That you a world of curses undergo; Being the agents, or base second means, The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?— O, pardon me, that I descend so low, To show the line, and the predicament, Wherein you range under this subtle king.— Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days, Or fill up chronicles in time to come, That men of your nobility and power, Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf,— As both of you, God pardon it! have done, And shall it, in more shame, be further spoken, That you are fool'd, discarded, and shook off By him, for whom these shames ye underwent? The sentiments thus beautifully expressed were those which every man must entertain towards the noble earl opposite, and all those who advised and supported him in lavishing so much blood and treasure in the attempt to restore the family which now held possession of the throne of France: The noble earl opposite seemed displeased sat the term "dupes" being used with reference to himself and his colleagues. He had asked, how far they had been dupes? He was very nice in his definition of dupery. But, how did the noble earl prove that he had not been duped? Why, by comparing himself to a man in love. It would not be at all surprising to find dupery existing even in that case but nevertheless the noble earl seemed to think with the poet— That love may hope, when reason must despair. One great fault pervaded the whole of the late negotiations; namely, a constant leaning towards those who attack rather than towards those who were attacked. Throughout the whole transaction the government of this country had exhibited a sort of predilection for the Bourbons and a sort of neglect and indifference for the dearest interests of this country. Though here and there a few remonstrances might be found scattered through the papers upon the table, they were remonstrances against the expediency of the attack upon Spain, and not remonstrances against the abominable principle upon which it proceeded. This was not acting the part of a friend towards Spain. It was more like what an antient poet described to have been the conduct of the father of Phaëeton, who, instead of pointing out to, his son the probability that his mad project would cause the conflagration of the world, talked only of the danger which would result to himself from carrying his scheme into execution. The noble duke opposite, when the wicked schemes of France were propounded at the congress, had contented himself with referring to the principles laid down in a note written by lord Londonderry, in 1820. He would be sorry to say any thing in the way of criticism upon the wording of, that note; but, with respect to the principles, which were laid down in it, how were the allies to comment upon them? What interpretation were the powers to whom the note was addressed to put upon its contents? They would judge of our intentions by our actions; and that was the rule, of judgment that should be adopted in all matters. He would suppose, then, that prince Metternich and count Nesselrode had assembled in secret to consider the principles laid down in lord Londonderry's note, and that one of the worthies said, "God knows what the note means, but let us see how the English government has acted upon it. Did it not, after the note was written, allow us to destroy Naples? To be sure, it stated that it was a very wicked act, and it exhibited some pouting and blustering beforehand; but it did not interfere to prevent us from accomplishing our object. These words, therefore, are intended for another forum: they are meant for the Lords, Commons, and public of England, but inactivity and indifference will be observed towards what we may do." That, he had no doubt, was the reasoning which the allied powers held with regard to lord Londonderry's circular. He would not dwell upon the spirit which had, governed all the early part of the negotiations—a spirit similar to that which prevented certain persons from mentioning "hell to ears polite." It was in that spirit that the British government had talked of the infamous and unprovoked attack upon Spain as a "great and unnecessary assumption of responsibility," at the same time urging the great danger which might result from it to the house of Bourbon. He regretted that all the facts which had been made known with respect to the late negotiations, had not sooner been communicated to parliament. He had been led to suppose, from the tone adopted by the noble earl opposite on a former occasion, that ministers had succeeded in preventing France from carrying her designs into execution, by means of negotiation. He (lord H.) had then observed to himself that there must be some dexterity in the case. Did he blame ministers for that? Certainly not: if ministers chose to exercise their dexterity to gain a desirable object, he would not blame them if they succeeded. Talking upon this subject put him in mind of the sportsmen with whom he used to mix in his younger years, some of whom, instead of following in the direct tract after the hounds, would take to the gaps in the hedges; if they came in at the death they were said to be clever fellows, who knew the country; but if they failed to do so, they became the derision of the party. This was precisely the case of public men who chose to adopt an intricate and cunning mode of conduct. If they were successful they were called clever fellows; and if otherwise, they became the scorn of the world. The noble earl had talked a great deal about the faults of the Spanish constitution. At the time that constitution was first established, he (lord H) had ventured to state in that House, that it was not without imperfections, and that he considered it unwise to write a constitution to meet every possible case that might arise. He had lived for some time in Spain, and since he had left that country he had maintained constant communications with the friends whom he had known there; it might, therefore, be supposed that he possessed some knowledge of the manners and feelings of Spaniards. Yet he had not ventured, like the czar of Muscovy (who doubtless was better able to obtain information upon those matters: from the midst of his ices and snows), to declare that the constitution of Spain was, not suited to the habits of the people of that country. In spite of which declaration, however, he had not hesitated to guarantee the safety of that constitution. That guarantee, the czar, as well as the other members of the holy alliance, had afterwards got rid of, by observing that, at the time they signed it, it was necessary, but that it was no longer so. Upon this point he could not help mentioning a circumstance which had come to his knowledge, and which would show how, those persons who talked so decidedly al the faults of other governments behaved when they received the least hint of the existence of imperfections in their own. In 1814, the government of Russia was, to use a nautical phrase, on the "liberal tack." The autocrat czar emperor talked a great deal, then, about the constitutional system, and expressed a wish to give constitution to the duchy of Warsaw, by way of experiment. Upon this subject lord Londonderry entered into a confidential correspondence with the emperor of Russia. Lord Londonderry addressed the emperor in the following manner:—"If your imperial majesty is anxious to make experiments in constitutions, your majesty possesses many provinces of your; own, and may as well begin to make the experiments in some of them." That was a very pertinent and a very forcible remark. But the mighty emperor was upon; the high horse, and could not endure to be spoken to in that style. He, therefore wrote back to lord Londonderry in the following terms: "When I came to that passage of your lordship's letter, in which you talked of my duty to my own subjects, and the conduct that I ought to adopt towards them, it required all the confidence which I repose in the purity of your lordship's intentions, to enable me to recover from the impression which those observations made upon me." His imperial majesty then went on to say, "I think it much better that the correspondence should drop." This was the conduct of the man who presumed to give an opinion with respect to the fitness or unfitness of the constitutions of independent states, without having any grounds upon which to form his opinions. Suppose the noble duke opposite had been accosted, whilst riding at Verona, by some of the hussar or calmuck attendants of the emperors of Austria and Russia in the following manner: "Your grace's horse is rather wild, he does not go well in his paces, he is heavy in the shoulder," and so forth. He could imagine that the noble duke would have replied, that he had ridden at the head of armies in many countries, and that he thought he was a judge of a good horse, but that he might be mistaken, and so he would have let the impertinence pass. But, if a Venetian nobleman, who had never before stirred out of his gondola, should have come up to the gallant duke, and exclaimed "I never saw such a wretched horse in my life!" he believed that his grace, in spite of all his good nature, would have felt very much inclined to give the intruder a cut with his whip, and to have sent him about his business. At the commencement of his speech, he had said, that the noble earl who spoke last had manifested much ignorance of the constitutional history of Spain. The noble earl did not seem to be aware that the monarchy was never hereditary in Spain, until it was made so by the present constitution. The king of Great Britain always succeeded to the crown by right; but, until the government of the cortes was established, the king of Spain succeeded by election. No law was promulgated in Spain, which did not state at the commencement, that nothing therein contained should be executed until approved of by the cortes. The noble earl had said, that only a slight alteration of the Spanish constitution would have been sufficient to satisfy France. But, if the Spaniards had consented to any modification of the form of their government, it would have been considered a complete triumph on the part of the allied powers. It was not true, as the noble earl alleged, that the constitution had produced all the evils which at present existed in Spain. The same objections which were now made to the Spanish constitution, might, with equal justice, have been applied to the constitution of this or any country shortly after a great political convulsion. Let the constitution of Spain have time to operate, and to make its effects felts throughout the country, and the evils which were now lamented would speedily disappear. The noble earl would not tell their lordships what the Spanish constitution, which had only been established eight years, had done, but he said he would tell them what the Edinburgh Review said about it. In opposition to the noble earl, he must contend, that there existed many obstacles to an alteration of the Spanish constitution. The oaths which the noble earl made so light of were one of the chief obstacles to such a measure. He thought the strict adherence of the Spaniards to their oaths was one of the surest tests by, which to judge of their inclination to obey the laws of their country. The noble earl would have had the Spaniards go to the pope of Rome, or any where else to get absolved from their oaths; but in his (lord H.'s) opinion, their adherence to the obligations which they had entered into was more honourable to them than would have been a departure from them for any purpose whatever.—He could state many reasons which must have decided the Spaniards not to comply with the demands of foreign powers; but he would just show how difficult would have been to do so. In the papers on the table, it was stated as a great objection against the existing constitution of Spain, that the king could not marry whom he pleased. That might be made a good plea for the invasion of this country. But, however, the emperor of Russia, having said that the king could not marry, the noble duke opposite observed that his majesty could not "perform his, functions." Then came M. de Chateaubriand, who objected that the king was not permitted to go to the watering places. The noble duke had also stated that his majesty was not trusted. These to be sure (continued his lordship) are very special objections to a constitution. We must then supply a constitution such as this monarch ought to give; for to that issue the matter comes at last. But then comes that notable suggestion made through our ministers—"Raise the qualification of your members of parliament, and have two Houses. But, will his majesty of Spain be able to perform his functions so much the better, if the members of the legislature have each of them a larger estate than he possesses at present? Suppose the king to have this sort of constitution prepared for him, will that circumstance better qualify him to perform his functions? Will he be satisfied, provided he has a larger parliament, and a richer House of Commons? But then it has been said, "You ought to have two chambers. New this is a moat extraordinary remedy to propose for that which it has been presumed is so great an evil. For what is the case? The first chamber will not allow you to perform your functions, and therefore you shall have two, say our ministers to the king of Spain. That is, instead of having only your hands tied, your legs shall be bound also. What kind of reasoning is this? I have always understood, that when you wish to induce a person to do something that is disagreeable to him, you must at least endeavour to show him that he will benefit by it. But here your proposal leads to precisely a contrary consequence. Did we offer any sufficient inducements for their adoption? Did we say to Spain, "If you agree to these you shall not have a war with France?" No. Did we say, "Concur with us, and France will desist from all further designs upon your rights and your territory?" No. Did we say, "if she is still so unreasonable as to persist in her aggression, we will interfere to compel her to desist?" No, not a word of the kind. Was not the absence of any such offers in us most unreasonable conduct towards Spain? You asked her, to depart from the whole course of her policy. You asked her in a moment of dissention and disunion, to quit the only rallying point she had, and to abandon, at such a crisis, her principles and her government. I protest that I believe no man can read the papers which that government issued on a late memorable occasion, without a deep conviction, that in such men as San Miguel, and Galliano, and my noble and disinterested friend Arguelles, Spain possesses champions whose ardent devotion to the best interests of their country, is sufficient to defeat the host of sophists and diplomatists that would compromise her freedom. The noble earl says, that our policy has been, to avoid, as much as possible, all interference between the two powers; and to maintain a neutral and pacific attitude. I deny the noble lord's position; for I say that, that is not the question here. Why did his majesty's ministers think it was for the interests of this country to send diplomatists abroad for the purpose of preventing the rupture? What was the principle of that interference? It was, that they thought it the best course to hinder a war from breaking out between France and England; and I contend, that the proceeding which would adequately have effected this object; would also have, prevented the war between France and Spain. Perhaps I shall be told by the noble earl and his colleagues, that I am for war, and they are for peace. I confess I have not war, but I ask his majesty's government, whether they are satisfied of the continuance of peace? Do they not know that since these papers were laid before the House, circumstances have arisen to make that fact questionable? Have they heard of the late capture in the West Indies? Do they know that that capture was effected under orders sent from home? Are they aware that the insurance offices will be called upon to pay for it? It will be in your lordships recollection, that when, upon a former night, I asked the noble earl opposite, whether any treaty had been concluded between Russia and France, the noble lord replied, that he had neither seen nor known of any such a treaty. Will he stand up in his place now, and say that none such exists? Will he stand up and declare that no agreement of this sort subsists, for carrying into execution the stipulations agreed to at Laybach and Verona? Your lordships must see how strangely and how carefully, whenever this question is adverted to by ministers, Russia is always kept out of view. The noble earl: who spoke last, says, "if the French succeed, I don't see much danger of war to this country." No danger? What is to avert it? The noble lord tells you, "we have the assurances of Portugal, our ally, in our favour." But does the noble lord mean to say, that, when the French shall have established an arbitrary government at Madrid, the establishment of the Spanish constitution at Lisbon will not beat; good a motive with them for waging war against Portugal, as it has already been for invading Spain? Is there that vast dissimilarity of language, of situation, of interests, of connexions, between the two kingdoms, that Portugal can reasonably expect a more favourable consideration? Either they must leave the Spaniards to themselves (which I by no means believe they will do), or in Spain they must continue French armies. In that case what is the guarantee that really remains to us? Why, the assurances of the house of Bourbon, and the moderation of a French army in the hour of victory! Of such a security as this, I give the noble lord joy. But then, says the noble lord, "whence this anxiety for a constitution obtained by military force? The constitution of Spain was effected by force; it was extorted by soldiers." Suppose it to have been so, is it on that account to be put down? Let the House recall to mind the circumstances under which it was achieved, and the monarch under which it was obtained. And are instances wanting, in our own history, where arms have acquired liberties? Would that benevolent monarch, that amiable man, king John, would he, I pray, voluntarily and of his own free grace and favour, have accorded Magna Charta to the barons? Does the noble lord mean to affirm, that to the government of France and all the other continental governments—those allied enemies of constitutions so irregularly obtained—the freedom of the press in this country, and the publication of the discussions in both Houses of parliament is no grievance? No grievance, my lords? It is a fearless tribunal which holds up their iniquities, and publishes their transgressions to the world. Then as to the danger of a future war between this country and the French—"Oh," cries the noble earl, "let them come and try!" Why, this indeed is the good old Tory defiance, if I mistake not, and sounds bold and confinent enough; but let us see how it is sustained. If that noble lord and his colleagues really think it the right policy to be adopted, why all these alliances? To what purpose the expense of all these embassies and negotiations; with what object these numerous treaties? The noble lord went on to show, that the noble earl who preceded him had been totally mistaken as to facts, for that the Peninsular war between Spain and France was as hostile to our safety, and as prejudicial to our greatness as any wars in the Low Countries could be.—But, O! said the noble earl, we have tried it before, and we know the consequences. Did the noble earl, or did any of his friends near him, mean to say, that from the peace of Utrecht down to the French war, there had been a single year in which the influence of French councils upon Spain did not operate to our prejudice? Much had been said about the American war, as compared with other periods of our history; but he would challenge any noble lord to put his finger upon any period of our history, since the reign of Elizabeth, in which we can a greater risk of total an- nihilation, than we did during the American war, from the combined operation of the French and Spanish fleets. Did the noble lords opposite mean to say, that if the French took possession of Cadiz or Madrid, this would alter or confirm the elective monarchy? As those noble lords had referred to our principles with respect to Naples, he would refer to our practice with respect to Naples, and ask, what man was there who would deny, that Naples was at this moment in the military possession of Austria? What, then, were they to expect from the military occupation of Spain by France; supposing the latter power to accomplish the object she had in view? He ridiculed the idea of our being unable to give any effective assistance to Spain, except by means of a large army. Did not the noble lords know that much might be accomplished by sending a fleet into the Mediterranean? Did they not know that much might be accomplished by the moral influence resulting from the concurrence of this country in the cause of Spain? He was old enough to recollect the events which immediately preceded the French revolution; and, whatever difference of opinion might have existed between Mr. Pitt and himself upon certain points, he was ready to admit, that that statesman was perfectly sincere in his professions of neutrality in 1792. This was the more apparent from the reductions which he made during that period. He (lord H) could not, however, conceal from himself, that in no longer a space than one year and a half from the declaration of neutrality, this country had been precipitated into a war, for the sole purpose of replacing the Bourbons on the throne of France. The noble lord observed, in conclusion, that our failure in the late negotiations had been produced, partly by error in judgment, but in a greater degree by a want of that firmness which we ought to have maintained; and that in consequence this country had lost the glorious opportunity of resuming her antient station amongst the nations of Europe, and of becoming the patroness of the weak, and the advocate of civil liberty all over the world.

Lord Granville

contended, that his majesty's ministers, in the conduct they had pursued, had consulted the best interests of the country, by using their utmost efforts to maintain a strict neutrality. On this occasion, although he had no doubt that if any circumstances of indispensable necessity should ever require that a war should be undertaken, the people of England would make every necessary sacrifice with that cheerfulness and good-will, which, on all occasions affecting the national welfare, had distinguished them. At present he saw no such case. The government of this country had done all that it was necessary for them to do, by the intervention of their good offices. He should therefore, move, by way of amendment, an address to his majesty,

"To assure his majesty of our entire concurrence in the principles which his majesty has repeatedly declared with respect to interference in the internal concerns of independent nations, and in his majesty's just application of those principles in the course of the late negotiations to the case of Spain.

"To acknowledge with gratitude his majesty's earnest and unwearied endeavours to preserve the peace of Europe.

"To express our deep regret that those endeavours have proved unavailing, and, while we rejoice that his majesty has not become party to a war in which neither honour, nor treaty, nor the welfare of his majesty's dominions, required his majesty to engage, to assure his majesty that, highly as we estimate the advantages of peace, particularly at the present moment, we shall be at all times ready to afford to his majesty our most zealous and affectionate support in any measures which his majesty may find necessary to fulfil the obligations of national faith, to vindicate the dignity of his Crown, or to maintain the rights and interests of his people."

The Duke of Buckingham

said, he objected not only to the address, but to the arguments by which it was supported, though nothing could be more different from the argument of the noble mover than the address with which it concluded. The address preached peace; the arguments to enforce it were all for war. If he (the duke of Buckingham) was to go down with infamy to posterity, under the sentence of the noble lord, the noble accuser would be included under the same charge. Let the noble lord look at his own speech. He was condemning the interference with the politics of Spain: the whole tenor of his speech was, that they should interfere in the internal politics of France. The question was, whether this country should continue at peace, or should renew hostilities?—a question of so grave an import, that he hoped it would be kept sacred, if it possibly could, from the influence of popular clamour; yet there was no question within his memory, that had been discussed more in the spirit of popular clamour, and less with sober judgment. The supporters of the address told them, that their policy was neutrality—their spirit was war. If they had had to negotiate, and had done so in the spirit in which they spoke, they must have involved the country in war. Like the lyre of the poet, which would sound to nothing but love, the harp of the noble lord could sound nothing but war. With respect to what passed at Verona, the duty of this country was obvious; its path was straight. There needed no instructions for his noble friend (the duke of Wellington). We had done enough for Europe. It might be matter of regret, that France, who had so long suffered under the calamities of war, should so soon voluntarily renew the scenes of blood and desolation. But we were not to sacrifice our own tranquillity, because they threw their's away. It was only necessary for us, standing on the high eminence on which we were placed, to warn the nations against the perils of war. He was far from saying that, if this country was compelled to enter into a contest, she could not support it with dignity and success; but we were in the situation of an invalid recovering from a dangerous illness; the tide of life was strong, but it might be fatal to us lavishly to waste it. As to the changes in Spain, they formed no cause of war for us, so long as they threatened us with no danger; but, there was no law of nations which authorised us to judge of the dangers of France. We had no right to tell France she was in no danger; we had no right to interfere by remonstrance, much less by hostility. The question did not affect the balance of power [Hear! from the duke of Sussex.] The illustrious duke who cheered, should know that the balance of power in former times was very differently affected by the influence of France over Spain; because it was not the dominion of Spain alone that was then in question, but the dominion of, Spain and the Indies which were now torn from it. Not Portugal alone, but Portugal and Brazil. Not Spain possessing vast revenues and commercial influence, but Spain with half her revenues torn from her, and all her commercial in- fluence gone. If cause for war existed, still nothing but the strongest necessity would justify it, under our present circumstances. What was it should tempt us to war? Was it the state of our commerce? Was it the state of our agriculture? A war would ensure the separation of the Netherlands from our alliance; the loss of Hanover. It would endanger the occupation of the rest of Italy by Austria, of the East by Russia. Was the illustrious duke, who took so lively a share in the discussion, ready to go to war upon those terms?—But, it was not merely from these considerations that he objected to war. He could not concur with those who envied the feelings of their opponents, because they could advocate war without the responsibility of undertaking it. He could not, while he proclaimed the necessity of maintaining neutrality, invoke Heaven for the triumphant success of one of the contending parties [Hear!]. He wished most that the country should remain at peace; but if the country were forced, in its own defence, into the war, he prayed God they might not be called into the field to maintain the principles which had been triumphant in Spain [Hear, hear! From the Opposition side]. He was prepared for these cheers, he was prepared for the obloquy. He did not consider that at least a cause of degradation. The principles he now professed he had been educated in. They were those which he had followed during the whole of his political life, and which he trusted would accompany him to its close. He did not forget the horrors of revolutionary times, the misery of revolutionary warfare, the dreadful result of the spreading of revolutionary doctrines over Europe. He saw little in Spain but the continuation of those doctrines. Noble lords might make his declarations the subject of derision and obloquy, but there was not one who, on retiring to his closet, could conceal from himself, that the spirit of revolution was as rife in Europe as ever, and was endeavouring, by means of military insurrections and Carbonari secret associations, to overturn all established institutions by military force. His opinion might be of little weight; but he appealed to those who wielded the destinies of this great empire. For thirty years they had been calling on the people to pour our their blood to stop the fiery torrent; and they had not called in vain. Its blood had been poured forth like water. For thirty years they had been calling upon it to put forth its treasures, and strain its resources to oppose its progress. The country obeyed the call, and its treasures and resources had been taxed to the uttermost farthing. And now, if they were obliged to go to war; if the obstinacy of one party and the blindness of the other made it imposible to preserve peace; he implored them not to call on the people to pour out their blood again, and again to drain their treasures, for the maintenance or advancement of those detested principles which they had heretofore successfully opposed.

The Duke of Sussex

expressed his acknowledgments to the noble duke for having taken such particular notice of him; but he could not help cheering when he heard the noble duke's observations respecting the balance of power. When he heard those observations he could not avoid calling to mind how seriously the balance of power in Europe had been compromised, particularly in the cession of Genoa to Austria; and he thought he might add the instance of Norway. In his estimation, those arrangements were not exactly consistent with the due maintenance of the balance in Europe. He would not further interrupt the debate: the subject of which was one of the deepest interest. He, however, would add, that his ideas on that subject, though they might be humbly expressed, were entirely contrary to those which had been uttered by the noble duke.

Lord King

declared, that, upon a review of all the transactions between France and Spain, the only inference he could draw, was, that England was to be kicked and cuffed about by foreign powers, because of the pusillanimity of a disgraced government. He had read the papers on their lordships' table with shame, grief, and disappointment. Throughout them, he could not find one honest or manly sentiment, one opinion suited to the occasion, one declaration becoming the character of candid, upright, and fair statesmen. He would not admit that this forbearance was attributable to a prudential policy. It was cold aparthy and indifference to the cause of Spain, and the cause of liberty. To find a parllel for such conduct on the part of a British ministry, their lordships must go back to the discharged times of the Stuarts. In the reign of Charles 2nd, alone could be found a similar instance of baseness. When, in 1685, Louis 14th determined to annex the Spanish Netherlands to the dominion of France, the language of Charles was like that of the present ministers—"Come what may, his majesty is determined to be no party to it." This was exactly the base principle of the base government of Charles 2nd. What was the meaning of that passage in the account of the transactions at Verona, in which the plenipotentiary of Great Britain, on learning the determination of France to invade Spain, declared that nothing remained for him to do, but to require the good offices of the British ambassador at Madrid to allay the ferment which must attend the developement of the French aggression? It was not a little remarkable, that, upwards of a century ago, when the violent events he had alluded to were pending, the negotiator for England on the continent was lord Churchill; Mr. Fox, in contrasting that nobleman's situation when he was an ambassador and when he was a soldier, had truly remarked, how great he appeared at one time, and how little at another. The reason of this difference was, that he was at one time in the field, gloriously asserting the liberties and independence of nations; at another, the tool of a base government, having nothing in view but the suppression of free principles, and the maintenance of the legitimates of that day. There were some persons who were fond of comparing the duke of Wellington to the duke of Marlborough. He was sorry that, in this part of their respective careers, the resemblance was so striking. The noble president of the council had pronounced upon the noble duke an unqualified panegyric, and had told him, that his negotiations were equal to his victories, Until he had heard such an assertion made, he hardly thought the greatest of the noble duke's panegyrists would have gone to such a length. In the noble duke's negotiations he saw no grounds for such panegyric—he saw nothing to justify it in his correspondence at Verona, nor in his instructions to lord Fitzroy Somerset. The negotiations in which he had been engaged, had had no other result than to rivet the despotism of the Continent. Looking back to the peace of Paris, he could see nothing in the negotiations on that occasion, but a surrender of the real interests of Europe; and for what? To re-establish the Bourbons upon the throne of France, and to extinguish, as far as possible, every trace of popular rights. It was true that the blood and treasure of England had profusely flowed to stem the torrent of continental despotism; but where was the glory in the result? One great despot had been overwhelmed; but three had been erected in his place. It was a maxim that limits were set to the most perfect works of human genius. So it was with the treaties of Paris and Vienna: their pence-making had ended abruptly, and had left the world again involved in a struggle for liberty. These being his sentiments, he should support the original address.

The Earl of Aberdeen

defended the conduct of the noble duke, to whom the noble lord had so pointedly alluded, and said, that the whole progress of his negotiations had evinced the steady practical view which he had taken for the preservation of tile peace of this country. He had been charged with not foreseeing the determination of France to make war against: Spain. But, did any man believe that it was either the policy or the interest of France to wage such a war, if it were possible to avoid it; or that she would not have gladly refrained from hostilities were any concession made by Spain, to allay the cause of the disquietude of France, and to afford her a reason for withdrawing without reproach from the contest." But even if the noble duke had been as thoroughly persuaded of the duplicity of France as noble lords opposite now were, he was still prepared to contend, that the noble duke was justified in holding the language he maintained in the negotiation. Taking lord Londonderry's paper of 1821 as his guide, without involving himself in the noble duke's endless interchanges of notes, the noble duke wisely directed all his arguments, to show France the dangers that might follow the invasion of Spain. Such arguments, coming from such a quarter, were calculated to have weight in the French councils. But the noble lords opposite said that our negotiators ought to have asserted a higher tone, and to have adopted more menacing language. Had, however, such a course been adopted, besides increasing our difficulties, he questioned whether it would not have largely contributed to make the war against Spain popular in France. The adoption of menacing language would have been made matter of charge against England, and would have been used as an argument in support of the war. Had England used menacing language, what would have been her situation at the present moment; especially if hostile measures had been threatened without being adopted? Would not England have been exposed to the ridicule of the whole world? And if menacing language used without effect, had been followed by hostile preparations, what would have been their lordships situation at that moment? Were they quite sure what would have been their lordships' feelings under such circumstances? As to the conduct which the ministers had to pursue, it would be recollected that they had to deliberate before they involved this country in hostilities. Were they, on light grounds, to run the risk of interrupting that surprising prosperity which had attended the commercial transactions, in particular, of this country? Were they to expose such improvements to be checked by war? Were they, without the utmost deliberation, to involve the country in fresh taxes and new difficulties, by engaging in a war of which they could not possibly calculate where or when it would end? Had the ministers so acted, he was sure they would have been censured for their rashness; or had the noble duke adopted the tone which some advised, he was sure the noble duke would have been accused of viewing with complacency that state of things which might afford fresh opportunity for his personal exertions. It had been so said of the duke of Marlborough; it might then have been so remarked of the noble duke. He had, on the contrary, laboured to preserve peace; and he could not but think that had the noble duke pressed the sentiments of the English government in a tone of menace, the difficulties of the country would have been greatly increased. What he most admired in the diplomatic conduct of the illustrious duke was, the straight-forward and sincere way in which he had addressed himself to the preservation of the peace of his country, and the declaration of her policy to maintain a strict neutrality between the two belligerent powers. He never gave a vote with less doubt of its propriety, than he did that which he was about to give against the proposed address.

The Earl of Darnley

defended himself and his noble friends from the imputation of being advocates for war, and from a wish to cast blame upon the government for not pressing matters to hostilities. That imputation was undeserved. He founded the vote he should give upon quite a contrary assumption. Ministers would find him perfectly ready, if it could be shown that the policy pursued by them was more likely to preserve peace than to lead to war, to give them credit for that policy. With respect to the part which the duke of Wellington had taken in these negotiations, no doubt that illustrious person had acted according to his instructions: but he must say, that the manner in which his majesty's government had directed these negotiations, evinced, throughout, a desire to establish principles of despotism and bigotry, in opposition to those of liberty and toleration. Peace might be preserved for a time, on the mean and compromising principles adopted by his majesty's ministers, but he doubted not that we should be ultimately involved in a war under infinitely greater disadvantages than we should have had to encounter, if a more manly, and dignified policy had been pursued.

The Duke of Wellington

said, that after the observations which had fallen from the other side of the House, he felt himself called upon to rise, at that early period of the debate, to vindicate the part which he had taken in the conferences at Verona. He thanked his noble friend behind him (lord Aberdeen) for having already urged so ably some of the topics on which his vindication would rest. He stood before their lordships, not only as the individual who had carried on the negotiations at Verona, but also as a member of the cabinet which had drawn up the instructions upon which those negotiations had been conducted, and he called upon the noble lords opposite to state to him whether, at the commencement of those negotiations, they would have taken measures of war or of neutrality for the basis of their future proceedings? As yet they had not declared whether they meant peace or war. Their arguments would lead to war, but they still seemed to lean to pacific measures to and he called upon them, therefore, adopt one line or the other. The government, however, of which he formed a part, had determined on preserving a strict neutrality. They sent him to Verona with instructions to that effect; and in conformity with the spirit of those instructions, he had carried on the negotiations, the merits of which their lordships were that evening assembled to discuss. With such instructions he had entered into conference with the ministers of the other powers. Into the details of those conferences he would not enter at any length; indeed it would not be his duty to do so. His majesty's government had furnished the House with such parts of them as it thought necessary; and upon those alone he would consent to rest his defence; merely premising, that the arguments which he had used at Verona were not addressed to a British public or to a British parliament, but to the ministers of powerful and independent states.—He would now proceed to the charges which had been brought against him. He had been blamed for not having placed in a more prominent point of view, the principles laid down in the state paper drawn up by the late marquis of Londonderry, in 1821. Now, he appealed to the papers themselves as affording a decisive refutation of this charge. He had alluded to that very paper on three or four distinct occasions; though, in point of fact, it was very immaterial whether he had done so or not; as the principles which that state-paper contained had never been admitted by any one of the allied powers. He had not been sent to Verona to argue the correctness of those principles, but to refuse, on the part of the British government, to interfere at all in the internal affairs of Spain. On that principle he had stood during the whole course of the negotiations; and, from first to last, he had endeavoured to dissuade the allied powers from interfering in them, by urging at one time those difficulties which his own experience in Spain suggested to him that they must meet if they persisted in such a design, and by stating at another the embarrassments which it was likely to create to the French government if it should pertinaciously determine to carry it into execution.

Another view had also been taken of his conduct at Verona. At the time that he went to the congress which was held there, the French government offered to the consideration of the allied powers three propositions; all of which were declared by it to rest upon the single ground of defensive operations. It had been sated, that by those propositions he had been completely duped. Such a statement he begged leave most positively to deny. If noble lords would only take the trouble of reading over the papers, they would discover, not only that he had foreseen, but that the government at home had also foreseen, the probability of the French cabinet resorting to offensive operations. But, even though such had been the case, was it his duty to go and insult the sovereigns and their ministers who formed that congress, by telling them that he disbelieved the grounds on which they stated their readiness to enter into discussion? Was it his business, wishing as he did to preserve tranquillity in Europe, to seek an occasion of bringing forward topics, which, when brought forward, must excite difference of opinion at least, if not the greatest irritation? Was it his business, acting as he did, almost in the capacity of a mediator, to use arguments of menace and of force—arguments, which the noble lords knew that he was by no means instructed to support?

He was thankful to the noble lords opposite for the desire which they had expressed that he might come out of this discussion with an untainted reputation: but he should have felt more confidence than he now did in the sincerity of that desire, if he had seen no inclination in those noble lords to pervert, and misquote, and misrepresent his language, and to attribute to it meanings which it did not naturally bear, and which, if it did, they must have been certain were never intended. The first of the misrepresentations of which he complained was contained in a charge made against him by the noble baron who had opened the discussion, The noble baron had accused him of disobeying the orders which he had received, because, in the note which he delivered in to the allied powers on the 30th of October, he had not fully stated the instruction which he had received from Mr. Canning on the 27th of September. That instruction was of this nature:—"If there be a determined project to interfere by force or by menace in the present struggle in Spain, I am to instruct your grace at once frankly and peremptorily to declare, that to any such interference, come what may, his majesty will not be a party." Now, he would ask, whether at the period at which he delivered in the note in question, there was any reason to believe that any determined project was in agitation to interfere by force and menace in the affairs of Spain? At that period he was asked to give his opinion upon three propositions of a defensive nature, made by the French government; and he must say, that no appearance of force or menace was to be found in those propositions. As soon as a disposition was evinced to interfere by menace and force of arms in the affairs of Spain, that very moment he had declared, that to such an interference the king, his master, would be no party whatever; nay more, he had declared, without reserve, his majesty's opinion upon the subject of interference with independent nations, precisely as it was stated in the despatch of lord Londonderry, and he had conveyed that declaration to the foreign ministers in the strongest and most energetic language that he could use. That language was as follows:—"But his majesty's government are of opinion, that to animadvert upon the internal transactions of an independent state, unless such transactions affect the essential interests of his majesty's subjects, is inconsistent with those principles on which his majesty has invariably acted on all questions relating to the internal concerns of other countries; that such animadversions, if made, must involve his majesty in serious responsibility if they should produce any effect; and must irritate, if they should not: and, if addressed, as proposed, to the Spanish government, are likely to be injurious to the best interests of Spain, and to produce the worst consequences upon the respect probable discussions between that country due to and France. The king's government must, formed therefore, decline to advise his majesty but, at to hold a common language with his allies upon this occasion." Surely, noble lords, after reading this extract from the minute of the 20th of November, would acquit him of the charge of disobedience to the orders which were transmitted to him by the cabinet at home.

He next came to the censures which had been pretty lavishly bestowed upon him, for the remarks he had made regarding die French Army of Observation. Now he would ask, whether any of their lordships were prepared to dispute that France had a right to assemble such an army, when a civil war was raging along the whole length of her southern frontier, and when repeated inroads were made into her territory by each of the two contending factions? Yet that was all that was contained in his note. Their lordships should hear it:—"Considering that a civil war exists in the whole extent of the fron- tier which separates the two kingdoms; that hostile armies are in movement and in operation in every part of it; and that there is not a town or village on the French frontier which is not liable to insult and injury, there is no person who must not approve of the precaution which his most Christian majesty has taken in forming a corps of observation for the protection of his frontier, and. for the preservation of the tranquillity of his people." The noble baron had quoted that part of his note; but he had forgotten by some accident or other, to allude to the very next paragraph, which ran thus:—"His Britannic majesty sincerely wishes that this measure may be effectual in attaining the objects for which it is calculated; and that the wisdom of the French government will have induced them to explain it at Madrid in such terms as will satisfy the government of his Catholic majesty of its necessity." Now, it did appear to him most extraordinary that he should be found fault with on this point; and especially by those who were contending that the invasion of Spain by France rendered it necessary that we should put forth a large naval armament to observe the proceedings of France in that country and to protect our interests from any danger to which those proceedings might possibly expose them. In the representations he had made, he had taken care not to fail in that which all must acknowledge to be the illustrious individuals who part of the congress at Verona; the same time, he had also taken care not to fail in his duty to his country, by any relaxation in the language of his representations, which were made in the fullest, the fairest, and the strongest terms that his mind could suggest to Indeed, he believed, that if noble lords would take the trouble of inquiring of those who attended at the congress, they would find that there had not been any deficiency on his part in making strong representations of the intentions of the British government, but that he had gone upon every, point to the full length of his instructions, and indeed as far as it was possible for him to go without giving offence to the different powers with whom we were then in amity and alliance.

The noble duke then proceeded to defend his conduct in sending lord Fitzroy Somerset to Madrid, with a memorandum of the changes which he thought might be made with advantage in the Spanish con- stitution. He thought that even the noble baron himself would allow that some change in it might be fairly admitted, and that the object of his memorandum was so clear as to answer of itself all the charges which had been brought against it. The noble duke here read a part of his memorandum of the 6th of January, and afterwards contended, that it did not contain a single syllable which could hurt his reputation, seeing that the object of it was to induce the Spaniards to make some change in the constitution, in order to avoid the evils arising from a ruinous civil war, and a still more ruinous foreign invasion. The noble duke concluded, by saying, that he could not allow the debate to proceed without making these statements and that upon them he rested his defence, not only before this country but before Europe, and the civilized world.

Earl Grey

said, he rose for the purpose of giving an answer to the question which the noble duke had put to the Opposition side of the House, though under a feeling of considerable despair that, if that question had not been sufficiently answered by his noble friends who had preceded him in the debate, it would be impossible for him to give such an answer as would be deemed satisfactory by the noble duke. The noble duke had asked them, whether they meant peace or war? He should, perhaps, argue at some length upon that point before he came to the conclusion of his observations, but, in the mean time, be would shortly state to their lordships, what his proposition was regarding it. Feeling, not as the noble duke on the cross-bench felt, that the balance of power was any thing or everything or nothing, but feeling that it was most essential that it should be preserved for the preservation of the tranquillity and independence of Europe; feeling, likewise, that it was subject to the greatest possible risk of destruction, if France were allowed to complete the conquest and subjugation of Spain, he would tell the noble duke, that, when he saw this country placed in a situation of danger, against which every country ought to be on its guard, and against which this country had been on its guard at every former period of its history; he would tell the noble duke, he repeated, that in the first place he would have made those temperate, but firm remonstrances which the justice of the case required to be made against those who meditated such unjust aggression; and in the second, that he would, if they had proved unsuccessful, lave supported them by that power which God in his wisdom had granted to this country. That was a point on which he should be hereafter compelled to trouble their lordships at some length, but he thought that what he had said was quite sufficient for his present purpose.

He now came to the consideration of the policy of this country, as it had been stated, in the course of the debate, by the noble lord who had undertaken the defence of government, and also by the noble duke who had just sat down. But before he proceeded to that part of his speech, he must guard himself against an imputation which had been cast by the noble duke (he supposed without any offensive personal application) on those who sat on the Opposition side of the house, of having misrepresented, misquoted, and intentionally perverted the meaning of those documents which were found among the papers subscribed by his illustrious name. He disclaimed, for himself and for the noble friends with whom he acted, any such intention. He deprecated, he deplored, he lamented the degradation which had fallen upon this country in consequence of the part it had taken in the late negotiations; most of all he lamented that the name which was the most prominent in these negotiations, which had entailed such lasting infamy on the country; should be that of the noble duke, who or other occasions had shed such lustre and such glory upon it. This was no vain compliment on his part to the noble duke. He could assure him that, proud as he felt and as every Englishman ought to feel al the glory which the noble duke had acquired for the country, by his talents and prowess in the field, he felt no less ashamed at seeing that glory, so acquired and so maintained, tarnished by the shaft which he had taken in the late disgraceful conferences at Verona. He did not accuse the noble duke personally, neither did his noble friend who had so ably opened this discussion, of having acted theta in disobedience to his orders. On the contrary, he believed that the conduct o the noble duke was in perfect conformity with them, and that it had received the full approbation of all his colleagues it the cabinet. What he lamented was, no that the noble duke had disobeyed his orders, but that he had acted so completely in their spirit, that he had made himself so prominent an agent in negotiations which were attended with such disgrace and infamy to the country.

He now came to the discussion of the principles on which those negotiations rested. And here he must say, that, recollecting the opinions which had been formerly held, and the statements which had been formerly made, by the noble lords opposite, he had heard with the utmost surprise a declaration come from them, in a British House of parliament, that there could occur a case in Europe so deeply affecting the interests of this country—as the invasion and perhaps the military occupation of Spain by France necessarily must affect them, in which it was the determination of ministers, contemplating the results of such a measure in the serious light they did, to preserve, at all events, a strict and undeviating course of neutrality. He repeated, that such a declaration had excited in his mind the utmost surprise. Knowing, as he did, the transactions which had occurred in the early life of the noble earl opposite (lord Liverpool), and recollecting, as he well recollected, that the noble earl's first effort in public life an effort which gave promise of that distinction to which he had subsequently arrived—was made in showing that it was necessary to preserve, "at all events," the balance of power in Europe, which at that time he considered in danger from the possession of Oczakow by the Russians. When he recollected all the declarations which the noble earl then made as to the necessity of preserving the balance of power, and of preventing any individual nation from obtaining an ascendancy in Europe over the other nations which Formed part of it—when he recollected how ably the noble earl then contended, that it was necessary to maintain it unimpaired, and to prevent any individual nation from rising to wealth, and eminence, upon the ruins of another—it was with a degree of surprise from which he had not yet recovered, that he had heard it stated, that at all events, "come what may"—Oh! laudable ambition! Oh! praise-worthy determination to carry the country to the highest pitch and pinnacle of glory!—that, "come what may" even though Spain should be subjugated to France, and that scheme of aggrandizement which Louis 14th had contemplated but could not execute, which that much greater man Napoleon had likewise attempted, but had attempted, in, vain, should be carried into execution by the Bourbons of the present day—that at all events, his majesty's government would not interfere in any way to prevent it. If such had been the resolution which had been individually and collectively taken by his majesty's ministers, he was not prepared to say, that the conduct of the noble duke, in acting upon it as he had done, was at all culpable. But instead of coming to a determination to preserve a strict neutrality, we should have gone to congress with a determination to protect and maintain every principle of international law, to vindicate the independence of free nations, to uphold the system of the balance of power, and to secure the country against that danger which it was bound to avert at the present time quite as much as it was in the past—he meant the subjugation of Spain to France; or, what was scarcely loss pregnant with danger to British interests, the ascendancy of France in the councils of Spain by the military occupation of her territory and resources.

If, however, it was necessary that the noble duke should go to Verona with such instructions as he had received, and that this country should act upon a principle of strict non-interference in the affairs of Spain, he thought that the principle should, on every occasion, have been prominently brought forward; that it should never have been alluded to in a mere cursory manner; and, above all, that the avowal of it should have never been accompanied, as it had too often been accompanied, by a profusion of apologies, which almost seemed to justify the interference which was deprecated. "But," said the noble duke, "I did all that I could do; I exerted myself to the best of my abilities; and I was not sent to congress to insult the illustrious sovereigns who composed it." He (earl Grey) should be the last man to propose to insult those illustrious personages; but, the measure which, in his opinion, ought to have been adopted in treating with them, was a friendly but at the same time a firm remonstrance. He had before stated, that in the course of the negotiations that principle of non-interference, in favour of which ministers declaimed so loudly in parliament, was not distinctly acted upon at Verona. He complained first of all, that throughout the negotiations, in every instance from first to last, the British ca- binet had turned a favourable ear to the complaints of France, which was the stronger, and a deaf ear to Spain, which was the attacked and weaker party. He would apply that remark to the manner in which the noble duke had spoken of the French Army of Observation. "Could any man," said the noble duke, "dispute the right of the French government to place such an army on its frontiers, when a civil war was raging along those frontiers, and repeated inroads were made by the contending parties into the French territory?" To that he would reply, that the right claimed depended upon circumstances. If a civil war had raged on the frontier, which had not been instigated by France, and which threatened the integrity of her frontier, the safety of her inhabitants, and the welfare of her institutions, in that case he would confess that the maintenance of an Army of Observation was nothing more than a wise and just precaution. But, reverse the case, suppose that this civil war were not a rebellion that threatened France with danger, but a rebellion that she had excited—that this Army of Observation was not on the frontier to prevent danger accruing to her from the inroads of insurrection, but to nourish, foment, and protect insurrection: then, he said, that an army of observation would not meet with his approval, but that he should reprobate it as one of the most disgraceful means of annoyance which one country could call intro action against another. Did the noble lord accuse him of misrepresentation in making this statement? So recently as July last, the king of France had stated to his parliament, that it was only malevolence and calumny that could attribute any sinister object to the maintenance of the cordon sanitaire in the Pyrenees, and had pledged himself, that its only object in remaining there was, to prevent, not moral, but epidemic contagion from entering within the limits of his territories. He would now ask the noble duke, whether he did not know, that at the very moment the king of France so addressed his parliament, he was making preparations to excite rebellion and insurrection in Spain?—whether he did not know, that as soon as the Army of Observation was settled in its cantonments, the regency of Urgel was placed in direct communication with the French commander—that whenever its bands were defeated, they sought refuge within the French lines—that they returned from thence furnished with money and arms to commit fresh mischief in their own counry—that its agent was countenanced in Paris by the French ministry, received with the utmost respect by all the members of it at their parties of ceremony, and was actually permitted under the sanction of the French government to contract for a loan, of which the proceeds were to be expended in overturning the government of the cortes? Did the noble duke know these facts, or did he not? If he did know them, what were heir lordships to think of his conduct? If be did not, what were they to think of he ignorance in which he had been kept of such information? For it was notorious that the noble earl opposite (Liverpool) had recently admitted, that the government had received such information; that though they had no positive proof of it his majesty's minister at Madrid had stated his firm belief of the French being busily employed in fomenting disturbances a Spain; adding, that the time at which they were the most busily employed was About the 7th of July—that day on which it was pleaded by the members of the holy alliance, that blood was spilt in the palace of the king—blood spilt in consequence of the instigation of that very government which now urged it as a justification of the atrocities which it was about to perpetrate! Was it possible to hear of such things, and not feel one's blood boil with indignation? Was it strict impartiality to justify the policy of maintaining the Army of Observation on the Pyrenees, and to call upon Spain to give explanations, not only of her past conduct, but of her future intentions? Was it strict impartiality to call for no explanation from France, which was evidently planning an attack upon Spain, and yet to demand explanation with every thing short of actual menace, from Spain—Spain, which a document recently laid, on the table proved beyond all power of contradiction, never to have entertained the slightest intention of either injuring or attacking France?

The noble duke had asked—"Could any man disapprove of the stationing the Army of Observation in the Pyrenees?" He would answer that question by putting another: suppose, that Ireland were now in a state of civil war—suppose one French fleet to be at Brest and another at Ferrol or Corunna—suppose, also, that the individuals connected with the disturbances in Ireland were received there by the authorities with open arms, and despatched from thence, whenever occasion offered, with money and stores, for the use of the insurgents in Ireland—would the noble duke think that the honour and safety of England were not affected by such conduct, and would be defend the policy of allowing France to maintain in her harbours a naval armament of observation, ready to invade our shores, as soon as it could espy a favourable opportunity? He said, that these acts—or rather these crimes—on the part of the French government towards Spain, were too notorious to be denied. Nay, M. Villèle, on a recent occasion, instead of denying, had absolutely demanded credit of the French Chambers for having committed them: for he had stated in the Chamber of Deputies, in defending himself against an accusation, that he had not done enough for the Army of the Faith, that he had done every thing it was possible for him to do, under the peculiar circumstances in which he had been placed; that he had provided the insurgents with money and arms to a very large amount; and that until an army was on foot, it was quite impossible for him to do any thing more.

The French army being, then, on the Pyrennees, not to guard France from epidemic contagion, not to protect her territory from hostile aggression, but to foment insurrections, and to kindle the flames of civil war in the heart of Spain, the continuance of it in such a position was an offence against Spain, of which she had a right to complain, and of which she was entitled to demand the removal. The British cabinet knew of those facts, and in knowing them, and not instructing the British negotiator to call for an explanation of them, it had absolutely given its countenance to the unjust aggressions of France. Resting upon a circumstance so notorious, he must charge his majesty's ministers with being all along actuated by a desire to favour the injustice of France, and to refuse even common justice to the cause of Spain. But the charge against them did not rest there. The noble duke had taken upon himself to declare, that his conduct had been much misrepresented with regard to the memorandum, in which he had undertaken to induce the Spaniards to change a part of their constitution. The noble duke had said, that the Spanish constitution was full of imperfections—that changes were necessary to its improvement—and that he was the best friend to Spain in persuading her to make them, in order to avoid civil war and foreign invasion. But, at the very moment that the noble duke was using that language, he was offering counsel to Spain which she could not accept, without putting the seal upon her own dishonour. And why so? Because France had urged those changes upon Spain, with the threat of war in case they were not effected. What, in such an emergency, was the conduct of the British cabinet? Why, it went to Spain, which disclaimed all foreign interference in her concerns, and said, "Consent to the changes which France demands; and, as a salvo for your permitting her to retire from the situation in which her iniquity has placed her, every thing shall be comfortably settled." But, in recommending this concession, the British cabinet did not know, even if it were made, whether every thing would be settled as comfortably as it promised. He had looked for such a promise on time part of France in the papers submitted to the House; but no such promise could he anywhere discover. Nay, M. de Chateaubriand was even stated to have said, that though every thing were conceded, military operations must still go on. Concession, therefore, in such a case, he considered to be entirely out of the question; he held it to be utterly inconsistent with honour, and to be such as no British minister ought to recommend. He maintained, that the British cabinet ought never to have made any offer of its mediation between France and Spain. Mediation was intended to bring two parties together, in hopes of producing agreement between them, by recommending to each mutual concession. But, in this case, no mutual concession could be made. For what was the proposition of France?—that Spain should alter her constitution. Supposing the alteration to have been of the most trivial nature—and it was admitted that a very trivial alteration would latterly have satisfied France—still Spain could not and ought not to make it; since, in making it, she would concede the whole point in dispute, and would admit the principle, that France had a right to demand from her such a change. On the other hand, to demand from France that she should recede from her atrocious pretensions, as honour and justice both demanded that she should, would be to demand of her that which it was not very likely she would grant. He asserted that this offer of mediation was absolutely nugatory. M. de Chateaubriand, who had been well characterized elsewhere as the maker of bad books and worse speeches, and to which he would add, the compounder of still worse state papers, knew it to be so. Concessions, too, were demanded by us from Spain, at a time when they could only be made by a sacrifice of honour.

Such, then, were the complaints which he made of the conduct of a negotiation which had lowered the character of this country in the eyes of Europe, and reduced her to a state of greater humiliation than at any former period of her history. Throughout his political life he had seldom been the advocate of war; though, when the interests and honour of the country were at stake, he had never been backward to meet the most formidable dangers. The dangers at the present moment he did not undervalue. Many of the important interests of the country were beginning to revive; although he could not concur in the opinion that night expressed, that the agriculturists were in a state of progressive improvement. But, the principle of attention to perils must have its limitation, and, however great, those perils must sometimes be encountered. What, then, he would ask, was the present situation of this country? First, what was the principle asserted by the French government? A principle most odious, most unjust—that of dictating to another, and an independent, nation, a change in its constitution. He forebore at present to inquire what was that constitution—by whom it had been framed—by whom it had been adopted—by whom it had been acknowledged. He forbore to inquire even what debt of gratitude the Bourbons themselves owed to the cortes of Spain, and how much they were indebted to the noble exertions of Spaniards for the very throne to which they had been restored. No man valued more highly than himself the British constitution, but he knew that it had its defects; and one of them was, that the House of Commons required much reformation. But, although he was a zealous and determined advocate for reform, if that reform were insisted upon by a foreign power—from that very moment this great defect would become sacred in his eyes, and he would defend it with the last drop of his blood against the insulting dictation of the foreigner. He need not remind noble lords how much had been said of the independent rights of Spain, when she was invaded by Buonaparte; but he would ask, whether this odious policy, this unjust interference, was less dangerous now than at the period to which he alluded? The noble earl admitted, the principle claimed by France to be unjust, but he contended that justice was not enough to warrant a war. He (earl Grey) admitted it—a war must not only be just, but distinct interests must call for it. If two of the most remote countries in the world had been thus circumstanced, the noble earl might have said, "the principle is unjust, but our interests are not immediately involved." Here, however, the danger was at our very doors. The invading power was France, and the power invaded was Spain. And, would the noble earl contend, that the best interests of Great Britain were not at stake—that we ought to be content to preserve a mere neutrality, and stand tamely by while Spain was overrun? There might be noble lords whose hatred of freedom was so great that they would rather see France triumph than Spain victorious. Something like that sentiment he had heard that night from the cross-bench, with an indignation that must be partaken in by every honest-hearted Englishman. Notwithstanding all the boasts of this country, of her influence in Europe, and of the high station she occupied from her victories during the last war, the noble earl opposite was content that it should be now said, that during his administration she had been reduced to such a state of pitiable weakness, of utter helplessness, that she could not only no longer maintain the principles for which our ancestors had bled and suffered, but that she dared not even assert them before those who owed their thrones to her exertions. War might be the alternative; but he denied that it was the only actual alternative. He would not have used empty menaces; but, with dignity and firmness, he would have held a plain, manly, and decisive language. He would have said to France, "Your principle is unjust: your success must be most injurious to this country; and Great Britain not only refuses to ac- quiesce in your principle, but, if the necessity arises, must resist it by the alternative of war." Had he now given a distinct answer to the noble duke? Did the noble duke now think there was any concealment of the views he entertained? In his opinion, war was not the necessary alternative, nor would it have been the inevitable result. It was not given to human faculties to look into the womb of time, and discover what seed would grow and what would not; but it was his sincere belief, that if Great Britain had used the language which she ought to have employed, a secure, permanent, and honourable peace would have been the result—a peace settled on the best and firmest foundation—the character of this country for moderation and justice. It was possible, however, that the issue might have been war. He was not disposed to blink any part of the question; and he admitted, that war at the present moment must have been attended with many evils. If, nevertheless, peace had been the consequence of our exertions, its benefits would have been, an intimate connection with Spain, the confidence and respect of Europe, and the preservation of that character which this country had been gradually losing ever since the final overthrow of Napoleon. What scenes of prosperity would have opened upon us! Spain would have been established in freedom and happiness, with such changes in her constitution as reason and experience might warrant, without the supercilious dictation of a perfidious enemy. United with Spain, Great Britain would have possessed the best security against the ambition and power of France, and by her friendly counsel she might have produced a reconciliation between Spain and her colonies on the basis of their independence. What advantages to England—to Spain—to the world! But, if war were unhappily, and he would say unexpectedly, the result, we should at least engage in it with the highest honour, with the cordial affection of Spain, with the general good-will and wishes of Europe; nay, even of the people of France herself. What, on the other hand, had been the effect of the present measures of the British government? Was peace now secure? Or, if war ensued after all our fruitless negotiations, was it likely to be attended with less danger than if it had been undertaken at an earlier and more favorable period? On a former night, the noble earl had asserted, that hostility on our part would have made the war against Spain popular in France. But, if a war on our part was just, ought we to stop to inquire its effect upon the enemy? He, however, firmly believed, that if our principles had been clearly stated, their justice and moderation must have been felt by the people of France, and it would have been seen that we were fighting strictly in self-defence. He, indeed, would have counselled no other than a maritime war. The equipment of an army to act in Portugal or Spain he should have opposed: and it was strange to him to hear it said, that a war thus undertaken, which swept the commerce of France at once from the ocean and destroyed her colonies, would have met with a popular resistance. He would ask again whether, after all the reluctance shown to assert the plainest principle of right—after being content to be the tame spectators of the aggressions of France—peace had been secured to this country? Noble lords on the other side had endeavoured to depreciate the dangers to result from the success of France. The House was told, that France and Spain were no longer what they had been; and the noble president of the council had gone the extraordinary length of asserting, that the consequence of the success of France would not be the military occupation of Spain. Surely it was needless to refute such a statement. France was marching to subdue Spain, to restore the king, to abolish the constitution—and, could this be effected without producing general? Discontents would exist. The king must not only be seated, but supported on his throne. He must be propped by the bayonets of France, as the king of Naples had been by those of Austria. Such must be the inevitable result of the success of France; but, that she may not be successful, may God, of his infinite mercy, grant! [Hear, hear.]

But it was said, that the danger to this country was not so great now as it was formerly—that the balance of power, once so important, was now nothing, anything; everything, but perfectly inapplicable to this question. Spain, it seemed, had lost her colonies. True; but she possessed a great extent of coast, and the means of restoring her navy; and, when once France had the custody of Spain, she would be backed by the holy alliance. Austria would aid her; Prussia would lend her troops; and Russia would not be backward to conspire with the rest against the liberties of mankind. Success and its consequences, with the military character of the French, and their love of glory, might render the war popular; and Spain might reasonably feel irritated against Great Britain for the loss of those liberties which she might so easily have enabled her to preserve. What dangers might not then surround us? Let it be remembered that the emperor of Russia had, only the other day, boasted that God had been pleased to place him at the head of 800,000 men to give peace to Europe. Peace! What peace? The peace of the grave—the silence of the tomb! And, did their lordships think that these were imaginary dangers? When the "monarchical principle" was once established—when liberty was driven from the continent—was it to be supposed that she would remain unassailed in this her last asylum? Would the despots of Europe tolerate the bitter reproaches of the free press of England, or the unshackled discussions of her independent parliament? The annexation of Spain to France, in every point of view, was one of the greatest dangers which this country had ever encountered—even greater than those threatened by the military dominion which Buonaparte had so nearly established over the prostrate world. Suppose the war in Spain were protracted, and the event doubtful—suppose Russia were called upon to march her hordes to the support of France, were his majesty's ministers prepared to be indifferent spectators? Suppose the war took another turn, and that Spain succeeded in exciting in France a revolutionary spirit—suppose the dynasty which we had squandered so much blood and treasure to restore were threatened with a second expulsion—in that case a noble duke had said that this country must go to war. He trusted the noble duke was singular in this opinion. He trusted, that ministers had already given France to understand, that, if the danger should recoil upon herself, this country was not bound by any engagement to support the Bourbons—that they had forfeited all claim to our protection. But, if the allied powers should advance to settle by their bayonets the affairs of what the Russian despot was pleased to call "the western provinces of Europe," did any man believe it possible that Great Britain could remain at peace? If the war should continue for a year, or even for six months, did history, did past experience, did the present state of Europe, warrant the expectation that it would be possible for us to preserve peace? War might then arrive at a most unwelcome moment—at a moment when difficulties had increased, and dangers accumulated. He had occupied much more of their lordships' time than he had intended; but he could not remain silent when an opportunity was afforded of relieving himself from the imputation that must necessarily rest upon every man who had taken an active part in public life, and who did not come forward to resist to the utmost, and to condemn in the strongest possible terms, this unjust and most wanton aggression. He might advert to many other points, were he not ashamed of occupying further the time of the House; but he had said enough to relieve himself from all participation in the foulest disgrace that had ever befallen this country. He had never given a more cordial, zealous, and confident vote in the course of his political life, than that which he should give in favour of the present motion.

The Earl of Liverpool

said, he was willing to allow, that in the course of what had fallen from the noble earl, he had given their lordships this advantage—he had spoken more distinctly than the other noble lords who had preceded him upon that side of the question, as to the course which they thought his majesty's government ought to have pursued. He never was so much surprised as when he came down to the House that night, and found the noble baron who introduced the question adopting such a course, and proposing such an address as the one which was now in the hands of their. Speaker to be laid from the woolsack. To him that address was perfectly unintelligible. He knew not what it meant. It was impossible to say whether it was for peace or war. From what had passed on former evenings, he had, indeed, understood that the noble baron was for war; but now the noble baron was afraid to declare it in his proposed address. The whole tendency and meaning of the noble, earl's speech who spoke last, was this, "You ought to have gone to war rather than suffer France to invade Spain: this ought to have been the doctrine held at Verona; this language ought to have been firmly and decisively spoken to France." This was the only ground upon which the conduct of government could be impugned; and this it was, that the noble baron ought to have embodied in his address. But instead of that open and manly course, for the sake of catching a few stray votes, he had framed an address, which meant any thing or nothing, and had shirked and blinked the only question which was realty at issue. The instructions given to his noble friend, the duke of Wellington, were, that "to any interference with Spain, come what may, his majesty would not be a party." This was the result of the deliberations of the cabinet upon what he readily admitted was one of the greatest questions upon which a government could be called upon to decide. They decided for neutrality; and upon that decision all their subsequent conduct hung. That was the key to all their acts throughout the negotiations which ensued; and upon this point arose the misconceptions of those who dissented from the propriety of that conduct. They said, "Oh! you're for neutrality; but yet you might act as if you intended war." Now, whether ministers had determined rightly or not in deciding for neutrality, was rather a question for after-inquiry; but having adopted neutrality, he contended that the only true course was, to use all the means in their power to avert war. Was peace, then, more likely to be obtained by a high and haughty tone towards other powers, or by that frank declaration and reference to the true principles of the question which they had thought proper to make? His noble friend had said truly, that they had no occasion to put forward principles—that they had only to refer to them. The true principles for which they contended had already been put forward in 1820 and 1821. Upon one occasion they were advanced in opposition to different principles laid down by other powers. The note of lord Castlereagh, of 1821, was in answer to a circular previously issued by the allied governments. Throughout the recent negotiations they had expressed their opposition to the conduct of France, and consequently their approval of the conduct of Spain. They had all along declared their opinion upon the injustice of the conduct which France was pursuing, upon the falsehood of the principles she was acting upon, and upon the danger likely to result from her acts. It had, indeed, been confessed by the government of Spain herself, that we had done as much for her as she could expect us to do at Verona. Where, therefore was the impropriety of recommending to her, as friends and supporters, a course which would be calculated to preserve the peace of the world, consisting of those alterations which she might think necessary in her constitution? To those who thought that his majesty's ministers ought to have resorted to menaces upon the chance of preventing war, he would say, that this was not a case in which such a course could have had a beneficial result. He could understand the advantage of using a menace with such a view, when the question in dispute had a distinct ant single object. If, in the case of France seizing Minorca, we were to interfere and say, that unless it were given up to Spain, we would declare war—then he could understand that, upon the chance of her acceding to our request, war might be avoided. But if the language at Verona had been, "If you invade Spain we will declare war," no such distinct result could have been obtained: because, France might have conceded the point of invasion, but still have kept up her Army of Observation, which we had no right to oppose; and thus all the evils would have remained, with perhaps increased irritation and hostile feeling between the two countries; and the only alteration that could have been effected was, the delay of actual hostilities for a few weeks or months. This was not, then, a case where a menace could have been used with even a chance of advantage. The establishment of an Army of Observation might have been abused, and might have been made instrumental to improper objects; yet, when Spain was the theatre of a civil war—and this the noble earl had entirely left out of view in the whole of his speech—the maintenance of such an army might be justifiable, and in some cases even necessary, for the protection of the people of France; particularly if accompanied by a frank avowal to the Spanish government of the intentions of the French. But this part of the subject he was quite content to rest upon the papers before the House. The real question for their lordships to decide was, whether the policy this government had been right or wrong in not going to war with France—whether, in short, it ought to have been war or neutrality?—But, before he proceeded to that part of the subject, there were some general topics to which the noble earl had resorted, that required particular notice. The noble earl had said, that he (lord Liverpool) had formerly been prodigal of the military exertions of the country. Now, he too had a memory upon that subject. In the year 1808, he considered the situation of Europe to have been so changed, as to require the greatest possible military efforts on the part of this country. He was then in his majesty's councils, and he had thought it right to recommend that Spain and Portugal should be made the theatre of war: and he well remembered, that the noble earl opposite was at that time opposed to any warfare in Spain, and looked upon all the endeavours of Great Britain as futile and ineffectual, prophesying that in a few months not a single British soldier would be left in the Peninsula.

Earl Grey

denied that he had used any such words.

The Earl of Liverpool

observed, that be did not mean to say, that these were the precise words of the noble earl; but he contended that such was the sense of what the noble earl had then said. He perfectly well remembered that, when, in answer to some questions put to him respecting the state of our armies in the Peninsula, he stated his opinion as to the success of their exertions, the noble earl opposite had desired that those words should be remembered. It was now objected to, that this country should have recommended any alteration in the Spanish constitution under a foreign menace. But, was their no difference between the dictation of a hostile power and the suggestion of a friendly one? Did they ask the Spanish government to concede to their enemies that which they thought it would be wrong to change, or even that which they considered doubtful? No; but only such parts of their constitution as they all agreed were impracticable. And here again he must appeal to his memory as to the former opinions of the noble earl. He remembered, that at a time when this Country was engaged in a war of terrible magnitude, and, he believed, with a mutiny raging in her fleet at the same moment, the noble earl and his friends seceded from their duty in parliament, because they could not effect the most important alteration that ever was proposed to be made British constitution, under the name of a reform in parliament.

There was one point which the noble earl had entirely omitted to notice, although it was a point of great importance; namely, the difference between the situation of Spain in 1808 and at the present moment. At the former period it was a united, at present it was a divided country. It was not from the Army of Observation alone that the Spanish government had cause for apprehension. Spain was now equally divided between those who were, and those who were not, in favour of the constitution. He would not undertake to say which formed the majority. He did not know where the balance was to be struck. Therefore, an important question presented itself; namely, whether they were to stand forward to protect the constitution of Spain, against which a part of the Spanish people were arrayed, or whether they were called on to act, in consequence of the mode in which that constitution had been externally interfered with? The noble earl had said, that he was for peace. So was he (lord Liverpool), and so he thought every man should be. But then came the question—"Will you remain long at peace?" He would say, that a great country like this should always be prepared for war. He was ready to admit, that when war arose in any part of Europe, particularly in countries so contiguous to them as France and Spain, such contingencies might happen as rendered it absolutely necessary that England should be prepared for war. But, if he were to look at this question with reference to the interests of the country—and what other view ought he to take of it?—he would inquire, before he adopted a positive evil, what were the chances of war occurring? It was on a question of that sort, that the propriety of going to war must be discussed. He knew very well that a small present danger might be incurred for the purpose of escaping a greater evil at a future period. That had always been considered sound policy. But, the question here was—"What are the chances of war?" The noble earl seemed to think that France would acquire dominion over Spain as easily as he could move from one part of that House to another. This was not a correct view of the case; and before he came to any such conclusion, he, would ask, "What are the chances of the war being carried on successfully?" What would France get by her endeavour to make a conquest of Spain? He would answer—absolutely nothing, unless the whole country rose in their favour—a circumstance which no person could contemplate; but which, if it happened, must entirely alter the whole question. The noble earl did not seem to reflect on the situation of Spain. That country was nearly as large as France—abounding in military positions—and, from its mountainous nature, the strongest country perhaps in Europe. It was different in every respect from Poland, to which the noble lord had adverted. The virtues, and even what might be deemed the defects, of the Spanish character, gave to the people greater means of defence and resistance, than could be found in any other country in Europe. What, then, was the prospect of France obtaining that sort of forcible dominion over Spain, which would not be ruinous, but might be prejudicial to this country? He had stated, on the first day of the session, that, disapproving this war between France and Spain, he looked at it with more apprehension as it regarded France, than as it respected Spain. He considered the success of France as most unlikely; and he looked, with great apprehension, to the effects which the contest would produce on France, if her arms did not succeed. It was said, that France would take the chance of assuming dominion in Spain; and then came the question—was there any reason to suppose that that dominion could possibly continue? They were told, that the French army was to pay for all its provisions, and that it was to be provided with extensive supplies from France. Now, he must say, that if France chose to adhere to that policy—and he knew of no other which she could pursue—it would be completely ruinous, and she would soon be placed in such a situation as would put it out of her power to molest any other state. When, in 1809 and 1810, the war in the Peninsula was going on, he had said to the noble earl opposite, and to those who desponded—"Look to the extent of Spain—look to her resources. The same thing which occurred to us with respect to our North American colonies, will now take place in Spain. France may get possession of some positions; but she will not be able to hold a single point, beyond what is occupied by her armies." That opinion had been proved to have been a correct one; and he thought the same thing was likely to turn out in the present case; with this difference, which should never be lost sight of—that in 1809 and 1810, Spain was a united country, but that it was now a divided country. Therefore, the question really came to this—not what the conquest would be worth, if it were gained, but what was the probability of its being gained? That point must be first decided.—The next question was, whether it would not be better for this country to remain at peace, taking the chance of the failure of the French force, rather than rashly to encounter the evils and inconveniences of war? He was puzzled at the course of policy advocated by the noble earl. He could understand those who said—"You formerly took a part in the war of the Peninsula, and you came out of it gloriously, by driving the French from that country. Having done so, will you now suffer France to exercise a dominion over that people?" He thought a very powerful appeal might be made to the judgment, as well as the feeling, of the British people, on that score. But, let not parliament trifle with the question. If it was the policy of this country to assist Spain, it must be done with all the means in her might and power. We must send an army there. A naval force would not serve our views in the least. We might sweep the sea of French ships; we might subjugate their colonies if we pleased; but beyond that we could do nothing. After the first three weeks of a naval war, the French would laugh at all we could possibly do. If this country did not send his noble friend, or some individual at the head of a well-appointed army, she would do nothing for Spain. By carrying on a mere naval war, we should entail a large expense on the country, without obtaining any advantage in return.

And here, again, they came to the division of the Spanish people. Spain was now a divided country; and therefore if they interfered, they would have not merely to protect Spain from the arms of France, but they would have to assist one-half of the Spanish people against the other. If they gave assistance to Spain, they must make up their minds, to enter into a military contest. And, for what should they go to war?—for the purpose of preventing trance from conquering Spain. The former country would send her 100 or her 200,000 soldiers to effect that object. And, what course was recommended for England? She, it seemed, was not to send a sol- dier to the Peninsula, but her fleets were to seize the merchant vessels of France! That was to be the extent of her operations. But if they engaged in war with France, it would be a contest of that nature in which such an intervention as that which he had described could have no effect. The question then was, what course ought England to pursue? The government had decided for a neutral course. Their judgment went shortly to these points—"Are you prepared, looking to all the contingencies, to enter into this war now, or to take the chance of events by which war may be prevented; or are you ready to make a war effectual to its objects, instead of adopting that course which would not accomplish them?"

He would now say a few words on a topic which had been adverted to by several noble lords in the course of the debate; namely, the general policy of the country. It had been said, that the question was, "whether we should walk in the train of despotism, or appear as the protectors of constitutional liberty?" Now, the policy for this country to pursue, was stated in the circular of the late marquis of Londonderry of May 1820. The principle to which it referred, was that of democracy on one side, and of arbitrary power on the other. That subject had never before been brought to such a point as it was in his noble friend's answer to the unfortunate circular of Austria, Russia, and Prussia. It stated very distinctly on what principle this government intended to act. He had then declared, and he felt it necessary, in the present crisis of the world, again to do so, that, looking to the state of Europe—looking to the bearings of what were called liberal principles in different states—marking the extremes to which they had unfortunately been carried in Spain—and, in consequence of which extremes, any person who desired the amelioration of those constitutions, so far from being an enemy to liberty, was really a friend to it—he contended, looking to those principles, and to the principles of the British constitution, which was a compromise between the principle of democracy and that of monarchy, that, in this conflict of opinion, the middle or neutral course was the proper policy for this country to pursue. He felt the danger which would accrue to this country from lending itself to either side on this question. They might think that justice lay on the one side or on the other, according to the particular case that was laid before them; but, without considering what the interest of this country might require, it did appear to him, that the wisest and safest policy was, to keep free from either extreme. Happy in the enjoyment of their own constitution, they ought to make the world feel that they duly appreciated its benefits. A middle course was the proper one for them to pursue. They ought not to act as the abettors of despotism on the one hand, nor the supporters of wild and impracticable theories on the other.—There was one very serious consideration connected with this subject; namely, what might be the effect of our taking a part in this contest, with reference to other cases which might grow out of it? With respect to the foreign policy of this country, they ought, when deciding upon that point, to inquire what was their own interest? The question was, whether it was or was not for the interest of this country to go to war on account of Spain? He believed that question, if put thus shortly, would be answered in the negative by ninety nine out of every hundred individuals in this country. What might grow out of the contest between France and Spain no man could say. It was the duty of this country to be prepared for any thing that might occur; but at present the whole question was one of chances, and the chance of preserving peace was at least equal to the chance of going to war.

The Marquis of Lansdown

said, he would not have addressed the House on the present occasion, had it not been for the concluding sentiments of the speech of the noble earl; sentiments which, he would contend, were calculated to place this question on a ground perfectly fallacious, wholly remote from that on Which it had been laid before the House by his noble friend, and contrary to the statements contained in the papers on their table. He alluded to the concluding remarks of the noble earl as to the general state of Europe. He saw, with as much concern as the noble earl could possibly do, that opinions were advanced, in various parts of Europe, which, if carried to their full extent, would create confusion and disorder. But, when the noble earl stated that as a reason for adopting a system of avowed and determined neutrality on the part of this country, he must remind the noble earl, that this was a question between the dependence and independence of nations—that it was a question between the rule and dominion of force, and the general rights of mankind—that it was a question, whether no cheek should be given to an attempt by force, and in contradiction to all international law, to insult and tyrannize over the whole of Europe? He would ask the noble earl, who seemed to think that this was a struggle between democracy and monarchy, whether he had not formerly stated time very reverse? Was the noble earl prepared to contend, that there was any the least intention on the part of Spain to extend to other countries, by force of arms, the democratic portion of the Spanish constitution? The noble earl could not, he was confident, support such an argument. He would then ask the noble earl, whether there was not a manifest disposition, on the part of the powers of Europe, to force, by dint of arms, their despotic institutions on the people of Spain? Now, if that was the case, how could the noble earl, in common fairness, say, that this was a contention between democracy and monarchy? Was not this contest commenced by an interference with the internal affairs of a state which found it necessary to new-model its institutions? Was it not an effort to break down the barriers which the national law of Europe interposed between different states? Was it not an attempt to set up a military despotism in the very heart of Europe, acting on the principle of naked force, and refusing to admit the inalienable right of nations to be governed by monarchy, or by any other form of government which best accorded with their habits and manners? This was the first question which their lordships and the country had to decide, and it was one which, if they were not prepared to determine it now, they would assuredly be called upon to determine hereafter. For, let no man lay the flattering unction to his soul—however ministers might remain in mild and calm acquiescence on this occasion—that, looking to the principles which were at work in Europe—the principles of tyranny and of despotism—this country could hope to escape for any length of time. The question which this country, sooner or later, would be called upon to determine was, whether that principle, the existence of which the late secretary for foreign affairs began to suspect in 1820—that principle which was brought into practice by the interference of military states, in the case of Naples, and which, having unfortunately been sanctioned by this country, was now brought into more active operation with respect to the affairs of Spain—should be suffered to extend over all Europe, unchecked and uncontrolled? Could any man hope, if that principle were successful in the case of Spain, that it would not be tried against ourselves—that it would not pervade the whole sphere of European policy? If ever there was a question which, in every point of view, called for their serious notice, it was that question. It had constantly been the system of this country, that the military states of Europe should not be united on a principle of policy in which England could not partake. But, the great military powers of Europe were not only now united on a principle in which England could not partake, but on one which was directly subversive of her whole system of policy, and at variance with the spirit of the British constitution.—He did not mean to go into a detailed consideration of the various topics which had been introduced in the course of the discussion. That this country had been unnecessarily and most unfortunately brought into that situation, in which this alarming question of European policy must be tried and determined, was the charge preferred that night against his majesty's ministers; who, with all the strength and resources of the country, with all that acquired honour, glory, independence, pre-eminence, authority, reputation, and what not, of which he had heard for so many years—had proved themselves totally unable to avert the evils which threatened Europe. From the papers on the table, and from the speeches of noble lords opposite, he had collected the defence of ministers. It appeared that from March, 1820, to October, 1822, they were in ignorance of all time transactions between France and Spain; that, in October, 1822, when the first symptoms of French policy were perceived, they were carried from a state of ignorance to a state of misapprehension; and that they then received those extraordinary questions which had been the subject of discussion that evening. The questions might have puzzled new or ordinary negotiators: but, if they were viewed with reference to past transactions, or to the suspicions which had been entertained by the marquis of Londonderry as to the intentions of France towards Spain, no person could have come to any other conclusion, but that there did exist a covert and indirect intention on the part of France to invade Spain. From a state of ignorance ministers had come to a state of misapprehension: and, when that misapprehension was finally removed, there succeeded a most erroneous expectation, that France would not act on the principle she had then stated. For two years, ministers had not interfered, because they were ignorant of the transactions between France and Spain; they had then refused to protest against the conduct of France, because, as the noble duke had stated that night, he did not understand the questions—and, ultimately, they had placed a most unwarrantable confidence in the French government. He had heard with the greatest astonishment from the noble president of the council, the expression of an expectation that France would not hereafter meddle with Portugal, "for the best of all reasons—because it was essential to the interests of France not to do so." But, if the noble earl gave credit to the statements of the duke of Wellington, and to the details which were to be found in the papers on their table, he would ask him, what had the French government been doing for the last two or three months, but acting against their real interest And why, he wished to know, if they were victorious in Spain, should they refrain from attacking Portugal? Having given way to the ruinous expectation, that France would not carry her threats into execution against Spain, and that expectation having been completely fallacious, at length the period arrived, when the whole truth could no longer be concealed; when the subtile purposes of the French appeared without disguise; and all that could now be stated was, that, with all our acquired pre-eminence in Europe, we could do nothing to prevent that most unjust, most alarming, and most disastrous enterprise from being carried into effect. Such was the glorious termination of those negotiations, which the noble earl and the noble duke declared to be worthy of public approbation, and which they were astonished had not met with the unanimous, cordial, and warm approbation of the House! On these grounds, he must concur in that degree of censure which was bestowed on ministers by the motion of his noble friend. He complained that the negotiations had been conducted upon limited and vulgar views. On former occasions—that of the peace of Westphalia in particular—treaties were settled upon sulk principles, with regard to the feelings and opinions of the people of the different nations therein represented; and the peace having a solid foundation, it lasted. The opposite course was taken in the treaty of Vienna. After twenty years of war, carried on against the principles of foreign aggression, agreements were entered into which seemed to have no distinctive principle, but that of severing people from their sovereigns. The interests and feelings of communities were forgotten. Nothing was done to conciliate their expectations, or to reward their efforts. And now they were alarmed at seeing the spirit of liberty break forth in a manner—perhaps not discreet, perhaps too violent for the satisfaction of sober and reflecting minds—but still in a manner which all reasonable minds must have considered inevitable, after the treatment which had been endured. It was upon these principles, and from the desire of seeing the rights of nations respected, and the people of those nations enjoy their own forms of government without the interference of foreign bayonets—it was from the conviction, that the noble earl, not being bound to maintain the question of democracy as such, nor of monarchy as such, in the recent negotiations, had failed in maintaining the internal rights of free states, that he felt himself bound to support the motion of his noble friend.

Lord Ellenborough

shortly replied. He said, he must still maintain, upon the showing of the noble earl opposite, that the case which had arisen entitled the noble duke, according to the instructions which had been given by Mr. Secretary Canning, to interpose with more effect in the proceedings of the French government. As to the assertion of the noble duke on the cross-bench, with respect to the principles of the Spanish constitution, all that could be answered was, that they were founded on the principle of Runnymede—the principle of compelling sovereigns who wished to rule despotically, to acknowledge the rights and liberties of their subjects, and to admit institutions which would secure the enjoyment of them.

The House divided upon the Amendment: Contents, present 96; Proxies, 46–142: Not Contents, 29. Proxies, 19–48. Majority against Lord Ellenborough's motion, 94.

List of the Minority.
Present.
DUKES	Fitzwilliam
Sussex	Fortescue
Somerset	Gosford
Grafton	Grey
Devonshire	Darnley
Portland	BARONS.
Leinster	Dacre
Argyle	King
MARQUISSES.	Holland
Lansdown	Foley
Bute	Suffield
EARLS.	Auckland
Derby	Erskine
Essex	Breadalbane
Jersey	Lynedoch
Tankerville	Ellenborough
Cowper

Proxies.
Duke of Bedford	Rosslyn
Marquis of Downshire	Minto
	Bessborough
EARLS.	Viscount Clifden
Albemarle	BARONS.
Waldegrave	Dundas
Darlington	Yarborough
Charlemont	Cawdor
Spencer	Crewe
Grosvenor	Belhaven